his tongue slipped from between his lips. Taking his time, he trailed kisses from Helen’s temple to her ear, then down the side of her long, feminine neck.
Helen sighed—a high pitched, breathy sound that told Eoin she wanted him. Needing no more encouragement, his heart took over. His hand slid up and cupped her face as he gently plied her lips with a lingering kiss.
Her heartbeat drummed an intoxicating rhythm that carried to the tip of that bow-shaped mouth.
Sliding his fingers under her wimple and through her tresses, he brushed his tongue across her lips and coaxed them open. Once inside her mouth, she ensnared him, and all the gold in Scotland would not be payment enough to entice Eoin to pull away. She tasted fresh as the rain dripping from the eaves, but warm and soothing like a blast from a brazier. Opposed to the cold air surrounding them, her silken mouth welcomed him. Eoin’s legs weakened with the stirring of desire in his groin. He tightened his thigh muscles to regain a modicum of control.
She returned his kiss with another intoxicating sigh. Deeper his tongue probed while she ignited a bone-melting fire that thrummed through his blood. Though Eoin wanted to rush, to unlace her kirtle and fill his palms with Helen’s breasts, he was lucid enough to realize that attacking Lady Helen with such wild abandon would be folly. Taking his time, he controlled the pace with languid strokes of his tongue.
Helen swooned in Eoin’s arms. Overwhelmed by the tenderness of his touch, she was so lightheaded she couldn’t breathe…or stop.
Mm.
Aleck had never kissed her with his tongue—never turned her body to molten honey. And that’s how Eoin tasted—warmed, raw, delicious honey.
She’d been aware of Eoin’s manhood pressing into her nether parts since he first wrapped her in his embrace. She had stood very still for a moment, not wanting to encourage him, but not wanting to pull away either. His body felt so exquisitely warm, so powerful. For the first time in five years she knew sanctuary. A man with a caring heart like Eoin’s would protect his own. He was trained to be a knight by Helen’s father. Deeply-seated within his soul was the sense of right and honor.
Honor.
Helen’s entire body tensed. She forced herself to ease away from his kiss. It didn’t matter how much she wanted this man. He was not hers to covet. “We cannot.”
He tightened his grip and pressed his lips against her temple. “Forgive me.”
She chuckled. “I should thank you.”
“Why?” he whispered, his voice strained.
It was difficult to admit she’d never been kissed like that before. How could she put it? Her cheeks prickled with heat and she lowered her gaze.
The rough pads of his fingertips brushed along her jaw. “Are you all right?”
“Aye,” Helen said hoarsely. She looked directly at the lips that had just plied hers so reverently. They were slightly pursed, full and, by the stars, she wanted to kiss them again. “I’ve never…” She released her grasp and turned away. It was too humiliating to tell him.
She heard his quick inhale as he stepped behind her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, Eoin’s simple touch filled her with warmth. How could anyone sap her resolve with a mere touch? I should step away.
But Eoin’s breath caressed her cheek. “My guess is he is not tender with you.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Eoin looked at her with such deep care reflected in his eyes, she could not deny the truth. “You can read me too well.”
For a moment she thought—hoped he would kiss her neck, but instead, he nudged her tresses and wimple aside with his chin, his warm breath making gooseflesh rise along her shoulders. “It doesn’t take a seer to realize you’re being mistreated.”
Clapping a hand over her mouth, Helen closed her eyes and ground her teeth against her urge to cry. What a mess she’d made of her life. But she would not again break down in front of Eoin MacGregor. She needed no man’s sympathy. She must be strong.
“I cannot bear…” Eoin removed his hands from her shoulders.
Cold chills coursed across her skin. If only she hadn’t turned away, his arms would still be surrounding her. She faced him. “You cannot bear?”
“I-I’ve always held the sanctity of marriage in high esteem, yet I cannot bear to watch you suffer under the hands of that tyrant.”
Helen should admonish such a slander against her husband. But Eoin was not a servant. He was the only