And then that hand was upon one of her breasts, comforting and teasing at the same time. He cupped her through the linen, rolled her nipple tight. He groaned against the crook of her shoulder and teeth nipped lightly at her skin.
"Ye taste so good," he murmured. "So good."
Alana arched to his touch and angled her hips into him. Hardness greeted her, his plaid gone, as an ache took hold, one that could only be ended by Morgann. The scent of damp skin teased as his wet hair brushed her cheek. He pulled away suddenly, hand still clasped over her breast, fingers remaining under her hair.
"I cannae do it." His eyes were hooded, dark with lust, voice thick and emotion filled.
Alana's heart dropped. She leaned her head back, let the air release from her chest and dropped her hands to her side.
"I cannae do it, Alana. I cannae stay away from ye. I wanted to protect ye, to be strong for ye... I dinnae think I can be strong anymore."
Relief streamed through her. He wasn't turning her down. She placed her palm over his heart, the thud strong, reassuring. "Dinnae be strong, Morgann. Just be ye. And kiss me."
He gave a groan of resignation and the hand on her breast advanced around behind her, bundled her against him. Lips moved roughly over hers, claiming, seeking. He coaxed her mouth apart and the damp heat of his tongue shocked her, forced her to grip his arms tightly. Sinuously twining with her tongue, he explored every recess of her mouth as fire built between them. The throb between her thighs became more acute, almost painful. She rocked her hips into him to get some kind of relief.
Morgann pulled her away from the wall and his hands roamed her body. The linen chemise offered little protection against his probing hands as he grasped her bottom, fingers trailing briefly between her thighs and back up. Alana kept her eyes closed as he manoeuvred her around the room, mouth firmly upon hers, until finally the edge of the table bit into the back of her thighs.
Hands gliding over the planes of his chest, she opened her eyes and reclined. She'd intended to study him, to relish the sight of firm muscles and crisp hair but to see him, so gut-wrenchingly beautiful, a vulnerable glint in his eyes, forced a surge of impatient need through her.
"Kiss me again," she begged, hooking a hand around his neck and tugging him down.
He did as she bid. His mouth moved sensuously over hers yet there was an aggression behind the kiss. A sense of him taking everything from her. But he gave back so much. His fingers pressed into her hip, massaging her flesh. She fidgeted, longing for those fingers to put an end to her agony.
"Morgann..." she keened, unsure of what she begged for now. Only he could know.
He ripped his mouth from hers, pushing both hands across her cheeks and holding her face. Their breaths echoed through the vast room. "I need ye, mo ghràidh. I need ye more than my next breath."
"Aye." She nodded frantically, hooking her legs around his thighs in an attempt to close the distance again. "Aye," was all she could say again.
"I'll no' take ye here."
Firm hands pressed under her bottom and Morgann lifted her easily into his hold. He coaxed her legs around him, his sex pressed firmly against her tender flesh. So much restrained power made her shudder and she hid her face in his neck as he carried her effortlessly into the rear chamber.
Blankets enveloped her as he laid her down with a tenderness that stretched her heart. Candlelight gilded his skin, sharpening the shadows in his features, and highlighting each indent of muscle. She reached out and traced a finger over his stomach, drawing a hiss from him.
“Did ye light the candles?” she whispered, grateful to be able to see him properly but wondering how he had time to light them as he carried her in.
His brow creased. “Nay, I thought ye did.”
“Nay,” she replied softly, her confusion dissipating as he stroked a finger down her cheek, all thoughts forgotten at his tender touch. She continued to explore his body with her hand as he propped himself over her, weight held on one arm.
Morgann snatched her hand and laid it carefully back on the bed. “Dinnae touch me, lass.” He grinned at her disappointed expression. “Just for a little while. I need to see ye, need to touch ye. Slowly, gently. I dinnae think I can if ye touch me. ‘Twill be over too soon.”
She licked her lips, swallowing at the promise in his gaze as his hand reached down to the hem of her chemise, currently tangled around her thighs. He glanced down as he inched the fabric higher. Her breaths grew erratic as anticipation built. Morgann shifted to press it up to her waist, hunger clear in his eyes.
And then he swept the chemise clean over her head and parts of his body moulded to hers. Not enough of him touched her really and she longed to draw him down and feel his full weight but she somehow managed to keep her hands to herself, curling them into the sheets.