Beyond the Highland Myst(107)

She traced her fingers lightly and lovingly over an exquisitely carved doll and paused.

He was kneeling beside a cradle, rubbing oil into the wood with a soft cloth. Clad only in the blues and silvers of his kilt, his dark hair fell forward in a silky wave. The nursery was aglow with dozens of oil globes, casting his powerful torso a gleaming bronze. His eyes were narrowed in concentration and the muscles in his arms flexed and bunched as he rubbed.

Adrienne leaned against the jamb and watched him in silence, tallying the room's meager furnishings. Many of the toys were back, but all the cradles and beds were all gone. What phenomenal passion must have raged through him!

"I suppose I should feel flattered," she said softly.

His head jerked up guiltily.

Adrienne stepped into the room, conscious that her breasts, made fuller by pregnancy, swayed beneath her gown, and that the Hawk seemed fascinated by the ripeness of her lusher curves. They'd made love that afternoon, desperately, quickly, and fiercely, scarcely making it from the gardens to the privacy of their bedroom. Lydia had patiently waited all of one hour before she'd knocked on the door and demanded to see her daughter-in-law.

When Adrienne had been trapped back in the twentieth century, fearing she would never be intimate with her husband again, memories of their incredible passion had cascaded through her mind with bittersweet fury, heightening her awareness of all the sensual things she'd longed to do with the Hawk, but had been denied. Those long, torturous months of desire, coupled with the demanding hormones of pregnancy, enhanced her daring now. She hungered for the slow, delicious loving she'd been afraid she might never experience again. "Hawk?"

He gazed up at her, still crouched on the floor, ready to pounce if she so much as moved an inch.

Adrienne moved—deliberately and erotically. She stooped to pick up a toy soldier, bending so that her breasts threatened to spill from her bodice. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and sent the Hawk a smoldering look from beneath lowered lashes. He was on his feet in an instant.

"Stop!" Adrienne raised a hand to hold him back.

Hawk froze mid-stride.

"What do you wish of me, Adrienne?" he whispered huskily.

"I need you," she said breathlessly. He lunged forward and she raised her hand again. "No, let me look at you," she said as she circled slowly around him. She smiled when his eyes widened. "When I was back in my time, one of the things that I really wanted to clear up was a question about Scotsmen and their kilts___"

"And that question was?"

"I saw you mounting your horse one day—"

"I know you did," he said smugly. "You were in the window by the nursery."

"Oh! You did do it on purpose!"

Hawk laughed, mischief crinkling his eyes, and it fueled her bold resolve. If he could tease her—well, two could play that game. She'd see how well he handled such toying with his desires.

Stepping closer, Adrienne placed her hand on his muscled thigh and stared into his eyes provocatively. His nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened beneath hooded lids. With her other hand she tugged the bodice of her gown, freeing her breasts to spill over the top. She felt deliciously wicked, knowing her nipples were rosy, puckered, and begging to be kissed. When he leaned forward to do just that, she pushed him back playfully, slid her hand up his thigh, and wrapped it around his shaft, delighted by his husky groan. "Nothing beneath this plaid, just as I suspected," she observed pertly.

"Adrienne. You're killing me."

"I've only just begun, my love." She wrapped her fingers around his magnificent arousal and slipped her hand up and down his shaft with a velvety friction.

Hawk grabbed her hips and lowered his head to kiss her; but she moved her head and laughed when he buried his face in her breasts instead.

"Stop," she commanded.

"What?" he asked disbelieving.

"Step back," she encouraged. "Don't touch me until I ask you to. Let me touch you."

Hawk groaned loudly, but let his hands fall from her body. His eyes were fierce and wild, and Adrienne suspected he wouldn't permit her subtle torture much longer.

She leisurely unfastened his kilt and dropped it to the floor. Her husband stood nude before her, his bronze body glistening in the candlelight, his hard shaft bucking insistently. Adrienne traced a fascinated and admiring path over his shoulders and across his broad, muscled chest. She lightly brushed his lips with hers, kissed his jaw, his nipples, teased his rippled abdomen with her tongue, then sank to her knees, her mouth inches from his shaft, her hands splayed on his thighs. "Adrienne!"

She kissed the sweetness of him, stroking her tongue up and down his hard length. Hawk buried his hands in her hair and made a raw sound deep in his throat. "Enough!" he pulled her to her feet and backed her against the ledge beneath the windows. He swept her off her feet, deposited her upon the ledge, and tossed her gown up, spreading her legs to accommodate him. "Now, Adrienne. I want you now" He kissed her deeply as he gently but insistently thrust into her beckoning wetness. Adrienne gasped with pleasure as he filled her completely. Hawk stared into her face, taking careful note of each shudder, each moan that escaped her lips, and just when she reached convulsively for the exquisite apex, just when she felt the sweet tremor begin—he stopped moving completely.