“Ian!” she gasped, hands bracing against his shoulders.
“Ye’re drivin’ me to madness, woman,” he muttered, gripping her hips to steady her as the carriage rocked.
Her breath came quicker now, color blooming across her cheeks.
“We’re in the carriage,” she whispered.
“I ken where we are,” he replied, eyes dark. “And I kept me end of the bargain. I brought ye out, made ye smile, gave ye a fine day.”
Her fingers tightened slightly in his coat. “Ye did.”
“And I’ll nae disrespect ye by takin’ ye here for the first time,” he said roughly. “But I cannae wait another moment to have a taste.”
Her lips parted softly at his words. “A taste?” she echoed, voice trembling between protest and anticipation.
“Aye,” he murmured, sliding one hand upward along her back. “Just a reminder that ye’re mine.”
She searched his face for a heartbeat, then her expression softened. “Ye’re bold today.”
“I’ve been patient long enough.”
She exhaled slowly. “Then daenae keep waitin’.”
That was all the invitation he needed. He cupped her jaw and claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss, hunger and restraint tangling in equal measure. For a breath, she stilled in surprise, then shemelted against him, kissing him back with heat that sent fire racing through his veins.
Her fingers slipped into his hair as the carriage rattled onward.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Arianna scarcely understood when desire had rooted itself so deeply within her, only that it now pulsed warm and insistent beneath her skin.
Ian’s mouth on hers lingered like a spark that refused to fade, and each glance he gave her stoked it higher.
She had once thought herself composed and cautious, yet her body betrayed her with longing she could not tame. It was not only his strength that drew her, but the way he watched her as though she were something precious and fiercely guarded.
She shifted on his lap in the dim carriage, her fingers curling into the front of his coat. “Ye look at me as though ye mean to devour me,” she whispered.
“Mayhap I do,” Ian replied, his voice roughened by restraint.
Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. “Then daenae stop,” she breathed, surprising even herself.
She leaned forward first this time, claiming his mouth with a hunger that startled her. The kiss deepened slowly, unhurried but fervent, his hand firm at her waist while hers traced the line of the scar along his jaw. She felt the strength in him, the power.
“Ian,” she murmured against his lips, her breath warm between them.
“Aye, lass,” he answered softly.
Her hands slid to his shoulders, feeling the solid breadth beneath his coat. The carriage rocked gently, but she hardly noticed, consumed by the warmth building where their bodies met. His mouth trailed from her lips to her cheek and down the curve of her neck. She shivered.
“Ye tremble,” he observed quietly.
“I cannae help it,” she confessed. “Ye make me feel… undone.”
A low sound rumbled in his chest at her admission. He drew back slightly, studying her flushed face in the lantern’s faint glow. “Ye’ve been on yer feet half the day,” he said after a moment. “Yer legs must ache from all that runnin’.”
She blinked in surprise at the shift in his tone. “A little,” she admitted.
Without another word, he adjusted her carefully, guiding her to sit sideways across his lap. His large hands slid down to her calves, lifting one gently. “Let me,” he said.
