The Highlander's Time

against her lover’s side during the barely-broke-a-sweat afterglow.
    With Iaen, she felt like a veritable virgin.
    He was raw passion.
    Dominating.
    All encompassing.
    She was the half of the whole who didn't hold to either great expectations or lofty aspirations. “Iaen, I'm not any good at sex.”
    It was what a few of her boyfriends had admitted to after long, tense minutes of prodding. They, her exes, always professed to care about her like they did a sister or a close friend. When it came down to fucking, she wasn't the cat's meow. Hell, the cat didn't even purr. In her former lovers’ lives, she was no better than a stupid, plasticine blow-up doll.
    “Lass, be still and calm thyself. I willnae hurt you,” he said from where he sat on the edge of the mattress. Instead of brushing her cheek against his calloused palm still cupping her face, she bowed away and nearly banged her forehead on his shoulder. That’s how close he was to her.
    Yes, you will. You just don't know it yet . Her faith, like her hopes to find a permanent love interest, had dipped that low. She didn't know if she could handle another huge disaster after everything that had happened today.
    Okay, look to the bright side. There has to be a silver lining in this nightmare .
    Try as she might, she came up empty. She couldn't make the language barrier count, because she'd still see the disappointment on his handsome face. Her hands came up to ward him off when he leaned closer. The sensible part of her told her to run as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Her traitorous body had other ideas.
    Winding her arms around his shoulders, a delicious bubble of warmth sparked in the pit of her belly. A tremor tripped up her thighs. The heat radiating off his body soaked through her thin nightgown to melt her bones. He pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.
    It was a deep, drowning kiss, the kind that swept away all awareness of everything else but his warm lips pressed against hers, his tongue teasing hers, his arms holding her tightly against him. He cradled her head in his hand. The other was on her back, melding her less than stellar curves to his chest as he feathered kisses along her jaw. Desire rose in her, filling her with a decadent tension, overwhelming her fear-inducing past experiences and all her inhibitions.
    She slid her hands over the cloth-covered roped muscles of his shoulders to grip his arms, pulling him closer still, pressing to him, and relishing the play of his fluid moves when he laid her down on the bed. Reclining beside him, she reveled in the feel of his erection, hot and hard against her thigh.
    His mouth moved lower, painting a row of gentle kisses down her throat and along the neckline of her nightgown. Leaning his weight on his arm, he captured her attention with his blazing blue stare. His fingers tugged open the satin bow at the collar.
    A shiver raked down her spine and raised goosebumps on her arms. His mouth followed his fingers down the front of her gown and cool air rushed across her feverish skin. A spurt of uncertainty asserted itself. “I can't do this.”
    “Easy, lass.” His voice was thick with desire.
    A tiny, nagging voice chided her for thinking she could take on a man of Iaen's attitude, but she pushed it aside. When he eased the neckline down to expose her breasts, she shook with a fresh tremor of lust.
    “ Yes ,” she said on a sharp intake of air. The tension grew as his tongue swept over her nipple. She closed her eyes and sagged back into the softness of the bed.
    He transferred his attention to her other breast, each movement of his mouth sent cascading waves of arousal through her.
    Keeping a steady hand on her waist, he rose to his impressive height. Her breath caught in her throat when he pulled off his plaid, then unbelted his tunic. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God . She watched him raise his tunic over his head.
    The display of defined muscle about sent her running for the door. “You deserve better,” she thought out loud. He caught her before she'd made it two steps across the stone floor.
    He held her firmly to him, kissing her shoulder, letting the fear subside as he drew her back into the passionate haze swirling around them. Tangled in the voluminous cloth of the nightgown, she was at his mercy and caving to the desire with each brush of his lips.
    The words he spoke against her hair were lost beneath the myriad of sensations assaulting her. His erection throbbed