“Yes, lass. Yes, ye can. Let me in. Let me show ye. Please,” Donnan said, aware that his voice was breaking with emotion.
Donnan watched Bernadine closely as she stood still, her mind clearly lost in thought. He saw her lips move, as though she were muttering to herself, and oh, how he longed to know those words, their meaning, what they meant for him and his heart.
And then her head rose, her eyes opening and fixing on him. “I’m scared,” she whispered, a nervous laugh punctuating her sentence. “I am scared, and I do not understand this, any of this. How I can be drawn to you and despise you, how you can excite me and anger me, how you can make me feel loved when you barely know me? I am scared and I do not know what to do. But I know what I want to do,” she said, reaching up the hand that Donnan still held in his.
She brushed her lips against his knuckles, and Donnan closed his eyes, lost in the bliss of her touch, the gentle caress of her soft lips against his skin.
With her other hand, she reached for him, touching the rough beard on his cheek, rubbing the whiskers with the pads of her fingers. She took another step closer, bringing him eye level with her chest, which he could see was heaving with nervous breath.
“Please,” she whispered, looking at him, begging him to help her, to teach her, to guide her. Donnan was more than happy to accept, eager to show the lass his love and affection. He could not do it with words alone. They had done their talking, and besides, he had always been far better with his hands, anyway.
Bernadine squealed as Donnan’s arms curled around her waist, his hands resting on her pert, round bottom. He ran his hands up and down the half-moon shape, lightly patting it. Bernadine made a surprised noise when he did so, but it was quickly muted when he bent his face down, planting his mouth on her neck. Her scent was stronger there, combining with the musk of her hair to create an intoxicating aroma that did more to arouse him than anything else she had said, done, or even worn thus far.
Donnan ran his nose down the side of her neck, feeling the hard sinew at her jugular thinly veiled by sweet, supple skin. He flicked his tongue at the point where her neck met her jaw, gratified when she gave a small gasp. He continued his explorations, nosing down toward her collarbone, noticing the blue veins visible just under her skin.
She was strong as an ox in her voice, her actions, but her body was surprisingly small and fragile. He would handle her with the utmost care. Donnan’s lips travelled across her collar and down, reaching a hand up to further part the gap in her nightgown, baring one beautiful jewel of a breast to his eyes.
Large and round with nipples that practically begged for attention, they were the most beautiful things Donnan had ever seen. Donnan could not help but reach out to cup them, gratified when they spilled over in his large hands.
He was pleased to see the look of pleasure on Bernadine’s face as he began to rub his thumbs across her nipples, barely covered by the thin silk of her slip. Her pleasure was, after all, the goal of this night, and he could not help but preen slightly that he was already on his way to fulfilling the goal.
Not that he would stop once it was reached. No, he would give her as much pleasure as she could handle, and then still more, until she was whispering his name reverently in his ear, her breaths coming out in great sighs as he brought her body to climax again and again, until she was nothing but a spent heap of delicious warmth in his arms.
Bernadine’s short, quick breaths brought Donnan back to the present, and he ceased his ministrations with his hands, bringing his fingers back to the dip in the slip’s neckline.
“Donnan, what are you –” Bernadine began to ask, but her words stopped in her throat when Donnan ripped her shift straight down the middle, the silk falling off her body until she was completely bare before him.
Her body was a vision, all creamy curves, rounded hips and waist tapering to lean, long legs from so much horseback riding. Her body was soft and strong all at once, much like the woman herself.
Donnan looked up at saw Bernadine staring back at him uncertainly. She looked uncomfortable, and Donnan realized that it was no doubt in part because it was her first time bare before a man, but also because he was still clothed in his smalls.
Therefore, he quickly stripped his clothes off, not caring when he heard the fabric rip with his hastened movements. His member bounced free, standing straight up, engorged and more than ready to be satisfied, but Donnan ignored the thing. It was Bernadine that he needed to focus on.
And focus he did, drawing her warmth back toward him, delighting of the feel of being skin to skin with her. It felt unimaginably good to hold her so close, their body heat mingled together, aided by the warmth of the fire at Bernadine’s back.
Donnan ran his hands down her body, starting at her head. Her hair was soft as down, long enough that, as he had suspected, it fell to her waist, the curls cascading over her breasts. Donnan drew the locks in one fist and moved them over her left shoulder, leaning in and placing kisses on her right one.
Bernadine hummed in response, arching her back as Donnan’s hands skimmed down her back, around her waist and onto her stomach, which curved out ever so slightly.
“Yer beautiful, lass,” he whispered in her ear, unable to keep his thoughts and feelings inside a moment longer. He needed her to know how truly bonny she was, like a siren from one of the Greek myths that his tutor had made him recite as a boy.
Donnan saw Bernadine back away slightly from the compliment, but he dragged her back toward him. “It’s true lass. Yer the bonniest thing I have ever seen. Yer image will be burned in me brain for an eternity, I can assure ye of that,” he rasped in her ear, leaning down to bite softly at her lobe.
He heard her gasp at that, and he did it again, feeling her nipples harden against his chest as he worried his teeth over the sensitive flesh of her lobe.
“Donnan…” she muttered, turning into him. “Touch me,” she pleaded. “More.”
Chapter 15
Bernadine had found herself engrossed by few things in life. There was literature, and horseback riding, and little else. That was, until tonight. Because now, she found herself thoroughly engrossed in Donnan Young, or, more accurately, in the things he was doing to her body.
She knew little of what lovemaking entailed. Guinevere had been far too proper to explain it to her, and of course Bernadine was absent a mother who might have lectured her on the subject. There had been the occasional hurried whisper among her acquaintances at balls, trading secrets about Mrs. Such and Such who had just gotten married and revealed a treasured tidbit or two of what it meant to lay with a man. But of the act itself, Bernadine knew little.
However, what she had imagined in her mind was nothing like what was currently happening. As Donnan suctioned his mouth to her nipple, wetting the nub with his tongue, Bernadine could feel heat making its way through her body, a strange, prickly heat that felt like soft pricks of sensation were sparking all over her.
She was, in short, enjoying their exchange far more than she had expected. She had expected to feel wanted, cherished, but the way Donnan was making her feel was far beyond that. Bernadine felt, in a word, worshipped.
She had never been the sole focus of anyone’s attention before, not like this. She had never been so vulnerable, so exposed, literally and figuratively. She had been nervous minutes before, her body beginning to tense, unable to think just what was going to happen, but now, she felt completely relaxed, happy to give herself to Donnan and his obviously more than capable hands.
Donnan moved his mouth from one breast to the other, and Bernadine found herself smiling as he continued the swirls and flicks of his tongue on the sensitive tip of her breast, arching her back as he sped up his motions.
He held her, one hand on her belly, the other on her back, and Bernadine knew that if she were to fall at that very moment, however unexpectedly, Donnan would be there to catch her.
“Donnan,” she whispered a few minutes later, when her nipple was gr
owing so sensitive she feared she might scream, in both pain and pleasure, if his mouth stayed on it a moment later. “Will you…will you kiss me?”
Bernadine knew it was a strange thing to ask, considering that he had in fact been kissing her, or at least a part of her, for a quarter of the last hour, but she could not help it. In every one of the romantic novels she had read, a kiss between the hero and heroine had been written of in great detail, and these words never failed to stir her desire.
It seemed to her, from her extensive study of the subject through the written word, that a kiss between two lovers was the single most sensual thing they could share. Indeed, her acquaintances had made much of the clandestine kisses they had shared with their suitors, claiming all sorts of strange sensations in them when their lips met another’s.
She wanted to know what it was to have Donnan’s lips on her, that sweet mouth that had brought her such pleasure so far tending to her lips. She was worried he would refuse, for he looked puzzled for a moment, his mouth still poised in front of her breast, his eyes shining up at her with an expression she could not quite read.
“Kiss ye?” he asked, rising up to stand at his full height. Bernadine had to look up at him to continue speaking.
“Yes. I want you to kiss me. Need you to kiss, me, really. Please?” she asked, realizing she had never asked him for anything before. She had never wanted to seem as though she needed anything from him, because that made her weak, and she could not be weak in front of him.
But this was not, she reminded herself, the same Donnan she had hated, the one that had captured her. This was a man who loved her, who wanted her to feel good. Surely, he could not deny her this, then?
“Aye, lass, I’ll kiss ye,” he said, and before Bernadine could express her gratitude, her excitement, he had planted his lips on her and lifted her into his arms. The chair was at his left, and he led them there now, seating himself on the cushion and positioning her so that her legs were splayed on either side of his, her bottom resting in his lap.
It was a deliciously naughty pose, and she was startled to feel his member on her, its slick, silken heat rubbing against her core. As Donnan deepened the kiss, Bernadine experimentally shifted herself backward, delighted to find that the movement brushed the center of her against the center of him, resulting in a tingle that spread from her core out to her legs and stomach, making her gasp into his mouth.
She had touched herself there sometimes, at night, had felt that same tingle, but it had never felt quite like this before. It had never felt this good.
“Och, lass, be careful,” Donnan croaked, breaking the kiss to lean back and stare at her. “Ye ‘ve no idea how close I am.”
“Close?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Aye, lass. When a man or woman experience so much pleasure, they’re liable to…to, well, explode with it.”
“Surely you don’t mean literally?” Bernadine asked, leaning forward to rest her hands on Donnan’s shoulders. The movement caused her heat to mix with his again, and she saw Donnan wince with what looked like pain, the opposite of the pleasure she was feeling.
“I am sorry. Is this exploding…is it painful?” she hedged, her voice tentative.
“Dae ye truly not ken of what I’m speakin’, lass?” Donnan asked, looking shocked.
Bernadine shook her head, now thoroughly confused. “No. I don’t. I’m sure you know that pleasure is not usually discussed in the polite circles in which I socialize. Women, especially, do not speak of such things,” she said, a bit defensively. Her pleasure was beginning to ebb, replaced by embarrassment. She felt stupid, and she truly hated to feel stupid.
Sensing her growing uncertainty, Donnan brought her closer to him, until their chests were touching.
“I’m sorry, lass,” he whispered back. “I dinnae mean to insult ye. OF course ye wouldnae ken about it. The explosion is…well, it is painful, but in the best way. It is greatest thing in the world, lass, the best ye’ll ever feel. But if it happens with you, I willnae be able to bear it.”
“Why not?” Bernadine asked, confused. “Surely you would want to feel that good? If it’s so wonderful, I imagine everyone would want to feel that way,” she said as an aside. “Surely you would want me to make you feel that good?”
Donnan shook his head and sighed, looking regretful.
“Feelin’ that with ye, Bernadine, while I ken that ye’ll be gone tomorrow…it would break me. I’ll already be broken, with ye so far away from me. If I ken what it’s like, to truly fall apart in front of ye, knowin’ I’ll never feel it again…I’d die, Bernadine. I’d perish from it, from the deprivation.”
Bernadine shook her head. “I am sorry, Donnan, but I am not going to deprive either of us of a sensation that exquisite.” And with that, she overpowered him, sliding herself back down until her cleft rested on the length of him.
Donnan bit back a growl, but he did not protest as she began sliding herself back and forth across the length of his shaft where it lay over one of his thighs. Bernadine was chasing the pleasure of earlier, and she found it quickly, the sensitive marble between her legs quickly reacting to the slickness and heat of Donnan’s member.
She did not think beyond the goal of bringing them both to what sounded like the pinnacle of ecstasy. She was so wholly focused on her goal that it took her a moment to notice Donnan, his face tightening, his fingers gripping tight to the arms of the chair he sat in.
“Donnan,” she whispered, about to ask him if he was all right, but then he gave a cry, and his back and bottom arched off the seat, a warm liquid spilling from him as he grabbed her and pulled her tight to his chest.
“Did I…” she started, looking up at Donnan from where her head lay on his chest. He nodded slowly as he sat back, his chest heaving with each rasped breath.
“Aye, lass. Ye did,” he said, placing a soft kiss on her head. Bernadine smiled, pleased with herself, but also saddened, because she had not joined him in the sensational apex of their lovemaking.
“Dinnae worry,” he said, surprising her as he stood from the chair, her in his arms, and switched their positions.
Donnan placed Bernadine on the chair in front of him and, before she could so much as inquire just what he was planning, his mouth was on her breast again. His hands roamed down her center, past her navel and not stopping when he met the soft matting of curls between her thighs. He parted her, spreading her until her thighs hit the arms of the chair, the leather immediately growing slick with the perspiration she now realized was covering her.
Bernadine was shocked when she saw Donnan duck his head, but shock quickly morphed into appreciation when Donnan began loving her with his mouth. It was a sensation unlike anything else in the world, one that made her screech and squirm like an animal.
While one hand stayed on her thigh, the other travelled back up her chest, fingers reaching around her nipple to tweak the bud until Bernadine was practically bowing off the chair. The delicious explosion came swiftly after that, ending on a cry of Donnan’s name that she did not doubt the whole of the castle could hear.
“Och, ye’ve ruined me, lass,” Donnan whispered as he helped her to stand and led her to his bed. Bernadine did not protest when he helped her under the covers, stopping first to clean her with a handkerchief he produced from she knew not where.
And nor did she protest when he climbed into bed, gathering her into his arms, fitting her back to his front as though they were lock and key. She was too tired, too happy, too full of emotion to do anything other than bid him goodnight, before promptly falling into a night full of delicious dreams, free of the nightmares that had so troubled her.
Chapter 16
Donnan woke the next morning expecting to feel his heart breaking apart in his chest. While Bernadine had fallen asleep almost immediately after their lovemaking, he had been unable to rest. He knew that it was his only night with her, that she would no doubt be gone by morning’s first light. He had only one night t
o observe his love while she slept, one night to cherish her enough to last a lifetime.
And so he had lain awake, curled around her, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath, her face soft in sleep, free of every emotion but contentment. He had fallen asleep hours later knowing that from that day forward, he would never be the same. How could he, when he had loved and lost Bernadine Nibley, world’s most infuriating, fascinating, perfect woman?
But when Donnan opened his eyes, already feeling the heartache settling into his bones, he turned and found not an empty bed, as he had expected, but a full one. Bernadine was awake and staring at him, a beatific smile gracing her face. She looked soft in the early morning light, her hair shining buttercup yellow in the sun’s rays sneaking through the small part in the curtains.
“Good morning,” she whispered, the smile still not leaving her face.
Perhaps I am still dreaming, Donnan thought, reaching one arm over and pinching his belly.
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