"I was trying to keep myself under control, and you ken I'll not want to stop with a kiss," he confessed.
"Nor will I."
He frowned, looking even more aroused and frustrated. "We must. There's a hall full of guests out there, part of them your family and clan."
She shrugged. "Cyrus approved our betrothal. What can he say? If he finds out we've shared a bed, he'll merely demand that we marry quicker. Besides, we can bar the door and no one will walk in."
Dirk stepped forward, leaned in and brushed his mouth across hers, sending delicious sensual shivers over her whole body. "Damnation. You crush my willpower," he whispered, then captured her lips in one of those devastating kisses he was so skilled with. His hands encircled her waist, drawing her closer. She slid her arms around his neck and held on. He kissed her thoroughly and deep, his mouth as intoxicating as the spiced, sweet wine he tasted of. After a moment of the carnal indulgence, he pulled back and released her as if trying to rein himself under control.
Finding the bar standing against the doorframe, she lifted it and slid it down into the brackets. No one could enter now.
"What are you doing?" Dirk asked.
"I think you ken." She sent him a mischievous smile. "Ravishing you."
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Ravishing me?" One side of Dirk's lips quirked up. "In the library? You are mad."
"Indeed." Isobel crept forward, enjoying the surprised and amused expression on Dirk's handsome face.
"We cannot," he protested, his eyes still dark blue and heavy-lidded from that scorching kiss.
"I think we can. No one is stopping us, and no one will know of it."
"Listen." He turned his head to stare at the door.
The loud music of the céilidh had started in the great hall and someone was singing a lively tune. Feet were stomping and hands were clapping.
She grinned. "'Twill cover any noise we make."
He blew out a harsh breath and sent her an accusatory look. "I thought I was strong, but I cannot resist you."
"There is no need to now that we are betrothed."
She unclasped the brooch at his shoulder that had been holding his plaid sash in place, then unfastened his doublet. After she deposited them on the table, he yanked the shirt over his head and flung it toward the heap of clothing. She feasted her eyes on the luscious bulging muscles of his torso and his rippled abdomen all the way down to his soft doeskin trews that left little to the imagination. His erection was clearly outlined beneath.
How delectable he looked.
Moving forward, she boldly took hold of the leather string and tugged, untying, then unlacing his trews to reveal the narrow line of hair on his lower abdomen that led downward to fascinating male parts.
"Isobel," he said in a warning tone.
"Aye?" Giving him a playful little grin, she trailed her fingers inside and along his hot, hard shaft.
He groaned and grasped her wrist to draw her hand away. "Wicked lass," he said in a teasing hiss and dragged her to him for a kiss. In one hand, he secured both her wrists behind her back.
"Mmm." Heavens! What was he doing? He had never restrained her like this before, but somehow she found it excited her more. As if he was taking control of her, possessing her.
Keeping her mouth occupied with a scrumptious, erotic kiss, he unclasped the brooch at her chest and then her belt, allowing her arisaid to drop at her feet. After moving aside her other clothing, he untied the string holding her smock in place and dragged it down to expose her breasts.
She gasped at the excitement that raced through her. The cool air in the room teased her skin. Bending her backwards he drew her peaked nipple into his hot mouth. The tonguing and sucking he unleashed on her was so arousing, she couldn't think.
"Oh, Dirk. Aye."
After he'd suckled her other breast and teased it for a few moments, he released her, moved to a chair by the hearth and dropped into it. "Come now, lass. Don't make me wait."
What game was he playing? Grabbing onto a chair at the table, she could scarce stand or find the words to form a coherent sentence while her mind returned to her.
She eyed him and his playful smirk. "Oh, I see. Now that we are betrothed, you think to order me about, do you?" She sashayed toward him.
"Aye."
She loved his faint playful grin.
"Sit on my lap," he said.
She perched sideways on his rock-hard thighs, leaned in and placed an innocent peck on his lips. Threading his fingers into her hair, he drew her closer still and, with his tongue flicking roguishly against hers, turned the kiss into a sinful, steamy delight. She could hardly think after a few seconds. She simply wanted to eat him up.