Page 52 of Her Highlander's Darkest Temptation
I should find a reason to step away - to push him away and discourage… whatever he thinks he feels for me. I should… I should…
Donall’s lips claimed hers, the warmth of his mouth like a spark to dry tinder, setting her ablaze with the deep, spreading heat of desire. His kiss was firm, insistent and questioning all at once. His hands cupped her shoulders as he tipped his head and deepened the kiss.
The resolve Lydia had tried so hard to cling to melted like wax before a candle flame. She wavered, leaning closer to Donall as thoughts tumbled through her mind.
I cannot afford to get closer to him. I am promised to another. But if I am to live a life in exile, hiding from my uncle and Laird Cameron… must I also live a life devoid of love, forever unable to give my feelings, my heart, to a man because I must hide my identity for fear of being discovered? I do not want that. If this is perhaps my only chance to have a loving relationship… I do not wish to let it pass me by.
She had tried so hard to keep her feelings for Donall closed away, and her laird at arm’s length. She was as weary of that as she was of hiding who she truly was.
Lydia relaxed into Donall’s arms, let him draw her close and mold her body to his, even as the kiss broke and left both of them panting. Against her hip, she felt a growing pressure, and Donall let out a thick groan. “Lass… Lydia…”
“If you feel so strongly my laird...” Lydia twined her arms around Donall’s neck and smiled into his eyes. She was gratified to see his eyes darken with a desire that matched the slow-growing heat in her own blood. “...thenshowme what you feel.”
“Lydia…”
“Show me.” She swallowed, then leaned up to whisper a final word in his ear. “Please.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
He felt as if his blood was aflame, and his arousal was making his shaft painfully stiff, but Donall held his desire in check as he stared down into Lydia’s trusting, inviting gaze.
There was a temptation to take her to the rug in front of the fire, to lay her on the thick, heavy furs and claim her there. His blood demanded more of her, desire surging over him like waves. Donall bit his lip to quell the fierce urges singing through him. It was difficult, after so long feeling nothing, but even so…
I will nae have me first time with Lydia be a hurried tryst on a rug in front o’ a fire in a place where any lad or lass can wander in. Especially nae if what I suspect o’ her is true.
With a grunt of effort that made his chest burn, Donall swept Lydia into his arms. The pressure of her bosom against his still-sore chest hurt, but it was a small thing compared to the feel of her soft, warm weight in his arms, the fulfillment of dreams he’d tried for a time to convince himself he hadn’t dreamed.
“What are you doing? Your chest…” Lydia’s eyes widened in alarm.
“’Tis fine. The wound is healed enough.” Donall turned on his heel, balancing carefully against the weight of Lydia in his arms, and left the library. He kicked the door shut behind him, then strode through the halls moving with a quick and purposeful stride. Fortunately, it was late enough that few servants were awake, and Alex had already retired, so there was no one to see as he carried Lydia up the stairs, into the laird’s family wing, and to the door of his chambers.
Seconds later, they were in his front room. Donall set Lydia gently on the floor, then turned to bolt the door. He returned to find Lydia watching him with a startled, uncertain gaze. “What… what are you…?”
Donall stepped close, slid his fingers through the silk-soft tendrils of her hair where it had escaped the loose braid she’d bound it in. Lydia leaned into his touch, and Donall reached further, stroking the length of the plait before he gently undid the tie to let it fall around her face. “Och, ye’re so beautiful. If there’s nae man among the English who could see tha’, then it proves what I’ve kent all along… they’re blind, every man o’ them.”
“Donall…” The uncertain tone of her voice stopped him from coming closer.
“Ye asked me tae show ye what I feel fer ye. Are ye changing yer mind?” It would be torture to let her walk away after this, but Donall swore he would, if she asked.
“No.” Lydia shook her head, a rosy blush suffusing her cheeks.
“An’ dae ye trust me?” Donall leaned closer.
“Aye.” Lydia nodded. “I do.”
“An’ ye want me? As I want ye?”
“I - aye.” The blush deepened, painting her cheeks the color of the red rose and a summer dawn. The warmth of it washed over Donall’s hand, welcoming and enticing, beckoning him closer.
Donall bent and claimed Lydia’s mouth again. Lightly, gently, with none of the searing need he had felt before. Here in his own chambers, with her acceptance singing softly in his mind, he saw no reason to hurry. Desperation settled into a bone deep desire to not only enjoy Lydia’s presence, all that she offered him, but to take his time, and ensure that Lydia received as much enjoyment as he did.
He cupped her chin with his hands, letting his fingers trail through the softness of her unbound hair as he breathed deeply of the heather and sage scents that surrounded her. Lydia’s skin was smooth, soft as flower petals under his touch.
His hand followed the silken fall of her tresses down her back. Lydia shivered under his touch, even as she leaned in closer, the swell of her bosom pressed against his chest just below the fresh scarring. Pleasure and pain pulsed together, sending fire tangling through him and straight to his already-aching groin.
Together, the two of them moved in an awkward dance toward the bedroom. Shoes were kicked off, his sash and belt were discarded, and the laces of his shirt were undone. In the bed chamber, he allowed Lydia’s dress to slip from her shoulders to pool on the floor, leaving her barefoot in her shift. Her blue eyes were wide and dark, uncertainty and desire deep as his own surging through them.
He cupped her cheek gently, bending close to kiss her, his tongue sweeping across the seam of her lips. She responded, hesitant but not uncertain, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue twining and dancing with hers until they were both breathless. Donall broke the kiss with a groan, his body aching and burning with the force of his desire. “Last chance lass. If ye dinnae want this…”
