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As her inner muscles began to tighten around his fingers, he released her and pushed himself upright. The sudden movement—and loss—made Olivia lift her head in question, but he was already wrapping his arms around her, pulling her upright and swiftly positioning her.

She ended sitting in his lap, her back to his chest, his arm around her waist and her weight on her knees. Alistair reached around her to grab his own cock, stroking himself even as he urged her forward.

Well, they’d never experimented with this position, but it looked intriguing. She lifted herself up…then sank down upon him, each of them sighing with relief at the intimacy.

It felt so strange, to be spread like this without him in front of her. But Alistair wasn’t about to leave her desperate and as she rocked atop him, his thumb played with her clitoris as his other hand cupped her breast.

“Good lass,” he rasped. “…the way…”

God, his voice made her so hot. She lifted herself just enough for him to thrust up into her, but the position was awkward, and she found herself leaning forward once more, over his thighs and knees, until her palms went to the mattress once more.

He thrust once, and she gasped out loud as the tip of his cock hit a new place deep inside her. Her muscles began tightening in anticipation. “Alistair!”

“Aye. Aye. Aye…”

With each thrust her pleasure crept closer, until it burst over her. A keening sort of sound emerged from her throat, even as she rocked back and forth atop his cock, trying to drag out the sensation for as long as possible. Each time the tip of him hit that small, secret spot inside of her, Olivia felt her ecstasy prolong.

Then he grunted and tightened his hold on her, and she felt his warm spend flood her womb.

It was…

It was…

“Magnificent,” rasped Alistair.

She might have answered, had she not already collapsed across his legs, wrung out like a limp cloth after wash day.

It was a long moment before her breathing returned to normal, then he collected her. The counterpane had become tangled, of course, and that—combined with the ritual cleaning they performed for one another—took a bit.

But then she was sprawled atop him once more, her cheek pillowed on his chest. The small hairs tickled her nose but she was too satisfied to worry about that.

“I love you, Alistair,” she murmured, her fingertip tracing small circles around his nipple.

His hand clamped down over hers, ceasing the motion…but he took the sting out of it by lifting her fingers to his mouth and brushing a kiss across them. “Always?”

“Always,” she vowed as her eyes closed. “How could I not? You are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I was willing to sell myself to you, that first day, to save my paper. When you suggested marriage…” She trailed off, still smiling.

“Regrets?”

“None. I thought you might regret it.”

“Never.” His tone was adamant and his hold on her arse tightened.

“I know our marriage didn’t start typically, but you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world, Alistair Kincaid.”

“And ye…make me happy, wife.”

She smiled again. What else could a woman ask for?

“Love you, Liv.”

This was perfect.