Encouraged, she let her fingers drift into his hair, combing gently through the dark strands at his temple. His hands slid to her waist, steady and possessive, drawing her closer. The contact made her stomach flutter, a warm ache spreading outward from where their bodies met.
“Ye feel so strong,” she murmured.
“I am strong,” he moaned, his hands tightening slightly at her hips. “But I’d never use that strength against ye.”
“I ken that,” she whispered.
His kiss against her moist petals was slower than before, unhurried yet full of intent. She sighed softly as his mouth claimed her sweet center with reverent heat.
Her fingers threaded through his hair as she pressed him closer. Each pass of his tongue left her breathless, her skin alive where he touched.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against her.
“I willnae,” she answered, her voice trembling with honesty.
He licked her again, deeper this time. It made her body weak.
“Ye’re beautiful,” he said gruffly.
Her cheeks warmed, but she did not look away. “Only because ye look at me as though I am.”
Her hands traveled down from his head to his shoulders, squeezing gently, savoring the breadth and solidity of him.
“Oh, oh, something is happening to me,” she moaned.
“Let it happen, lass. Daenae fight it,” he groaned.
His tongue moved faster and faster. The deep pulse within her moved to a throbbing force that built up until it exploded.
“Oh, Ian,” she said. “I cannae think when ye hold do this,” she confessed softly.
“Then daenae think,” he murmured. “Just feel.”
She did. She felt the warmth of a flood release from her. It left tingles in its wake. She felt the gentle squeeze of his hands at her waist and his mouth softly kissing her between her thighs.
“I didnae expect this,” she admitted. “To feel this so fiercely.”
“And I didnae expect ye to want me at all,” he said.
“Ye were wrong.”
Arianna felt the awakening within her not as something wild and reckless, but as a flame tended carefully by his hands.
Arianna’s breath had barely steadied when a daring thought slipped past her restraint.
“And how,” she asked softly, “might I please ye in return?”
A low groan rumbled from his chest before he could stop it. He positioned himself back on the seat. He dragged a hand down his face as though composing himself. “Woman,” he muttered, voice strained, “ye test the last of me restraint.”
Her lips curved despite her nervousness. “’Tis a fair question.”
“Aye,” he conceded, shifting beneath her as the carriage wheels crunched over gravel. “But it will have to wait.”
She blinked. “Wait?”
He leaned toward the small window and exhaled sharply. “We’re about to pass through the castle gates. If ye value what little composure we have left, we’ll save that lesson for another night.”
Realization struck her like a splash of cold water. She gasped softly and glanced down, suddenly aware of her disheveled state. With a flustered sound, she hastily smoothed her skirts, tugging the fabric into place.
