She felt him then, unmistakably male, and her breath caught. Though she trembled at the proof of his desire, she exulted in it as well. For no matter what else he might feel for her, this, Page knew, could scarce be denied.
He did want her.
As a man wanted a woman.
The knowledge thrilled her.
Once again his mouth covered hers, achingly tender, tasting, caressing, suckling, coaxing, and it was all Page could do to cling to him while he savored her lips in that slow, erotic way that snatched her breath and whetted her senses. She felt the passion he held in restraint in the shuddering of his body, in the way that he gripped her arm and urged her backward into the room while he kissed her, and was wholly undone by it.
“I need you,” he whispered, removing his breacan and jerking it free, casting it to the floor. “So much...”
Page couldn’t reply, too overcome was she by the power of his words.
His hand splayed across her back, lowered to her bottom, pressing her more solidly against his arousal. He held her there, and his lips slid to her cheek, to her temple. “D’ ye feel how much?” he whispered at her ear.
“Aye,” Page answered, swallowing.
“Och, lass...” She felt his jaw tauten against her face, heard him swallow, and felt her throat convulse with overwhelming emotion.
“Jesu,” Page croaked, her eyes closing, her heart pounding madly. She wanted him to want her.
Wanted him to make love to her. So very much.
“I need you to tell me what it is you wish me to do...”
Page shook her head, unable to voice her single coherent thought.
“D’ ye wish me to stop?” he asked her.
“Nay,” she answered at once.
Never did she wish him to.
He growled, a sound of immense satisfaction, and bent to sweep her up into his arms suddenly. Page gasped, clinging to him. Her heart hammered fiercely as he bore her to the fur-strewn bed and laid her down upon it.
Standing before her, he drew his tunic up and over his head, and the sight of him, magnificent in his nakedness, filled her with awe. She swallowed.
“Now, lass... I’m gain’ to show you how ‘tis really done,” he promised, straddling her and trapping her beneath him. His smile was utterly wicked.
Without another word, he bent to kiss her, and Page thought she would draw her final breath, so profoundly did the touch of his lips affect her.
For the briefest instant, she forgot even how to respond.
“Open for me,” he demanded. “I want to taste you,” he whispered seductively against her lips. Page obeyed, shivering at his whispered words. “That’s it,” he murmured, coaxing her lips and her heart. He dipped his tongue gently within her mouth. “Mmmnnnnnn,” he whispered.
Page’s heart jolted. Tentatively, her heart hammering fiercely, she gave him her own tongue to spar with, taking his example, wanting to give back equal measure. She wanted to please him. Dear God, she wanted to please him. Lifting her hands to his chest, she allowed her fingers to roam his shoulders and tangle within his hair.
“Ah, Christ,” he hissed, and groaned, wrapping his arms about her and rolling with her unexpectedly. “I believe I’ve changed my mind,” he revealed. He grinned engagingly as he settled her atop him. “Make love to me,” he urged her. She froze, as though unsure she’d heard correctly, and he tossed his hands playfully. “I’m yours,” he declared with a wink. “Do wi’ me what you will.”
Iain thought she looked terrified, and he suppressed a chuckle. His grin widened, and he lifted a brow in challenge. “You might even torture me if it please you.”
At once her beautiful lips broke into an impish smile, and she asked, “I can do anything?”
“Anything’ at all,” he assured. What better way to be certain she dictated their lovemaking?
Her brown eyes flickered with mischief. “And what if I should, indeed, decide to torture you?”
Iain’s heart lurched. His eyes narrowed with infinite pleasure over the wicked possibilities that flashed through his thoughts. “Then I should die a contented man,” he disclosed. And God help him, he thought he just might.
His hands slid beneath the hem of her gown, guiding it up her bare calves. His body quickened painfully at the delicious feel of the warm, soft flesh beneath his fingertips.
Still, she hadn’t moved, merely watched him, her breasts rising and falling with her every breath, her expressive eyes wide and anticipating. When he reached her thigh, she suddenly reached out, stilling his hand.
For the space of a heartbeat, Iain thought she meant to refuse him, and then she slid his hand away, smiling softly as she did.