What was he supposed to say to that? What could he say? He didn’t have the words, so he showed her with his actions. He kissed her, and when she kissed him back, there was the proof of her feelings. How had he not known she loved him before? She had told him in so many ways. But he’d wanted to pretend those looks were just the product of an infatuation.
It was more than infatuation. And he should end this now before he let it go too far and broke her heart.
“Kiss me,” she murmured against his lips, and his heart lurched. He didn’t love her back. He didn’t love anyone—he couldn’t. But he felt something, something more than what he’d wanted to feel. He’d known it the past few days, and it was the reason he tried to keep his distance from her.
But now here they were, and she was asking him to kiss her, touch her. And Christ but he wanted her. She did deserve to have someone she loved show her what passion could be and should be. He wanted to be the one to give her these first pleasures.
She pressed her hips up, sliding against his erection, and he realized he’d lowered himself over her. As much as his body wanted to join with hers, her virginity was for her husband. That didn’t mean Duncan was prepared to be wholly honorable. He was no saint. He lowered his mouth to kiss her throat, and the soft skin there seemed to lead to the soft skin of her bare shoulder and her collarbone and then the gentle swell of her breasts.
Her skin was so soft and sweet. She smelled of rain and starched linen and under all of it the faint scent of vanilla that was her own. He teased her nipple with his tongue while his hand moved under her skirts to mold his hand over her knee then her thigh. She opened for him without him even having to prompt her, and he slid his hand between her thighs. The silk of her inner thighs made his head spin. The heat of her sex was like a beacon calling to him. He slid higher, stroking her soft curls.
Slowly, drawing his tongue over her nipple, he looked up at her. Her eyes were closed, and her chin tilted upward in what looked like sheer pleasure. “I want tae taste ye, lass,” he murmured.
Her eyes opened. “Show me.”
Duncan tried to stop the world from spinning. This woman seemed to have no fear. She was open to his every suggestion, ready for any adventure. He slid down her body, trailing kisses over the material of her dress until he reached the heap of her skirts. He pushed them out of the way, revealing her shapely legs and the triangle of dark hair at their apex. Duncan parted her legs until the pink flesh of her sex was visible. He expected she would resist, but when he looked up at her, she was propped on her elbows looking down at him with curiosity. “Now what will you do?” she asked.
“What do ye want me tae do, lass?”
“Touch me,” she said without any embarrassment.
“Here?” He slid two fingers over her outer lips.
“Sim. More.”
“What if I touch ye with my mouth. Would that shock ye?”
Her eyes widened. “I like when you shock me.”
He chuckled. “I ken ye do. Open wider for me, lass.”
She obeyed, and he parted her lips until he saw the small nub that would bring her to climax. Turning his head, he kissed her inner thighs, moving slowly upward until his mouth brushed her downy hair. She moaned and arched her breasts upward, already seeming to be half in ecstasy.
He touched her outer lips with his tongue then slid over them, deliberately avoiding her clitoris, for fear she would come too fast. She writhed and opened wider, welcoming his touch.
“Duncan,” she said on a breath. Her legs started to tremble as he opened her and slid his tongue against her inner flesh. She was wet and tasted so sweet. He dipped his tongue inside her channel and felt her muscles clench slightly. He could imagine how wet and tight she would feel against his cock.
“Ye like this, lass?” he asked.
She answered with a moan and some unintelligible words. He didn’t think they even made sense in Portuguese. She was lost to sensation, lost to the feel of his mouth against her. Her hips arched as her body sought pleasure. He knew how to give it and slid his tongue slowly upward until he barely touched her plump pearl. She moaned and her head thrashed from side to side. Duncan drew back, then touched the tip of his tongue to her again, this time swirling it over her. Her hands fisted in her skirts as she cried out. Her whole body seemed to vibrate, and he took her hips in his hands to steady her. Her body was tight as a violin string, reaching for the pleasure he could give her.
He flicked at that sensitive bud again, drew back, licked, drew back, and repeated the torment until she was all but begging him por favor.
Finally, he pressed his tongue upon her fully, licking her with a deep sweeping motion. He felt her orgasm shudder through her. Her entire body went rigid for what seemed long moments, then she cried out and her hips undulated violently. He kept his mouth on her, feeling the way her clitoris pulsed against his tongue as her hips drove her harder against his mouth.
Duncan had never found so much pleasure in giving a woman release before. He enjoyed a woman’s pleasure, but then no woman reacted like Ines. No woman reacted to him as she did. She gave her whole self to him, opening to him, not holding anything back. He sincerely hoped Stratford hadn’t come directly to the cottage because her screams were loud enough to be heard outside.
When she finally stilled, only moaning faintly in protest when he tongued her again, he lifted his head and looked at her. He could pleasure her again. She was the sort of woman who could come over and over. He hoped whoever she married realized that about her and gave her many nights full of pleasure. But it was hard to think of her with any other man. It was impossible to imagine another seeing her as she was now. Her lips were slightly swollen and red. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes half-lidded. Her hair was wild, a tangle of chocolate ribbon beneath her. Her dress had all but come off her arms, and her nipples were still hard and had gone dark. The burn of his beard brushing against her sensitive skin was still visible on the curve of her breasts. She looked thoroughly debauched, a woman well-pleasured. A woman no man could resist bedding.
Except Duncan had to resist.
He moved away from her, and she opened her eyes. “Come here,” she said, lifting her arms to him. He wanted to go into those arms. He wanted her to press against him, but if he did, she would never leave this cottage a virgin.
“I need some air,” he said, rising to his knees. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”
She frowned, some of the pleasurable haze clearing from her vision. “Duncan?”
“Just give me a moment, lass.” He stood on shaky legs and walked, unsteadily, out into the cold rain.
He shivered in the cool night air, but he knew it would take more than this to cool his need for her. Duncan feared it might never be extinguished.
Fifteen
EMMELINE
When Loftus returned without Stratford, Emmeline began to worry. She hadn’t worried when Mr. Murray and Stratford left without her. She hadn’t worried when Loftus whined to follow, and she was left alone. She hadn’t worried when the rain had started pouring down. She’d huddled under a tree with a blanket over her head and stayed, if not, dry, drier than she might have without the protection of the large tree limbs and the thick blanket.
Emmeline was not cold. Her body shivered, but inside she was warm with happiness.