Page 134 of All Scot and Bothered

Her body bloomed, undulating against him.

“You’ll have Redmayne, I suppose, and Jean-Yves to help even the odds,” she said a bit breathlessly. “But then there’ll be Alexander and Frank.”

He made a soft noise, exploring her jawline with his full lips. “I’ll need to hire a staff now that I’ve taken on a wife and child,” he proposed before kissing the tip of her nose tenderly. “I could leave that to ye when ye’re Mrs. Cassius Gerard Ramsay.”

“Cassius,” She tested his name, remembering what it stood for. Pulling back, she looked up into his dear, handsome features. “Do you still feel you are empty?”

Suddenly, his arms closed around her waist and he pulled her down over him on the bed, rolling until she straddled him. Filling his arms with the weight of her.

“Not anymore,” he said seriously, and as he stroked her cheek, she felt a tremor in his powerful hands. “Not ever again.”

She sighed happily and he pulled her down to possess her mouth in a kiss that left them both breathless and writhing.

He hastily peeled off her clothing, levering up to peel off his own.

When he had her bared above him, he filled his palms with her buttocks and lowered her against his shaft, letting her rub and writhe against the impressive sex like a kitten begging for attention.

She gave a broken sigh as his fingers toyed and teased her. She arched and danced over him, anchoring her hands on the springy hairs of his unyielding chest.

He was a golden god. A paragon that hardly belonged to this world.

But he belonged to her.

She dragged her palms down the delineations of muscle on his stomach, counting them, until she found the little trail that led her to the velvet silken skin covering the hardness that throbbed for her.

He expelled a guttural moan. “I love ye.”

Lost in the enchantment of the moment, she almost forgot to reply as sensation and need robbed her of speech.

But as she lifted her body and sank down slowly in a slide of silk and fire, she whispered the words they’d say every night for the rest of their lives. “I love you.”

This time, their passion wasn’t a storm. It contained no thunder or urgency. It was a whisper, one the very night stilled to hear. It was warm rather than hot and unhurried rather than frenzied.

This was a moment of discovery between them. Ofintent and trust and utter fulfillment. Ramsay’s touch contained awe, and his gaze was full of promises.

This time, when they arched together in a glorious spasm of bliss, Cecelia knew that, though she’d not been his first lover, this was the first time Cassius Gerard Ramsay had ever made love.