Sixteen
William awoke with a start, something cold hitting his nose. And then his cheeks. And lips. And forehead. He swiped a hand across his face, his stiff body protesting the movement. Opening his eyes, he rubbed his freezing, wet fingertips together. It was snowing. The realization had him on his feet and out of his shelter in a breath. But with one step forward, he tripped over Hella, who was sitting right in front of his shelter, barely visible in the night with her coat that matched the snow. She stirred, lifting her head, her eyes seeming to glisten like steel as she looked at him.
“Were ye standing guard for me?” he asked, shaking his head. Dogs, even one as smart as Hella obviously was, could not understand him. As if she had heard his thoughts, Hella sprang to her feet and jumped up to put her front paws on his chest. After he gave her a quick pat, she got down and, turning, strode straight over to another shelter. Ada had to be in that one because Freya lay outside of it, but when Hella reached her, Freya rose and both hounds started to whine.
“Shh, ye daft dogs,” he ordered, closing the distance between his shelter and Ada’s. As he strode across the space, he noted the fire was dead, and a quick glance toward the other two shelters in the distance confirmed what he had suspected would happen. Grant was sitting up, legs crossed in front of him and arms crossed over his chest. The man was asleep against a tree beside the shelter that must have housed Marjorie.
William hesitated outside Ada’s shelter when he saw that her gown had been hung over the two closest tree limbs he’d driven into the ground. It was serving as a makeshift door. If her gown was hanging there, though, that meant she was inside in only her léine. The mere thought of her clothed in only her undergarments stirred his lust. He inhaled a long, slow breath, battling the desire back, and then he looked between Hella and Freya. “I’m only going in to ensure she’s nae freezing.” Even as the dogs both seemed to answer him with a lick to his hand and a nuzzle against his leg, he had to chuckle at his inability to stop talking to the hounds.
He shoved back the gown, which had chunks of ice clinging to the material. The light from the moon was mostly blocked by the branches fastened above the shelter, which made it too dark to really make out Ada’s form until he kneeled beside her, and his heart jerked.
The top curve of one bare, delicate shoulder peeked out from the blanket she’d wrapped around herself, but other than that, all he could see was her nose, eyes, and forehead. The strip of cloth she’d tied there was gone, and her glorious hair fanned around her. And then he realized she was trembling badly, and her teeth were chattering.
“Ada?” he whispered, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep.
She stirred, turning from her side onto her back. In the moonlight, she looked as white as the snow falling from the sky. “Aye?” she managed through her clacking teeth.
Worry overcame him, and he set a hand to her forehead, thinking mayhap she’d caught fever. “Ye’re freezing,” he said, relieved.
He must have sounded it, too, because she said, “Th-th-that is a verra odd thing to b-be glad about.” She paused, shivering uncontrollably. “Wh-what are ye doing in here? I k-k-ken ye dunnae wish to be anywhere near me.”
Even with all the stuttering, he could discern the hurt in her voice. But he did want to be here with her. Too much. And that was the main problem as he saw it. So instead of addressing the truth of the matter, he assessed her and made a decision. She needed him to keep warm this night, so she didn’t truly get a chill and then a fever, and it was his duty as her husband to protect her. He would have to simply restrain himself.
“Open up the blanket for me,” he said, praying she’d not demand he answer her question.
“What for?” she said, suspicion in her tone.
He found the edge of the blanket in the dark and tugged it out of her grasp.
“Oh!” she gasped. He suspected the freezing night air had hit her skin. “Why did ye do that, ye big Scottish beast?”
Somehow her insults did not bother him in the least. “Because,” he replied, pulling the blanket all the way back on one side and down on the other so he could lie on it facing her and then wrap them both in it. “I need to do this.” He made quick work of situating himself, rewrapping them both in the blanket, and then pulling her body flush against his so that her cheek was pressed against his bare chest, her hair tickling his nose, and her breasts—ah, God above, her breasts had been created to tempt a man to ruination—were also snug against his skin. Through the thin material of her léine, he could feel that her buds had hardened into twin peaks.
“Dunnae move,” he growled huskily, his control feeling as taut as a bow about to be shot.
“Oh,” she moaned, squirming against him, “but ye are like a fire!”
“Ada, hold still,” he bit out, the friction of her nipples rubbing against his chest, making desire explode within him.
She did still, for one breath, and one of her hands pressed against his chest while she shoved the other between his thighs, perilously close to his bollocks. He instantly became hyper aware of her hand so close to his shaft. He hardened, and she gasped. “Oh! Should I move?”
Good God, no. “Aye,” he croaked, his blood rushing through his veins so loud that his ears rang.
“Is my hand too cold? It’s just ye are so verra warm.” She wiggled her fingers, and they brushed his bollocks.
A groan of need ripped from his throat, and before he could stop himself, he had skimmed his hand over her hip to her backside and pressed her more firmly against him, against his shaft. And when she sighed a sound of distinct pleasure, his control snapped.
William’s mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was ravenous, possessive, desperate. The heady sensation shot from her mouth directly to her heart. He sucked and tugged on her lips while his hands divested her of her léine and himself of his clothing, but she didn’t mind. In fact, her own desperation was stirring. At first, she had thought only to tease him because while she knew he may not want her heart, it was obvious that in this moment he desired her. But her attempt to tease him awakened her own lustful yearning to repeat what William had introduced her to the day they had wed.
He set her mouth aflame sliding his tongue along hers, and then he torched her neck with fiery kisses that led straight to her—ah! She raked her nails across his back as his mouth suckled her breast in long, maddeningly magical pulls. And when he flicked her sensitive, swollen bud with his tongue, she wanted to scream with pleasure, but somehow she managed to contain it. His touch was light and painfully teasing, causing a throbbing sensation deep in her belly and between her legs.
“I love yer breasts,” he murmured, cupping them both to kiss one and then the other. “But I especially love yer perfect nipples.” He took one in his mouth for a long suckle, making her arch against him, and then the other, which made her grasp his thick hair and tug at him.
“I want ye,” she said, breathless and not caring how she sounded.
“Do ye?” His tone was slightly proud and definitely possessive. “Do ye want me more if I do this?” Suddenly, he parted her at her core and his fingers pressed gently to her sensitive spot.
“Aye,” she gasped, feeling nearly mindless.
