Page 52 of The Highlander's Captured Bride
But he pulled away, “We cannae dae this. I want to but…” he pulled away, “ye deserve more than a mere pallet on a rough floor.”
Her stomach sunk. But she had to accept his words. “If ye see it that way…” she twisted and breathed deeply, “Um…come eat.”
When she plated out the warm stewed meat, she smiled, “I’m going to give the horses water.”
“Nay, I should—”
But she was gone before he could fully protest, grabbing a bucket and was out of the house. Stepping out into the backyard, she held unto the logic that he was right, losing her virginity in such a discomfiting way, not the way any woman would have wanted it. But then again… would she find another man like him?
The horses were resting under the sprawling limbs of the tree and the thick shade it provided, eating away at the grass. Setting the bucket in front of one, she let it drink to halfway, then went to the other. They would need more water, but he did not think she could face Ethan so quickly.
Glancing at the sun’s position high in the sky, she sagged.Mayhap anytime soon either.
Sitting with her back to the tree, she leaned on the trunk only to feel something odd. Twisting, she read F. M and E. M. carved into the dark bark. Touching them she realized they stood for Finley and Ethan. With the carved names— visible proof of the history the two brothers shared— she wondered how many more memories this place was forcing on Ethan. Then, shame that she had been selfish began to settle on her chest.
The man was having a hard time and what she wanted from him was just physical attention when he had to be suffering mentally. How could she be so shallow? Resting against the tree, she pieced together the words she would need to apologize to Ethan but none of them sounded right.
He might not have had a good night but she had not had one either. Facing away from him last night had been her saving grace, making him believe she was asleep and now she was feeling the weariness crawl back to her. She drifted asleep there.
A horse’s nose snuffling at her face was what woke her and, in her fright, she jerked away from the bulbous nose only to find that the day was gone. The skies were the deep purple-grey of growing dusk and insects were chirping in the air. Scrambling to her feet, they rushed to the cabin, entered through the backdoor and bent to brush her dress off and was apologizing profusely when something caught her eye.
The two pallets were merged into one and piled onto it were both of their sheets. A tall tallow candle was lit and the firepit had a small blaze but she doubted it was there for cooking anything.
Straightened, she called to the figure in the corner, “Ethan?”
He stood and her throat went tight. He was shirtless. As before, both hands cupped her face in his hands. Then, without a word, he brushed his lips gently over hers. The touch was soft, barely there, but it was as if the ground shifted beneath her. Ethan pulled back, and looked at her as if searching for permission to continue and when she did not push him off, he brushed his lips against hers again.
Violet’s eyes shifted to the makeshift bed and daring to not hope what he might be implying with that display, she bit her lip. “I…I must apologize, Ethan, I dinnae mean to pressure ye into—”
“Hush,” he whispered. “I ken, and it was more of wanting more for ye than what I can give ye here, but then…” his eyes were glimmering with sincerity, “I dinnae want to lose what we have now for what we might never get. I dae love ye, Violet, and if ye want me to show ye, I will.”
“Please, but what dae ye…what are…” the words would not come out.
“Ye’ll see,” dipping, Ethan swept her into his arms, carried her to the bed, though it was only a few feet away and gently laid her down. Perched over her, his large hand moved from her hip to smooth her sable curls away from her eyes.
He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “Ye’re certain ye want this,mo leannan? It’s nay much but—”
“I daenae need much,” she replied covering his hand with hers. “I just need ye.”
The look of reverence and adoration he gave her, as if she was a divine goddess, had her warming inside. They moved almost simultaneously with her canting her head to the side, he kissed down her neck, the tickle of his hair brushing over the sensitive skin he had just passed over, had her biting his lip.
When he nipped her earlobe, she made a sound halfway between a gasp and a whimper, but when he whispered, “Forget yer shyness, love, I ken there is a part of ye that just wants to let go of all the rules ye’ve been told.”
“And—” she moaned. “—How d’ye ken that?”
“Ye went to a girl’s school, aye,” Ethan said and he rucked up her skirts. “I’d imagine they gave ye rules of propriety and whatnot. How to act with a man…”
Impatient with the layers that separated them, she lifted her body for Ethan to pull the dress off her. But before he did, he stood back and disrobed. With every stitch that he pulled away, her mouth went dry and her body tight.
His frame was surely—surely—made by the gods of old. Broad shoulders, led to a granite chest with planes of pure muscle. A splattering of darker blond hair was over his chest but not thick enough to hide his perfection. His stomach was sculpted, ridged and magnificent but when he stripped off his trews, her attention was captured onhim.
The candlelight and fire had shadows dancing over his corrugated abdomen, and down the deep cut of his belly down to his pelvis, and the hollows of his hips. And there, hanging between his muscular thighs…her breath caught at the sight and size of him.
She reached out to rest a hand on his stomach and felt the tiny ripples there. He took her hand and kissed it before reaching to pull her dress off. Dropping it, he gently pushed her back and followed her down. Her apprehension disappeared when his hand cocked her hip over his and his deep, searching kisses stole her breath.
Her whole body tightened as she felt his hand slide into her inner thigh and then a soft stroke over her folds, making heat and flare inside, sliding over a place where she ached to be filled.
“Ye’re tempting, love,” he whispered. “But I want more of ye.”
