Page 36 of A Highland Bride Disciplined (Scottish Daddies #2)

He finally turned to her, eyes dark as the waters behind him.

“Control became everythin’. It had to be.

But ye…” He gave a short, sharp laugh, almost bitter.

“Ye break that control wit’ every word out of yer mouth.

Every look. Every bloody step ye take. And I’ve tried, God help me, I’ve tried to bend ye to it. To bend Elise to it. But I cannae.”

Scarlett’s lips parted. She hadn’t expected this raw honesty, this unguarded edge to his voice.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I daenae want to. Nae anymore. The babe’s nae mine by blood, but she’s mine all the same. Ours. And I’ll keep my word, Scarlett. We’ll raise her. Together.”

Scarlett’s throat burned. She wanted to speak, to say something sharp or witty to cut the intensity, but no words came. All she could do was sit there, staring at the man who’d once been nothing but duty and command, now confessing what felt dangerously close to surrender.

She pressed her palms against her skirts, grounding herself. “Ye mean it,” she whispered.

Kian’s gaze snapped to hers. “Aye.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than anything before, but not crushing. Almost… liberating. Scarlett let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“I thought,” she said carefully, “that ye’d always resent her. Resent me, for takin’ her in.”

His brow furrowed. “Is that what ye think of me?”

Scarlett’s cheeks warmed. She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Her silence was enough.

Kian reached for the flask, took a long drink, then set it aside with more force than necessary. “I’ll nae lie, Scarlett. At first I did. I saw her as another weakness, another danger. A target painted on me wife’s back. On me back. But I was wrong.”

Scarlett’s heart fluttered at the word wife on his lips, spoken not as a duty but as something heavier, something intimate.

He leaned back on one hand. His gaze still locked to hers. “She’s part of us now. And I’ll nae let her go. Nae to anyone.”

Scarlett swallowed hard, the loch shimmering in her blurred vision. She blinked rapidly, refusing to let tears fall here, in front of him. “Ye surprise me, Kian Murray.”

His mouth curved again, that almost-smile. “A rare thing, I suppose.”

Scarlett gave a weak laugh, shaking her head.

She looked out over the loch, the stars doubled in its surface.

For the first time since finding out about Nieve’s death, since that terrible letter, she felt the faint stirrings of something other than guilt and grief. Something fragile, but undeniably warm.

She dared not name it. Not yet.

Instead she leaned back on her hands, mirroring him, letting the silence stretch between them. This time, though, it didn’t feel like a gulf. It felt like the beginnings of a bridge.

She hadn’t realized how close they’d leaned toward each other until Kian shifted and the warmth of his arm brushed hers. A shiver rippled down her spine, though the night air was still and cool. She swallowed, her throat dry despite the whisky.

He was watching her, not the loch, not the stars. Just her. And for the first time since their marriage, the weight of that gaze didn’t feel like scrutiny. It felt like… seeing.

Her lips parted. “Why are ye lookin’ at me like that?”

His voice was low, rough as gravel. “Because ye’ve ruined me.”

The words struck harder than any heated insult ever had. Her heart jolted. “Ruined ye?” she repeated, almost breathless.

“Aye,” he said, leaning closer still. “Every vow I made to meself, every line I drew… ye’ve crossed them all. And I cannae stop ye.”

Scarlett’s pulse thundered in her ears. She should say something sharp, something clever to keep him at a distance, but instead she whispered, “Maybe I daenae want ye to stop.”

The silence shattered between them like glass. His hand lifted, fingers brushing against her jaw, tentative at first, as though afraid she’d flinch away. She didn’t. She leaned into it, her skin warming beneath his touch.

Her thoughts tangled wildly. This isn’t duty. This isn’t obligation. This is choice.

When his thumb traced the line of her lower lip, Scarlett’s breath hastened.

The small, unthinking sound she made undid him.

His mouth covered hers in a kiss that was nothing like the desperate clash of lips they’d shared before.

This one was slow, deliberate, reverent.

He kissed her like a man discovering something precious for the first time.

Scarlett melted, her hands fisting into his shirt, pulling him closer. Her mind screamed that she should hold back, that to surrender was dangerous, but her body betrayed her as it leaned, arched, and pressed into him as though starved.

When he deepened the kiss, her head spun.

The whisky, the stars, the loch, everything blurred away until there was only Kian.

His hand slid from her jaw to the nape of her neck, anchoring her, steady and sure, while the other splayed against her waist. She felt the strength in his grip, but also the restraint.

He could claim her utterly, but he didn’t. Not yet.

Scarlett’s thoughts churned. He could crush me. He could command me. But he doesn’t. He lets me choose. That knowledge alone sent heat pooling low in her belly.

When his lips broke from hers to trail along her cheek, her jaw, the sensitive place beneath her ear, she gasped. “Kian…” Her own name for him sounded foreign on her tongue, almost wanting.

He groaned against her skin. “Say it again.”

“Kian.” Softer this time, trembling.

His teeth grazed the curve of her neck and she shuddered. He pulled back only far enough to look at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Tell me to stop, Scarlett, and I will.”

She shook her head before the words could even form. “I’ll nae say it.”

It was as if something inside him snapped. His mouth claimed hers again, hungrier now, fiercer.

She met him with equal fire, matching every stroke, every press of tongue and lips. Her skirts tangled around her legs as she shifted, straddling his thigh without thinking. The sudden friction dragged a moan from her throat that startled even her.

Heat flooded her cheeks. “I —”

“Daenae apologize,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to hers. “Never apologize for wantin’ me.”

Scarlett’s breath came fast, ragged. The sheer audacity of him should have stung, but instead it set her alight. She wanted him to know. She wanted him to feel how much he undid her.

Her hands slid up beneath his shirt, palms skimming over hard muscle, the ridges of scars earned from battles she hadn’t seen. He hissed, his whole body taut beneath her touch. She marveled at the power of it. How a simple brush of her fingers could unravel a man like him.

“Kian… please…” she whispered again, her voice breaking this time.

He kissed her fiercely, swallowing her trembling confession, before gentling again, lips soft and slow. His hand slipped up her side, over her ribs, stopping just shy of her breast as though asking permission without words.

Scarlett covered his hand with her own, guiding him higher. When his palm cupped her through the fabric of her gown, she gasped into his mouth. Her body arched instinctively, craving more, craving him .

Her thoughts scattered. This isnae duty. This isnae legacy. This is us.

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.