Instead of answering with words, he reached for her, his hands coming to her shoulders, firm yet careful. She tensed at first, uncertain, but then his touch shifted, slower, deliberate.
He kissed her neck. A soft sound escaped her before she could stop it, her eyes fluttering closed as his lips pressed into her skin.
“Ye are sweet as honey, lass,” he murmured, his voice low, almost thoughtful.
She let out a shaky breath, her hands gripping the edge of the bedding.
“What do ye do to me?” she replied faintly.
He huffed a quiet breath, his fingers working along the sides of her body.
“I mean to please ye,” he said.
Her body betrayed her entirely then, leaning into his kiss and touch as though it had been starved of such care. His handsmoved with surprising skill along her body, sending warmth spreading through her in slow, intoxicating waves.
“James…” she whispered, unsure whether she meant to protest or plead for more.
He didn't stop, his hands sliding lower, tracing the line of hips.
“Lay back, lass,” he said softly, though the command held none of its usual edge.
She obeyed without thinking, her breath growing uneven as sensation unfurled through her. Every inch of her seemed to awaken beneath his touch, as though she had been half-asleep until now.
When his hands moved back up to her cleavage, she startled slightly, her breath catching as his touch brushed her creamy mounds.
“What are ye about now?” she asked, though the question came out as a soft whisper.
He glanced up at her briefly, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
“Trust me. I willnae do more than ye allow,” he said simply, and there was something in his voice that made her do just that.
His hands worked gently at first, and pushed the fabric of her chemise down exposing her bosom.
“James…” she moaned.
He didn't answer. Instead he kissed her rosy peaks, softly.
A quiet sigh slipped from her lips as the tension melted beneath his touch. She felt his tongue roam over her sensitive points.
“I didnae ken it could feel like this,” she murmured, her voice dazed.
A faint smirk touched his mouth. “There is much ye daenae ken.”
Her head fell back against the bed, her breath uneven as his hands moved slowly along her breasts, careful, deliberate, yet charged with something far more dangerous beneath the surface.
Every movement sent a shiver through her, her fingers curling into the blankets as though to steady herself.
“This is… unfair,” she whispered, though there was no strength left in her protest.
He paused briefly, his hands stilling, his gaze lifting to hers. “Unfair?” he echoed quietly.
She nodded faintly, her cheeks flushed, her eyes half-lidded. “Aye… for ye ken exactly what ye are doing.”
Something dark and heated flickered in his expression at that. “And that is a bad thing?” he asked, his voice low.
She swallowed, her gaze dropping to his hands before lifting again, meeting his eyes.
“Nay,” she said softly.
