Sweet Christ... Page thought she would die from the sensations that swept through her at his plea, at the warmth of his breath against her lobe... the way that he seemed to be savoring her face... like a blind lover seeking knowledge of the one he loved... though Iain’s fingers were his lips... and he was making her insane.
“Are... are you hurt?” she found the wits to ask. Her fingers slid into his hair, searching, secretly reveling in the thick healthy texture of his hair.
“Nay.”
She breathed a sigh of relief at his answer, and then he whispered in her ear. “Why did you come back?”
“I... I don’t know,” she answered, and truly she didn’t.
“I’m verra glad you did, lass.”
“I shouldn’t have,” she acknowledged softly.
“But you did.”
“Aye.” Page swallowed convulsively, for his lips began to move tentatively against her cheek once more. She didn’t stop him. Couldn’t. She closed her eyes to savor the feel of them caressing her face. Sweet Heaven above, she had never known a heart could feel so taxed and still continue to beat.
That her flesh could feel so sensitive to the touch.
That her body could yearn so... desperately.
Her body, not her heart, she reminded herself, for her heart was entombed in stone—stone walls she had erected herself with blood and mortar, and painful precision. Only her father had the power to bring them down, and instead he had helped to build them, handing her the bricks, one by one, that she might lay them firmly upon the foundation that was her life.
Ah, but her soul... her soul had yearned and soared, flying from its confines within the prison of her heart, like a specter walking through solid walls.
Her body yearned now, too, and God help her, she had not the will to deny it.
Her fingers unknowingly tangled within his hair, and she was unaware that he eased his grip.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Forgive me, lass.” He kissed her cheek while his arms urged her down upon him. “I didna mean to hurt you...”
“I know,” Page cried, and somehow knew that it was so. And then she couldn’t think at all, for his hands had somehow found their way to her face. He cupped her cheek as he had that first night... with a tenderness that stole her breath and heart away, and tears sprang to her eyes.
chapter 17
The desire she revealed to him so unabashedly made Iain’s heart trip painfully. It sluiced through his soul like a hallowed stream of light, banishing shadows from the darkest cobwebbed reaches.
“I shouldn’t,” she whispered. “Shouldn’t want...” And the desperation he heard in her voice tore at his soul. He shouldn’t want her either, but he did. God help him, but he did.
He turned her face to meet his .gaze. “But you do?”
She closed her eyes and rested her forehead upon his. “Nay.”
He drew away a fraction, staring into her eyes. Deeper shadows descended upon the forest, bathing them in gloaming light, but still he could see the bewilderment in her eyes.
The truth.
“I spy it in your gaze, lass,” he said.
She denied it once more, a quick jerk of her head that convinced him not at all.
“I shouldn’t,” she persisted.
He cupped her chin, drawing it up so that he might better see her lips when she spoke. “That look tells me otherwise. It speaks to my lips...”
He drew himself up and placed his lips to her beautiful chin. “It begs for this...” Instinctively she tilted her head low, of her own accord, and he covered her mouth with his own, tasting her lips, tentatively at first.
Page felt every sweet caress deep into her soul. Every soft foray across her lips sent her heart into a wild skitter.
Sweet Mary, how she wanted this...
How she wanted him.
Never in her life had she craved anything more...
What could possibly be wrong with taking what little he would give her? What did it matter that she would leave him? It wasn’t... and didn’t, she told herself.
What if this one instant in time were to be her fleeting moment of happiness? Her one chance at this sense... of belonging... of feeling... wanted...
Would she regret never taking it?
She knew he couldn’t possibly love her, nor could she love him, for they were strangers. And yet... he did want her. She knew it by the way he touched her... so gently, and yet with so much ardor that it made her heart cry out with joy.
His tongue swept across her lips with a relish that made her heart squeeze painfully. Page opened her mouth to his gentle prodding, his erotic, demanding caresses, and her body quivered as his tongue swept inside, boldly, plundering her mouth... teasing her tongue, until
she moaned with delight and joined him in the gentle play.