“Then why don’t you?”
“Because I cannae bear to let you go,” he admitted in a hoarse rush.
He kissed her again, a duel of tongues and lips and teeth that a short while ago would have scared her. Now her hunger met his. God almighty, when he finally got her into bed, they’d set the night alight.
Elspeth struggled free of the kiss to stare at him in wonder. “Good Lord, Brody, you sound like you mean that.”
“What the hell?” He frowned. “Of course I bloody mean it.”
A jubilant smile curved those full red lips. “How splendid.”
“You’re gloating,” he said, with a hint of resentment.
“I am.” She snagged her fingers in the hair at his nape and gave a gentle tug. That shouldn’t bolster his excitement, but it did. Perhaps because she touched him without a hint of hesitation. “I’m very pleased with myself indeed.”
Cursing those voluminous skirts that hampered his access to her, he hitched her up until her feet dangled in the air. “I’m suffering.”
Two days ago, she’d been nothing to him but Hamish’s shy, bookish sister. Now the mocking look she cast him under thick, dark eyelashes sent his heart slamming to a quivering stop. “Excellent.”
“Ye wee witch,” he groaned. “Kiss me again.”
He leaned in, lifting her against the wall and glorying in the way her thighs curled around his hips. By God, she was almost where he wanted her. He tilted his hips into her. Even as she kissed him as if he was the air she breathed, she gave his hair a sharper tug. The sting did nothing to quiet his pounding arousal.
Brody swung her around and settled her on the leather couch, although taking things just so far, but no further prolonged his agony. Better by far to let her go now.
He must like pain, because his hands shifted from that sweet rump to her breasts. Through her bodice, his thumbs teased the hard peaks of her nipples.
As he edged the dress down, he covered her décolletage with a rain of kisses. If he didn’t see her soon, he’d go mad. He tasted the valley between her breasts, drinking in the heady scent of her skin, then tugged aside gown and shift to reveal one creamy white breast.
“By God, you’re bonny, Elspeth,” he muttered and kissed the deep pink, puckered nipple.
Her broken moan betrayed her pleasure, before she jerked under him and pushed at his shoulders. “We can’t, Brody.”
“I ken,” he said with infinite regret, suckling that perfect peak to heighten his torment.
She cried out and buried her hands in his hair. “Stop it.”
“You like it.”
“Of course I do, but someone could come in.”
“Certo, you have that right,” said a mocking voice from across the room. “Someone has indeed come in.”
Brody wrenched upright in horror, to find Marina watching them from beside the closed door. Even in that appalling instant, something in Brody noted that his cousin’s wife didn’t look too shocked to find him with Elspeth.
“Oh, blast,” Elspeth muttered. As she sat up, she fumbled at her bodice. Brody stumbled off the couch and stood away from her. Her hands were shaking so badly that she wasn’t making much headway.
He whipped his coat off and passed it to her. She wrapped it around her shoulders with a mumbled thanks.
“We were just—” he started.
Marina’s lips twitched. “Yes, you were just. I’m not sure that a night when the house is full of people is the best time to satisfy your passion.”
Elspeth was blushing like a tomato and clutching his coat as if she wanted to shrink into it and disappear. “Things went too far.”
“No, they didn’t,” he interjected, before Marina could misinterpret that rash admission.
The abrupt switch from heat and desire to the demands of real life left him reeling. His gut clenched hard on regret and the churning remnants of arousal. Heat still pumped through him, making him feel like his skin was too small to contain his body.