Page 21 of The Guardian

They moved toward each other as if drawn by an invisible thread, pulled by something older than memory, stronger than reason. Their mouths met in a clash of heat and longing, lips melding with an urgency that stole her breath. Her arms slid around his neck, fingers threading through the thick strands of his hair, anchoring herself to the only man who had ever undone her with a single glance.

He groaned into the kiss, deep and raw, pulling her hard against him. The rigid planes of his chest pressed against her softness, his body a furnace of want. His hand cradled the back of her head while his tongue claimed her mouth, sweeping it with hunger, tasting her like a man starved of both sustenance and hope.

The kiss shattered every wall she’d built. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her breath hitched with every press of his lips. She moaned, a soft, involuntary sound, when his hand slid along her spine, pressing her closer, tighter still. Heat bloomed low in her belly, spreading like wildfire through her limbs.

Hendry was the only man who’d ever made her feel this way, like her skin was too tight, like her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest. Her knees weakened and her body trembled beneath the onslaught of sensations.

Then his hand found her breast.

Ailith gasped, head falling back as his fingers teased the peak through the fabric, then beneath it. Her moan was soft but desperate, laced with disbelief that this was real. That he was here. Touching her like this. Loving her.

His mouth left hers and trailed down her neck, tongue drawing heated circles just beneath her jaw. At the same time, his thumb teased her nipple, mimicking the rhythm of his tongue, coaxing her body to arch into him with a will of its own.

She wrapped an arm around his waist, hand splaying across the muscles of his back. Gods, he felt the same…strong and solid and maddeningly perfect. Memories flooded in. His bare skin beneath her touch was the temptation she’d resisted when she’d bathed him. Though every inch of him had begged to be kissed.

This time, she wouldn’t resist.

When his mouth found her breast, taking the stiffened peak between his lips, a cry escaped her. Half whisper. Half plea. “Hendry…”

At the sound of his name, he growled low in his throat, a sound that slid down her spine and set her trembling. His tongue worked its wicked magic. Swirling. Teasing. Drawing her deeper into a haze of ecstasy.

Everything else disappeared. The world around them ceased to exist. There were no trees, no wind, no sky.

Only him.

Only the man who had once broken her heart, and was now making it beat again with wild, aching need.

And she wanted nothing more.

When Hendry finally pulled back, he gently readjusted her blouse and held her by the shoulders, his touch trembling with restraint. Ailith stood dazed, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Heart thundering like hooves on stone.

“Wh-what…” she whispered, her mind fogged from the searing heat that had just passed between them. Her gaze lingered on his lips, kiss-swollen and trembling with words he hadn’t yet spoken.

But she didn’t hear him. Her own pulse roared too loudly in her ears.

“I’m sorry, what did ye say?” she finally asked, voice barely above a breath.

“I cannae do this,” Hendry said, his voice rough. “Not until I ken why did ye nae wait for me?”

The question hit her like a slap. Cold, cruel, and cutting.

Her breath caught. “What?” she whispered, then louder, angrier. “What?”

Emotion surged like a wave, dousing the warmth between them. Her heart twisted as disbelief turned to fury.

“How dare ye ask me that?” Her voice shook with wounded rage. “After what ye did, ye have the audacity to question my loyalty?”

His brows knit, confusion flickering across his face. “What do ye think I did?”

“I dinnae think, Hendry, I ken.” Her laugh was bitter, sharp. “I was told what ye were doing while apart from me. Taking maids to yer bed. Other women. Regularly.”

His face hardened, lips pressing into a tight line. But she couldn’t look away, not from the rise and fall of his chest, not from the hurt gathering in his stormy eyes.

“And ye believed it,” he said, quietly. “After everything. Ye believed I’d betray what we had.”

“Ye expected I wouldn’t find out?” she challenged, crossing her arms even as her throat tightened.

“And yet,” he pressed, stepping forward, “ye didn’t come to me. Didn’t ask if it were true. Ye took the word of some whispering tongue over the man who loved ye beyond sense or salvation.”