Page 22 of Wed to the Highlander
“You spoke to Andrew a year ago?”
“He has known my intentions for a while, which led to some awkward conversations, as you can probably guess. But I meant I spoke to James.”
She blinked, remembering him telling her two things could happen at once. “A year is a long time to wait.”
“Aye.”
“You’re a patient man.”
“’Tis easy when you ken the reward for that patience is the bonniest woman in all of England and Scotland,” he said, touching his mouth to hers. “Still at a loss for words?”
“No,” she breathed against his mouth. “But I think I’m done with talking.”
“As am I.”
His lips claimed hers, and no more was said. The kiss began tenderly but deepened quickly, hunger curling between them as they savored and discovered one another. She trembled, her breath coming fast when he broke away and turned her gently. His fingers worked the row of buttons down her back, undressing her with care, whispering quiet praise for every inchof her he revealed. When her gown pooled at her feet, her skin prickled—not from cold but longing.
Duncan’s lips lingered over the bend of her neck, his hands mapping her curves through her shift. She turned to face him, her heart pounding like a drum.
“I have never…” She faltered, the words dissolving as heat flooded her cheeks.
“Aye, Maggie. I ken that well,” Duncan murmured. “I’ll go gently.”
She inclined her head, whispering, “I want gentleness… but yearn for more.”
He drew nearer, his warmth seeping through the thin linen. “Tell me what you desire, lass.”
She longed to discover him as he had her. “I want to see you. And to…” Her voice faltered, but the tenderness in his gaze, and his steadfast patience, gave her courage. “To touch you…all of you…”
“You’ll have your wish.” He pressed a tender kiss to her lips then let his hands fall to his sides.
With a swiftness that surprised her, she undid his buttons and pushed aside his shirt, revealing bulging muscle, smooth skin, and a dusting of burnished hair. Her fingers ached to test its texture. Unlike his restraint, she didn’t delay, her hands spread across his chest, feeling the rise and fall, now quickened beneath her touch.
Curious, yearning, and emboldened, she wanted to see and touch more of him. She tugged at the linen covering his broad shoulders, but the snug fit thwarted her efforts. Duncan didn’t leave her to struggle, he shrugged free and tossed the shirt aside. With him bared to the waist, her hands roamed—along his powerful arms, across the strong lines of his collarbones, down the planes of his chest, and over the ridges of his middle. When her fingers brushed his leather belt, her courage wavered.
Her gaze lifted, uncertain. “I thought I could,” she whispered.
Duncan inclined his head and guided her to the edge of the bed. Then, deliberate and unhurried, he undressed the rest of the way. His gazes never left hers, watching her watch him.
When he stood before her in his full naked glory, her breath caught in her throat.
He was magnificent. Her gaze lingered on what was newly revealed—the length of his legs, the strength in his thighs, and the bold evidence of his desire for her. Never had she seen such a man—not in painting, nor in marble. And there was so very much of him.
Warmth bloomed low in her belly. Not from fear or shame, only wonder.
“You are…” she began, then stopped, words deserting her once more.
His mouth curved in a tender smile. “I’m yours,” he said simply. “Lie back.”
She complied with nervous eagerness, her shift clinging to her skin, her hair spilling across the pillows. He joined her, bracing himself with one arm, the other trailing down her side. His hand slid beneath the hem, his touch warm as he drew it upward. Then, as if by magic, he whisked it over her head.
His lips found hers as he shifted above her. Her hands rose to his shoulders, fingers tracing the muscles that flexed beneath his skin. Her thighs parted unbidden, yielding to the weight of him.
He didn’t rush. He didn’t assume. But he explored places that made her blush as much as tingle. He learned her, inch by inch, responding to every sigh, every tremble. Soon, unable to lie still, breathless, hungry, and eager to unlock long-held secrets, she couldn’t wait any longer.
“Duncan…”
His voice low and thick, he murmured, “I ken your desire, lass. I’m a large man—in all ways,” he warned. “But I’ll take care.”
