Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
D inner was another one of Aihan’s tasty concoctions of meat and vegetables, this time pan fried with spices and more of her noodles. When Col was preparing to take the dogs out after the meal, Aihan surprised him by appearing in cloak and boots and demanding to accompany him.
He smiled and shrugged. “If ye like, lass.” It was a fine night to cap off a fine day, and although the air was nippy it wasn’t cold by Scottish standards. Striking out across the grass towards the trees, the dogs sprinted ahead, not that Hector could keep up with Gussie, but the deerhound would circle back to collect her companion regularly, thus stretching her long legs twice to three times as much as Hector’s short ones. If she suddenly took it into her head to course after something she saw, Hector would give up and come back to him to wait for Gussie to return. Which she would in her own good time.
He was conscious of Aihan striding out beside him. She didn’t seem to have any difficulty keeping up with him, despite her lack of inches, but then she did have long legs for her height. Thoughts of those legs and what lay at their apex had latent heat stirring to life in his breeches. Was she contemplating a reprise of last night or not?
“My brother, Liang,” she began abruptly, interrupting his train of thought.
“He’s yer brother?” he said with some measure of relief. Not that he seriously thought the man could be her husband after she made such blatant overtures to him, but it was good to know the relationship.
“Aye,” she said. “Did I nae say?”
He shook his head. “Ye may have in yer own language, lass, but I didnae ken it.”
“I need to find him. Ye help me?”
“Of course, lass.” He hesitated and then went on. “He went south. If I tell ye where he was last sighted, will ye promise not to go haring off on yer own?”
She stopped and turned to face him. Putting a hand on his chest, she looked up into his face. The moonlight caught her dark eyes and made them glitter, casting part of her face in shadow. “Aye. Tell me.”
He frowned, still reluctant. But she had a right to know, didn’t she? “He was last seen in Carlisle.”
“Where that?”
“Just south of the Scottish–English border.”
She frowned, not understanding.
“I’ll show ye on a map when we get back,” he offered.
She nodded. “Good.”
He covered her hand where it lay burning a hole in his chest. “Nae running off?” he persisted.
She smiled slightly. “Nae running off.”
“Good,” he said, relieved. “Ye could come to harm, lass, on yer own in a strange country. Not all men are as nice as me.”
“I can protect myself,” she said calmly.
“Aye, I know, one to one, but can ye fight off a whole pack of men or prevent yerself being duped, or robbed? Ye’re learning the language right well, lass, but ye’re not up to snuff yet. And yer beautiful face will make ye a target.”
“Ye care?” she asked with a shy dip of her head and a look up through her lashes that fair sent him to the grass.
“Of course I bloody care!” he said roughly.
She reached up then and kissed him. His arms came round her instinctively, and it was last night all over again. Except they were standing in the middle of a field in the moonlight, with Hector sniffing round their legs and Gussie God knew where.
His cock was hard in his breeches, and he wanted to lay her down in the grass and—He broke the kiss and said, a trifle breathless, “Did ye prepare, lass?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
He cupped her face and kissed her forehead. “Go back to the house, and I’ll meet ye in yer room when I’ve found Gussie. That is, if ye want to?” he asked.
“Aye,” she said, reaching up and giving him a lingering kiss. Then she whipped away, heading back to the house, and he whistled for Gussie. Not that he had high hopes she’d come. The wee besom had a mind of her own and would come when she wanted, and not before. It was half an hour later that he made his way up the stairs, trailing both dogs, and knocked quietly on Aihan’s door.
She opened it and let him in. Stepping over the threshold, he saw she was wearing a loose robe in fuchsia pink, embroidered with green and gold leaves. The sight of it caused him a pang. He recognised it as one of Cat’s, of course. And for a moment his heart turned over. Can I do this? Then she shut the door and slid her arms round his neck and his arms came round her and her mouth was under his, and he stopped thinking with his brain.
He pulled her tight against him, his hands slipping on the silky fabric, feeling the heat of her body through it, her slender limbs. He pushed the robe off her shoulders, baring her soft skin to his wandering mouth. She loosened the tie at her waist, and the whole garment fell at her feet, revealing her whole body naked to his sight. She was slim and muscular, small boned and refined. Her waist narrow, her hips slim, her breasts, as he already knew, small. He took a moment to appreciate her.
Something he had resolutely refused to do when she was ill. He wondered at his restraint then, but now he looked his fill and cupped her breasts with their pinkish-brown nipples, fine and pointed. He took in the dark, crinkly hair covering her mound. He’d felt it last night, coarse and curly, but not seen it.
“Ye’re like a delicate bird,” he murmured, massaging those breasts in his great hands. She flung her head back, arching her neck, her eyes closed, and made a noise of appreciation. He kissed her neck. Then he scooped her up and deposited her on the bed and wrenched his clothes off in desperate haste. The dogs had settled before the hearth.
Approaching the bed naked, his cock jutting firmly from his groin, he knelt on the bed. “Ye’re sure about this, lass?”
She nodded, smiling and reaching for him. “Aye, Mac. If I wasn’t, ye wouldn’t be here.”
With a soft groan, he pushed her back into the pillows, his body trembling with the pent-up desire he’d been struggling with all day. He would have thought last night would have assuaged his hunger, but it seemed to have made it worse. He wanted her with an aching longing.
He covered her in kisses, his hands everywhere. Her skin was smooth and warm, her body pliable and responsive to his touch. He found her nipples with his mouth and suckled, first one, then the other, making her mewl and pant in a very satisfactory way.
His hand wandered lower and found her as wet as he’d hoped to. His fingers stroked and probed, slipping inside her, and she pushed up into his touch, moving her hips in that entrancing, sinuous way she had last night. Her eyes were almost closed, and she wore a half-smile as she helped him make her come.
“God in heaven, lass, ye’re beautiful,” he whispered as her face flushed and she panted, closing in on her orgasm with softly uttered moans and gasps that made his cock leak and twitch.
He worked at a nipple with his mouth while his fingers stroked her within and his thumb pleasured her without. She arched her body, crying out, and trembled with her crisis. He lifted his head to watch her face as her expression of desire twisted and disintegrated into satisfaction, her body relaxing in the aftermath.
He drew her close and kissed her softly on the forehead, waiting for her to come back to herself fully. Leaning over her, his weight on his elbows, he stroked a strand of black hair off her face as her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled up at him.
“Good, lass?”
She nodded. “Aye.”
She stroked his face, her fingers catching on his stubble. He’d not thought to go to his room and wash and shave before coming to her. He should have. He’d work hard today, and he was sweaty and must stink, but she didn’t seem to mind.
She pushed at his chest, and he backed away and in the next moment found himself flat on his back. She ran her hands and mouth over his chest, licking his skin.
“Mm,” she murmured. “Salty.”
He laughed and then choked on a groan as one hand reached for his cock, and grasping, stroked him firmly.
“Ye dinnae mess about, do ye lass?” he said breathlessly. Her small hand on his cock was a blessed torture, and in another moment he groaned. “Fook, Hana, I want ye.”
She raised an eyebrow and moved to straddle him. “Ye have only to say,” she said, guiding him into place. He watched, fascinated, as she sat down on him and the tight wet heat of her engulfed him in bliss. He closed his eyes, arching his neck back into the pillow. “Fook, that’s exquisite,” he muttered.
“Aye, good,” she agreed, panting a bit as she rode him. He reached to touch her, and she bent forward to kiss him, an open-mouthed kiss that became sloppy and urgent as she moved faster on him. She broke the kiss on a groan, and he felt the flutter of her release in her muscles.
It set his own body alight, and he flipped her onto her back, driving into her hard and fast, unable to stop. He crested the wave with a deep groan as heat gathered at the base of his spine and pleasure poleaxed his senses, rushing up his cock, his muscles convulsing with release. “Oh, fook!” he moaned, riding the waves of shuddering delight. They gradually wound down, and his body collapsed on her in boneless bliss.
He shifted his head and kissed her damp neck. She tasted salty too. “So good, lass. So good,” he murmured. Her hands stroked his sweaty back and her lips grazed his temple.
“Aye,” she whispered.
Eventually he moved sideways and contrived to get them both under the covers, now they had cooled down and their skin was beginning to prickle into gooseflesh. Pulling her into his arms, they wriggled around until they were comfortable, and he said softly, “alright Hana?”
“Aye,” she repeated, nestling her head into his chest.
He closed his eyes, and it occurred to him that his musings earlier in the day—that it was unwise to continue this liaison if she was to leave—were absolutely correct. But it was too late. He was in deeper than he ought to be and heading for another dose of heartache. But the pleasure and peace in the here and now was too tempting to resist. His future self would pay the price for this, but right now—his arms tightened round her. He needed this. More than he had realised until this moment. He kissed the top of her head and let out a breath, his body fully relaxing into the rustling mattress.
He woke in the night when she got up to use the chamber pot. And when she came back to bed, he kissed her, stroked her, until they were joined and moving in silent accord towards a mutually satisfying climax.
He wasn’t about to make comparisons with Cat. He’d loved her with a young man’s fierce passion; this was different. Perhaps because he was older and had been alone so long? Everything with Aihan seemed simple and straightforward. Not that she was simple. He sensed depths to her, as yet unplumbed by him. The language barrier represented a hurdle of sorts. That was gradually being overcome. But the differences in their cultures, in what was accepted as the norm and what was not, were a mystery to him.
Her self-possession and maturity made it easy to be with her, and that was an enormous relief. She did not demand a great deal from him, yet she was physically responsive and passionate. And provided he could trust her not to run off, he thought he could relax his guard a little. He sighed, nuzzling into the bedclothes and the warmth of her embrace. It was too much to think about right now. He’d take what he could while he could get it, mindful it couldn’t last. That at some point she would leave. But not yet . . . .