He drew closer, unable to resist combing his fingers into the silk of her unbound hair. A mesmerizing river of gold, it tumbled across her shoulders and down her back.
“I never dreamt such happiness could ever be mine,” he whispered, truly amazed that his life had come to this.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch while sliding a hand up his chest. “Our lives will be rich with love and laughter.”
If she only knew what a rare and precious thing that was. He bent his head and took her mouth, groaning at the supple sweetness of her lips. Never would he get enough of her. “Ye are my heart and soul, my own. Forevermore.”
She kissed him back with a fervor that both inflamed and alarmed him. What a passionate woman he had married. Heaven give him the strength to do what needed to be done to keep her safe, and if she discovered his intentions, heaven help her forgive him.
Gently tugging at his jacket, she eased a step back. “Do not think me wanton, but might you remove a few things? I do not wish to hurt your arm.” Then she bit her lip. “What my sisters described seems like it could cause you pain. After all, it’s only been a little over a week since you were shot. Should we wait until you are fully healed?”
Gads alive, what all had her sisters told her? Doing his best not to flinch at the dull ache in his arm as he removed his jacket, waistcoat, and stock, he chose his words carefully regarding the consummation of their vows. “Accommodations can be made to ensure all is well.” His arm was the least of his worries at the moment. The wants and needs of his aching man-parts were first and foremost in his mind—and keeping her safe from getting a bairn.
Her delicate scent of lilacs wafted all around him, making his mouth water and driving him to bury himself inside her and never leave. The way her thin, lacy shift outlined her curves teased the lusty beast within him. He itched to tear it away, then drop to his knees and worship her the way she deserved.
With every layer of his clothing that he shed, her eyes went even wider. The soft golden light of the single oil lamp lent her an almost ethereal glow. She plucked at the shoulder of her chemise and untied the ribbon closing its neckline.
After removing his boots and stockings, he rid himself of his kilt and draped it over a nearby chair.
“Uhm…” she said, almost making it sound like the purring of a kitten.
“It will be all right, lass.” He sauntered closer. “I swore to always protect ye, remember?”
“You are so…” She didn’t finish that sentence either and appeared to be struggling not to stare below his waist.
Lore a’mighty, the way she looked at him nearly caused him to spill himself before he’d ever touched her.
With a flick of her fingers, her shift fell to the floor and puddled around her feet. The sight of her standing there, a lilac-scented golden goddess, made him groan.
Then she rushed into his arms and molded herself against him, pulling him down for a kiss. He tightened his embrace. To hell with his arm. He needed the velvety delight of her flesh against his. Cupping her fine, round buttocks, he pulled her closer. Hellfire and damnation, his plan to keep her from getting with child was going to be an almost insurmountable chore. But he would do it. He had sworn to keep her safe.
The most delightful noises, little, yearning moans and gasps, escaped from her as he nibbled and kissed his way along her throat, across her collarbone, then tasted each of her lovely breasts. As he worked his way lower still, trailing his fingertips ahead of his kisses, she arched into him and tangled her fingers in his hair, clutching fistfuls and crying out as he sampled where no man had ever touched her before.
When her knees buckled, he lowered her back across the bed. The way she fisted her hands in the bedclothes roared through him with an urgency to take her. But not yet. He wanted to make her ready, pleasure her until she was too limp and sated to notice how their lovemaking ended.
With her legs draped over his shoulders, he reveled in her with his fingers and tongue, adoring her until she bucked and shuddered, crying out her pleasure. Then he kissed his way back up her body, trailing his touch along the supple length of her, memorizing every dipand curve, cherishing every part of her.
“My own,” he said softly, nuzzling the warm, salty sweetness where her neck met her shoulder. “I love ye with a fury I have never known.”
Hugging her legs around his hips, she arched up to meet him. “Take me, my champion. Make me fully yours.”
He braced his legs against the side of the bed to keep from collapsing where he stood. This way would serve them best, not only because of his arm but so he could withdraw before it was too late. “I dinna wish to hurt ye,” he said as she stretched to hug him closer.
“I am not a hothouse lily, remember?” Even in the shadows, daring and a hunger for life danced in her eyes. “I am lilacs and heather. We brave anything.” She touched his cheek and teased her thumb along his bottom lip. “And my sisters said it’s just a little sting that is well worth it.” She pressed up against him again. “I ache for you. Take me.”
A deep, rumbling groan worked free of him as he eased into her. Gads alive, she was so feckin’ tight. Struggling for control, he went deeper, then completed their joining with a quick thrust.
She gasped, and her eyes flared wide again, then she smiled. “Now, I am yours.”
“Mine,” he growled as he withdrew and thrust into her hot, wet depths again. As easily and wonderfully as they had fit together when they danced, she immediately matched this rhythm, meeting him thrust for thrust.
He had to hold out a little longer. If he could just last until she found her pleasure again… Instinct told him that if he withdrew before then, there would be hell to pay with explanations.
And then she moaned, shuddering as she crested once again, pulling at him, enticing him to bury himself as deep as he could and fill her until she could hold no more. She clutched at him, crying out as wave after wave of ecstasy shook through her.
Thank the heavens, because he didn’t think he could hold outmuch longer. After another long, hard stroke that took him to the precipice, he yanked himself out just in time to spill his seed on the floor. Leaning hard against the bed, he groaned as he emptied. Only after he caught his breath and his reeling senses calmed did he notice that his beloved wife had gone entirely too still.
“Why did you do that?” Her tone rang with so many dangerous emotions: indignation, hurt, accusation.
