Page 18 of Claimed by the Obsessed Laird (Highland Bride Hunt #1)
They tumbled over the threshold together, and he pushed the door shut behind them, pinning her against it and bringing his mouth to hers once more with a growl that echoed through her whole body.
She moaned against his lips, his hand grabbing for her thigh and pulling it upward so that he could pin her to the door.
She could already feel the firmness of his manhood against her hip. A feeling still so new to her, but so thrilling she could not deny it. She reached for his face, pushing her hands into his hair, and he grabbed them and pinned them over her head with a warning grin.
“What did I tell ye about defying me, wife?” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers for a moment.
Despite herself, a shock of desire rushed through her, and she found her hips lifting to meet his as he kept her arms above her head, as though making certain that she could only touch him as much as he wanted her to.
Catching her bottom lip between his teeth, he tugged on it slightly, eliciting another groan from her throat.
Finally, once he seemed sure that she would make no move to defy him again, he bunched her skirts at her hips to expose her, his hands gripping for her thighs to part them like he was claiming something that had always belonged to him.
“Tell me, lass,” he murmured, as he moved to brush his lips against hers once more. “Do ye intend to defy me again?”
Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, trying to contend with the mess of feelings within her.
A part of her wanted to look at him and tell him that he had no claim over her, wife or not, and that she would not be so quick to submit to him in the ways that he wanted her to, and another part of her, a far more insistent one, was throbbing with such need that she would have promised him the heavens and the earth if it meant relieving some of that.
She kissed him once more, hoping it would pass for an answer, and, much to her relief, it did.
He released his manhood, and there, against the door, he moved so that he could guide himself against her.
Pulling her undergarments to the side, he planted himself into her and drove himself up and inside her, drawing a cry from her lips that must have been audible to everyone in the inn.
She clutched his arms, her nails digging into his flesh through the thin fabric of his shirt.
He wound himself around her, bracing her against the door as he continued to move up and into her in long, slow thrusts.
The sensation was far different from what they had shared before.
No, this was borne from something else entirely—her defiance turned to something else, her body made supplicant beneath his.
“I hate how ye make me submit, I hate that ye do this to me,” she mumbled, barely audible among her moans. Knowing full well she did not hate a second of it, but rather yearned for him.
And, as he lifted his mouth to find hers once more, driving his tongue into her as he buried his length inside of her, she knew that she would go seeking this again. Even if it meant defying him, even if it meant drawing his ire in the process.
“Then hate me all ye want, but I will never stop claiming ye. Ye are mine, and I will brand it on yer body if need be,” he growled, and she felt his control loosening with each moment.
As he seated himself deep inside of her, their mouths moved against each other, carving out the shape of some word, some language that they were still learning to translate together.
She could feel him within her, the strange newness of it, but the deep, primal certainty that this was where he belonged.
Her husband, claiming her, bringing this wild creature that he had taken as a wife into heel with nothing but the power of his pleasure and his touch.
She could do nothing but submit, even if she knew that it would not last beyond the confines of this encounter.
As she listened to his grunts and growls of pleasure, she could feel her own wanton desire building quickly inside of her.
Soon, her hips were moving back to meet him, something lustful and helpless getting the better of her.
His hands took hold of her hips as though he was trying to mark her with a brand that she would never shake off.
And at the thought of him claiming her, she felt the sudden rush of sensation rise through her, another cry coming from her mouth as she fell into the endless pool of pleasure that came from the two of them reaching out for each other.
He muttered a curse under his breath as he drove himself into her, stilling himself there as though he wanted to feel every motion of her convulsing body.
She sank into him, trembling, and then felt the sudden release within her, their bodies finally on the same page even if it felt as though their minds would never be.
As she clutched onto him, she tried her best to remember what this moment felt like, the way it was for the two of them to finally understand one another, if only for a moment.
And, though she was sure that it would not last forever, she knew that she wanted to cling to it for as long as she could.
For this man was her husband, and some part of him wanted to be his wife, even if her defiance might never let her truly submit to him.
But there, in that moment, she could have fooled herself into believing it was possible. And she wanted nothing more than for it to stay that way forever.