He leaned closer, their shoulders brushing and hazy predawn light filtering through the roofless castle. She stared into his eyes, allowing herself just the tiniest moment to sink into their depths and dream. The more time they spent together, the more she wanted to. There was something intoxicating about him. A sweet she wanted to devour.
Before she could decipher what was happening, his lips brushed ever so gently across hers. Jenny gasped, mesmerized at the soft warmth and the jolt of awareness that spiraled through her. Just when she had the wherewithal to press her lips back, his mouth left hers much too quickly.
“I’m sorry, lass,” he whispered, eyes on hers. “I shouldna have done that without asking.”
She flicked her gaze from his eyes to his lips. And threw caution to the wind. “Dinna be sorry.”
“I’ve been wanting to do that for far too long.”
“And I’ve been wanting ye to.” She shouldn’t. She could feel herself getting caught up in the whirlwind of things she’d forbidden herself. Clan and country first. But resisting Toran had been a test she seemed doomed to fail.
He leaned in again, and she tipped her face up, meeting him halfway as his lips connected to hers. He took her hand in his and pressed it over his heart, the thump of it beating beneath her trembling fingertips.
“Ye feel that?” he asked. “’Tis what ye do to me every time we cross paths.”
“Ye’ve a way with words. Do ye speak to all the lasses like that?” she teased, smiling and wishing he’d kiss her some more.
“Nay.”
He couldn’t know how much that single denial made her want to swoon. She let her eyes close, reliving the soft kisses, his words, and breathing him in. He smelled of adventure—horses, leather, the outdoors, a subtle spice, and a faint hint of sweat.
“Will ye let me kiss ye some more?” he asked.
This was the chance she had to deny him, to tell him again that her life’s goal was to see the prince returned to his rightful throne—and nothing else. Changing her purpose on the flap of a crow’s wings was to be untrue to herself.
And yet denying him, letting him go, seemed also to be a betrayal to herself.
How could she have both?
It was impossible.
But right now, in this ruined castle, in the dark, with their enemies at bay and no warring or planning to be done, when she should be sleeping, she could allow him to kiss her some more. To indulge in a moment she might remember when things turned bleak.
“Aye,” she said, her mouth forming the affirmation before her mind had fully comprehended or determined what she wanted.
Toran’s hand slid over her cheek and tucked behind her head, tugging her closer as his lips pressed firmly to hers. The soft, tentative kiss they’d shared a moment before was replaced by this heady melding of lips.
Jenny sighed, her hand pressed to his heart, curling her fingers in his shirt, wanting to hold on forever. Their mouths moved to better fit, his breath on her cheek, her heart pounding in her chest.
When she thought their kiss could not grow any more intense, he licked her.
Well, not a lick exactly. More like a swipe of his tongue. A flick over her lips that had her gasping. He did it again, running the hot, velvet heat of his tongue over her lower lip and then the top, curling inside her mouth before darting away. It was fascinating and intoxicating, and it sent shivers racing all over her body.
She tugged harder against his shirt, pressing her body against his, and then he was dipping his tongue inside, touching the tip to hers, and she was emboldened to do the same thing.
A hot flash of desire sparked as the tip of her tongue tentatively touched his. Shivers ran rampant over her flesh. How was it possible that kissing him could get better and better?
Her heart was pounding, her body trembling, and heat licked at places she didn’t even know could feel…let alone feel so good.
A throb started between her thighs, and she arched her back, wanting to be closer to him, wanting him to touch her.
At the same time, she was very aware of where they were and the other men not too far away. Toran’s hand slid from her face, his fingertips brushing over her neck to her collarbone, his palm flattening just above her breasts. She clamped her mouth closed to stifle both her gasp and her enthusiastic surrender.