Page 25 of The Cruel Highlander’s Healer (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #1)

EPILOGUE

Two Weeks Later

“Acht!” Marissa exclaimed, waving her hands in front of her face so she wouldn’t cry. “Ye just look so bonnie.”

Eliza flushed with pride as she stared down at her hands. Kate tugged on a strand of Eliza’s hair, making her laugh.

“I’m tryin’ to make ye look even bonnier, but ye keep turnin’ yer head!” Kate griped, prompting Eliza to straighten her shoulders.

Her friend stood behind her, plaiting Eliza’s hair into an intricate design. Marissa flitted into Eliza’s vision again, taking Eliza’s hands in her own.

“I am so happy for you.”

Tears stung Eliza’s eyes.

“Maither, ye have to stop,” she said, voice hoarse and filled with affection. “Because if I start blubberin’ now, I will nae be able to stop and Conall will send me back to the cottage with ye.”

Her mother waved her hands in front of her face.

“I willnae have it!” she called. “It’s been quiet without ye and I love me quiet. I willnae be havin’ ye back.”

Eliza heard Kate chuckle behind her as Marissa turned, stalking to the corner so she could put the finishing touches on the bouquet Eliza would be holding as she walked down the aisle. Studying her hands again, Eliza let her mind wander.

The past two weeks had been a whirlwind. From the moment she’d told Kate and Marissa about how soon the wedding would be, they’d insisted they’d help her with everything.

And help they had.

As she glanced down at her lap, at the swaths of red plaid fabric that made up her wedding gown, another swell of gratitude bubbled up inside of her.

“There ye are,” Kate said from behind her, patting Eliza on the shoulder. “Yer hair is all done.”

Eliza sniffed, banishing the tears of appreciation that were now threatening to spill over as she stood. She glanced at Kate, taking her hands as well and giving them an appreciative squeeze.

“Thank ye,” Eliza said. “I cannae explain how much yer help means.”

“Daenae go doin’ that,” Kate responded, tears rising to her own eyes. “We’ll all start blubberin’ and ye have to go get married!”

Eliza laughed but the chiming of the church bells rang overhead. It truly was time for her to get married.

The three women walked with Eliza in the middle. As they reached the door to the church, Kate turned and gave her one final hug before disappearing into the nave.

The sound of bagpipes filled the air, and Eliza turned to look at her mother.

“Are ye ready?” Marissa asked.

Eliza nodded. She had never been surer of anything in her life.

As the music swelled, Eliza and Marissa walked through the doors of the church. It was filled with people, most of whom Eliza did not know. Apparently, the wedding of a Laird was a well-tended event.

But Eliza did not care that she was in a room filled mostly with strangers. Because Conall stood at the end of the aisle, brown eyes locked on hers, and Eliza could see nothing else but him.

Her mother delivered her to him at the end of the aisle, placing her hand in his. The sound of the music cut off, and the priest began to speak.

“Wife,” Conall said under his breath, giving Eliza a wink as the priest addressed the congregation.

“I’m nae yer wife, yet,” Eliza whispered back, smiling at him with fondness.

“Ye will be, though,” he answered, “and then ye will be mine. ”

The growl in his voice was not lost on her, and her cheeks flushed at the thought of all the ways he would stake his claim on her. She was spared any further answering as the priest announced the beginning of the handfasting.

The tartan of the MacKinnon clan was placed over their linked hands, wrapping and twining around them until they were bound to one another entirely. Eliza stared at it, love and emotion rising thick in the back of her throat.

The knot was tied, sealing their marriage as she stared deeply into Conall’s face.

Many thought him brutish. And he was, when it came to protecting the people that he loved. But she could not think of anyone who she could love more than the beautifully scarred man standing before her.

“I now pronounce ye man, and wife.”

The priests voice rang out over the crowd and Eliza beamed at her husband. Cheers went up, and she locked eyes with her mother, who was beaming at her from the front row of the church, clapping her hands enthusiastically.

“Ye may now kiss yer bride.”

Eliza leaned forward, allowing her new husband to press his lips to hers for the very first time. The rope binding their wrists together in the knot tying ceremony chafed against her skin, but she didn’t mind. Not as Conall kissed her for all the world to see.

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her away from her husband’s kiss, and Eliza looked down to see Marissa with her arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

“Ye did it,” Marissa cheered, beaming up at her daughter with tears brimming in her eyes. “Ye married the Beast of the MacKinnons. What will God have in store for ye next?”

Conall grumbled, bristling at the nickname he hated so much. Of course, when Marissa had found out how much the name grated against his skin, she’d made it a point to use it whenever she could. Usually followed up with a wink.

Kate was standing just behind Eliza’s mother, waiting with a smile to congratulate her friend. The sound of bagpipes filled the air, announcing the nuptials as the church bells began to ring.

Eliza smiled, waving her friend forward and wrapping her in a hug the moment she stepped forward.

“Ye look beautiful,” she breathed, squeezing Eliza one more time before letting her arm drop.

Flower petals filled the air as everyone tossed them up, but Eliza could see no one else but her husband.

She smiled at him, a tingle running down her spine as she knew what was about to happen next.

The day they buried Conall’s mother was the same day that they’d planned their wedding. Eliza had worried about the timing, had asked Conall if maybe they should wait. But he had been adamant.

“I willnae wait to make ye me wife,” he had growled. “I willnae wait to claim ye.”

He had meant it. And, as Eliza thought of all that claiming would entail, a thrill rocked through her. They left the church in a flurry of activity, and all through the wedding feast Eliza could hardly sit still.

Her hands kept fidgeting in her lap, and she could hardly focus enough to eat.

Finally, blessedly, much too long after their wedding ceremony, Conall stood and announced that they’d be retiring for the evening.

Hand in hand they exited the dining hall, everyone stopping to congratulate them on their way. Eliza had no doubt that the celebration would last well into the night, but she had a different type of celebration in mind.

Apparently, her husband did, too. The moment they were far enough away from the dining hall that the sound of the reverie had died down, he was on her.

He tugged her toward him in one swift movement, a yip of surprise wrenching itself from her. Conall’s large arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in their warmth and his mouth crashed into hers.

He claimed her, hands roaming her body as if he needed to touch every single inch of her before he would be satisfied. His tongue darted forward, parting her lips and then dancing with her own.

Eliza’s hands twined around his neck, a soft moan sounding in the back of her throat. Heat and desire pooled low in her belly, and before she knew it, Conall had lifted her.

She threw her head back and laughed as he carried her, marching his way toward their bedchamber with her legs thrown over his arms as he carried her.

“I hope ye are nae too tired, wife,” he growled in her ear, a trickle of anticipation dancing along her flesh.

“I’m nae tired at all,” Eliza purred back.

The moment they were in their rooms, Conall placed her on their bed. Her legs parted for him of their own accord, and he descended upon her like a man crazed.

His mouth found hers again, moving in beautiful, perfect rhythm as he kissed her breathless. One of his hands roamed down her body, the barest of touch through the fabric of her gown.

She needed more. Wrenching her mouth away from his, Eliza broke their kiss. Pawing at his clothes, she wrenched his tunic from where it was tucked into his kilt, exposing the bottom of his chiseled stomach.

“I need ye,” she panted.

Conall’s hands came up to help her, the two of them making quick work of stripping him bare. Then, his hands were on hers.

With practiced fingers, Conall reached behind her, undoing the buttons of her wedding gown. The fabric gave way, and when he gave it a quick, strong tug, it pulled down her body in one swift movement.

She shimmied out of it, moving her body a little further along the bed. Leaning up on her elbows, her eyes roved over Conall.

She hadn’t seen him like this before. He’d been clothed during their night at the end. But now, he was far from that. Standing naked and glorious in front of her.

Her eyes travelled down her husband’s body, her mouth going dry as she took it all in. His chest speckled with thick, coarse hair, his well-defined abs that she wanted to run her fingers over.

And then, his member, standing stiff and proud and as Conall’s eyes devoured her.

He fell onto her again, their mouths colliding in their well-practiced movement. This kiss felt deeper, though. More feral than any they had ever shared before that moment.

Once more, his hands trailed down her body. His fingertips left tingles in their wake, marking their path along her collar bone and down to her nipples.

He gave one of her nipples a quick, sharp tug, eliciting a moan from the back of Eliza’s throat. Conall broke their kiss, eyes dancing with desire as he stared down at her.

“Ye’re so eager, wife,” he murmured, his words causing another wave of desire to crash over her.

“I need ye to claim me, husband.” Eliza’s voice was hoarse, the sound of it causing Conall’s eyes to darken with a lust filled haze.

His fingers continued on their path, tracing down the hollow of her stomach. When it arrived at the tangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, she drew in a quick breath.

The corner of her husband’s mouth tugged up in a smile as his fingers dipped between her slick folds.

Conall parted her, fingers swirling around that perfect nub at the center of her thighs. She inhaled, hips bucking up to meet him.

“Greedy,” Conall murmured.

Eliza was unable to reply as he dipped his fingers inside of her.

The sensation of it was as glorious as she remembered. And, as Conall’s fingers began to pump in and out of her, Eliza panted out her pleasure.

His mouth fell on her again, and Conall extracted his fingers from inside of her. He parted her knees, placing himself between them.

Anticipation had her stomach clenching, and her hips shifted to accommodate the width of him. The tip of him nudged against her entrance, and she had never wanted anything more than to feel him fully seated inside of her.

He broke their kiss, staring down at her with love filled eyes.

“I love ye,” he murmured, the words sending a thrill through her.

“And I love ye,” her voice was breathy as he reached between them, guiding himself so that he lined up directly with her entrance.

He kissed her again, slower this time. Their mouths moving as her husband slowly began to push into her.

It hurt at first, a sharp pain just like the first time he’d stuck his fingers inside her. But it was quickly replaced by a delicious warmth spreading throughout her body.

Inch by inch he sank, filling her until there was no more of him left. She felt so beautifully full, but him seated inside of her was not nearly enough.

Eliza ground her hips, her body seeking some kind of friction. A moan escaped Conall, and a feral grin pulled itself across her face.

He began to move, their hips grinding together. Slowly at first, but then building. Each thrust came a little more quickly than the last, building along with the tension that was coiling itself in her lower stomach.

Eliza arched her back, bucking her hips as her husband thrust into her, anything so that she could feel more of him. Faster and faster they moved, Conall pumping into her with a ferocity that stole Eliza’s breath.

She lost herself entirely to the sensation. She was nothing more than movement and feeling. Her hands raked across his back, her claws digging into his flesh as she cried out his name.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it. The pressure inside of her was building with each thrust. Eliza was standing on a precipice, a second away from falling into an abyss.

“Eliza,” Conall groaned.

And that was all it took. The sound of her husband panting her name sent her over the edge.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, her body spasming with the force of it. Eliza couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything except give herself over to the sensation that was filling her body with fire.

Conall’s thrusts became more erratic, his grunts of pleasure more pronounced. And just as Eliza thought she could take no more, Conall was stiffening inside her, groaning as he found his release on the tail end of her own.

She felt something warm and pulsing inside of her, a glow spreading from the deepest part of her core. Finally, with one final thrust, Conall collapsed on top of her.

Her heart was hammering, and from where he was laying with his head pressed against her chest, Eliza was certain he could hear it.

Absentmindedly, her fingers toyed with his hair, both of them panting as they waited for their breathing to return to normal.

Finally, when she felt like she could, Eliza spoke.

“If that’s what beddin’ feels like, I daenae ken how we’ll ever be able to leave this room.”

The End?