Page 37 of Leila’s Legacy

His reply was a mere grunt. He had not pulled her from where she straddled his leg still.

“I liked it.” Leila slowly reached out and slid free another button of his doublet.

It was foolish to do, to encourage him further when he was ready to stop, to know that every kiss, every moment of longing brought her closer to loving him and thus closer to her own demise. But she could not stop, even if she wanted to. And she did not.

He gave a short groan and caught her face in his hands, kissing her once more. This time, the first meeting of their lips was explosive with lust. Their mouths moved frantically, tongues tasting, licking, stroking. His hands were all over her body, sending ripples of delight through her.

She moaned as she rocked her hips against him. He lowered his leg and pulled her into his lap, so she straddled his body. The hardness of his arousal pressed between her legs through his trews and her dress. Leila cried out and moved her hips the way he’d shown her.

The Lion worked at the top of her gown with blind fingers while he kissed her hungrily. Finally, he managed to tug it down enough to reveal her breasts above the lowered neckline. He lowered his head and caught one nipple in his hot mouth.

More tingles, more heat, more pleasure. So much, she could only gasp at the overwhelming and wonderful sensations whirling through her. She had worked free his doublet and pushed it from his body, so he wore only the linen shirt beneath. She was just beginning to lift it from his torso, revealing the banded muscle of his stomach beneath, when his hand slipped under her dress to her naked calf.

“Do ye trust me, Leila?” he asked.

Leila.

Her lips curled into a languid smile. She liked her name on his lips like that, without “lady” before it. It was intimate, sensual. Like him.

She nodded in reply, for though she should not, she did trust him. After all, mayhap the vision of her death might be one that changed. She knew better, of course. She’d had the dream too many times. But mayhap...

His fingers caressed up her legs in long, climbing strokes, over her knee, along the inside of her thigh, nearly to the apex of her legs. Her mind went blank of all thought.

His breath was coming faster, along with hers, as he crept his fingers higher still. So close. So close.

His fingertips grazed the cleft between her thighs. She sucked in a hard inhale.

“Ye’re so damn wet.” His face flinched in a look almost pained.

“Should I be?” she asked breathlessly.

He swallowed and studied her for a moment. He touched her sex once more, lingering, gliding in the slickness of her desire. When she cried out, the natural huskiness of her voice was almost hoarse.

“Aye,” he answered. “It’s what prepares a woman for a man.”

She nodded, knowing how such things worked. One could not heal without understanding the baser functions of the body. But he did not need to know how much she knew. “How?” she asked wickedly. “Tell me as you touch me.”

His finger circled the bud of her sex and pleasure sparkled and radiated everywhere.

“It makes yer passage soft and warm,” he said brokenly. “Ready for a man to glide himself into.” A digit nudged at her entrance, easing in just a scant fraction of an inch.

Leila’s head fell back with a moan. She wanted to sink down on his finger, to force it up inside of her, to douse the blazing desire before she burned to a cinder. But he shifted his hand upward once more to stroke the nub that sent stars flashing behind her lids.

“Do you want to glide yourself into me?” she asked.

He groaned and his jaw clenched. “This is about ye. No’ about me.” The circular caress became faster, almost a flicker, back and forth, back and forth until her blood was molten in her veins.

“Aye, Leila.” His voice was low and gravelly. “Come for me, lass.”

Her crises washed over her like a shower of sparks: brilliant, hot and glowing. He caught her mouth with his, drinking in the cries of her delight. Her heart was racing, and her breath came too fast, but she scarcely noticed. Her entire being felt as though it was flying, floating high up above the puffy white clouds and toward the intensity of a beautiful hot sun.

She opened her eyes and found the Lion studying her face. Her mouth opened, but she had no words to say. At least not before he spoke ahead of her.

“I shouldna be here.” His gentle tone did not dull the sting of his words. “I shouldna have done what I did.” He eased her off of his lap.

“Stay with me.” She allowed him to set her away from him and help her to standing.

“I canna. Leila, ye’re…” He shook his head, not finishing his sentence.

The glow of her release cooled with his implication. “I know. You’re Deputy to the Keeper of Liddesdale and I’m your prisoner.”

His mouth curled into a sardonic smile. “It isna that. Ye’re too damn beautiful. I think of ye often. Day and eve. ’Tis foolish, I know, but I canna seem to stop. To stay here with ye would be too tempting when I have matters that must be tended to.”

She wanted to goad him, to press him as to what would be too tempting, but she already knew. It was evident in the arousal that still strained in his trews after she’d had her own relief. He had given her pleasure even as he had remained frustrated.

Without another word, he gathered up the tray, inclined his head and slipped from the room, leaving her alone with the branding of memories from what they’d done. Emotions tangled against one another until she could scarce sort love from fear.

For no matter how much she tried to resist, she could not stop herself from the incredible lure of The Lion. Once, not so long ago, she wondered how she could love a man she knew would kill her, but now she understood just how easy it could be.