Page 76 of Fire in his Highland Heart

Blake continued to lick and suck until her legs stopped shaking and the tremors of her orgasm ceased to wrack her body. After a few moments, he withdrew his fingers, kissed her inner thighs, and rested his head on her knee. Arguen was still panting and breathless.

He smiled, pleased with himself, and pulled her skirts back down so she was covered again. “I will never tire of bringin’ ye pleasure like that,” he said, resting his head on her knee and looking up at her. She was such a sight to behold. Her cap had fallen off, and now he could see her silver hair in its braided bun, a little messy now from their activities. Her ample bosom heaved, a pretty sight since her bodice was still slightly undone and allowed her breasts more freedom.

“Mayhap ‘tis yer turn tae find some pleasure now,” she said cheekily, after she was able to catch her breath.

Blake rose and sat on the chaise as Arguen shifted and straddled him, palming the bulge in his breeches. “Did that make ye want me?” she asked.

He grunted in pleasure and shifted himself so she could feel more of him. “I always want ye,” he said softly. “I think about ye, at the most inopportune times.”

“Oh?” she asked, grinding against him.

He grunted again, and held her hips. “Aye, all the time. I want tae take ye in every room at Ernmore,” he said breathlessly.

Arguen smiled and kissed his neck. “An’ when we’re married, ye may have me all the ways ye please.”

He groaned, pulling her hips closer to him. “Can’t I just have ye now?” he asked, almost in a whining tone.

“Ye want me that badly?” she asked, grinding hard against him. The sensation sent pleasant shivers down his spine.

“Aye, for Christ’s sake, aye,” he said.

Arguen’s dextrous hands worked quickly to unbutton his breeches and free his cock. She gave it a few tugs with her hand before settling herself on top with him nestled comfortably inside. She began to move up and down ever so slowly. As she felt the pleasant fullness, she started to move more quickly.

Soon, his hips began to buck, eventually matching hers in their rhythm, and her breath turned to short pants. She moaned loudly as she felt that familiar coil in the pit of her belly tighten.

“Christ, woman, I love ye so much,” he groaned against her mouth, as she continued to bounce on his cock. Suddenly, the coil in her belly snapped, and the tension that had built up was released in one glorious moment. She cried out, her rhythm slowing down as her orgasm washed over her body in waves. Blake’s hands held her waist for more stability as he bucked his hips, riding out her climax with her. When her pleasure had subsided, she slowly rolled her hips against his again. He was red-faced and huffing as he approached his own climax, and Arguen smiled devilishly at him as he squeezed his eyes shut and grunted, spilling himself inside of her.

When he was finished, he withdrew himself, breathed a hefty sigh, and rested his head on her bosom once more.

“I canna wait tae be husband and wife, and tae greet our babe. It makes all the bad in the world disappear, leaving only the good,” he whispered.

“An’ I’m ever so thankful for ye. Ye saved me in more ways than one,” she replied.

“We saved each other,” he murmured against the soft skin of her neck.

And it was true. They had overcome all sorts of obstacles together, and now only the best part of their lives together lay ahead.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

October soon melted into November, and the weather grew colder with it. But Arguen and Blake cared not--they were too consumed with the warmth of their love for each other.

Since Blake was not yet divorced from Cataline, an official ceremony was not possible. They would have to wait for the divorce to reach the high court in England before they could have a real ceremony. That little fact irked both of them a fair bit, but their happiness and the prospect of being together more than made up for it. Malcolm and Douglas had already sent word to King James II, but for the moment, they would proceed with a handfasting ceremony in the great hall at Bruckstone.

Arguen awoke the day of the ceremony feeling nervous, of course, but more excited than anything. There was a twinge of sorrow there as well--she wished her mother had been alive to witness it. She consoled herself with the fact that her mother was likely watching from the heavens, perched on a star or the crest of the moon.

She did not have much in the way of a dowry, or really any finery of her own. Malcolm had offered some of Cataline’s gowns, but Arguen shuddered at the thought of committing herself to Blake while wearing the clothes of his former wife. She was not an incredibly superstitious woman, but the thought did not bode well with her. Instead, she found what she could with the old clothes she had here, and chose the finest among them. This included a light blue bodice with puffed sleeves, and a lower cut neckline that matched a cream colored overskirt. It was the one fine thing she owned for special occasions, and this was the most special occasion of them all.

It was a bit lonely, getting ready all by herself, but as she had few friends at Bruckstone, she had to be content. Blake had promised a proper Christian ceremony and feast to follow back at Ernmore. This small ceremony would be to simply solidify their commitment to each other.

Arguen took special care when dressing herself that evening. Her white wool stockings went on first, held up by blue ribbons as garters. Her shoes, a pair of white heeled slippers that had seen better days, (but were still her finest) followed. She had on her best shift with a ruffled neckline, and over that went her stays. She had learned long ago to tie them herself. Now, after tonight, she would have someone to help her each time, if she wished. Next came her regular petticoat, and the cream overskirt went on, tied about the waist. Lastly, the crowning piece, the blue bodice, went on. Arguen pinned it to her stays to keep it in place, and sighed pleasantly as she looked in the full-length glass that Cataline had put in the former drawing room. She had slept with rags in her silver hair to curl it the night before, and now, she sat down in a chair facing the glass to take them all out. It looked...beautiful, and she was stunned. She had always hated her hair, but the white and blue of her gown made it look ethereal. She only hoped Blake thought the same. She piled those curls on top of her head in a neat updo, leaving a couple of tendrils down to frame her face. Very appropriate for a bride, she thought.

Suddenly a knock sounded at her door. She hoped it wasn’t Blake. Even though it was not an official wedding ceremony, she still believed it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before it began. She carefully arose and tiptoed across the room to the door, her heels making fine little clacking sounds.

When she opened the door just a crack, she was surprised to see her brother Douglas standing there.

“Goodness,” he said, giving her an approving look.

“I look good?” she asked, letting him in.