Page 50 of Leila’s Legacy

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Leila’s heart raced at her own brazenness as she nudged Niall’s doublet to the floor. The white leine he wore beneath was of average quality linen, thick and opaque. The open neckline revealed the muscles of his neck and the hidden strength along his chest.

Her hands trembled as they skimmed down his firm torso to the hemline of the leine.

“Leila.” Her name came out in a deep baritone.

She stilled and lifted her gaze to his burning stare.

“Ye’re a lady.” He tensed. “I canna—”

She shook her head. “Don’t say anything more.”

“Yer maidenhead—”

She put up a hand to stop him. “I know my future,” she said carefully. “I will not throw away this one chance at happiness because it isn’t proper.”

His brows furrowed with a pained expression. “I willna hurt ye, Leila. I’d never hurt ye.”

She traced her fingertip over the sharp line of his jaw. The whiskers prickled over her skin and caught at her short nail. “Love me, Niall.”

He gave a wounded groan and lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, one filled with passion and promise. Her hands found their way to the hem of his leine once more and drew it upward. He grasped it with her, tugging it over his head and tossing it aside, before reaching for her once more.

His body was beautiful in movement, muscles bunching, shadowed valleys shifting. A golden line of hair trickled down his rippled abdomen from the base of his navel where it dipped into the waistline of his trews. He pulled her to his hard body, pressing her to his hot skin as he kissed her.

Her hands moved over his exquisite back, seeing with her hands every carved line of his strength.

“If ye keep touching me like that, I willna last long,” he said in a low voice.

She ran her fingers along his sides and down the bands of his stomach to the sprinkling of hair that descended into his trews. “Like this?” she asked innocently.

He growled and caught her hands. “No’ yet. No’ when ye’re still fully clothed.”

Leila lifted an eyebrow and slowly turned around to put her back to him where her kirtle was tied closed. Niall swept her hair aside and grazed his lips against the sensitive dip where her neck and shoulders met. She gasped in happy surprise as prickles of pleasure played over her skin.

He curled his strong arms around her and held her body snug to his own, so her bottom pushed against the length of his arousal. “I want ye so verra much,” he whispered beside her ear, his breath warm and tantalizing where it swept over her. He stroked her skin from her neck to her shoulder and back again before tracing the same path with his mouth, his tongue.

Leila pushed back into him, arching against his erection with a moan. Desire pulsed at her core.

“I want ye,” he repeated in a low groan. “But I want to take my time with ye. To savor ye.” There was a gentle tug at the back of her kirtle as he pulled free the bow tied there. “To savor us.”

With one hand, he ran his fingers up the column of her throat, leaning her head back against his powerful shoulder. He nuzzled his nose to her neck, followed by the heat of his lips and then the rasp of his whiskered chin. As he made her nearly melt with kisses, the fingers of his free hand worked at the back of her kirtle.

He pressed his lips just below her ear.

He slipped a lacing free.

He nipped her earlobe gently.

Another lacing slipped free.

“Mo chridhe,” he murmured into her ear, “I canna wait to unveil ye.”

Another lacing slipped free.

Mo chridhe. My heart.

Leila closed her eyes at the caress of his endearment, at what it meant. The kirtle now gaped at her back and let in tendrils of icy air in contrast to the burn of her longing. Niall held her shoulders with both hands now and swept his fingers down over her chest, brushing the tops of her breasts.