There was a moment where it felt she’d been stretched too far, yet it was too fleeting a moment to be called pain and it was lost in the rapturous sensations pulsing through her. He groaned as his shaft went all the way in and she raised her hips as he filled her, wordlessly urging him on.
Then he was kissing her again, his tongue echoing the thrust of his shaft, pleasuring her, stealing her breath, taking her to some place among the stars where there was no world but Edmund, and the intense rapture of her feelings she was experiencing.
She was bound to him in bliss, euphoria, flying beyond everything she’d ever known, and he flew with her into that same distant place. She cried his name over and over as the moment took her. His answering roar and her name on his tongue was all the assurance she would ever need.
As their breathing settled and their ragged heartbeats returned to normal, they lay tangled in the covers. His arms locked around her, her head on his shoulder, her hair a mass of tangles around her, his hand idly toying with her, brushing her hair from her forehead, gently touching her arm across his broad chest.
Lying there next to Edmund, her father was nothing more than a distant dark speck on her horizon as she drifted into a dreamless sleep, her body still thrumming with the pleasure she’d found with the man she loved.
Holding Annora in his arms, Edmund was assailed by see-sawing emotions. Part of him held a deep guilt. He knew that, while it had been the blissful culmination of his dreams and sleepless nights, making love to Annora was wrong. He should have resisted their passion for what they had done could place her in terrible jeopardy.
He closed his eyes but no matter how ardently he wished for it, no matter how much he counted in his head, sleep proved elusive. Lying there, listening to Annora’s soft breathing, only made him even more worried.
He slipped his arm from under her and she stirred but did not wake. He donned his britches and pulled on his boots, grabbed his shirt and woolen cloak and tiptoed to the door, praying she would not wake to find him gone.
He took the stairs to the battlement, nodding to the guards as he passed them. Seeking answers to his questions he gazed into the black velvet sky with its canopy of twinkling stars. His tangled thoughts began to make some sense. Breathing the crisp, cold air, smelling the salty tang from the sea, his heart swelled and things became clear, his path opening up before him.
Cheered, he descended again and followed the passageway leading to Lionel MacLaren’s bedchamber. Impatient, unable to wait until the morning, he wished to share his thoughts with his friend and advisor.
Finding his way along the darkened passage he eventually arrived at Lionel’s door. He rapped, gently at first, not wishing to alert others to his presence here, but there was no answer. He knocked again, louder this time, and waited. Still no response. After trying a third time, he was almost ready to give up when he heard the door creak open.
“Who goes?” came a sleepy voice, tinged with annoyance.
Edmund pushed the door open and slipped inside.
“What in the devil’s name are ye daeing here? Can ye nae let a poor body sleep?”
Edmund pshawed. “Ye’re a warrior, used tae sleeping little.”
Lionel, wrapped in a fur coverlet, growled his response and followed Edmund across the room.
“If ye insist, sit there, liven up the fire, while I put on a tunic.”
After stoking the embers of the fire and placing another log on the hearth Edmund took a seat. Moments later he was joined by Lionel, who wasted no time pouring them each a dram and passing one to Edmund.
He took the seat beside his friend, now wide awake despite the lateness of the hour.
“What ails ye, friend?”
“I’ve made decisions taenight. I’d like ye tae hear me out.”
“If ‘tis the lairdship ye’re talking of, ‘tis well past time fer making a decision. Tormod and the others will soon be losing patience.”
“Aye. I wish tae take the position they are offering. I’ve come tae understand me faither’s wishes. I’ve learned much about meself and how I came tae be at Dùn Ara all those years ago. I ken now that the lairdship is rightfully mine and that me faither, Laird Baldur, always meant it tae be fer me.”
“When will ye tell Tormod of yer decision?”
“After the feast that’s planned fer taenight. I will ask him tae summon the Council so I am able tae announce me decision.”
“Well done, lad.” Lionel swilled the last of his whisky and got to his feet. “Once ‘tis announced that ye’re tae be laird, there’ll be nae reason fer us tae mention what we discovered in MacDonald’s chamber. He’ll be of nay account then.
Edmund shook his head. “Nay, lad there’s more.”
Lionel retook his seat, tilting his head in puzzlement.
“’Tis the Lady Annora.”
Lionel poured another splash of whisky for them both. “Och. Ye’ve still tae take her beyond her faither’s clutches. How will ye explain that tae Tormod and the others?”
