Chapter 17

17

M urdoch watched Lydia's face flush deeply. She seemed torn between hurrying after his cousin and staying right where she was. Her conundrum made Murdoch smile.

He'd been irritated when he'd first seen Hector bounding over to greet him and listened to Wilma's strident words. After all, he'd come out to the fairy pools for privacy, a place to relax, cool his temper and clear his head. Being interrupted as he finished his swim was the last thing he'd needed.

At least, that is what he'd thought until he'd seen the way Lydia's gaze traveled over him, and noted the rising flush in her cheeks. Her widened eyes and sudden blush chased away all of his irritation, leaving him free to appreciate Lydia in turn.

Lydia Knox was a beautiful woman. Her wind-tousled hair and rosy cheeks only added to her allure. The way that she gazed at him with unmistakable desire pleased him greatly. Her blush reminded him she was still a maiden and that pleased him even more.

Murdoch took a step forward. Lydia took a step back. He silently watched as her expression wavered between nervousness and curiosity. Maiden she may be but she was no shy and shrinking damsel. "Afraid of me?"

As he'd expected, her chin rose and her eyes met his in that defiant manner that always made his blood simmer and his manhood stiffen. "Why would I be?"

Murdoch laughed, his eyes holding hers as he stepped closer and reached out to cup her cheek with one callused hand. "Why? Because every time I'm near ye, especially when we're alone, I find meself wanting to break yer rules."

Lydia blinked, her expression unfocused, clearly showing that he had her attention. Nevertheless, she managed an arched brow and a soft, teasing response. "Ye mean…ye daenae want to dine with me in the evenings?"

Murdoch rumbled, pulling her close enough for him to feel the heat of her body and the soft warmth of her breath on his chest. "Ye ken very well that's nae the rule I'm speakin' of breakin'."

He bent his head, his lips claiming her soft, full ones in a slow kiss. It wasn't as searing or as sharp as the one they'd shared in the corridor the day before, but it was no less heady. She tasted like wine, sweet cakes and sunlight, her hands soft as they clutched at his shoulders.

He swept his tongue across the delicate crease of her lips as she opened her mouth, letting him explore and claim her. Their tongues danced together, vying for dominance, as he swept one arm around her waist, and the other hand came up to cup her head.

They broke apart panting deeply. His arousal strained against his loincloth, making him ache in a way he'd never before experienced.

Her eyes sparkled like emeralds with stars trapped in their depths. "If that's the way ye break the rules, we'll have a fair chaste wedding night indeed."

"Vixen." He tipped her chin up as he pulled her flush against him. "Ye said ye'd decide, nay, that I couldnae tempt ye to decide in me favor. Are ye going to run from me now, or tell me to let ye go?"

"I'll nae run, but ye've nae convinced me to rescind me condition yet …me Laird." Her gaze was hot and coaxing, teasing and demanding, and yet still infused with a shadow of innocence. Her artless temptation made his blood race and his heart soar. His body strained and begged for some release.

He bent to whisper in her ear, his voice raw with desire. "Shall I show ye what it means to be a wife and lover to a laird, Lydia Knox?"

"Can ye, without breaking yer word to respect me conditions? For I rather think that's a thing I'd be interested to see, Murdoch." His name slid off her tongue with a smoothness of the most potent whiskey, and the heat it produced was just as strong and intoxicating.

He swept her back to lay amid the soft grasses at the edge of the pool, a beautiful flower amid the green. "Aye. That I can."

Lydia swallowed nervously as Murdoch bent over her, his eyes dark with desire, his expression sharp with a hunger she felt echoed in the deepest core of her being. A part of her wanted to escape, but a greater part of her wanted to stay, to feel his touch and his warmth.

She knew so little of Murdoch. If she could know him in part as a lover, perhaps she would see beneath the mask that concealed the rest of him.

His mouth swiftly claimed hers for another deep kiss, and any coherent thought she had dissolved under the urgent press of his lips against hers.

Her whole body tingled, and she gasped as his hand slid up her leg, molding cloth to thigh and leaving behind a trail of warmth that contrasted with the faint chill in the air, and the small bursts of cold as water dripped from his skin to hers.

Murdoch braced himself with one hand while the other glided across Lydia's stomach, caressing her, then higher still to gently stroke her breasts. The unfamiliar sensations made her shiver, but not with cold. It felt as if every part of her body was suddenly alert and wanting, in a way she'd never known before.

She tingled as his hands loosened the strings of her bodice and slid under the fabric to gently cup the soft mound of her right breast. Skillful fingers teased the sensitive flesh, sending sparks dancing through her as her nipples hardened into sensitive peaks under his ministrations.

Murdoch drew back and folded down the top of her dress to expose her breasts to his touch. He then leaned forward, kissing her again passionately before his mouth drifted to press against the corner of her jaw and trace a slow line down her throat. Every press of his lips, every touch of the rough stubble on his jaw, felt like she was filled with lightning, swirling through her straight to her core.

She did not know what to do, was helpless to do anything more than respond to his touch. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, reaching for anything to anchor her within the tidal wave of new sensations.

Kisses traced over her collarbone, then down the softer skin of her chest. Lydia shivered, a soft cry escaping her as Murdoch's mouth fastened over her breast and his teeth teased the already hardened nipple, nipping and suckling gently.

Murdoch's hand slid down her stomach, then gently across the junction of her thighs. Lydia gasped as the pressure of his hand sent an electric current through her, causing her to shiver and shift greedily against his palm.

Murdoch laughed, the sound sending waves of tingling pleasure through her body, straight to her core. His voice was low and husky when he spoke. "Ye like that? Shall I continue?"

The words wouldn't come. She arched into his hand, her whole being igniting with a need for something more. Lydia whimpered as Murdoch's hand slid lower, then began to tug up the material of her skirt, sliding it slowly and tantalizingly up her legs until it reached her thighs.

Lydia shivered at her awareness of cool air and soft grass so close to her most sensitive and secret places, Murdoch's mouth on her breast, and his hand slowly stroking its way up the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He was driving her mad with desire.

His fingers teased the skin of her upper thighs, then shifted to play in the soft curls that adorned her sex. Lydia quivered at his touch, shuddering under his hand as he stroked the fine hairs there. Her body trembled, caught between wanting more of his touch and a shyness that made her want to pull away.

Murdoch laughed again, and his lips moved to whisper in her ear with a voice like smoke-touched velvet. "Just relax, Lydia. Relax and enjoy yerself."

As if to punctuate his words, the tips of his fingers caressed the upper edges of her sex. Lydia whimpered at the sensation, hips pressing into his hand in wanton abandon as his touch sent waves of heat and desire through her body. "I…"

"Just relax and let me give ye what ye need." Murdoch's hand slid lower, stroking the lips of her sex, drawing slowly and sensuously through the moisture that had gathered between her thighs. "I can feel how ready ye are for me touch. Open yerself up to me, lass, and let me show ye what pleasure can be had from the touch of a lover; betrothed or husband."

His hands continued to stroke her, every touch sliding a little further between her thighs. Lydia shuddered deeply as her body responded in harmony to each movement of his fingertips with waves of sensation that bordered on overwhelming. Without thought, her knees parted to grant him further access.

Murdoch slid his hand lower, calloused palm pressing gently against the soft mound as his fingers traced the outer edges of her most sensitive areas from top to buttocks. Lydia squirmed, desperate for more as his hand caressed her.

She cried out as his finger slid inside her, pressing gently through the outer folds to glide across the slick inner walls of her sex. The feeling was like nothing she'd ever experienced, and Lydia couldn't help the soft noises that escaped her as he continued to probe deeper inside her.

There was heat pooling in her abdomen; moisture gathered at her thighs and the walls of her sex slickened. Intense pleasure robbed her of her words. The touch of Murdoch's hand and mouth combined and drove all sense of thought out of her mind.

His hand slid deeper, pressing a second finger into her as his thumb slid gently across the upper portion of her sex. Lydia jolted, moaning as his thumb found an especially sensitive spot that sent a burst of pleasure shooting through her like a wildfire.

Murdoch laughed again, and his thumb began to circle the sensitive spot, rocking her body with wave after wave of euphoria. It was more intense than she'd ever imagined could be possible, and she found herself gripping his arm, desperate for more of his touch. "Murdoch…"

The pleasure built higher, until she thought she would drown in it, or burn to ashes with the heat that filled her. Murdoch leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her pulse point, before biting down gently.

The sensation was too much. A firework of stars exploded behind her eyes as pleasure swept over her, flooding her body and carrying her away as she cried his name.

Murdoch….