Part 23 (1/2)
His eyes gleamed with a deep green heat. ”Let me pleasure you,” he whispered.
How could she stop him, when she couldn't even stop herself?
”This seems so...naughty.”
His lips quirked. ”That, my love, is why I like it.”
My love. The words were meaningless, but they warmed her nonetheless.
He kissed her ear, making her s.h.i.+ver as he continued to stroke her. At some point, she realized he was no longer using the cloth, but his talented fingers.
He lightly bit her ear, then nuzzled his way down her neck. Each kiss made her explode with pa.s.sion.
His hand never stilled, stroking and teasing. She squirmed, urging him on. It was so decadent, being naked in the tub before a dressed man, her legs splayed shamelessly, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s bouncing in the water, the air filled with the sound of her gasping desire as he brought her to the brink of heaven.
Each touch was driving her mad, and answering her deepest need. She panted, straining against his hand, arching and lifting her b.r.e.a.s.t.s out of the water.
He immediately captured her nipple between his lips, laving the turgid peak until she cried his name and cupped his head firmly to her. The moment seemed to stretch until she could hold back no more. Just as she fell over the edge, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his, as if to swallow her cries of pa.s.sion whole.
Triona fell back, MacLean catching her to him. Her entire body quivered with aftershocks as she slowly regained her senses.
When her thundering heart returned to normal and her mind began to function again, she pushed back from his chest and met his gaze, blus.h.i.+ng. ”I-I-”
He grinned. ”Yes?”
”Your s.h.i.+rt is wet.”
”My breeches, too, for we lost a good deal of water out of the tub.” His eyes twinkled. ”I will have to change before I leave.”
Oh, yes. He was leaving. Her heart sank, but she refused to let him see it. ”Thank you for...”
”You're welcome. The next time I have a bath, you can repay the favor.”
Oh! What a wonderful thought! ”I'd like that!”
He laughed at her obvious enthusiasm. ”Not as much as I will.”
When he stood, she saw that his s.h.i.+rt clung to him like a second skin and his breeches were dark where the water had splashed out. ”You really do need to change.”
”I'm just glad I removed my coat and waistcoat before I a.s.sisted you in the tub.” He pulled a fresh s.h.i.+rt and a pair of black breeches from the wardrobe, tossed them on the settee, and began to undress.
Triona watched as he peeled off his s.h.i.+rt, his rippled stomach and chest gleaming damply in the light, a scattering of black curling hair gathering to form a line down to his breeches.
She loved his chest hair and had trailed her fingers down that line many, many times.
He tossed the wet s.h.i.+rt to the floor and undid his breeches, which soon landed on the s.h.i.+rt.
Triona couldn't help but stare. ”That,” she said, pointing, ”will never fit into your breeches.”
He laughed. ”That came out of my breeches, so it will fit back into them.”
She frowned. ”Won't that hurt?”
”No. Although if you think it might help, you could kiss it.”
Her lips quivered. ”You'll have to bring it over here. It's too cold out there for me.”
”Under normal circ.u.mstances, I would take you up on that lovely offer. But I must go.”
She tried not to look disappointed but must have failed, for he added in a warm tone, ”I will come back as quickly as I can.”
She nodded and watched silently as he finished dressing, forgoing his cravat for a simple neckcloth. He then found a serviceable waistcoat of heavy wool and b.u.t.toned that over his s.h.i.+rt before putting on his coat.
”Will it be cold where you're going?”
”Yes. The horses range up the mountains to a particular valley, and it's much higher than here.”
”Ah.” She leaned on the edge of the tub, watching him take several clean s.h.i.+rts from the wardrobe. He bundled them together and tucked them under his arm.
”Aren't you going to take a portmanteau?”
”Just a saddlebag. It will keep out the weather.” He raked a hand through his hair and turned to face her, his expression suddenly somber. ”Caitriona, I must ask you a favor.”
”You wish me to watch after the girls! Of course I will. In fact, I'll-”
”No. That won't be necessary.”
Triona's smile faded. ”Not necessary? But-”
”The girls are going to Dougal's. I spoke to them about it before I came up here.”
Triona frowned. ”You don't need to ask your brother. I will keep them and-”
”No. And that's that.”
Triona stiffened. ”Why not?”
”I overheard them talking this morning. Something about their pantaloons being sewn shut.”
”Oh. That.” She sighed. ”I should explain-”
”You don't need to. They've already told me everything, which is why they're now packing to go to Dougal's. I don't have time to sort things out right now, but...Caitriona, I owe you an apology. My request that you remain aloof from the girls-I didn't mean for it to cause more problems than it solved. They resent you and think of you as an outsider, and have taken it into their heads to chase you away.”
”I know.”
His frown deepened. ”They've behaved abominably.”
”Hugh, they're spirited girls and they're just being protective. I don't think less of them for that.” She managed a grin. ”Besides, I've been holding my own. Wait until they go to put their hair up tomorrow.”
His lips quirked. ”You took their hairpins?”