Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Leo gave her a slow smile that made her blood hum in her veins and made her hyperaware of how the fabric of her dress and stays wrapped around her skin. Her chest rose and fell as Leo's gaze dropped and then trailed back up.

"Is this how it shall be between us, I wonder," he murmured.

Agnes wondered if she'd somehow been too forward and too na?ve again, and put a hand to her throat, where she felt her rapid pulse. "Is that so wrong?"

"Nay, but I thought I was seducin' ye and nae the other way around," Leo said. His big hands were gripping the blanket below them. "Stand up and turn ‘round, wife."

"Why?" Agnes said, even as she did so.

Leo laughed, a sound that made her think of embers glowing in the dark, and rose on one knee, spinning her. "Because I told ye to. And because if I dinnae divest ye of these skirts, I shall ruin this pretty gown. And Madame Senga is quick, but nae that quick."

Agnes gasped as Leo first removed her kirtle and then her skirts and farthingale with ease, turning in time to see him shake them out, fold them longways, and tuck them to the side. She shivered, realizing she stood in front of him in nothing but her stockings, chemise, and stays.

At once, she felt a lightness that made her think she could leap and fly, but at the same time, she'd never felt more tethered to the earth by a searching, gray gaze.

"What is that look?" Leo asked in a husky voice.

Summoning her courage, Agnes stepped forward and ran her hands through his dark hair, her breath catching at the soft, dense texture of it. He groaned and slid his hands up her legs, then under her chemise and over her bare thighs. A gasp escaped her lips, and she leaned down as Leo gazed at her.

For a moment, she thought to kiss him, and his gaze sparked with a challenge—and wariness. All at once, the darkness of his mask seemed to leap at her, as though both had forgotten its presence until then. It did not seem to matter that Agnes had her hands on him—Leo felt distant. Faltering, she instead pressed her lips to his warm forehead, and he huffed out a laugh.

Perhaps a real lady would know what to do.

"Ye are a real lady, Nes," Leo growled, and Agnes started when she realized that she'd spoken out loud. "Though, I cannae promise that I'll treat ye like one right now."

"Hm— oh ."

Agnes let out a delighted shriek as Leo caught her with easy strength, sweeping her off her feet from where he knelt, then the ground was at her back, and he was hovering over her.

"I'm not sure I'd know the difference, husband."

His throat worked, and he shook his head once, as though to try and steady himself, and Agnes laughed. With a harsh masculine sound, a curse in Gaelic, he told her what it was called as he undid her stays.

Agnes did not know what to do with her hands, and her body seemed to react, arching and twisting. To try and keep herself sane, she gasped out, "How do you know how to do this?"

"A misspent youth," Leo said with a dark laugh that made her toes curl. "One I intend to make up for—and one I hope ye reap somethin' from."

"What—ah, Leo, " Agnes cried out.

He'd exposed her breasts to the cool air and then cupped them in his heated, rough hands. His thumbs did wicked things to her poor nipples. Then, as though that wasn't enough, he lowered his head, laving one with his hot tongue.

Agnes made a rough, desperate sound that made her husband laugh, the vibration tickling her as much as the scruff on his face, and she fisted her hands in his hair. She'd never imagined such a sensation, how she'd beg for more.

I forgot how much pleasure he can wring from me.

"Ye willnae forget again," Leo said, and Agnes truly thought he could read her mind at that moment, for he had slid his other hand under her chemise, finding her aching center.

His fingers teased her over and over, while his other hand and lips teased her breasts.

Agnes squirmed and begged, thinking she'd never forget all the contrasts. The peaceful and whispering forest around them, catching the echoes of her cries and pleas for his heated touch. The expanse of the sky, soft and distant, and the firm ground beneath her back. The shadow and weight of Leo and the light and sparks in his eyes.

He nipped her breasts, and at the same time, he pressed his thumb to her core. Her vision went white. Agnes's entire being seemed to clench, arching up off the ground, nothing but an endless coil of bliss.

But Leo wasn't done. She vaguely felt him take her hands and put them on her breasts, and then he slipped down her body, pushing up her chemise. Cool air brushed against her center. Agnes gasped, propping herself up on one elbow in time to see Leo on his stomach, with his head between her legs.

Excitement pulsed through her as Leo nuzzled at her, nipping the inside of her thigh and then giving her a heated look. Their eyes locked as he pressed a chaste kiss to her core.

And then Agnes fell back, gasping, as her husband ran his tongue up her heat. Then he began to taste her, as one might savor and devour a delectable meal.

She clutched at her breasts, kneading them, trying to find relief from the way Leo was torturing her so wonderfully. Her body lifted and rose in a way that came from some deep instinct, and she gasped when he pinned her down and tilted her hips up.

Agnes screamed his name as that white-hot bliss descended again, crashing over her and wringing her out, leaving nothing. All the while, Leo continued, more leisurely, as though satisfied with himself.

She could not move after, limp and nearly delirious. Leo, however, got up and retrieved a cloth, cleaning her and caring for her.

When she could make sense of things again, rather than feeling like floating, brilliant embers in a dancing breeze, she realized he'd sprawled next to her, his head propped up on one hand and his eyes half-closed.

He looked relaxed and satisfied, with a bit of smug male pride that made Agnes shiver as she sat up. She gasped as she realized her breasts were still bare and immediately began to tuck them back into her stays. They were tender and pink, and Leo groaned when she tied her stays again.

"I liked the sight of ye," he said. "Undone as is only fair." He lay back and threw an arm over his face. "I should've taken all yer clothes off. One day."

"Is that a promise?" Agnes asked archly and then clapped a hand over her mouth.

She went to get up, to get dressed before she could descend further into madness, but Leo caught her wrist and dragged her close.

"Shouldn't we go back?"

Leo somehow laid his head in her lap, gazing up at her, and he took her hand, pressing a kiss to her wrist. "Such haste," he murmured. "I might think that ye didnae feel pleasure, except I ken how ye screamed and begged for me, wife." He smirked at her. "So, tell me it was good."

Something flashed in his eyes, a flicker of doubt, and Agnes pressed a hand to his chest.

"I did not know it could feel so good—that a man could…" She shivered. "Is it like that for you?"

"I like to give ye pleasure," Leo said, and Agnes frowned, causing him to let out a laugh. "I enjoy seein' ye unravelin'. But nay, nae yet. We need to ease into that."

"Why?" Agnes demanded and pressed her hands to either side of his face. "Is it because you also sense that something is missing?" A latent courage had seeped into her veins, and she stroked a single thumb down the side of his warm leather mask. His eyes went wide. "Perhaps because of this foolish mask?"

Agnes caught the edge of it, moving slowly but ready to tear it off and throw it into the woods, when Leo caught her wrist. He sat up, and she missed the weight of his head in her lap and tried to pull her hand free. But he wouldn't let go.

For a moment, they stared at each other, and a peculiar idea occurred to her—perhaps one day they might learn to speak without words.

"It isnae for meself, but for me people, and that includes ye, Nes," Leo said.

Every time he said that little pet name, Agnes was thrilled by it, but not this time. She pulled her hand free and sighed, shaking her head and placing her hands in her lap. "I don't believe that. But sure, perhaps it's for the best in other ways."

"Other ways?" he asked and tilted his head. "What d'ye mean?"

She gazed at him, certain she'd never seen a more handsome man, the fine, sculpted side of his face that was not hidden so beautiful that it made her stomach flutter.

"You know that you are attractive enough that someone like me might faint to see your true self." She gestured to him. "One bit of your handsomeness makes it hard for me to think." She gazed up at the sky and admitted, "I probably would not be able to stand against you. Not even to come up with a single condition of my own. I'd just go along with all of yours. I'd be so smitten, so lost in your beautiful gray eyes and your fine face."

The breeze picked up around them, and Agnes sighed, lost in her thoughts. Until there was a choked laugh, and she looked down. Leo's gray eyes were brimming with amusement and deviltry.

"Beautiful?" he repeated in a low voice. "Fine? And nary a single condition, Nes?"

Agnes clapped her hands over her mouth. Oh, all that dratted pleasure had gone straight to her head in the same way that the nuns warned drink did. She'd said such foolishness—and admitted that he was so attractive to her that it had become a weakness.

"Is all that true, me little wife?" Leo asked with a knowing glint in his eyes.

The deeper, more wicked roll of laughter in his voice irritated Agnes, and she went to stand up, desperate to put on her clothes, but Leo caught her wrist.

"No. You are mocking me, you brute?—"

Leo pulled her close, into his arms and lap, and then his lips were on hers. Agnes jolted with shock, akin to plunging into the cold sea on a hot day, the breathlessness of it. And then she melted against him, clutching at his shirt. He pressed a hand to her face, tipping her head up so that he could kiss her deeper, and then his tongue stroked inside.

Agnes let out a pitiful whimper, and his arm around her tightened. He tasted of salt and sweetness, yet this kiss felt desperate to Agnes. It was as though he could not get enough of her, as though he'd been denied for an age and might never stop.

I do not want him to stop.

So swept away by this kiss, lighting her up with the same passion that he had given her thrice now, Agnes did not worry. She trusted herself to know what to do, copying Leo and then teasing him back, nipping his lower lip once. That elicited a groan from him, and he gripped her head tighter, kissing her harder so that she forgot everything.

With a gasp, they broke apart, and Leo pressed his forehead against Agnes's. "Ye wee devil. How are ye real?" His lips brushed against hers. "I must be dreamin'."

"You dream of ravishing almost-nuns?" Agnes asked pertly, and Leo let out a laugh.

He went to kiss her again, but Agnes won this race, kissing him hard. The edge of his mask pressed against her face, and she nipped his lower lip again. Of course, he'd both given her and not given her what she wanted.

The only trouble was, now Agnes knew what she wanted more.

"I want all of you," she told Leo as she pulled back. "I will not settle for less."

"I might say the same of ye," he said back in a rough voice.

She leaned forward and carefully, gently pressed a kiss to his lips. Leo did not move and let her explore. She gave him soft pecks, marveling at the way the rough bristles on his face felt against her cheeks and the way he let out a huff of air when she nipped his lips.

"Will ye kiss me?" Leo demanded, and Agnes laughed.

Then, trying to copy her husband, she pressed a fierce kiss to his mouth and arched against him. But she was uncertain and paused, so Leo took over, kissing her slowly and deeply. It sent a frisson of excitement up her neck, and she trembled in his arms.

When they broke apart, this time both were at a loss for words. Leo looked up at the sky, and Agnes followed his gaze.

She noted that evening was drawing near fast, and she shivered. "May I get dressed again—and then we can kiss again?"

Leo grumbled. "If ye must."

But he helped her up and into her clothes, and then spun her back to him, their lips meeting. As wonderful as kissing him in his lap had been, Agnes loved feeling him towering over her, surrounding her, and she pressed against him, going up on her tiptoes?—

She suddenly pulled back, and Leo shook his head as though dazed. But Agnes thought she'd heard something. She glanced at the horses, noting that both seemed restless, and the forest around them seemed starker, quieter.

A faint yet pungent whiff of smoke drifted to her.

"Leo," Agnes said and looked up at him. "I smell smoke."

The look that came over her husband's face was not one that she would forget for the rest of her days. Such stark horror leaped into those gray eyes. All the light was gone, and the lines of his face were bleak as he turned northwest.

In the sky, they could see a faint line of smoke. Black as pitch, it curved with an ominous weight against the pale sunset.

Something on the shore of Loch Briorn was burning.