His Bonnie Bride by Hannah Howell (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📕

was playing at being seductive and was not fully aware of how successful she was, thus making it all the more devastating. When she disappeared into the water he flung off the remainder of his clothes and went after her.

Like two children, they romped in the brisk waters of the stream. They splashed and chased each other, laughing and simply enjoying themselves. Just as Storm was beginning to think of going to shore, Tavis caught her tightly in his arms and kissed her, his feet the only ones touching bottom.

"Ye swim like the fishes, nymph," he growled as his lips traveled down her throat.

" 'Tis a skill my father taught all his children. Oh, Tavis," she groaned as his mouth reached her breasts.

"I have ne'er made love in the water," he mused as his mouth toyed with one hardened nipple.

"We should drown," she gasped as he gently suckled. "The stream is too rocky."

"Ye should ken by now, lass, that ye dinnae need to lie on your back. Wrap your arms around my neck and those lovely legs round my waist," he urged hoarsely, his need for her rapidly gaining strength.

They both gasped when he fitted them together. For a moment they stood still, kissing gently, then with an increasing passion. His hands on her hips, Tavis began to move her slowly, then faster and faster until their passion crested and they nearly collapsed into the water.

"We could have drowned," Storm said, trying not to blush as they sat wrapped in toweling on a blanket with the food spread out around them. " 'Tis a bit chill. I should get dressed."

"Nay," Tavis said softly as he handed her a glass. "Drink this. 'Twill warm ye." He touched her drying hair as she sipped the whiskey. "The sun will soon dry ye and the chill will pass."

The whiskey warmed her even as she drank it. They ate heartily, occasionally feeding each other and laughing when they fumbled. A combination of freedom, even if transitory and perhaps illusionary, and whiskey made for very high spirits. Tavis lay back with his arms crossed behind his head when the meal was done, enjoying the sun and watching Storm clear away the food.

Storm sipped her whiskey as she sat by his side and looked at him. She wondered idly why he did not look silly lying there with nothing but a cloth wrapped around his waist. What he did look like was a man she very much wanted to make love to. She wanted to run her hands over every taut inch of his lean body. Thoughtfully, she took another sip of whiskey and wondered if she dared. It was not the sort of thing a lady should do, but then, neither did a lady sit about in so little sipping whiskey with an equally undressed man, she mused.

Blushing slightly, she recalled the only other time she had taken the initiative. He certainly had seemed to appreciate it.

Storm then recalled what Lady Mary had done to Sir Hugh. Just because they did something did not make it wrong, for they had made love the same way she and Tavis did. It was simply their attitude that made it sordid. Thinking of how her caresses had so obviously pleased him that time, Storm began to wonder if that further intimacy would also please. If there was one thing Lady Mary knew, it was how to please a man. Storm felt decidedly curious. She also felt that if it was something a man liked, then she ought to do it for Tavis, the man she loved.

Tavis opened his eyes, meeting her warm, considering gaze. He recognized that still look on her face as the one she wore when she was mulling over something. As his gaze drifted over her from the gentle swell of her breasts above the cloth to her slim thighs, he decided he would ask her what she was thinking about later. Reaching up, he loosed her cloth and it fell to her hips, gathering there to give her a rather precarious modesty.

"Ye are one lovely woman, Storm," he said softly, his eyes lifting to see the color tint her cheeks. "Why so modest? Ye are beautiful and 'tis a pleasure to look at ye. I like to look at ye."

"Do ye, Tavis?" she asked softly, her hand moving to caress his chest. "What else do ye like? This?"

"Aye," he murmured as her lips and her tongue played over his mouth before she kissed him slowly.

" 'Tis hard for a woman to know what pleasures a man," Storm said musingly as she trailed kisses down to his chest. "A man learns as he grows from women he pays for or from women who have lovers to teach them. We young ladies are ne'er taught nor told a thing. How are we to know if a man likes this?" she asked huskily as her tongue played over his nipples before her mouth fastened upon one.

His hands ploughed into her thick hair as he rasped, "I cannae speak for other men but 'tis verra fine."

She moved to kneel between his strong thighs, her covering slipping off to lie unheeded on the blanket. Her tongue traced patterns down to the edge of the cloth that still encircled his hips, patterns that her kisses retraced. Every inch of his strong legs were explored by her hands, slowly and lovingly.

"And what is this, Tavis?" she whispered as her lips continued their play over his taut stomach just above the cloth's edge and she felt his hands tighten in her hair.

"A tease, m'eudail," he groaned.

Ever since the MacDubhs had visited, Tavis had thought of the magic Storm could perform with her lovely mouth and intoxicating tongue. It occurred to him that Storm was often on his mind, but he put that down to her natural expertise as a lover. The way she could pleasure a man ensured that she would be well remembered. He would not be able to forget