Page 44 of A Scottish Bride for the Duke (Scottish Duchesses #1)
“You’re close?” When she nodded, he groaned and dipped his head into the pillow. “I don’t know if I can?—”
“Please.” Her words felt disjointed.
“You drive me utterly wild, Isobel.” He kissed her neck clumsily, but his own movements felt as though they were disjointed, too. As though they were both coming apart at the seams.
This was what came of feeling too much. It all came spilling back out.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he sank into her as deeply as he could. Just enough that he stroked every part of her that craved that roughness, while still being tender with her.
How she loved him. This was happiness. This, here, with him. And although his promises would need to be earned, she would give him the chance to earn them.
Patience, her mother had written. She would learn to be patient with him, so long as he tried with her.
They were a team. A unit. They would approach things together, not from two opposite ends of the spectrum.
She believed him in that. And she believed he loved her. No man could have taken to his knees before her and not said the truth.
Her chest felt as though it was going to break apart. Pleasure reached a crescendo inside her, heat and light coalescing between her legs, and she pushed at Adrian’s chest until he paused and looked down at her, a line between his brows.
“Keep going,” she urged. “I just want to see yer face.”
Understanding dawned over him, and he pushed inside her again.
Once, twice, the muscles in his arms bulging as he held himself above her body, and she knew she was lost. Knew she would never find herself again without him.
The beautiful planes of his face stood in harsh relief as he held himself back, waiting for her pleasure.
When it broke over her, it was transcendent. She became something new, broken apart and reformed in the space of a single moment. He slowed within her, staying with her, eyes fixed on hers as she fell apart.
And she had the privilege of watching him, too, as he cracked, glorious pleasure spilling from between his seams. Saw his eyes flicker, the tension in his jaw tighten, urgent desire playing across his face as finally he reached his own climax. Still seated inside her.
She felt him swell, felt the rush of heat, and kept her gaze on his face the whole time.
She had never known such intimacy. It near broke her heart, but in the best kind of way.
“I love you,” she whispered.
He rested his forehead against hers. “I think I near gave myself a heart attack,” he said, the quiver of a laugh in his voice. “You turned me inside out, Isobel.”
She smiled with womanly satisfaction. “I hope I can do so again.”
“I have no doubt you will. And soon.” He kissed her tenderly. “But you will have to wait at least a little while for me to recover.” He collapsed on her, though holding himself in such a way that he didn’t drop too much weight on her. “You have broken me.”
“I rather suspect most men would wish to be broken in such a way.”
“I wish them luck in finding a wife as wonderful as you.” His hand cupped the back of her head. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yers.”
“Good. As it should be.” He rolled off her and rose to find a cloth and some water.
Isobel sat up, uncaring that she had nothing with which to shield her nakedness. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen her before. She had nothing to be ashamed about.
“Adrian.”
“Mm?”
“What happens if I get with child?”
He turned then, looking at her as though he had never seen her before, although of course he must have considered such things. She didn’t know much about creating children, but she did know it happened in beds such as theirs, and he likely knew far more about it than she.
“If you do,” he said, with surprising fervor, “then we will count ourselves heartily blessed.”
“Even if I were to become pregnant now ?”
“Even then.” His gaze searched her face. “Do you not want children?”
“No, of course I do. I was just thinking, we…” She gestured helplessly around them. “We have only just started papering the cracks that came between us. I hardly know how we would approach?—”
“Isobel.” Damp cloth in hand, he came back to her, and kneeled by her legs.
“I will be the first to confess I made a mistake. And I know I still have some time to go before making it up to you fully, though I intend to do it. But if we were to have a child—even now, my love—then I would consider it the greatest of blessings.”
He kissed her stomach, tenderly, and something in her belly turned over. “We are not going to suffer the same separation we endured once. Never again. We are going to love each other, and that is true with or without the addition of a baby.” He held her gaze. “Do you understand?”
The last of her fears melted away. Adrian was not going anywhere. Adrian loved her. Together, they would have a family—the kind of family she had always dreamed of having, one just like the one she’d experienced with her mother.
“Aye,” she whispered, smiling tremulously up at him. “I understand. Thank ye, Adrian.”
“Don’t thank me for that.” He cleaned her gently, giving her far more attention than he gave himself, each brush of the cloth soft against her skin. “Thank me for the large nursery I will build at the first possible moment.”
She laughed and when he put the cloth and water to one side again, joining her back in the bed, she said, “Then when ye build it, I’ll be sure to thank ye.”
“Good.” He stroked up and down her arm. “Are you all right?”
“The world deserves to not have him around any longer,” she mumbled. “Today was difficult, but having ye here at the end of it makes it all worthwhile.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” He held her a little closer and nuzzled her hair. “Now to go sleep. In my arms, where you belong. I’m sure I’ll wake you up again before too long.”
“Don’t make promises ye can’t keep.” Isobel yawned, the stresses of the day, and the relief of being in Adrian’s arms once more, making her more tired than she could have thought. “Goodnight, Adrian.”
“Goodnight, my love. My wife.” There was a smile in his voice. “See you in my dreams.”