Page 37 of Hunted By the Cruel Highlander (Lasses of the Highland Hunt #1)

He lifted her fully onto the bed, their bodies crashing down together, the mattress dipping beneath their weight.

His hands were immediately on her, strong and sure, sliding up her torso to cup the heavy swell of her breasts.

His fingers kneaded them with rough tenderness, his thumbs circling her taut nipples until they peaked sharply, aching beneath his touch.

“Ye’re mine, Gabriella,” he growled. “Nay one else will have ye.”

Slow and deliberate, he pushed inside her from behind, every inch sliding deep with a sweet, reverent stretch that stole her breath. A low moan escaped her lips as her walls wrapped tight around him, nerves igniting where he filled her.

His hips rolled slowly at first, building a steady rhythm that sent waves of heat deep within her. She gasped softly, her back arching, her fingers curling into the sheets, her body rising to meet each thrust with growing hunger.

“Ah, Hector…” she breathed, her voice trembling, “mo-more…”

He growled low in response, his voice thick with need. “Ye’re close, bonny lass. Let it come.”

His breath hitched, his fingers tightening on her hips as his thrusts grew harder, faster. The bed creaked beneath them, their moans rising and falling in a fierce, urgent harmony.

As the fire built, his hands slid around her waist, flipping her over with practiced ease until she was on her back, her eyes wide and dark, her lips parted in a breathless plea.

Without hesitation, he slid inside her again, deeper, harder, driving into her slick heat with raw, desperate power. Their bodies moved as one, a frantic rhythm pulsing between them, hands clutching, nails digging, breathing ragged.

“Come for me, Gabriella!” he growled, his voice cracking with need.

A trembling cry tore from her lips, every muscle clenching, waves of release crashing through her as she shuddered beneath him.

His body tensed, a guttural roar escaping as he spilled deep inside her, pulsating and shuddering with the force of his climax.

They collapsed together, breathless and trembling, wrapped tight in the fierce, tender aftermath of their union.

Gabriella woke up to the sound of urgent knocking at the door. For a moment, she was disoriented. This wasn’t her chamber, and the warm, solid presence beside her was…

“Hector,” she whispered, memories flooding back.

A smile spread across her face as she remembered the night before, the way he’d loved her so completely and pleasured her so thoroughly.

“Hector!” came a voice from outside the door. “The sun’s been up for an hour! Where’s our bride?”

Erica.

Gabriella’s eyes widened as she realized what this looked like—her, naked in Hector’s bed, the morning of their wedding.

Hector stirred beside her, his arm tightening around her waist. “Tell them to go away,” he mumbled into her hair.

“I cannae do that.” Gabriella laughed softly. “It’s our wedding day.”

“Hector!” Erica’s voice was more insistent now. “Maither sent me to fetch Gabriella for the preparations! She’s nae in her chambers. Where is she?”

Hector sighed dramatically and raised his voice. “She’s… right here but indisposed at the moment.”

There was a pause, and then Erica’s scandalized gasp carried through the heavy door. “Hector Muir! Did ye… the night before yer weddin’?”

“Actually,” Gabriella called out, surprising herself with her boldness, “it was me idea!”

Another pause, then Erica’s delighted laughter. “Well, well! Our shy little bride has some fire in her, after all!”

Hector grinned down at Gabriella, pride and love shining in his eyes. “That she does.”

“But fire or nay fire,” Erica continued, “Maither and the other women are waitin’ in the solar. They’ve got flowers to braid, a dress to fit, and enough fussin’ planned to last until sunset. So, unless ye want them comin’ up here to drag her out themselves…”

“We’re comin’,” Hector called, though Gabriella made no move to leave the warmth of his arms.

“We?” Erica’s voice rose. “Oh nay, Hector. Ye’ve had yer fun. Now it’s time for the women to take over. Ye willnae see yer bride again until she walks down the aisle.”

Hector groaned. “Cruel tradition.”

“Necessary tradition,” Erica corrected. “Now, put some clothes on the girl and send her out before I have to explain to our maither why her future daughter-in-law is late for her own weddin’ preparations.”

Gabriella pressed her face against Hector’s chest, trying to muffle her laughter. “I should go.”

“Should,” he agreed, but made no move to release her. “But I dinnae want to let ye go.”

“Hector Muir!” Erica pounded on the door again. “Dinnae make me get Noah and Malcolm to break down the door!”

“Ye wouldnae dare,” Hector called back.

“Try me!”

Gabriella pushed herself up on her elbow, looking down at the man who would be her husband in just a few hours. He looked younger in the morning light, his dark hair tousled, his eyes soft with love and contentment.

“I love ye,” she said simply.

His hand came up to cup her cheek. “And I love ye. Forever and always, mo chridhe.”

She leaned down to kiss him, soft and sweet, before reluctantly pulling away. “But if I dinnae go now, Erica really will break down the door.”

“Aye,” he sighed, sitting up. “And me maither will have me head if ye’re late.”

He found her chemise and helped her into it, his touch reverent and gentle. As she dressed, he pulled on his clothes, both of them moving with the easy intimacy of lovers.

“Ready?” he asked, his hand on the doorknob.

Gabriella smoothed her hair and squared her shoulders. She felt different this morning—more confident, more sure of herself and her place in the world.

She was no longer the frightened girl who’d been rescued from a hunt. She was a woman who knew her mind and heart, who’d chosen her destiny.

“Ready,” she said.

Hector opened the door to reveal Erica standing in the hallway, her hands on her hips and a knowing smirk on her face.

“About time,” she huffed, then her expression softened as she took in Gabriella’s glowing face. “Och, lass. Ye look radiant.”

“I feel radiant,” Gabriella admitted, her cheeks pink with happiness.

“Good.” Erica linked their arms and began to pull her toward the stairs. “Because ye’ve got a castle full of women waitin’ to make ye even more beautiful, if such a thing is possible.”

“Take care of her,” Hector called after them.

“We always do,” Erica replied without looking back. “Now, go find something useful to do while we work our magic. And Hector?”

“Aye?”

She turned back with a grin. “Well done.”

Gabriella’s laughter echoed through the corridors. Suddenly, she ran back into the room and kissed him.

“Thank ye, Me Laird.”

“Aye.” Hector smiled. “Ye’ll soon be me wife in truth as well as in heart.”