Page 103 of A Highland Bride Disciplined

When his thumb brushed over her nipple, the thin fabric offering no real barrier, her whole body jolted. She clutched at him, pulling him closer until there was no space between them, only heat and need. His mouth left hers to taste the hollow of her throat, her collarbone, every inch he could reach.

Scarlett tipped her head back, eyes squeezed shut, letting the sensations crash over her like waves.

She forced her eyes open, desperate to anchor herself. He was watching her again, even as he touched her, his gaze searching, raw. Not command. Not conquest. But need.

Scarlett’s lips curved into a smile. “This isnae about duty, is it?”

His answer came hoarse, breathless. “Nay. Just us.”

Her chest tightened, tears pricking unbidden at the corners of her eyes. She kissed him again, pouring everything into it. All her fear, her longing, her dawning realization.

When he lowered her gently back onto the blanket, his weight braced carefully above hers, she didn’t resist. She didn’t fear. For the first time since the wedding, she let herself want without shame, without hesitation.

The next kiss, she pulled his bottom lip in between her teeth and tugged him back with her. A curse rumbled from his chest before his mouth found hers again, rougher now, hungrier.

His hand slid down the length of her body that arched in response, desperate for more, and he groaned like the movement alone undid him. His thumb brushed her nipple until it stiffened beneath the thin fabric, and then his mouth replaced his hand.

Sweet mercy —

Scarlett gasped when his lips closed over her breast, the heat of him searing even through the gown. His teeth scraped lightly before he sucked, hard enough to make her back bow. She clutched at his hair, breath coming ragged. When his hand moved to the other breast, teasing and kneading, she thought she might weep from sheer need.

“Please,” she whispered, not sure what she begged for.

Kian seemed to understand anyway. His free hand slid lower, over her waist, her hip, until he reached the edge of her skirts. He paused, gaze flicking up to hers, giving her one last chance.

Her pulse thundered, but she nodded. “Aye.”

In one smooth motion he pushed beneath the fabric, fingers sliding over the soft skin of her thigh, up — up — until he reached her molten core. The first brush of his calloused fingers made her cry out, muffled quickly against his shoulder.

“Oh, Kian!”

“God above, ye’re ready for me,” he groaned, voice breaking with hunger.

Scarlett bit her lip, her cheeks burning, but the shame dissolved the moment he circled her clit with the pad of his thumb. Her whole body jolted, every nerve alight. He teased her slowly at first, stoking the fire in between her thighs, pressing her just enough to drive her mad.

Her hands fisted in his shirt, dragging him closer, needing something, anything. “More,” she gasped. “Please.”

He gave her what she asked for. Two fingers slid inside her, filling her, stretching her. She cried out, legs trembling, but the stretch was exquisite. He moved slowly, curling his fingers just right, dragging across that place inside that made her see stars.

Scarlett clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders, her hips rolling against his hand with a rhythm she couldn’t stop even if she tried. He kissed her again, swallowing her moans, before pulling back to watch her face, his lips wet and swollen.

“That’s it, lass,” he rasped. “Take it. Let me feel ye break.”

Her body built and built, wave after wave cresting higher until it tore through her. She shattered with a sharp cry, her whole body convulsing around his fingers. Kian groaned low, kissing her again as though to drink down the sound of her pleasure.

When she finally slumped back against the blanket, trembling and flushed, he withdrew his hand slowly, deliberately. Then he lifted his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean, eyes never leaving hers.

Scarlett’s mouth watered, chest heaving, and heat flooded her face. “Ye’re shameless.”

“Aye,” he said with a crooked smile, leaning down to press a final kiss to her swollen lips. “Ye like it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

The two of them fell into fits of laughter. Their bodies weaving together tighter. And in that moment, Scarlett realized that she was falling for her husband. And perhaps, God willing, he was falling for her too.

21

The torches along the corridor whispered as rain fell softly against the arrow slits. Scarlett’s skirts brushed the stone, her husband’s stride steady beside her, his hand warm but firm at the small of her back.