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“You have long eyelashes, for a man, that is.” She feathered her touch over his eyelids before running her fingers through his shoulder-length locks. “And your hair, too. You have no beard though there are whiskers here.” She scraped her fingers over his jaw.
“I prefer to be clean-shaven, though I have had no opportunity to address the matter since Alnwick.”
“I am keeping you from seeking your comfort.”
Blair groaned. If she but knew. “No, madam, you are not. Not exactly. Can I assume, since you have asked me questions, that I may now speak? Have you formed your impressions?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for your patience.”
“You are most welcome. Now, it is my turn.”
Her response was a brief nod. She lifted her hands to cover her naked breasts again. Blair allowed himself a smile; he would soon deal with her modesty.
“I would like you to turn slightly and rest against me. You may lean on my shoulder. And place your hands behind your back, if you would.”
She hesitated for but a moment, then her eyes remained closed as she arranged herself as directed. Blair was pleased at her ready obedience, he loved a woman to accept his commands. He especially appreciated such an attitude from a half-naked woman lying in his arms.
He started at her throat, caressing the slender column briefly before he once more kissed her lips. She appeared to enjoy the experience for she opened her mouth and poked the tip of her tongue out to moisten her soft lips. Blair groaned inwardly before he leaned in to lend his efforts to hers by licking her lower lip. After all, he had not promised to only touch her with his fingers.
“Oh.” She let out a startled exclamation, but that was as far as the protest went.
Blair deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips when she parted them to allow him entry. He twisted it around hers, intrigued at the manner in which she returned his enthusiasm. He was willing to bet the little Sassenach had never been kissed before and she appeared to rather like the new experience.
He cupped her full breast in his hand and squeezed gently. She arched her back, thrusting the plump mound against his palm. He shifted the angle a little, enough that he could brush her budding nipple with his fingers. It hardened at his touch, swelling and lengthening. He took it between his finger and thumb and pressed, soft at first, then harder. She made a purring sound in her throat and Blair wondered that she did not feel his cock, the hard length solid against her hip. Maybe she did but had no notion what it might be. Was she indeed so innocent?
He switched his attention to her other breast to bring the nipple there to the same state of pebbled arousal. He dragged his mouth from hers to work his way down her neck and shoulder, to fasten his lips around one swollen pink bud. He flicked it with his tongue then scraped with his teeth.
Roselyn writhed in his arms, but still she kept her hands behind her back and remained in the position he had set for her.
He shifted to suck on the other nipple whilst maintaining the pressure with his fingers. He squeezed harder, but relaxed his grip when she stiffened. He had sworn not to hurt her, though he sensed ambivalence in her response. Some women enjoyed pain, just as he enjoyed inflicting it on a willing female. He feasted on their submission, relished their freely offered surrender. Was Lady Roselyn of such a bent? It was early in their acquaintance, he barely knew her, but he sensed she might be.
He trailed moist kisses across her stomach until he reached the barrier of her leather belt, still secured about her narrow waist. He ached to loosen it, to shove the remaining fabric of her kirtle down her hips and away. He desired unfettered access to her body, but the choice must be hers. And despite her obvious pleasure in his touch, it was too soon to ask more of her. Worse, she might mistake his desire for coercion. He could not forget that he held her life in his hands as well as her body, and he would do well not to confuse matters further than he already had.
“Roselyn, would you like me to aid you to get dressed?”
“My lord?” Her eyelids flickered as she turned her lavender gaze on him. “Is that…? I mean, are we finished?”
“Finished? I doubt that, my wee Sassenach. But for now it will have to be sufficient.”
“Please, what does that word mean? What do you intend to do to me?”
“Be easy, ‘tis not a threat. Sassenach is merely a Gaelic word. Here in the Highlands we use it to mean a lowlander or English.”
She nodded slowly. “I understand. It is not a pleasant word, I think?”
“No, not entirely,” he conceded though he was damned if he would offer an apology for any perceived insult. She was still his prisoner, even if her situation was more complicated than he had initially assumed. “We still have much to resolve, you and I.”
He eased his arm behind her to help her into a sitting position then stood with Roselyn in his arms. He set her feet down on the oak floor and held her until she steadied. “Remain there. I shall retrieve your undergarment.”
She stood quite still as he pulled her leine back into place and eased it under the waist fastening of her skirts. Then he rearranged the bodice of her kirtle before refastening the ties at her throat. He had barely finished when there was a knock at the door.
“Come,” he commanded.
Elspeth entered. “Do you require more food, Laird? Shall I have the hot water sent up for your bath?”
“What? Nay, I’m nae hungry. But I shall have the bathwater, if ye would.” What had he been thinking, pawing at Lady Roselyn like some randy farm lad while still covered in the grime of his travels across the country?
“Robbie tells me that the poor wee lassie is tae be removed tae the dungeons. Ye’ll be requirin’ guards, then tae take her down there?”
