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“Then why are you so far away?” she asked, almost on a wail.
Self-deprecation tinged his smile. “Because I want you too much, mo leannan.”
He sounded more Scots than ever. She’d noticed that his brogue thickened when his emotions were engaged. He curled one hand around the bedpost, knuckles turning white as he strove for control. His breath was unsteady, and a muscle jerked in one lean cheek.
“Can…can you want me too much?”
“I want to give you pleasure.”
She swallowed as heat flooded her cheeks. “I’m sure wanting…me is no barrier to that.”
“I fear losing my head.” He paused, then spoke more roughly. “I fear frightening you.”
“I want you so much, it hurts,” she admitted.
“Oh, my love,” he said, stepping forward. “You shouldn’t say such things. They make me forget I’m a gentleman.”
At last she found the confidence to smile. “You’re a man as well as a gentleman, Ewan.” Mustering all her nerve, she raised her hand and extended it toward him.
Desire flared in his eyes. A few deft movements and he stood naked before her. All the moisture dried from Charlotte’s mouth, and she swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. She regarded him with curiosity and awe. And trepidation. How on earth would that fit inside her?
“Oh.” The sound emerged as a squeak. Her muscles tightened, the heat between her legs turned liquid. She squirmed and clenched her hands in the sheets.
For the first time tonight, he laughed. “I’ve never seen you stuck for words befo
re, lassie.”
The gentle teasing shattered her paralysis. She pushed up against the pillows, unable to take her eyes off him. “You steal my breath away. I don’t want to wait any longer.”
His face expressed elation, and excitement. And something that she thought might be love, although he’d never said the words.
A thrill rippled through her, and a deep certainty that they were meant to come together like this. A great wave of love washed away her quibbling.
He leaned one knee on the bed. “I want you so much.”
“I want you, too,” she said in a broken voice.
“Charlotte…” Ewan seized her in his arms, dragging her up for a ferocious, explosive kiss that turned the world to fire.
Chapter Eleven
* * *
Lyle reveled in Charlotte’s eager response. When he first saw her naked body, she’d seemed too perfect to be real. Creamy skin. Tumbling hair. High breasts tipped with rose. A symphony of curves. Hips, waist, tender stomach. Long, graceful legs—he’d always suspected his sweet Cinderella might have lovely legs. But the woman in his arms now was all alluring human warmth.
His hands conducted a feverish exploration, up, down, across, above, below. Loving the catch in her breath at every caress, the broken moan when at last he cupped those magnificent breasts. He took one beaded peak between his lips, feeling her start of surprise.
“Oh, Ewan,” she sighed, when he drew on the sensitive nipple. Her hands tangled in his hair, bringing him closer.
He turned his attention to her other breast. She offered a banquet of endless pleasure. He felt torn between the urge to possess and the urge to cherish. She was a virgin and deserved his care. She stirred his passion as no woman ever had, and her ardent welcome stoked the fire inside him.
When her breath emerged in irregular gasps, he trailed his hand down that soft feminine belly to the dark gold curls between her thighs. He placed his palm over her mound, and she tilted her hips toward him.
He rose over her, resting on one elbow. There would be another more powerful claiming later, but he wanted to give her a taste of pleasure first.
With slow concentration, he stroked that silky hair, glistening with arousal. She made a soft sound of enjoyment deep in her throat, and her thighs relaxed.
He kissed her softly, reverently. His tongue traced the seam of her lips as he discovered her satiny folds. She was hot and wet, and when his thumb brushed her center, she gave another of those delicious murmurs. He began to build her response, and was gratified when her shining amber eyes turned startled, then cloudy.
