She turned, took a few paces away from him, and then turned back. “I’m so pleased you think that.” Her delicate fingers traced the length of her body from navel to throat.
His mouth gaped slightly when she started pulling on the strings of her dressing gown.
He sipped his wine and sat back, enjoying her show. Never had a woman stripped for him in such a fashion. Confident in her seduction, she gently tugged at her sleeves letting a glimpse of her shoulder come through. She turned away where he could only see her backside. Her gown slipped to her waist. Underneath, she wore something else but from where he sat, he couldn’t tell what.
Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips when she caught his eye. In silent warning, he set his goblet down and leaned forward to see what she wore. He saw more flesh than dress. He could see her holding her breath, her breasts pushed forward and scraping against only a scrap of material.
Her gown hit the floor with a silent whoosh.
Shock, passion and outright lust hit him hard. If he hadn’t put his goblet down it would have hit the floor, much like his chin.
The silk material she wore was unlike anything he had seen in the past. Small straps held it up where the material hugged her curves like a glove to a hand. Small bits of lace trimmed the edges and plunged low. But the center, Dear God, the center was nothing more than a V of material gathered at 214
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the apex of her thighs, her sex hardly concealed.
His smoldering eyes took her in and followed her hands as they traced her own form. Tara turned giving him another glimpse of her back end. His breath drew in when her hands molded to her buttocks.
“Do you like it?” she purred.
“Aye,” he choked out.
She came to him, stretched out one very long leg and slid her hand up its length, then placed her foot between his thighs. She bent forward to give him the full view of his present.
“I like it too,” she confided.
His hand stroked her thigh. Slowly he let his fingers journey to where the scrap of fabric met between her legs. He slipped a finger under the silk.
A sound of pleasure escaped from Tara. She trembled when he found the moisture already pooling, her desire evident on the tips of his fingers.
“I think ’tis time I repay you for all your teasing.”
Her fingers clenched. Promise?
Aye! In a single fluid motion he lifted her up, carried her to their waiting bed. There, she stretched out in a shameless display of legs and arms.
“What’s under that kilt?”
His smile teased. “Need.”
Only a clasp held his plaid in place. One quick tug and he showed her. He wore only the kilt and nothing else.
His need looked ready and wanting.
“Now, dear wife, how will I unwrap this present of mine?” he asked as he stretched out beside her.
His lips caught her throat. “Slowly, I think.”
His hands traveled the path hers had. The silk was cool in his hands. Under it, her nipples displayed her passion, pushing against the cloth.
He spread his fingers along her stomach, letting 215
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them dip lower.
She arched up, aching for more contact.
He stopped short of where she wanted his hand to go, and traveled back up to cup the fullness of her breast. He would tease her, and make her want before he possessed.
Her hands made their own journey across his naked back, detouring to make bold strokes over his hips and thighs.
Five long days, Duncan. I thought I would die.
Death could never be so sweet.
He peeled the silk from her shoulders. With her arms freed, he lowered it inch by painful inch, murmuring how much he loved his gift and how he would savor each layer . Ah now, look at this. Such a lovely navel.
His lips explored her abdomen, his beard scraped her skin. She bucked beneath his touch. The silk dipped lower, exposing the swatch of hair covering her sex.
“And this,” his accent thickened, “this I need to explore more thoroughly.”
Please. He lowered the silk to her ankles. With a slight kick of her legs, the small piece of cloth sailed to the side of the bed.
His lips traced her hips, her thighs. An ocean of desire threatened to flood her before he finally found her center.
Tara wanted to tease him. Had done so shamelessly, but now he was the one in control, and his slow pace maddened her. He devoured her, lick by lick. He flooded her thoughts with images of his mouth covering her core, a pleasure she had yet to experience. “You’re driving me mad,” she told him.
“The longer I take, the more pleasure I will bring.”
Tantalizing kisses explored her thighs. Heart racing, she pleaded with him to find her. His mouth 216
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moved over her sex, breathing puffs of hot air onto her sensitive skin.