She nodded and looked down. Though copulation had never been enjoyable for her in the past, she trusted Eoin. Even more confounding, she craved his touch.
He fingered her kirtle laces. “Are you all right?”
“Aye,” she whispered, allowing him to pull her to her feet.
As if he were honing the fine edge of his blade, he unlaced every eyelet of her kirtle. Bending down, he ran fluttering kisses over the top of her bodice as he slid it from her shoulders. “Your skin is finer than pure silk,” he purred.
Helen’s knees turned to boneless mollusks as he removed her stays. All the while, the scent of spicy male sent her insides aflutter with anticipation. Aleck had never fussed with removing her clothing. But now Helen’s breath became labored as she allowed Eoin to undress her. She wanted him to see her naked, moreover, she hungered to see all of him.
Once Eoin stripped her down to nothing but her linen shift, she grew bold. Reaching up, she pushed the quilted arming doublet from his shoulders and let it cascade to the floor.
He grasped the skirt of her shift, but she placed the palm of her hand on his chest. “You first.”
With a chuckle, he kicked off his boots, then pulled the shirt over his head and cast it aside.
Aye, she’d seen him shirtless before, but watching him now in the privacy of the tiny bedchamber brought on a longing so intense, her very skin coursed with anticipation.
Eoin’s eyes darkened and his devilish grin turned up at one corner of his mouth while he loosened his belt and dropped his breeks. His need pushed out against his linen braies. With a flick of his fingers, he untied the knot holding them up and let them fall.
Standing naked as God intended, Helen never in her life imagined such virile beauty in a man. No piece of art or statue reflected Eoin’s magnificence. Head to toe, and halfway back up again, Helen drank him in…all of him.
Trying to breathe, Helen traced the fine, chiseled muscles of his chest. She gasped. Though his skin was incredibly warm, it was as hard as iron. A powerful need deep within her core coiled like the winding of a spring. She swirled her fingers through the downy hair on his chest before trailing her hand down the center of his rock-hard abdomen.
Eoin’s moan rumbled with basal desire.
His erection jutted from a nest of tight mahogany curls. Helen’s need scorched her insides and she licked her lips while her fingers twitched, not daring to go further.
Rocking his hips forward, the tip of his manhood touched her finger. She gasped.
So did he.
Meeting his gaze, Eoin nodded and lowered his lashes, telling her what he wanted simply with a look.
Her lips parted as she gradually wrapped her hand around him and stroked. Letting out a belabored breath, Eoin pulled her into his arms and pressed himself against her.
His hardness made her head swoon. Helen rocked her hips toward him, craving friction.
“I cannot hold back much longer,” he growled, tugging up her shift and pulling it over her head.
Completely naked, Helen slid back onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees—totally at a loss for what she should do. “I want you to join with me. And believe me when I say I’ve never uttered such words before. I feel like a virgin.”
“Then I shall be all the more gentle with you.” His voice rumbled like distant thunder.
Tugging her arms open, he crawled over her, and levered himself between her thighs. Helen could not drag her eyes away. The thick column of his erection pointed straight at her nether parts. With a stuttered inhale, Helen prepared herself for a jolt of pain—one she would welcome from Eoin MacGregor.
But he did something completely unexpected.
Rocking back on his haunches, he ran the pad of his thumb down her sex and swirled it through her moisture. “You’re so wet for me.”
“’Tis a good thing?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.
His deep chuckle rolled through her chest. “Aye, a very good thing.”
Helen closed her eyes and moved her hips in tandem with his caresses. Gently, he slipped a finger inside her. In and out—oh, how unbearably tantalizing his touch. Helen’s breathing sped. Never would she have believed she could feel this completely aroused. Only her deep love for Eoin could allow such unabashed intimacy. She opened her eyes and drank in his manhood while Eoin tempted her with his feather-light strokes.
Gasping, she could manage one syllable. “Now.”
Eoin grinned and shifted his hips forward while guiding his erection to her entrance. Helen spread her legs wider. His tip filled her, stretched her taut, yet it felt amazing. She braced herself for the pain.
He took his weight onto his elbows and lay atop her without crushing. Rocking his hips forward, he slid deeper inside while covering her mouth and entwining her tongue with his. Completely and utterly alive, Helen gave in to the most thrilling experience of her life. Devoid of pain, her insides were slick with moisture, and welcomed him, as if telling her this had always been the man with whom she should be joined.
Together their breathing sped as they united in a glorious dance between a man and a woman who’d spent most of their lives suppressing their affection for one another.
Helen closed her eyes and gave in to the amazing merging her body and soul with the only man she had ever loved. The years apart only made their lovemaking all the more enjoyable. Just when she thought the pleasure could not grow better, her body shuddered on a pinnacle of pure ecstasy. Losing complete control, she cried out, bursting into magnificent spasms around him.
Eoin pressed up with his palms and thrust deep and fast. With a basal, shuddering moan, he pulled away and found his release.
Helen smoothed her fingers up and down his back, soothing him while his entire body tremored above her.
Gradually his breathing stilled and he kissed her with a passion more fervent than their first kiss in the shed on that rainy day.
Helen’s heart squeezed tight while a tear moistened the corner of her eye. “I had no idea it could be like this.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Helen’s eyes flew open at the sound of Maggie’s cries. Beside her, Eoin’s body was so warm, she hated to slip out of bed into the chilly morning air. But her daughter needed tending, and through God’s grace, she was now the only person to provide that care. She found her shift in the mussed pile of garments on the floor, and pulled it over her head, then wrapped a woolen blanket around her shoulders. Shuffling to the makeshift cradle, Maggie stopped crying as soon as Helen peered over the edge.
“Are you hungry, lassie?”
Secured by her swaddling clothes, Maggie wiggled and grinned.
“Let us change out these linens first.” Though it was common practice to remove the swaddling linens and dry them by the hearth, Helen found the odor too strong, and she washed them after each use. The bairn seemed to think Helen’s idea was splendid as well, because as soon as the swaddling bands were released, she kicked her legs and gurgled.
“I rather think she likes it when she’s not bound so tight,” Eoin said, leaning against the doorjamb to the bedchamber with a plaid tucked low around his hips. His dark hair mussed and a shadow peppered his face. He stared at Helen with a halfcocked grin, his heavy-lidded eyes reminding her of the unbelievable night they’d shared.
I know I’ll burn in hell for thinking it, but I could stare at that well-muscled chest all day.