Page 89
“Marry me. Tomorrow.”
Her lips, slightly parted and glistening from his kiss, were too tempting. He gave in, just one small touch of his lips.
“But how—”
“Father Simon has agreed to say the vows. But if you would rather wait—”
“Nay.”
His heart skipped a beat.
“That is to say, nay I do not wish to wait. Tomorrow is a fine day for a wedding.”
The look in her eyes told him she was no longer afraid. He’d never felt happier than he did at this moment.
“If we are to marry tomorrow,” she asked, “does that mean we will wait until tomorrow night to—”
He’d pushed her legs apart with his knees. But just in case that wasn’t enough of an answer, he guided himself to her, entering just enough to give her the answer she sought.
“It will hurt, but not for long. Or so I am told.”
Just a bit deeper . . . “How is that?”
Clarissa gripped his shoulders. “It is . . . different than your fingers.”
He laughed, both at her words and at her bemused expression.
“I should hope so, lass.”
He’d reached the barrier, and she must have felt it too. Leaning down, Aidan used his tongue to coax her lips apart. When they did, he gave her no quarter. Waves of heat shot up from where they were joined, the kiss slowly spiraling out of control.
Good.
When he felt her tighten around him, Aidan thrust into her.
“Tell me when you want me to move again,” he said through gritted teeth, fighting the need to thrust again. Arms shaking as he held himself above her, he reminded himself not to look down. Instead, he concentrated on her face, waiting for her to relax.
“I . . . I think you can move.”
When he did, it wasn’t nearly enough. But she would set the pace, not he.
“Maybe a bit more.”
He gave her more, would give her everything if she so desired. Need coiled in his groin, the desire to push so strong—
“Like this.” The lass grasped his hips and guided him. He’d have laughed again if he could breathe.
She was going to kill him. Aidan would die the night before his own wedding.
Another push of her hips, and he’d had enough. It was clear Clarissa was ready, and so he gave her what she’d so gently asked for. Aidan gave her all of him. Instead of releasing his hips, she continued to hold on, to push them together. By now he was slamming into her harder than he would have wanted for their first time, but Clarissa showed no signs of relenting. It was only when he began to circle his hips that she let go in favor of gripping the coverlet.
“Aidan, I need—”
“I know what you need, my love.”
He kissed her. For every missed opportunity. Every time he’d left her. He kissed her for not having come back for her sooner, for the love that had first budded in his heart the first day they met.
Aidan kissed her for loving him back.
