Page 37 of An English Rose for the Highlander
Her chest came to rest against Dominik’s, and she could feel the echo of his hurried heartbeat there, so similar to her own. As Rose tilted her head back to look at him, Dominik held her stare with his, those vibrant, verdant green irises the color of the Scottish fields after the rain.
As if nature itself were responding to them, thunder rumbled low beyond her room, followed shortly by a flare of lightning that lit up the space in a flash. Another crack of thunder, intense but not frightening, sounded around them. Rose released a shuddering breath as Dominik pulled her all the closer. The storm between them had finally reached its peak, and the clouds would pour down their rain, soaking all that they were.
“I would kiss ye now, lass.” Dominik reached for her cheek, his touch delicate, even as she could see the desire in his eyes that he fought so hard to maintain control of. “I would claim ye at last as me wife.”
“Yes,” the word escaped her on a breath, and Rose was dimly aware of how her stare softened, her eyelids becoming heavy.
With that, Dominik took her chin, lifting it high as he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was chaste at first, a gentle touch of their skin. In moments, however, he wrapped his arm around her waist, hauling Rose closer, and their kiss deepened, passion stirring between them like glowing embers.
Dominik’s tongue swept across the seam of her lips, seeking invitation, and Rose, without any hesitation at all, let him in. The taste of him was enough to send her mind spinning, and she felt that deep stirring within her, that part of her that silently called out for more. Her arms came around his neck, and Rose let out the tiniest moan against his mouth.
With a devilish chuckle, Dominik pulled back slightly, enough to rest his forehead on hers and smile. He reached for her face, stroking his thumb across the flesh of her cheek.
“So eager already? And where is that shy lass? She would be shocked by this one standing before me.”
Rose’s skin flamed, embarrassment lancing through her as pinpoint as a knife. But she did not wish for Dominik to stop.If anything, his words only heightened the growing need filling her, stirring her blood in a way nothing and no one ever had.
Pushing up on her tiptoes, Rose found a bravery she had no clue she possessed. But she wanted that touch, that warmth, and she brushed her lips against Dominik’s, seeking out more even as he grinned and shifted, playing coy with her.
“Have ye been thinking of this perhaps?” Dominik had the nerve to release that maddening chuckle again, the sound going straight to the core of Rose’s body, igniting still more flames that bloomed through her nethers. “Has me sweet wife thought of things her husband might show her in these private chambers?”
As Dominik playfully pulled back, Rose whined, stamping her foot down on the floor as the frustration overwhelmed her. She surged forward, a bold act of trying to seize hold of her husband so that he might stop this fiendish coaxing. He grinned, holding her arms behind her, until at once, he spun her around, her back pressed to his chest. Rose could feel the straining need hidden by Dominik’s kilt as she stood right up against him, and a pained whimper left her despite any pride she might have had up until then.
“Ye are a hungry minx, lass. Me fair, bonny wanton creature.”
Her eyes squeezed shut, and without thought, only instinct and arousal driving her, Rose rubbed herself against Dominik, stirring that length that sought her out even with Dominik’s continued teasing.
“Och, lass…” A deep growl rumbled in her husband’s chest, a mark of victory that lit her up as if she were the north star in the night sky. “If ye wish for me to go further, I will hear ye ask. I will hear ye beg me, in point of fact.”
All propriety and politeness had left her, and Rose dropped her head back against Dominik’s chest, still doing what she could to gain sensation by moving against him.
“Damn you, Dominik.” She shook her head, knowing her words were inappropriate and not caring in the slightest. “Please. You cannot continue to tease me like this. I shall go mad.Please.”
A satisfied chuckle left him, and Dominik spun her around once more. Rose stared up into his face, shock and lust driving her, and then Dominik’s lips found hers once more, his steps backing her up until her legs hit the bed behind her. She tumbled down, Dominik landing on top of her, and he smiled. Oh, that smile, that fiendish grin. It sent shivers along her body, the tingling landing in the most private part of her.
“Aye, lass. I believe I’d like to witness ye go a bit mad.” The green of Dominik’s eyes sparkled in the low light, emeralds reflecting the flames. “I have seen ye wield a pitchfork then a toast just as heartily. What will that bonny face look like when ye are forced to simply feel at me command?”
The notion of being under Dominik’s control, of allowing him to truly take her in whatever manner he wished, was intoxicating. Rose looped her arms around his neck once more, and she nodded.
“I am at your will. Show me what the poets sing of, what terrible ecstasy tempts even this stoic Laird.”
Dominik shook his head, a delighted squint to his eyes. “Och, lass, ye are in for it now. I have been patient. I have held me restraint. But nay longer.”
Suddenly, her husband’s mouth was on hers once more, and Rose yelped against his lips. She could feel the change in him, how he had indeed been holding back, and how it was utterly gone now. Dominik’s hands roamed her sides before gathering the fabric that covered her in his fingers. In a move as quick as the lightning outside, it came up over her head, leaving Rose in nothing but her stays, petticoat, and shift.
“These blasted layers,” Dominik chuckled, hovering over her now as he worked to quickly strip her of every stitch of clothing upon her person. “Such an obstacle that keeps me from viewing me wife.”
Rose’s cheeks flared, undoubtedly a vibrant pink now, but she said nothing, only ducking her chin as a tiny smirk lifted the corner of her mouth. Dominik began with the stays, unlacing them in slow pulls as he knelt over her on the bed. When the garment was at last undone, he flung it somewhere in the room, and both laughed low.
In truth, Rose was entirely shocked at how comfortable she felt with Dominik. Everything inside her called out for her, and she was aware of such a desire, the depths of which she was certain were fathoms deep. Her husband roamed his stareacross her, the thin fabric of her shift hiding very little of the pert buds that extended from her breasts. He made quick work of the petticoats, dragging them down her legs to join her stays somewhere on the floor.
She now lay before him in only her shift, and the nervous energy built once more. As if sensing it, Dominik leaned up, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and pulling it off over his head. Falling to the floor as well, the shirt made a soft thump, and Rose’s lips parted in appreciative wonder. Dominik was corded muscle and impressive strength, with a smattering of scars covering his skin.
Rose lifted her fingers to him, dusting them across the faint lines in his flesh. A flicker of unease affected his expression. She sat up some, driven by a foreign need she had never experienced before, and kissed his marred skin, one for each of the scars she could reach from her position.
Dominik took hold of her face, grinning down at her before ushering her back to the bed. As she lay there, her husband reached for the clasp that secured his kilt. His strong fingers freed the device and placed it safely on the small table near the bed before beginning the slow unwinding of the kilt.
Oh my.
