Page 72 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

He gave her bud one last firm suck before pulling back, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. “Impatient, me Lady?”

Even the way he said it felt possessive, like a mild rebuke wrapped in affection.

Skye’s cheeks burned hotter, but she nodded.

Dougal shifted, one of his strong hands gripping her hips as he pushed not two fingers inside her but three. “Ye’re mine tonight,” he growled softly. “And I intend to take me time reminding ye of that.”

He started pumping them in and out, slowly at first.

Skye cried out, her hands clutching at the bed sheets as he used his fingers. Dougal set a hard, demanding rhythm, fucking her with deep, possessive movements. Every time he slowed, she squeezed him tightly.

He moved his fingers faster, wanton growls escaping him.

“Are ye trying to test me, love?” His voice came out in a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.

She shook her head, breathless. “Nay… I just?—”

He cut her off with a deep kiss, his thrusts growing faster and more intense. The pleasure inside her swelled until she shattered around him, crying out his name.

Afterward, he stayed over her for a long moment, breathing hard, before slowly sliding out of her and lying beside her. Skye gazed at him with soft, sated eyes.

“I hope ye have no intention of leaving in the middle of the night,” she whispered.

He pulled her against his chest, one thick arm wrapping around her waist like a band of iron. “I’m nae going anywhere,” he said, his tone final. “Ye’re mine now, Skye. I’ll be right here when ye wake up.”

“Good,” she murmured, smiling as she snuggled closer.

Dougal pressed a kiss to her forehead, his hand stroking slowly up and down her back. “Sleep now, love.”

She woke up gasping.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, panting softly until the throbbing in her sex ceased. She rolled over onto her side only after it had dulled enough for her to be able to sleep.

It was a miracle that sleep came to her at all.

She woke up to the faint chirping of birds and the bleating of a goat.

She paused. The bleating sounded far too close to be coming from outside. Grabbing her shawl, she wrapped it around her upper half and poked her head out the door.

Another bleat sounded.

“Shh, Goat! If ye keep making so much noise, ye’re going to wake up the entire castle,” Lily hissed. “Daenae ye understand that Da wants ye to stay outside?”

Skye covered her mouth, barely able to stifle her laughter.

Not wanting to spoil the girl’s fun, she quietly stepped back into her room. She didn’t hear the goat again and wondered if, by chance, Lily had managed to get the creature to quiet down. It seemed improbable, but she supposed that stranger things happened.

Once she closed the door, she burst into laughter.

Lily had bounced back quickly after what happened the other day. She was faring far better than her father, who kept looking at Skye as if she were going to crumble right before his eyes.

But Skye would not break.

Later, Skye spent some time with Kenna and Lily.

The sitting room had become something of a refuge, and Skye found herself in it, with Lily curled up against her side, Blossom purring in the girl’s lap, and the goat dozing near the hearth despite Dougal’s insistence that it remain outdoors.

“Ye’re quiet today,” Kenna observed, pausing her needlework. “In the time I’ve come to ken ye, it’s rare for ye nae to have something to say. I wouldnae say ye’re quite a chatterbox like Lily, but ye have never been quiet.”