Page 71
The coolness of his body was a nice contrast to how warm and overheated she felt. She nuzzled his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to savor this moment with him.
“I hope I am nae crushing ye,” he murmured, rolling off her and to the side of the bed.
She blinked. “Crushing me? Evander, ye weigh a bloody ton. I can feel every bit of it.”
“I will take that as a compliment,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
She shifted against him, still catching her breath. “I didnae ken it could be like this,” she murmured, a playful edge creeping into her voice as she poked his side. “No one has ever touched me. If ye keep that up, husband, ye’ll ruin me for anything less.”
Evander huffed a quiet laugh, twirling one of her curls around his finger. “Careful, that almost sounded like praise.”
“Daenae get used to it,” she shot back, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her.
“How long do ye have?” she asked, nervously nibbling on her lower lip.
He ran a hand through her hair. “Another hour or so. What about ye?”
“Nay much longer,” she admitted, curling up against his side. “Whatever this is… it is unexpected. I am unsure of what to make of it.”
Evander tilted her chin just enough to meet her eyes. “Well, we are already in it. Might as well see how long we can get away with it before someone notices we are missing.”
Her breath hitched, heat spreading from her cheeks down to her chest. She had not expected him to be so blunt about it.
“I… I daenae ken what to say.”
He smirked. “Then daenae say anything. Just stay put.”
She should say no. Better yet, she had to say no. Letting him touch her once was dangerous enough, but for them to continue? It had bad idea written all over it. Yet the word aye tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it.
She flushed at the way he looked at her.
He looked at her like the rest of the Highlands had just disappeared. There was no calculation in it, just quiet amusement and something sharper underneath.
This was a bad idea. She knew it was. But she was already deciding she would keep seeing him for as long as she could.
Evander slid his fingers back inside her, making pleasure curl in her lower belly. She clutched at the bedsheets, biting her lower lip hard enough to bleed to keep from crying out his name.
She didn’t think she could live with herself if she did that.
But Evander did not let up. He seemed determined to make her reach completion a second time, something that did not seem possible.
Freya had touched herself alone before, in the darkness of her room at night, under the covers. Even then, she had blushed straight down to her shoulders, unable to believe what she had done.
It was not as if she were some blushing maiden, but she was surely acting like one.
Yet this was nothing like those stolen moments alone. Back then, she had known exactly what to expect, had held every thread in her own hands. Now she held nothing at all. Evander had taken the reins with maddening patience, and every time she thought she understood what her body would do next, it surprised her.
She should have been frightened by that. Losing control had always frightened her. Instead, she found herself trusting him.
That was the most astonishing part. Not the pleasure—though heaven knew there was plenty of it—but the trust. She had not expected to give it so easily.
For a long while, Freya couldn’t remember how to be a person.
She lay where he’d left her, one arm flung over her eyes, her heart beating so hard she could feel it in her fingertips, and waited for the world to put itself back together.
The room returned to her piece by piece: the linen beneath her, the guttering candle, the cold draught against her bare calves. She was still trembling. Small aftershocks ran through her like the last ripples across a loch after a stone has sunk into it.
The mattress shifted. Then he was beside her, a great warm weight settling along her side, and his hand found her wrist. He drew her arm gently away from her face, and she let him, though she wasn’t certain she wanted to be seen.
