Scandalous Scot by Cecelia Mecca & Julie Johnstone

Author:Cecelia Mecca & Julie Johnstone [Mecca, Cecelia & Johnstone, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Time travel
Published: 2020-05-18T16:00:00+00:00

18

DON’T DO IT.

You didn’t spend the last week trying to figure out how to start over with her, to make it right, only to fuck everything up again.

Ian’s impulsiveness had gotten him into this mess, and he wasn’t going to let it continue to screw with Màiri. Not when he knew he would have to leave her. He let her hand go.

But she didn’t move. Instead, his wife looked at him as she had that night in the tub. As she had earlier tonight at dinner. It was the look of a woman who’d never experienced passion—and wanted to start with him. Maybe Ambrose could show her . . .

The hell he would.

Ian wove his hand into the hair just above her neck, pulling her head close. And then he kissed her.

For real this time.

One minute, he was coaxing her tongue to tangle with his own, the next, his hands were everywhere. As Màiri kissed him back, all he could think about was showing her more.

Showing her everything.

Blood pounded through his veins, urging him on. To kiss her harder. To feel, and let her feel too. He was being reckless. Some part of him knew it, the part that had stayed away from her door at night, despite the hundreds of times his eyes had strayed to it. The part of him that had stopped her from washing him in the tub, that had ignored the desire in her eyes.

But the other part of him . . .

“If you had any idea how bad I want this. Want you. Màiri.”

Fuck Ambrose. He would not let that man be the first to bring her pleasure.

Ian spun them toward the closest column, pressing her back against it. And then he kissed her again, more slowly. Taking his time, he ran his tongue across her lower lip, teasing her until the telltale pull of his linen shirt told him she wanted more.

Her gown was too damn confining. But Màiri’s neck and chest were exposed to him. He should know—he had been staring at the swell of her breasts all night. Indulging himself now, he trailed a path of kisses from her neck downward. Inching the neckline as low as he was able, he let his lips explore every inch of skin not bound by velvet fabric.

“I did not think . . . ,” he heard her whisper as if it were some far-off sound.

Ian lifted his head.

“That I wanted you? Are you kidding me? Màiri, I’ve never wanted a woman more. If you had any idea of your own power.”

He grabbed her hand, something that was becoming a habit with them, and then did the stupidest fucking thing yet. Ian guided it downward onto him, watching Màiri’s eyes to be sure he wasn’t scaring her. He watched as understanding dawned.

“You did that. Tonight. In the tub. The first time we met. At our wedding. Hell, even just knowing you’re in the same room does this to me. It’s been damn uncomfortable to be around you, Màiri,” he admitted.

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