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‘I want your scent with me when I think of you tonight, Jo. Think about that when you slip into the bed we shared come evening. I’ll be miles away, but thinking of touching you, tasting you...’
‘Stop.’
Her cry was one of pain as she clasped his nape, her cheek pressing against his, her breath hard and fast. The force of her fingertips against his flesh was painful, but it was as welcome as a full surrender. She was still so tightly held, so much Joane, but he wanted Jo to come forward as she had last night in her room, to tell him she wanted him.
He pressed his mouth to the hollow just below her ear, his tongue capturing her flavour. His hand traced down the other side of her neck, tickling the edge of her bodice before gently settling on her breast, a light, feathering touch that soon felt the answering hardening of her nipple. He wanted to see her bared to him in full daylight. He wanted to make love to her under the sun and sky. With each sweep of his hand and mouth he hardened, too, his erection a hot demand straining against his buckskins.
‘Tasting every inch, Jo. Every inch of skin you can see and every inch you can’t.’
He let his hands sink lower and when he pressed it against the apex of her thighs she rose against it with a breathy denial. His hand fisted on the fabric of her skirt and he closed his teeth gently on the petal-soft lobe of her ear.
‘Will you think of this when you touch yourself tonight, Jo?’
‘What?’
‘I want you to touch yourself and think of me tonight.’
‘Touch myself?’
Her voice was lost and fading and his sanity was following fast, but he drew back at that, keeping his hand on her thigh, gently kneading. Her eyes were dark and her mouth was warm with colour, as if he had already kissed her senseless, but there was no recognition. Last night he had been too caught up in his own arousal to think about the peculiarity that her husband had never introduced her to what he would have considered basic intimacies between a man and a woman. Still, he knew many of his peers regarded intercourse with their wives on a different plane than that with their mistresses. Or perhaps Alfred might have been as innocent as she before their wedding.
Whatever the case, he felt a surge of atavistic satisfaction. He might not be able to keep this passionate lover for himself, but he could at least be the one to initiate her to the gift of pleasing herself. It was selfish, too—he hated thinking she might one day have other lovers, that someone else would tap her passion. He should wish it for her, but right now he couldn’t. So if she learned with him the joy of pleasing herself, perhaps he could fool himself into imagining she did not need another man.
It was selfish, greedy, unfair, but undeniable.
He wanted to keep her.
He pushed the thought away before it sank its teeth into him.
‘So, we will have to do something about that when I return, mo leannan.’
‘What does that mean?’ she whispered.
He leaned his forehead briefly against hers before moving away. He had no right to say those words to her.
‘I will tell you when we return...’
He fell silent as the spectre of the McCrieffs rose again.
‘Goodbye, Jo. Take good care of Jamie.’
‘Of course I shall.’
He made it to the door when her voice stopped him, a little breathless and more than a little enthusiastic.
‘Do you mean it is possible to do...that...for myself?’
He curled his hand hard on the door frame.
‘Are you expressly trying to kill me? Yes, of course it is possible. If it wasn’t, there would hardly be sermons denouncing it, would there?’
Her eyes widened.
‘Oh, is that what it means?’
He rubbed his jaw, so tempted to drag her out of his chair, haul up her skirts and do something about the raging fire in his buckskins. At this rate he would come before he made it out the castle gates.
‘If there wasn’t so much riding on this meeting in Kilmarchie, I would take you upstairs and show you precisely what it means.’
She clasped her hands together, her cheeks flushed.
‘You should leave, then.’
‘Yes. Tomorrow I will meet you and Jamie. And when we return...’
He fell silent and forced himself to leave before he lost all sight of his priorities.
