“Aye. Not tonight.”
Then he let his hand stroke upward. He filled his palm with her breast. He enjoyed the weight and the size of it while measuring the cadence of her breath and the tightness of her nipple. He felt her roll her shoulders back and down, stretching to give him more room to play. Easy enough to lift his other hand and possess her other breast. The fabric was in the way, but he used it to chaff her nipple when he did not want to squeeze it yet.
“It is different, isn’t it?” he whispered. “When a man’s hands cover you.”
He heard her swallow before she spoke. “You’re verra big, Connall.”
“You are a match for me.”
He shifted his hold then, moving to unbutton her nightrail. The fabric came apart easily, one button releasing at a time until the garment draped across her upper arms and bared her breasts to his caress. Flesh upon flesh then. His hands were calloused, and her skin silky smooth. He stroked her, touching as he willed, waiting for the catch in her breath as she leaned back against him. She liked it best when he tugged at her nipples. She whimpered when he twisted them. And then he kissed along her neck before whispering into her ears.
“Here’s something I’ll bet you could not do.”
“What?”
“You’ve not had a man’s mouth there. You’ve not learned what a man’s tongue can do.”
She had no response to that. He knew her fears threatened to choke her sometimes. This would be indecision as well as fear, so he kept her too busy to argue. He twisted her and set her hand on the bedpost.
Her nightrail fell to her elbow on that side, but on the other, it dropped down to her waist and she shook her arm out of the sleeve. What a glorious sight to see her so before him. Her breasts bared to him and her posture strong. Her eyes were wide, and he thought he could see the beat of her heart tremble at her neck. But it was her breasts that drew him. And the desire to hear her whisper,yes,again.
He kissed the swell of her breasts, then lowered his mouth to her nipple. He teased it with his tongue, then sucked it inside his mouth. Sharp pulls made her gasp. A nip of his teeth had her free hand brushing into his hair. And when he added strokes with his hand on her other breast, she swayed where she stood.
He looked up and smiled at her, pleased to see a dazed look on her face. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted.
“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” he asked. “What a man can do that you cannae?” His brogue was returning as his own blood soared.
“Aye,” she said as she looked at him. She still had a hand in his hair. She brushed through his locks and stroked down his jaw. “Is…the rest different, too?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out, yes?”
She took a shuddery breath. “Yes,” she said, then she released the bedpost and let her gown drop to the floor. She stood naked before him, and he was overcome by the beauty of her. Full breasts, narrow waist, the flare of her hips to cradle a babe, and the muscular strength of her legs. He saw the future in that moment. Here was a woman to stand tall by a man, adding to his strength as they built a good life. From her body would spring healthy children who would grow into powerful adults. She would be the wellspring that nurtured them, and he would be the man who kept them safe.
The image flooded him, and it was all he could do not to drop to his knees before her in worship. She was everything he wanted in one beautiful package.
“Connall?” she whispered.
He couldn’t speak, so he let his body do the talking. He leaned forward and swept her off her feet. She gasped in surprise but kept the sound muted.
He set her down on her bed and followed down immediately afterwards. He needed to kiss this woman. He needed to taste every inch of her. He needed to spread her thighs and plant himself so deeply in her they were joined together forever.
“Con—”
He cut her word off with a kiss. He thrust inside her mouth as if it were his tureen. He plunged in, he conquered her tongue, and he stole her breath from her. So fevered was his possession that he resented that they could not remain joined like this, sharing breath and life without an inch between them.
That could not be sustained. He had to break from her lips, he had to let her inhale apart from him, and so he pressed his mouth to her neck. He pressed his tongue against the pulse point in her neck. And he kissed his way back down to her breasts.
She was not passive as he lathed her nipples. Neither was she silent. She writhed beneath him and wound her hands in his hair. She whispered his name until she finally clenched his hair in her fist and yanked him back.
“Connall!” she hissed, her breath short and tight.
“Mairi?”
“Too much! Too…” Her breath was slowing. “You are too much.”
“You cannot control this,” he said. “This is a horse that gallops free.”
“Connall—”