He pulled me back to him, quite forcibly, so I was pressed up against him once more. His body was remarkably hard against my softness. “This remedy,” he said, and he fit his hand around the base of my skull, to pull my face to his as he lifted his head. “A kiss, Roses. Kiss me like you kissed me in my dreams.”
* * *
“AYE,WARRIOR. I’LLKISSYOU.Now be still. You’ll overtax yourself.”
He obeyed, and his body relaxed. I touched my hands to his shoulders, to relax him further. I ran my fingers along his jaw. I touched his hair and smoothed its thick silk layers. I traced one finger across his lips. His breath was hot against my fingers. I leaned farther over him, breathing his breath, and when my hair brushed against his chest, he made a sound, like a soft sigh. I touched my lips to his mouth. That flavor of him, as I’d tasted twice before, was wickedly alluring. Wanting more of it, I licked his top lip, pushing tiny licks into his mouth, as he’d taught me, sucking gently on his lips and the tip of his tongue as I kissed him, savoring the all-tempting essence of him.
“Warrior?” I whispered.
“Aye.”
“Is this kiss remedying you?”
“Nay, lass.”
I stopped. “Nay?”
“My fever is far more acute than it ever was.”
I touched my hand to his forehead again. He smiled at my confusion.
“My innocent Roses. Stay close to me. My fever burns for you and can only be calmed by your body. And I can soothe you, too, sweet Roses. You must let me.”
I wanted to let him. But there was a small reticence in me. “What should I do?” My inexperience was fairly embarrassing at my age. I’d been too preoccupied with work duties to wonder beyond them. Until now. And I was beginning to understand the new fever he spoke of. This warmth, this feeling of heat. Of tingling need. His dark blue eyes were lust-drowsed and hungry for more of my kisses, I could sense this.
“You’re getting better, lass.”
“Better at what?”
“Better at heeding my commands.”
I smiled. “Aye. I get into trouble when I don’t heed your commands.”
“You and I both. Now you’ll do as I tell you.”
I was nervous at what he might command me to do, yet in my heart and my very bones, everything about this close company of Wilkie Mackenzie felt right. To look at him, to touch him, to be touched by him: these were the things that felt most important to me at that moment.
“Roses, my sun, my golden light. I must be careful with you. I’ll not hurt you, nor take you. Not yet.” His words had a strange, thawing effect on me; my skin felt dewy and hypersensitive. “You’ll do as I say.”
The beauty of his face, artfully shadowed and lit from the fading firelight, it fairly stunned me.
“Aye, warrior,” I whispered.
He wrapped his hand around the nape of my neck, pulling my face closer to his. “Kiss me again.”
I did, kissing him gently, exploring his lips with my tongue, pushing just inside his mouth. He returned the kiss, fitting his mouth to mine, tasting, delving into me more insistently, feeding me with his taste and his fire, which seemed to ignite my body with a pleasurable flush.
I felt his hand on the back of my thigh, over the light cloth of my underclothing. He pulled me harder against him, so I was slightly straddling his leg, still clad in the rough leather of his trews. He held me with surprising gentleness, introducing a lazy rhythm as he rubbed me against him, still playing my tongue with the luring pulls of his mouth. Shockingly, the rolling clench of his hand on the barely shielded skin of my backside fed a spiky warmth to the sensitive place between my legs. He took his time, ever so slightly increasing the pressure and the pace. His strength gave him total control, and he continued to work my body with his hands, squeezing and caressing in undulating grasps. I didn’t know what he was doing. Orhowhe could be doing it. But the building sensation was so needy, so sweet, with its promising, blinding forward momentum, I felt myself rocking ever so slightly against him, melting under his touch. The fever of my body grew in its power until it overwhelmed me, coursing with a compounding swell to surge through my very core, spasming in delightful, nearly unendurable bursts. I coiled and moaned with an almost painful pleasure, unable to quiet myself as the sweet fire pulsed through me.
The waves calmed, and I slumped against him, weakly kissing his lips. My body felt heavy and honey-soaked.
“Warrior.”
“Hush now.”
He drew the furs over us, and I barely registered the warning footsteps, the click and creak of the door opening. I knew I should have hidden myself or fled. To be caught like this, scantily clad in Wilkie’s bed and locked in an inappropriately intimate embrace: the entire scenario should have been mortifying. My reputation—if I even possessed one now—would be even more tattered than it already was. But I was too entranced by him, by what he’d just done to my body. I couldn’t quite summon the shame or even the energy to remove myself from him, not from within this hazed stupor that radiated from my deepest depths. I was floating as though in a wondrous dream where reputations mattered little and the only consideration was the nearness of my warrior.
“Availing yourself to healing remedies, I see, brother.” I recognized Kade Mackenzie’s low voice but had no compunction to open my eyes; they felt as heavy and sated as the rest of me. “Just checking to see that you’re still alive.”
