His hand moved to her waist, resting there with deliberate restraint, and the contact alone made her shiver. Eva pressed closer without thinking, drawn to his warmth like a moth to flame.
“Daenae stop,” she whispered, emboldened by the way his body responded to her touch.
Connor’s hand slid down her arm, his fingers lacing with hers as if to anchor them both. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, reverent and unhurried, before guiding her to the bed.
“I willnae rush ye,” he said, his tone solemn despite the fire in his eyes. “But I cannae pretend I daenae want ye.”
Eva’s heart fluttered at the honesty in his words, and she nodded, unable to find her voice.
She sat back on the bed. His arm curved around her back, holding her close without trapping her. In that embrace, she felt safe and desired in equal measure as he placed kisses down her neck onto her chest.
But he didn’t stop there. Her eyes grew wide as he kissed down her body until he pushed her skirts to her waist. She wanted him to stop out of sheer embarrassment, but the desire was too strong.
He carefully pulled the layers of underthings off of her, leaving on her stockings that were tied with ribbon at her thighs. He placed a soft kiss on each ribbon.
Eva’s chest heaved up and down. Unsure of what to make of this man between her thighs, kissing her most intimate places.
His hand slid up and rested on her sacred center.
“Oh,” she gasped.
“Shh, ye will see, lass,” he said.
Eva felt the warmth of Connor’s thumb settle on her rosebud, steady and sure, as though he were afraid she might vanish if he pressed too hard.
His thumb began to work in slow circles. She let out a breath she had not realized she’d been holding. The simple intimacy of thetouch made her knees soften again, not with heat this time, but with a deep, soothing pulse.
She closed her eyes, allowing herself to trust the moment.
“That’s it. Let me pleasure ye,” Connor murmured, his voice low and gentle.
His finger moved with skill.
Eva gave a small, embarrassed laugh, “It tickles.”
“Let it be. Daenae fight it,” he replied softly.
As his other hand traced slow, respectful paths along her leg, Eva became acutely aware of every place he touched. The warmth of his palms seeped into her, loosening something tight and guarded inside her chest.
She rested her hands on his shoulders, grounding herself as sensation rippled outward.
“Yer hands are magic,” she said quietly, in awe.
“I could say the same of ye,” he said, his thumb moving faster as if to emphasize his words.
Her cheeks warmed at the movement, and she shook even as she smiled. She had never thought of herself that way, never allowed such thoughts to linger. That she could please a man like him.
“Ye daenae need to flatter me,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction as she could barely say the words.
Connor’s hands resumed their slow path, thumb pressing just enough to make her gasp.
“I speak only what I see,” he replied, his tone firm with certainty.
His fingers brushed lightly along her thigh, and he added, “Yer skin, smooth as porcelain, warm as the hearth, and far more precious.”
Eva’s breath caught at the words, her heart thudding hard as she absorbed them. No one had ever spoken of her like that, as though she were something to be treasured.
“Ye make it hard nae to believe ye,” she admitted, her voice soft and unguarded.
