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She blinked and then stared at him doubtfully. Edith did know the basics and that a man generally inserted his fiddle in a woman to breach her maidenhead. However, she found it hard to believe anything had survived the explosion of pleasure she'd experienced. Besides, she'd felt something push into her at the end. That was what had set off the explosion. Of course, his head had been between her legs with his fiddle nowhere near that part of her, she realized, flushing. "But I felt something--"
"Me finger," he interrupted gently. "Yer virginity is still intact."
"Oh." Blushing, Edith lowered her head.
"I do no' want to marry ye because I've ruined ye. I want to marry ye because . . . well, frankly, because I want to ruin ye," Niels admitted on a wry laugh and then shrugged apologetically. "I want ye something fierce, Edith."
When she frowned and began to lower her head again, he added quickly, "But I like ye too."
Pausing, she glanced back up at him uncertainly.
"I'll no' lie and say I love ye, lass," he added solemnly. "'Tis too soon fer that, and I do no' wish there to be lies between us, but I do like ye. I think ye're a fine woman, beautiful and smart. More importantly, ye're kind too. Ye care fer the well-being o' yer people, and ye take in strays who need a home. Ye've a good heart, Edith, and I like that about ye." Smiling again, he added, "And the fact that I want ye too jest makes it all the sweeter. I think we could be happy together."
Edith stared at him for several minutes, replaying his words through her mind. She liked that he wouldn't lie and claim he loved her. And she liked him too. She liked how kind and patient he was with both her and Ronson, and she liked how he managed Laddie with firm affection. And she too wanted him, desperately. No one had ever made her feel even a small percentage of the passion he'd roused in her, which perhaps wasn't saying much since she'd never even been kissed before him, but she knew enough to understand that the passion he inspired in her was rare and she'd be lucky to have it in her marriage bed. Even more importantly though, she liked and respected Niels and she also thought they could be happy together.
Releasing the breath she'd been holding, Edith let her gown drop and leaned up to press her lips to his, but her mouth barely brushed his when Niels pulled back and asked, "Is that an aye, ye'll marry me?"
Blushing, Edith nodded and whispered, "Aye."
"Thank God," Niels growled and finally kissed her.
Much to her amazement all the earlier passion she'd thought sated immediately leapt back to life inside Edith. Moaning, she twined her arms around his neck and pressed against him, her nipples tingling as they brushed across the cloth of his shirt and tartan. Wanting to please him as much as he'd pleased her, Edith didn't simply hold him this time, but allowed her hands to move over his chest, exploring, as she sucked on his tongue and then let hers wrestle with his. But when she found the large pin holding his tartan in place and undid it, Niels stiffened and then caught her by the shoulders and urged her back, ending their kiss.
"Nay, lass, I do no' think--"
"Please," Edith moaned breathlessly, her hand reaching for his shirt-covered chest as the tartan dropped to pool in his lap. "I just want to see."
When Niels hesitated, a battle taking place in his eyes, she reached for his shirt and tugged it up from under the folds of his tartan so she could slide her hands beneath. Edith then let them glide over the hard expanse of his stomach and then his chest as she pushed the cloth upward, revealing inch after inch of his perfect chest. When the cloth rose high enough to expose one of his nipples, she bent and closed her lips over it and Niels's hands tightened on her shoulders in surprise.
"Lass," he growled as she suckled and then flicked at the hardening tip with her tongue, not sure she was doing it right, but trying to emulate what he'd done to her. She thought she might be doing it right when he growled under his breath and let one hand slide into her hair to cup her skull as she worked. Still, he said, "Lass, we should no--"
The words died abruptly when Edith slid one hand down to find the hardness covered by the bunched-up tartan. Unsure what she should do with it now that she'd found it, Edith merely clasped it through the cloth and squeezed lightly. The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the stone and Niels was on top of her, his hips between her legs and pressing into her as he kissed her almost violently.
Groaning into his mouth, Edith spread her legs farther, raised her knees and dug her heels into the stone so that she could press back up into the hardness rubbing against her through the cloth of his tartan. She also slid her hands around his hips and grasped his . . . bare bottom, she realized with surprise. Eyes blinking open, she broke their kiss to glance down and saw that the tartan had slid off him to lie between them. It left her a lovely view of his bottom.
"What's wrong?" Niels growled and lifted himself slightly to peer over his shoulder as if he thought she'd seen someone. He was caught completely off guard when Edith immediately stopped pressing upward, let her hips drop to the stone and reached into the space she'd made between them to wrap her fingers around his hard erection.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Niels turned back to stare at her wide-eyed and Edith used her free hand to try to pull his head down for another kiss, but he resisted. Actually, he seemed kind of frozen, she realized and worried that she'd hurt him. She didn't think she was squeezing too tightly, but didn't know how sensitive he was.
"Am I doing it wrong?" she asked uncertainly.
"That depends what ye're trying to do," he said between clenched teeth.
Edith bit her lip, and then admitted, "I want to pleasure ye like ye did me."
Niels swallowed and closed his eyes. "Lass," he said finally. "Ye're playing with fire. Jest leave off and let me catch me breath and we'll return to the keep and--" His words died abruptly again when she moved her hand. Edith's eyes widened as he jerked in response.
"Tell me what to do," she begged, moving her hand again.
It was apparently too much for Niels. Cursing under his breath, he caught her wrist and squeezed until she released him, and then was immediately off her, taking his tartan with him.
Biting her lip, Edith sat up and watched as he laid his tartan out on the path and began to fold pleats into it in the narrow space.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked uncertainly, easing to the edge of the rock and standing up.
"Nay, I just think we should--" Niels paused as he glanced her way and saw that while her skirt had dropped back into place, the top of her gown still lay around her waist leaving her breasts bare. Glancing down, she saw that her nipples were puckered as if cold, and blushed. She also immediately started to grab the material, intending to cover herself, but he caught her arm to stop her and then drew her closer.
"God, I want ye," he whispered, his breath a warm rush across her sensitive nipple. "I've no' stopped aching since the day at the loch," he admitted.
"Then why were ye avoiding me?" Edith asked, and flushed as she heard the hurt in her own voice. She hadn't meant to let him hear it, but she had been hurt by how distant and cold he'd been toward her after kissing her. She was also starting to worry he might act like that again now despite asking her to marry him.
Niels studied her expression with a frown and then said, "I'm sorry, lass. I did no' mean to hurt ye."
"Ye're no' going to act like that again once we're back at the keep, are ye?" she asked.
"I probably will," he said apologetically. "But only til we're married. 'Tis only because when I'm near ye, I want ye so bad I . . ." He shook his head.
"I want ye too," she confessed. "So bad 'tis an ache."
"Aye." Niels smiled wryly. "I ken the feeling well."
"Mayhap if ye bed me, it would no' be so bad and we could--" Her voice died on a gasp as his mouth suddenly closed over her nipple.
"Niels," she said uncertainly, staggering against him and grabbing for his shoulder as he suddenly slid a hand under her skirt to run up her leg.
"I'll no' bed ye til we're wed, lass," he muttered, releasing her breast and lifting his face to watch her expression as his fingers found her center again. "But I'll take away yer ache, fer now."
"What about you?" Edith groaned.
