Page 114 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
The simple trust in her voice made something tighten in his chest. He set aside the bloodied cloth and cupped her face in both hands, marveling at how she no longer flinched from his touch.
"I love ye," he said again, as if he couldn't quite believe it was true. "God help me, Erica, I love ye so much it terrifies me."
"Why does it terrify ye?" she asked, her hands coming up to rest on his chest.
"Because I've never had anythin' to lose before. And now..." He shook his head, struggling for words. "Now I have everythin' to lose."
She rose on her toes and kissed him then, soft and sweet at first, but with an underlying hunger that made his blood sing. When she pulled back, her dark eyes were filled with the same desperate need he felt.
"Then daenae lose me," she whispered. "Keep me. All of me. Forever."
The kiss that followed was deeper, more urgent. His hands tangled in her hair while hers clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer. All the fear, the adrenaline, the overwhelming relief of being alive and together poured into that kiss.
"Erica," he breathed against her lips, "are ye certain? After everythin' that's happened today..."
"I'm certain," she said firmly. "I need to feel alive, Lachlan. I need to feel ye."
Her fingers worked at the laces of his shirt while his hands trembled as they unlaced her gown. There was reverence in their touches, wonder at finally being free to explore what they'd both been wanting for so long.
"Ye're so bonnie," he murmured, pressing kisses along her throat. "So brave, so strong."
"I dinnae feel strong," she admitted, her breath catching as his lips found that sensitive spot below her ear. "I feel like I'm shakin' apart."
"Then let me put ye back together," he said, lifting her carefully and carrying her to their bed.
"I never kent," Erica gasped. "I never kent it could be like this."
"Nor I," Lachlan admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "This is what love feels like, isn't it?"
"Aye," she breathed, pulling him closer. "This is love."
His eyes softened, his lips curved. “Then let me show you what that means.”
He kissed her, slow and deep, with a reverence that nearly undid her. His hands ran up her sides, skimming the curve of her waist, brushing the undersides of her breasts. He explored her like he had all night, but now there was something else—something more deliberate, more intense.
He wasn’t just touching her to make her feel good.
He was memorizing her.
He kissed her collarbone, her shoulders, the soft inside of her arms. Then he dipped his head lower and took her nipple into his mouth again, tongue circling, teasing. She arched into him, fingers threading into his hair. He sucked harder, letting his teeth scrape ever so slightly, and her whole body tensed beneath him.
“Lachlan,” she gasped. “Please—yes.”
He moved to the other side, giving it the same attention, then trailed kisses down the center of her body, pausing at her navel to draw lazy circles with his tongue. Her thighs shifted, restless, her skin flushed with heat. She was already dripping for him—he had to know.
But still, he didn’t rush.
He parted her legs and knelt between them like a man kneeling at the altar.
“Ye’re shakin’,” he murmured, looking up at her with that maddening half-smile.
“Because ye keep worshippin’ me,” she whispered back.
“Aye,” he said, kissing the crease of her thigh. “That’s exactly what I’m doin’.”
He didn’t tease this time. He went straight to her center, tongue licking a long, firm stroke through her folds. Erica cried out, hips bucking upward. He flattened his tongue and dragged it again, slower, then circled her clit and sucked it softly between his lips.
Her head fell back with a moan. “Lachlan?—”
