19. Chapter 19

Chapter nineteen

“A lady must ensure her home remains a place of comfort and propriety, gently reminding guests that conviviality should not extend to the hour that disturbs the household’s slumber.” From The Polite Companion: A Lady’s Guide to Social Grace

S o this was lovemaking. Beth lay still, her limbs deliciously heavy, her body humming with the aftershocks of what they’d just shared. She blinked at the ceiling, stilling herself to take it in—the warmth on her skin, the ache of satisfaction deep within. Her gaze drifted to Boyd’s figure as he left the bed, his movements smooth, muscles flexing under the faint light. She found herself transfixed, her eyes lingering on the sculpted lines of his back, down to his hips. His buttocks flexed as he crossed the room. Was it... acceptable to stare at one’s lover like this? She almost laughed at herself—he was too handsome to resist, and she could always blame exhaustion, couldn’t she?

When Boyd returned with a cloth, his eyes widened at her open admiration, and a slow grin spread across his face. One thing was clear—whatever the expected boudoir etiquette, Boyd didn’t seem to mind her staring.

“See somethin’ ye like, lass?”

Beth’s cheeks flamed. “Admiring your... craftsmanship, Mr. Sandeman.”

His grin deepened as he sat, the bed creaking under his weight. “Craftsmanship, is it? Careful, lass. Compliments like that might give me ideas.”

His expression softened, and he brushed the cloth tenderly along her inner thighs, then upward to her sensitive flesh. The intimacy of the gesture made her cheeks flame, her heart pounding as he took care of her, his gaze reverent.

She stifled the impulse to move or cover herself. This went against everything she had ever learned of modesty but how good it felt.

He finished, then tossed the cloth aside and lay back, his arm slipping around her waist as he drew her close. His body was warm, solid, a fortress around her. She should have felt contented, perhaps even brave. Instead, a nervous flutter took hold. What happened now? She’d been bold enough to come to him, to share herself with him like this, but...

“Should I... return to my room?” Her voice wavered, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would ye do that, lass?”

Before she could answer, he pulled her atop his chest with ease, as if she were a rag-doll—albeit one that was utterly exhausted, utterly breathless, and utterly his. She collapsed against him, her head resting on his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat beneath her cheek, a steady, comforting rhythm.

Beth sighed. “It’s late, and you need your rest, so...”

Heat flooded her face as he caressed her bare skin, fingers lingering at her breast before circling her nipple with a lazy, knowing touch. Her pulse quickened, his heat igniting a wave of longing through her.

Boyd’s hand slid up her back, tracing circles at her shoulder. “Rest?” he whispered, his voice laced with mischief. “Oh no, Beth. I plan on making love to ye all night.”

Her eyes widened, her heart racing anew. “All night?” Her voice squeaked. “But... I thought a couple only—” She stopped herself, mortified.

Boyd’s laugh rumbled through her. “Ye thought? Lass, it seems I’ve got a lot to teach ye. And dinna fret—I’m a verra patient tutor.”

Her eyes widened as she felt herself melt under his gaze, his promise setting her heart racing again. “But what about the others—what will they think?” They’ve already been quite vocal as it was. How would they face them in the morning?

He grinned. “I don’t care.”

His wicked hands caressed her intimately, his fingers penetrating her slickness before guiding himself to her entrance. A shudder rippled through her as he pressed forward, his heat filling her inch by inch until she was utterly consumed.

His highlander growl sent a thrill skittering up her spine, and his lips captured hers with a desperate intensity. His kiss stole her breath, claiming her in a way that left no part of her untouched. Beth clutched him, her body trembling as the rhythm of their connection pulsed through her.

“Prepare your throat to scream plenty, love,” Boyd murmured against her ear. “Because until I’ve had my fill of ye, no one in this house sleeps.”

With that, he pulled her flush against him, leaving no space between them. His possessiveness sent a thrill through her, a pulse that traveled from her chest to her core. His heat surrounded her, his body a furnace that burned away every thought but one—him, her wicked Highlander.