Page 75 of Bride takes a Scot
Declan grabbed her and ran his fingers through her hair until the strands surrounded his hand. Lord, her hair was soft. He tipped her head back and stared down at her lovely face. Declan set his mouth on hers and gripped her mouth to get her to accept his kiss. His tongue lashed with hers in an urgent, provokedmanner. She took hold of his arms and pushed him back, but Declan wasn’t deterred.
With his mouth on hers, his free hand roamed her garments until he was able to remove them. She stood naked. His mouth turned over hers repeatedly, determined to keep her busy while he discarded his tunic and tartans. When his skin crushed hers, she moaned. He wouldn’t let her speak and kept up the sensual assault. Declan eased her to the bed and gently pushed her back until she fell onto it. He took her legs, each now held in his hands, and set his mouth at her apex. With deliberate strokes of his tongue and mouth, he had her thrashing atop the bedcover within seconds.
“Declan, please…”
He peered at her as her plea stopped him for a moment. Declan wasn’t about to give in so easily. “Quiet,” he clipped, feigning outrage. He kept up the torment with his mouth teasing and taunting her and wasn’t sure how he maintained his ability not to succumb to the rush of blood pulsing to his manhood.
Isabella came undone, crying out as ecstasy had control of her. Declan knelt back and pulled her to her knees. “Do ye want to take me in your mouth?”
Her eyes widened but she did as he asked. She was inept at first, but then her mouth moved over his shaft and Declan tilted his head back and groaned. The warmth of her tongue and mouth heightened the sensation of his need. He allowed her a moment of such play until she licked him. That small gesture caused his legs to shake ferociously. Declan pulled back from her, shifted her back, and fell atop her. He joined them and with all the madness that possessed him now, he jammed his shaft into her. There was no turning back, no gentle touches, no sweet kisses, just maddening torment for them both.
What pleasure it was too, and he followed her commands when she said, “That’s it, harder. Hurry, keep going, don’t stop. I want all of you.”
His control faltered and with the first twinges of his culmination, he shouted at the intense paralyzing force that overtook him.
They came together in bliss that shattered them in a climax unlike any that he’d ever experienced. Declan gently pulled out of her and lay beside her. He rasped for breath which caused his chest to move rapidly. His heart thrummed so hard, he thought that it rivaled the beat of the Bang Brother’s drumming.
“Declan…”
He kept his eyes closed and tried to even his breath before he spoke to her. What was she thinking to give his sword away? That was the first question he intended to ask, but then he couldn’t help but take her with unabashed enthusiasm. Hadn’t he sworn never to take her roughly again? His promise to her meant nothing, not when she instigated his brashness. He pressed his hands over his face and calmed enough to have a civil conversation with his meddlesome wife.
“Why did ye give my sword to Anse?” his voice was hard, harder than he’d wanted it to be.
She leaned over him and caressed his chest. He suspected she’d intended to soothe him, but it was only making him want to take her again.
“I wanted to make war with you.”
He shook his head. “War?”
“You said that husbands make love, not war, with their wives. I wanted you to make war with me. So, I intended to instigate you so that you would…”
“Make war with ye.”
“Yes, and I must confess that I enjoy when you are rough. Well, sometimes, but I also like it when you are gentle. There are times though that I want you to make war with me.”
Declan laughed so hard that his eyes watered. He pulled her against him and kissed her with a long passionate meshing of their lips. “Ye are the most—”
“Spirited?”
“Aye, spirited woman. In the future, Wife, ye are not to touch any swords. The sword ye gave Anse, by the way, was my da’s. It holds a special place on the wall and is never touched. Besides, they are sharp weapons, and I don’t want you injured. If ye want to make war with me, just tell me, and I’ll oblige.” He flashed a smile at her.
“Very well, Husband, I shall do that. I didn’t know it was your da’s sword and meant no disrespect.”
“Nay, if my da were alive, he would’ve laughed to know ye used it to get your way.” Declan pressed his hands over the softness of her hair that fell by her shoulder.
“We should probably rejoin the festival,” she said sheepishly.
“Nay, let us lay here for a few moments. I liked hearing ye profess that ye loved me.” He hoped she’d say it again.
“I do love you, Declan. How silly was I to think love was foolish? I am grateful to the king for offering me to you and I am happy that you chose me.” Isabella rubbed her leg against his.
Declan knew before they left the fief he would take her again, but they would make love, not war. “Ye know very well that ye chose me and I am gladdened that ye did.” He pressed a hand on her face and tilted it so he could see her bonny blue eyes. “Ye never told me what was in the missive.”
“What missive?”
“The one I gave you before I left to await in the woods… Before…”
“Oh, that missive. It was from my mother. She wrote that my brother died.”