“I’m going to worship ye,” he said, his voice low, tight.
Isabel nodded, because she couldn’t find the words, and even if she had them, she was pretty certain her ability to speak had been taken away.
Lachlan slowly pressed her knees apart, skimming his palms up her thighs until her skirts were at her hips, and then he dipped his head between her thighs. Heat touched her core as he kissed her, and Isabel grabbed hold of his shoulders, bucking forward. Was this… Did people…
But again, she was at a loss for words, and Lachlan pressed a hand to her chest and pressed until she collapsed onto the bed. He put one leg over each of his shoulders, and spread her wider, his tongue devouring her just as she’d unknowingly asked.
Isabel collapsed into a puddle of pleasure, sounds escaping her throat she didn’t know she could make. With every stroke, she lost more of her sense, at the same time her body ignited into nothing but sensation. The pure heat of his tongue, his lips, left her body bowing, seeking more and more, until she reached the precipice of a cliff, and dove off into rapture. Every inch of her shook as she cried out her release, her fingers curling into the coverlet, her knees pressing to Lachlan’s temples.
When she finally came down enough to blink open her eyes, Lachlan stood before her, undressing, revealing inch after inch of his magnificently muscled body. Between his hips, his arousal stood hard, thick, and an urge to taste him took hold. She pushed herself up to sitting, then stood, her hands stroking over his belly, his hips as she turned him, and he let her. Then she gently shoved him to the bed.
Lachlan’s eyes widened in surprise as she took up his previous stance and knelt before him.
She didn’t ask before she pressed her lips to the tip of his manhood but instead let instinct take hold as she kissed him, licked him, took him into her mouth. The guttural moan in the back of his throat, his fingers threading into her hair, told her she was doing it right. But just when she thought she’d found the rhythm of it, he bid her stop.
“No more,” he croaked. “Or else, I’ll no’ be able to finish with ye.”
Isabel cocked her head, her lips swollen, confused. But she didn’t have time to ponder as he pressed his lips to hers in a feral kiss that swept away all thought. Lachlan’s fingers fumbled with her gown until the air kissed her skin, his lips wrapped around one nipple and then the other. And then he was pulling her down onto the bed with him. The heat of their skin touching sent shivers of pleasure over her as he slid his body along hers. He rolled on top of her, and instinctively she wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, and kissed him with everything she had.
Half a breath later, their bodies were one as he drove deep inside her, the both of them crying out in pleasure at their joining. Lachlan thrust slow and steady, then harder, faster, then slower, teasing her and building up a delicious pressure inside her body. He rolled to his back, pulling her with him, so she straddled him.
“Ride me, love,” he demanded.
At first, she wasn’t quite sure, but with his hands on her hips, she rocked back and forth. Then up and down, until she found a rhythm that took on a mind of its own. She cried out in shock and pleasure as a climax seized her, riding him faster, as wave after wave of pleasure careened through her limbs.
Lachlan’s fingers dug into her hips, and he bucked upward, thrusting deep as his own release conquered his body. When the ripples of pleasure subsided, Isabel collapsed on top of her husband, breathing in his heady scent. If only they could remain abed forever in this one blissful moment, making love forever and ever.
“Ye’re everything I ever secretly dreamed of,” he said, stroking the dip in her lower back.
“What is it that ye secretly dreamed of?” Isabel grinned, pressing her palm to his chest and feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath.
“A woman with heart, but also strength. With intelligence and cunning, but also empathy for others. A woman who could stab a man one moment and make love tenderly the next. She seemed like a far-off mirage, a fantasy. And then ye demanded I no’ die, and ye admonished me as ye healed me.”
“And I had no problem stabbing a man.”
“Aye,” he grinned. “I rather liked witnessing that.”
“And making love… I never knew it could be this way. That it would be so full of pleasure.” Heat suffused her cheeks as she said the word, as images of what they’d just done played gleefully in her mind.
“Perhaps I should show ye again.” Lachlan rolled her onto her back, his elbows holding up his weight on either side of her shoulders.
“Aye, I think ye must,” she nodded, serious. “I dinna want to forget.”
“Och, lass, ye’ll never forget, I swear it. As long as I’ve breath in my body, ye will know daily what making love is like.”
“I love ye, Wolf of Skye.”
“And I ye, my wolfess.” He nuzzled her neck, biting gently at the crook, until she squealed in delight.
The world outside their bedchamber might have been full of dangers and strife, but for now, behind the closed door, nestled in their love nest, Lachlan and Isabel could forget for at least a few hours, that anything was amiss.
Bliss had a way of erasing pain and laying the ground for hope.
EPILOGUE
No story ever truly has an end. And neither do schemes.
Defeat was only a setback. A lesson learned. And by the saints, he had learned. Learned exactly what he needed to do. Where to go from here.
