that now enveloped her body. Her hips began to undulate of their own accord, but she helped them along by caressing the nubbin of flesh atop her slit harder.
She closed her eyes to better focus on the heat sweeping her body and the memories that fanned the warmth into a riot of flame, a flame that leaped from her woman’s flesh to her breasts and even to her lips, which she licked, then bit.
At the nip, lights glittered behind her closed lids and pleasure shot through her body. She rubbed her mound and her nipple. And the colors brightened until she was enveloped in heat, light and rainbows.
She arched her back and a little scream escaped her as her body writhed. Praying no one had heard her tiny cry of ecstasy, she clamped a hand over her mouth and curled into a tight ball.
As she relaxed, she stretched then lay quivering while she slid into sleep. Even the thought of Dugald’s kiss was unbearably arousing. So how would she feel if…
* * * * *
The lusty trio of Kilburns was unavoidable when the time came for her riding lesson, for Murdo and Blain accompanied her and Dugald. The men wore their usual midnight garb and boots, with Alice in her new riding habit and shod in her old black boots. Her serviceable black boots.
Dugald’s words rang in her ears. Use yer best efforts… Ye’re the best in Scotland. She straightened her shoulders and stiffened her back. Dugald Kilburn was a leader of men. He wasn’t wrong.
At the stable, the ostler led Mary forth, with the neat, small chestnut properly tacked out, sidesaddle and all.
Alice took a deep breath and approached the horse from the left side, as she’d been taught. She tightened her tummy muscles, willing herself to hold on to her nerves and her breakfast.
Mary swung her head around and fixed Alice with her unfathomable, dark gaze.
Alice’s knees buckled. A hand touched her elbow, took hold of her with a solid grip.
Dugald, of course.
Would she fail him?
Never.
She petted and stroked Mary’s mane, murmuring a quiet, “Hello.”
Mary snorted.
Alice jumped back and Murdo laughed. She ignored him, set her left hand onto Mary’s withers and lifted her left foot. After she nodded to Dugald, he bent, wrapped his hands around her lifted foot and helped her up into the saddle, with Alice belatedly remembering to jump a bit. She landed with an “oof”.
Dugald grabbed her ’round the waist so she wouldn’t topple over the horse’s right side. “Oof,” he muttered. “Of course.”
His touch burned through her clothes, but how was that possible? She remembered his hands and mouth as cool, not hot. Nevertheless a sizzling heat warmed her through her chemise, her stays, her petticoats. She pressed her lips together and struggled to regain her concentration, even though she was irresistibly reminded of the last time she’d oofed —while falling off her horsie made of blankets. At least with this grunt she was getting on, not slipping off.
Embarrassing, but the memory of that event did not draw her blushes as much as what had happened thereafter.
The kiss.
The declaration.
I’m your man.
His hand dropped away but the heat, the sizzle, remained. He stepped back.
The ostler handed her the reins and she turned her attention back to the matter at hand, adjusting her seat. She slid her foot into the slipper stirrup, settling herself facing forward, though with her legs twisted. Her ankle ached, though less than she’d dreaded.
She breathed deeply, allowing her stays to support her back. She found that she sat the horse more comfortably than she’d anticipated. Her breasts pressed against her new pink shift, quite the finest chemise she’d ever owned. Her nipples rubbed against the silk, a pleasant sensation.
She felt…good.
Dugald handed her a short whip and she took it in her right hand. “Well, Mary,” she said gaily. “Shall we?”
Chapter Five
“We’ll make for the Kilbirnies first.” Dugald rode beside her on a massive gray