Page 93 of The Laird’s Sinful Secret

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The bedroom door closed with a finality that made Moyra’s pulse stutter.

She stood just inside their chambers hyperaware of the massive bed dominating the space, the fire crackling in the hearth, the way dawn light spilled through windows overlooking the sea. Outside, the castle buzzed with preparations for battle. Inside, silence stretched between them, heavy with anticipation.

“I need tae leave within the hour.” Euan’s voice came rough as he moved to the weapons rack, checking his sword. “The ships—we cannae let them reach shore. If Keith’s forces land, they’ll burn everything between here and the coast.”

“I ken that.” She watched his hands work. Even preparing for war, the man was devastatingly handsome. “Ye dinnae need tae explain military strategy tae me.”

“Nay, but I need ye tae understand—” He stopped, turning to face her fully. “I’m riding intae battle that I might nae return from. And I need tae have this moment with ye. Before everything falls apart.”

She reached for him, her wedding gown whispering against stone floors.

One moment he was standing rigid. The next, his mouth crashed against hers with desperate hunger, his hands finding her waist and pulling her flush against armor-plated chest. The kiss was consuming—all the tension and want exploding between them.

Moyra’s fingers found the buckles of his armor, working them with urgent efficiency. She needed the barriers gone. Needed to feel him without leather and steel between them.

Euan’s hands moved to help her, his breathing harsh as armor clattered to the floor piece by piece. When his chest was finally bare, she traced the scars she’d memorized—the brutal map of violence carved into his skin.

“Christ, Moyra. If ye keep touching me like that, this will be over before it starts.”

“Then maybe ye should touch me back.” Challenge colored her tone despite how her pulse raced.

His answering growl made her toes curl. His hands found the laces of her wedding gown, working them with the same dexterity he’d shown before. Fabric loosened, sliding from her shoulders in a whisper of silk.

“Beautiful.” The word came out reverent as his gaze traveled over her. “So bloody beautiful.”

“Ye’re nae exactly hard on the eyes yerself.” She reached for the ties of his breeches. “Though I prefer ye with fewer clothes.”

He caught her hands, stilling them. “I willnae be gentle—nae this time. Nae when I’m about tae ride off tae war.”

“I’m counting on it.” She pulled him toward the bed. “Show me, Euan. Show me what it means tae be yers before ye leave.”

Euan had made love to her before—slowly, carefully, treating her like something precious that might break.

This wasn’t that.

This was desperation and hunger and the primal need to claim what was his before fate tried to take it away. He put her down on the bed, his mouth hot and demanding on hers, his hands mapping her body with possessive intensity.

“Euan—” His name came out breathless as his mouth traced her throat, his teeth grazing skin that made her arch beneath him.

“Tell me if it’s too much. Tell me tae stop.”

“Dinnae ye dare stop.” Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer. “I want all of ye. Everything ye’ve been holding back.”

He groaned and surrendered to the need consuming them both. When he finally pushed inside her, they both gasped—the sensation intense, more raw, more real. He set a rhythm that was hard and fast and almost brutal, and she met him thrust for thrust, her nails scoring his scarred back as pleasure built like a storm.

“Mine,” he growled against her throat. “Ye’re mine, Moyra. Me wife. Me⁠—”

“Aye.” She pulled him closer, her mouth finding his. “Yers. Always yers.”

His pace turned almost frantic, his control fracturing as he drove into her with desperate intensity. She felt her own release building, pressure coiling tight at her core, and then⁠—

She shattered, crying his name, her body clenching around his. The sensation dragged him over the edge after her, his shout muffled against her shoulder as he followed her into bliss.

Euan collapsed half on top of her, breathing hard. He moved to shift his weight away, but Moyra’s arms tightened around him.

“Stay.” Her voice came soft, sated. “Just... stay a moment longer.”