Authors: Hannah Howell
“Ye dinnae need to be too exact, Iain,” she said softly and trembled when he stroked her thigh.
“I dinnae think I can be.” He leaned down to tease at her hardened nipples with his tongue. “Ye moved.”
Clenching her hands which had begun to reach for him, she muttered huskily, “’Tis harder than I thought. Iain, when did ye decide to stop running? It wasnae just today was it?” She fought to keep her mind on the conversation and not on the hand caressing her thighs and legs and making her ache. “Was it when MacLennon was killed?” She moaned softly when he began to suckle gently.
“Nay, before that. When ye were taken by Fraser I thought my reasons for keeping a distance justified. If ye could feel but a part of the pain that seared me when I thought ye dead, then t’was my duty to protect ye from it. E’en then I think I kenned I hoped to protect myself too, to pull back some. T’was myself I feared for as much as ye.” After savoring the view of her breasts damp and swollen from his attentions, he turned his amorous skills upon her midriff. “Ye are squirming, lass.”
“I will make ye pay for this, Iain MacLagan.”
“I will consider that a promise,” he murmured, moving so that he was sprawled between her thighs. “Now, I was going to tell ye what changed my mind.” He encircled her navel with kisses as his hands gently stroked her hips.
“I think ye best hurry, Iain.”
“But, sweeting, I was meaning to go slow with ye. ’Tis all I have thought on these last months.”
“I meant hurry and finish talking,” she rasped as he scattered kisses down her leg.
“Alexander changed my mind.”
“Alexander?” she croaked as he held her foot and slowly kissed each toe.
“Aye. He got me to thinking on how only God can decide when someone will die, that I didnae have to be killed by MacLennon. He got me thinking on how I was depriving both of us, wasting the precious time God had given us.” He started up her other leg. “His words swam around in my mind for days but took firm hold when ye came to Muircraig, when ye seduced me. That ye would do that told me ye werenae happy with the way things were and I wasnae either. I also finally admitted to myself that I sought to protect myself as much as ye. I had wasted so many months of both our lives.” He kissed the top of each inner thigh, then placed his lips upon the soft, heated warmth between them. “I will waste no more.”
Very quickly Islaen gave up all attempts to be still. She arched to his intimate caress, then tried to pull him into her embrace. A soft cry of frustrated need escaped her when he slowly made his way back up her body, then joined their bodies with an equal leisureliness, seemingly oblivious to her near frantic need. Her eyes closed with pleasure as she felt the union of their bodies but flew open again when he did not move but lay still, cupping her face in his hands.
“Aye keep those lovely eyes open,” he rasped, his control nearly breaking as he strained to move within her eager body with a slow, measured stroke. “I want to see your pleasure. I want to see how black your eyes grow making the gold shine as if polished.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I want ye to see my pleasure, dearling, to see what ye do to me.” Seeing how close she was to her release, sensing it and wanting to be there with her, his thrusts grew fiercer. “Aye, sweet Islaen, look deep. I want ye to see my love,” he rasped softly even as she cried out with her release.
Holding her tightly he let her drag him into desire’s abyss with her, groaning his delight over the way her body drank of his. When he felt recovered enough, he propped himself up on his elbows and stared down at her. Lightly kissing her still-flushed face he deemed her lovely beyond compare. He felt a strong pleasure, even pride, in the fact that he could bring her such happiness, a fact she had never tried to hide from him. Iain hoped that that was a sign that his feelings were or soon could be returned in full. He admitted that he needed her to love him, needed it badly.
Islaen was almost afraid to open her eyes. She could hear his passion-roughened voice speaking of love, but feared it had been a dream, a delusion inspired by her own desires. So many times had she prayed to hear those words that she found it easy to disbelieve her own ears. She also feared that she might give into the strong temptation to ask him if she had heard right and thereby embarrass herself, making her own hopes clear, or completely destroy this new blossoming openness Iain was revealing by pushing too hard.
“Ah, ye cannae go to sleep yet, wee Islaen.” He touched his lips to hers.
“I wasnae asleep.” She opened her eyes slowly.
“T’will be different now, Islaen. I swear it to ye. I ken I will need time to prove myself to ye…”
“Nay, Iain.”
“Lass, I havenae been a good husband. I havenae given ye what I ken ye needed.”
“Ye ne’er promised me anything, Iain, save to say that ye were no wencher nor wife beater. Ye havenae e’er lied to me either. If ye say things will be different now, then I believe ye. I may be a bit slow to believe, but only because change takes getting used to, and because I have wanted it so badly I may fear I have fooled myself into thinking I have it.”
He lightly traced the delicate lines of her face. “I dinnae deserve ye, Islaen. Ye have had a lot of patience with this fool.”
“Ye arenae a fool, Iain. Ye did what ye felt was right and kind. Just because we didnae all agree with it doesnae mean ye are a fool. I also have no choice.” She ran her fingers through his hair and smiled a little sadly, knowing she could no longer hold back the words that filled her heart, yet still afraid of the reception such a declaration would get. “Aye, I was angry at times, e’en bitter, but I couldnae stop, couldnae turn from the path I was on, not since I first set eyes upon ye.”
There was a look in her eyes that had him tense, almost breathless. “Why couldnae ye, Islaen? Why?”
So intense was his gaze that she found she could not look away even though she wanted to. “Because I love ye,” she whispered and not only found herself the recipient of a very fierce kiss but felt him harden within her. “Weel,” she gasped when his mouth finally freed hers and he held her tightly, his face pressed against her neck, “that wasnae what I expected to happen.”
“Why not?” he asked huskily as he looked at her, his hand moving slowly over her curves. “Shouldnae a mon be delighted, nay, overjoyed, to discover his love returned e’en though he’s done his best to kill all chance of it?”
“His love returned?”
“Aye, Islaen, didnae ye hear me or had pleasure deafened ye?” he teased.
“I wasnae sure. I have wanted ye to say the words for so long that I feared I was now making myself hear them, dreaming them if ye will.”
“Nay, dearling, ye werenae dreaming. I love ye.” He laughed-softly when she hugged him tightly. “Ye neednae squeeze the words out of me. They will come freely and often now.”
“I pray so for I will ne’er tire of hearing them. Och, Iain, I have loved ye for so long and I was so afraid I would ne’er find it returned, that I wasnae the one ye could love.”
“Ah, Islaen, ’tis ye I love and I kenned it coming from the start. Ye bewitched me,” he murmured as he turned so that she was sprawled on top of him. “I will love away all your doubts.”
Propping herself up so that she could see him, she started to say that she had none, that her heart and her eyes told her he spoke the truth, but then she smiled slowly. “Weel, I think I feel a wee doubt coming on.”
Seeing the mischief in her face, he grinned. “Then I best love it away. Do ye think
ye will need proof of my love often?”
“Oh, aye,” she breathed as she bent to kiss him, “in this life and beyond.”
“T’will be no trouble as long as ye love me back, Islaen.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
“In this life and beyond.”
“Aye, in this life and beyond.”
Hannah Howell is an award-winning author who lives with her family in Massachusetts. She is the author of twenty-three Zebra historical romances, and is currently working on a new Highland historical romance,
Highland Wolf
, to be released in December 2007! Hannah loves hearing from readers, and you may visit her Web site: www.hannahhowell.com.