Hah! What the devil was he thinking? Once would never be enough. He was deluding himself.
“Logan?” She moved closer and reached out to the pile of bedclothes in the shadows.
“I’m here,” he said at last in a low, husky voice.
Mairi whirled around and laid a hand over her heart. “You frightened me. I didn’t see you there.”
“I know,” he casually replied, moving out of the stall and closing the gate behind him. “I couldn’t sleep. But what are you doing here, Mairi?”
They met face to face in the center of the stable, beneath the glow of the hanging lantern.
“I couldn’t sleep either,” she replied. “Not after you said you were leaving. I thought you might stay a little longer.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. And you know why.”
But did she? Did she know the real reason why it was best that he leave here as soon as possible?
“Because you want to find your brother,” she answered for him, “and have your revenge.”
Logan was very used to lying. It would have been so easy to say yes, that was why he needed to go, but instead, the truth came spilling out faster than he could stop it.
“It’s not just that. You remember what happened by the creek this morning. I took liberties that made you uncomfortable. If I stay, it will only happen again.”
“Maybe I want it to happen,” she said.
His head drew back in surprise. “I don’t think you know what you’re saying, Mairi.”
She scoffed at that and spoke in a frantic flood of words. “I know exactly what I’m saying, and I came here because I couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight… How it felt when you kissed me. I experienced feelings I didn’t think I could ever feel again, and it made me believe I could be a normal woman. A woman who enjoys being with a man.” She paused and looked down at the hay-strewn floor. “Sometimes I think about Hamish never having any brothers or sisters, and I wish that he could have a normal life, too—”
Alarm bells began to chime inside Logan’s head, and he frowned. “Is that what you want from me, Mairi? A brother for Hamish? Is that why you came out here?”
Her eyes lifted and she blinked a few times. “Good heavens, no. That’s not what I was trying to say at all. This is coming out all wrong. I just want to believe that it’s possible…that there is hope for me—that someday I might be able to give myself to a man. Without reservation.”
He shook his head. “It shouldn’t be me, Mairi.”
She did not back down. She took a step forward and laid her hand on his chest. “Why not?”
He felt a sizzle of energy run through him as he beheld her dazzling beauty in the lamplight—the striking contrast of her dark, midnight hair, to her rosy cheeks, and clear ivory complexion. The attractive curve of her hips beneath the loose, fluttering shift. The scent of roses that inundated his senses and filled him with physical need.
Most of all, the luxuriant, sumptuous breasts—one of which he’d cupped in his hand that very morning.
The memory of it set his impulses on fire and he began to wonder, selfishly, how far she would let him go before she changed her mind.
Would he be able to stop if she asked him to?
“I want to be alone with you tonight,” she said in a quiet, seductive voice. “I want you to touch me.”
Logan imagined at once all the decadent, licentious ways he could do exactly that. Ways he could help her learn to enjoy a man’s touch.
His touch.
An intense surge of desire swelled beneath his kilt.
This was dangerous.
“You shouldn’t be here, Mairi,” Logan forced himself to say. “You should go back to the house.”
“I don’t want to. I’m not afraid of what you’re thinking about.”
“You should be,” he replied. “And how do you know what I’m thinking about?”
“Because it’s the same thing I’m thinking about.” She drew a line with her finger…down the center of his chest to his stomach, and paused at the top of his kilt.
Logan’s body exploded into a flood of painful carnal lust. Lord help him, if Mairi didn’t leave now, she was going to find herself on her back in the next few seconds.
“I’m leaving in the morning,” he reminded her. “Nothing’s going to change that.”
“I don’t care. All I want is tonight.”
“You’ll regret it. And you’ll hate me in the morning.”
Her expression darkened. “No, I won’t.”
She was far too tenacious. She wasn’t heeding his words at all.
“I won’t hate you,” she said, “because I trust you to be gentle with me. To go slow. That’s all I ask. Can you do that? We could start on top of my shift, and wait until I’m ready before you put your hands under it.”
He was finding it harder and harder to resist the provocative images she was describing.
“You shouldn’t trust a man you know nothing about,” he tried to argue.
“But I do know you.”
“No, you do not, lass,” he replied tersely. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
She inclined her head at him and narrowed her gaze. “I know enough. I know that you won’t hurt me, and that if I change my mind and ask you to stop, you will.”
He scoffed. “You have more confidence in me than I do, because I’m burning for you, Mairi. All I want to do right now is drag you to that bed, push you onto it, and take my pleasure inside of you. Thrust into you, deep and hard, over and over, faster and faster. There, now. Is that what you want? To be overpowered? I didn’t think so.” He pointed at the door. “Leave now while you still can.”
She laid her hand on his cheek and gazed up at him imploringly. “You won’t hurt me.”
Unable to resist another second of this agonizing temptation, he grabbed her by the hand and led her to the bed. “You’re wrong about that, lass. Let’s go and see.”
Chapter Eight
Mairi nearly stumbled over her feet as she followed Logan into the shadows. Heart racing with a mixture of excitement and panic—was she mad to be doing this?—she felt her eyes grow wide as he whirled her around next to his bed, pulled her up against the rock-hard wall of his body, crushed her mouth with his, and thrust his tongue inside.
She pressed her open palms against his chest and pushed him away. “Stop. You’re just trying to scare me, prove yourself right.”
“Aye, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll run out of here.” He stepped forward again, pulled her tight up against him, and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of her neck.
To her complete and utter surprise, Mairi felt no further inclination to discourage him—she wanted him desperately—even though he appeared dangerously out-of-control with desire for her. His lips and tongue ate hungrily at her neck, suckling and kissing as he groaned with need, while she groped at his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth in return.
The sensations sent a flood of tingling gooseflesh down to her toes. She tilted her head back and sighed with pleasure, marveling at her unexpected willingness to give him free rein.
His good hand stroked upwards from the small of her back to her nape, where he massaged the sensitive flesh with the pad of his thumb. This relaxed her into a state of blissful enchantment. Then he withdrew his tongue and thrust inside again.
A pleasurable tension erupted in every corner of her being, in places she’d believed were lost forever. She cupped his face in her hands and felt a tear spill across her cheek.
Gradually, Logan eased off the violence of the kiss, and his mouth gentled. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers and inhaled deeply.
“I cannot resist you, lass.”
“You don’t have to.”
He swallowed hard and paused a moment while her heart raced with anticipation.
“I’ll do my best not to hurt you,” he whispered, surrendering at last to what she wanted. Her bod
y warmed with gratification.
She responded by climbing onto the bed, lying on her side, and beckoning for him to join her.
For a long while, he stood over her—tall, muscular, and devastatingly handsome in the golden lamplight. She didn’t know what was about to occur and what he would do next, but so far, she had no regrets.
Logan reached behind his head, removed the sling that bound his arm to his ribs, and lay down on his good side, facing her. “I wish I had two good hands to hold you with, lass, not just one.”
“One will do fine,” she replied, feeling arousal grow in her body.
Leaning closer, he kissed her again, then rolled smoothly on top of her, pinning her to the bed beneath his large, heavy body. An unexpected surge of panic swept through her at the sense of being trapped, but it subsided easily as she became lost in the pleasure of his slow, intoxicating kiss.
He leaned on his good arm and rested his other on her hip where he stroked her with the backs of his fingers. He used his mouth masterfully, kissing her cheeks, her chin, neck, and across her bare collarbone. The pleasurable, pulsing heat between her legs intensified, which affected her breathing.
At long last, his open hand slid up her quivering belly—on top of the fabric of her shift—where he paused briefly just below the rise of her breast. Then he drew back and met her gaze.
His eyes locked on hers as the fingers of his broken arm glided upward over her nipple. He stroked the firm peak with the pad of his thumb, which caused her to suck in a breath of shock and delight.
“It feels good,” she whispered, trying not to compare this to her last experience five years ago. She mustn’t think of that. She must purge it from her mind.
Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths, not realizing that her fists had clenched.
Logan’s hand slid downward again and he rested his splinted arm on her belly, laid his head on the pillow.
Feeling as if she were being studied, she opened her eyes to look at him. “Why are you stopping?”
“Because you’re anxious.”
“I’m fine.”
“Nay, you’re not.” He made no move to continue. “Let’s just lie here together,” he suggested, rolling onto his back and holding out his arm to invite her closer.
Mairi snuggled into him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I did like it. I didn’t want you to stop.”
“Just rest for a while,” he said.
It wasn’t long before Mairi’s body relaxed into his, and she draped her leg over his thick, muscular thigh. Her hand wandered curiously over the muscles of his chest, where she explored the firm flesh and the pebbled peaks of his nipples beneath his shirt. Her breathing grew slow and heavy. Logan’s did the same.
His eyes were closed, but she knew he was awake, for he was stroking her shoulder with the back of his thumb.
Feeling wonderfully aroused, Mairi leaned up on an elbow. Slowly…leisurely…she glided her hand all over his upper body—from his broad chest to his shoulder, down the length of his arm, and across to his flat stomach, where his shirt was tucked into his kilt.
Seeing the outline of his erection beneath the woolen folds, she carefully slid her hand downward to touch him there, on top of the fabric. He was shockingly large.
A breath hitched in his throat as she stroked him, then ventured beneath it to touch his hot, rigid flesh.
“Mairi,” he softly groaned.
“Show me how to please you,” she whispered. “I need you to tell me because I don’t know anything.”
“Like this.” He wrapped his hand around hers and directed her movements. “That’s right, lass…”
A muscle flicked at his jaw and his eyes fell closed. She gloried in the power she had over him, sending him into a trancelike state. Perhaps this was what she needed—to seek pleasure by touching him.
Leaning over him, she pressed her mouth to his and thrust her tongue inside.
Logan tried to sit up and roll onto her again, but she pushed him back down on the bed and straddled him. “Don’t move.” She tugged the bottom of her shift and moved his kilt out of the way until their genitals touched. Then she rubbed herself along the length of his erection, stroking him up and down, just like he showed her how to do with her hand.
“You’re slick and ready for me, lass,” he whispered, sliding his hand between her legs. She rose up higher on her knees, resting above him on all fours. “I want to be inside you, but I cannot give you a child.”
“That’s not what I want,” she assured him breathlessly, but her words turned to a whisper at the unexpected stroke of his finger along her damp center. Almost instantly, a remarkable, bewitching fever settled into her mind and she closed her eyes to revel in the decadence of erotic sensation.
His hand was like some sort of magic potion, filling her with need. Then his finger slid inside her…in and out. Soon, she was thrusting her hips to intensify the pleasure and sighing with ravenous delight. A shiver moved through her, building like a frothy wave on the ocean, gaining speed and strength as it moved toward the shoreline. It reached a crashing peak and sensation exploded within her. She quivered and cried out, collapsing on top of Logan and clinging to him with a great rush of release.
For a long time she lay there, waiting for her heartbeat to slow down while he ran his hand up and down her back, almost lulling her to sleep. She must have dozed off, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps an hour had gone by. When her eyes fluttered open, Logan was sound asleep.
Feeling weary but sated—and immensely satisfied to have reached such a state of sexual gratification—she carefully rolled off him, slid off the bed, and picked up her shawl.
“Good-night, lass,” Logan said in a quiet voice.
She jumped with surprise and looked down at him. “I’m sorry, Logan. I thought you were asleep.”
“I was, but I’m a light sleeper.” He watched her intensely in the dim lantern light. “So is that it, then?” he asked. “You come in here, have your wicked way with me, then sneak out without so much as a thank you or goodnight?”
Mairi stammered. “I’m sorry… I didn’t…”
Logan chuckled softly. “I’m teasing you, lass. You can go if you like. It’s probably best. But I’ll expect flowers in the morning.”
Mairi grinned and shyly glanced down at her feet. “Forgive me. I don’t know how to do any of this.”
“Nor do I,” he replied, leaning up on his good arm.
She gathered her shawl more snugly about her shoulders. “I hope I’m not leaving you…unsatisfied.”
He shrugged. “I’m all right.”
An awkward silence ensued. Mairi cleared her throat.
“Well then…” She pointed a thumb toward the house. “I should go now and leave you to get some sleep.” She tiptoed toward the door, but he called out to her.
“Mairi?”
The sound of her name upon his lips filled her with a strange mixture of ecstasy and sorrow, for she knew this was the end. It had been astonishingly wonderful, but he would be gone in the morning.
She stopped and turned.
“Did you enjoy what we did?” he asked.
Her belly fluttered with excitement at the mere mention of it. “Aye, I enjoyed it very much. Did you?”
“Aye. But I won’t lie. You have left me wanting more.”
She was quick to reply. “You could always stay another day.”
He tilted his head at her and grinned. “You’re a very bad influence, Mairi.”
She regarded him carefully and felt a true and honest concern for the welfare of his soul. “To the contrary, I believe I could be a very good influence on you, Logan—if I could convince you to live for the future, not the past.”
He offered no reply. He simply watched her in the open doorway until she backed out and left him alone, praying that she had not overstepped herself, and that he would still be there in the morning when she woke.
Chapter Nine
Logan was indeed the
re in the morning, knocking on the front door of the cottage and offering to take Hamish hunting for rabbits if they would be kind enough to allow him to stay another night.
Naturally, they agreed, and Mairi spent the day cleaning the cottage from top to bottom with a vitality that left Isla speechless.
The hunting expedition was a resounding success. Logan and Hamish returned late in the afternoon with two fat rabbits and plenty of stories to tell, as Hamish had done much of the work on account of Logan’s broken arm.
Mairi insisted that Logan rest his arm. She skinned the rabbits herself for supper, which turned out to be the most delicious meal she’d had in ages.
* * *
Three days passed, and each morning when he woke, Logan couldn’t bring himself to leave the pleasures of the cozy cottage in the glen—which included the company and conversation of two good women, a keen young lad who looked up to him and was eager to learn about all the things Logan was best at, and hot meals each night.
Most importantly, he couldn’t possibly quit the warm bed in Mairi’s stable, where she came to him each night after the others were asleep.
Those hours that he spent with her felt like something out of a dream. They were pure bliss, and he woke each morning wondering if it had been real, for she appeared each night like an angel over his bed. Slowly, without a word, she undressed him, then she removed her shift and lay down naked beside him in the dim glow of the lamplight, where she spent the next hour exploring his body with her soft hands and warm mouth. They clung together in the darkness—touching, fondling, kissing, and sometimes talking. Her skin was always scorching hot next to his, yet he relaxed into it, and relished the firm rubdowns she gave when she turned him over onto his stomach.
She asked him what he liked sexually, and she did everything he described. She used her mouth and hands and brought him to orgasm multiple times each night.
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