Page 36 of The Highlander’s Hellion Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #1)
36
T he words crashed over her, healing something inside of her that she had not realized was broken. She brought her mouth back down to his, suddenly even more ravenous for him than she had been moments ago.
She vaguely felt one hand leaving her behind, and her mind barely registered the sound of Duncan fumbling with the door. All she knew was that one moment they were devouring each other, their mouths moving in a perfect, delicious rhythm, and the next she was slowly being laid down.
Their lips parted, and Alison found herself lying on top of a fur blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace.
She glanced at him. “Did ye have this planned?” she asked, grinning up at him. “Or do ye always keep a blanket on the floor of yer chamber?”
“I told ye,” Duncan answered, moving so he was kneeling between her thighs. “I have been makin’ plans for when ye were healed.”
They said nothing else as he leaned forward. Alison wrapped her legs around his waist once more, using the heels of her boots to drive his manhood down to her core.
The friction was delicious, making her arch her back so that she could grind her hips against his. He kissed her again, and there was a heat and passion within it that made her forget how to breathe.
Their lips moved. Their hips writhed. They became nothing more than breaths and moans, lips and tongues.
Alison felt like she was being burned from the inside out by the force of her need. She knew that there would be no stopping. Not tonight.
Here on this blanket, she was about to be claimed in the way husbands were meant to claim their wives.
The thought made her yank frantically on his shirt. She pawed at the fabric, her shaking hands trying to undo the buttons.
He began helping her, their fingers working together to peel the offending garment off his skin without breaking their kiss. Even when her hands raked over his bare flesh, it was not enough.
“I need all of ye,” Alison panted.
Duncan moved, his mouth leaving hers for the briefest of moments. He leaned back on his heels and stared down at her.
“I said it,” he declared, his eyes locking onto hers.
Alison gulped. “Ye did.”
He did not respond and continued to hold her stare.
Alison knew what he wanted; she was all too aware of what he was waiting to hear.
But why was she so reluctant to tell him? Had she not said the words to herself countless times over the last couple of weeks?
She wanted him to say something to break the tense silence, but she already knew on some deep, intrinsic level that he would not. As he had proven, he could be a patient man.
I have to make a choice.
There were two clear paths laid out before her. One where she did not return the words he had spoken to her moments ago in the hall and chose to lock her feelings for him inside her heart forever. She had no doubt that he would still claim her, but she also knew that it would not be the same.
And what would that mean for the rest of their lives? Would they be constantly dancing around the subject, with him having felt the snub of rejection and no longer wanting to risk expressing how he felt? Would she be afraid to admit her feelings to him forever?
Then, there was the second path. The one where she told him without reservation that she was in love with him too.
Alison knew that she had to decide to trust him, or else she would never be able to say those words. She needed to believe that he had spoken the truth each time he had told her he was never leaving her again, and stop holding his five-year absence against him.
Is that somethin’ I can do?
The answer was immediate, and she smiled as she looked up at him.
“I love ye,” she said, echoing the words he’d spoken to her mere moments ago. “I am in love with ye.”
Duncan gave her a wide, genuine smile—the first one she had ever received from him—and it completely transformed his face.
He was radiant .
She watched as his large hands moved, traveling down his body to undo his belt. He stood up, his eyes never once leaving hers as he shed the layers still covering his skin, then took off his socks and boots.
An idea came to her mind, and with trembling hands, Alison began to do the same.
She pushed herself to her feet, continuing to gaze longingly into her husband’s eyes as she reached behind her back. She took off her boots, throwing them into the corner beside the fireplace. Tugging on the laces of her gown, she felt the fabric slowly start to give way, and it was not long before it fell and pooled at her feet.
She stepped out of her gown and kicked it out of the way. Duncan’s kilt dropped to the floor, leaving him standing before her in nothing but his socks.
She lifted her undergarments over her head, the warmth of the flames in the grate licking at her exposed skin.
As they bared themselves to each other, now wearing nothing more than moonlight, Alison’s heart threatened to stop beating.
She lowered her gaze to her husband’s groin, seeing him standing in all his glory. He was a beautiful man—hard, proud, and ready for her. Like the rest of him, his manhood was long and thick. Her mouth went dry, and she clenched her thighs together in a concerted effort to contain her need.
Duncan drew nearer, his hand cupping the nape of her neck and guiding her mouth to his.
Their kiss was different this time. The kisses they had shared before were a call and answer to passion and desire. This one was a claiming, a final announcement to the universe that she was his wife in every way, from that night and for the rest of their days.
Duncan gently laid her back on the fur blanket, the softness of it contrasting gratifyingly with the coarseness of the hair on his chest.
Their kiss deepened, and she ran her hands over his flesh, pulling him closer to her. Duncan leaned to the side, his fingertips tracing a sensuous line down the column of her throat.
Goosebumps rose over her skin in the wake of his touch as his fingers moved over her collarbone. He skimmed her wound, following the contours of her ribcage, the plane of her taut belly, then circling her navel.
Alison’s breath hitched in anticipation of what he was going to do. His hands did not stop, his mouth continuing to claim her as his hand made its journey south.
She lifted her hips toward his hand as his fingertips slid through the downy fur at the apex of her thighs. Ever so gently, he parted her and began to explore her outer and inner folds. The sensation was electric, and she could feel herself growing wet as her walls pulsed imploringly.
She sucked in the air as he stroked her, then moaned as he let out a growl of primal desire and rolled her hard, sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger.
“Ye are mine,” Duncan snarled as he broke their kiss.
He slid a finger into her heated depths. The pressure of his meaty finger within her made her want more of him inside her. She clawed at his back and urged him to give her more. Duncan withdrew his hand and added another finger, sliding in and out of her hot cavern with increasing speed. Alison gasped at the increased pressure, her head thrashing from side to side as he pleasured her.
She reached up, trying to kiss him, but he moved away, not allowing their lips to meet.
He continued to pump his fingers into her. Alison’s forehead broke out in a sheen of sweat, and her breathing became raspy. Duncan watched her face, his eyes darkening as she moved her hips in time with his hand, feverishly trying to increase the friction inside her.
“Say it, wife,” he commanded. “Say that ye’re mine.”
“I’m yers,” she groaned, mad with the need for release.
A feral grin spread across Duncan’s face, and his hand stilled. He withdrew his fingers from her and crushed his mouth to hers. She met his tongue with her own, stroking the inside of his mouth, tasting him, and reveling in the fullness of his lips and his sensual moans.
He wedged his knees between her thighs to part her legs further. Holding his erect member, he teased the sides of her opening, moving in narrow circles until there was no more, and he slid his flared tip into her wetness.
Alison shuddered as he entered her, his girth gradually stretching and filling her until he knocked against her maidenhead and paused.
She deepened their kiss, grasped his muscular buttocks, and urged him to slide into her deeper. She needed to have all of him inside her until they were nearly inseparable. Just when she thought she would perish from the intensity of her desire, he drove his hips forward.
The pain was instant and sharp. Alison gasped as he sank into her until he could go no further. When he felt her flinch, he slowed down until she nodded for him to continue. As he moved inside her, the pain ebbed and was replaced by a heady, intoxicating ecstasy that swelled within her like a bubble.
He slowed down once more and broke their kiss. “I have been patient,” he said, slowly pulling out of her. “Now, ‘tis me turn.”
She opened her mouth to argue when he thrust his hips forward and buried his rigid shaft into her. She cried out as he filled her, and dug her fingernails into his upper arms.
This time, he did not slow down. He pumped in and out of her in a divine, tantric rhythm. Alison wrapped her legs around his lower back and locked her ankles together to push him into her further.
“Are ye me wife now?” Duncan demanded as he moved inside her, but she was too lost in her pleasure to respond. “Answer me!”
“Aye,” she panted, her fingernails raking down his back as pleasure coursed through her. “I’m yer wife.”
He kissed her again, their mouths moving in tandem with his thrusts.
Her muscles vibrated and hummed with ever-building pressure. Her legs shook from the force of it, and she knew it would not be much longer before she climbed to the pinnacle of her untapped rapture.
Alison had become nothing more than a being made of pure light and desire. And with every tantalizing drive of her husband’s hips, she felt herself shining brighter, the coiling in her belly winding higher.
Duncan moved his thumb down to her pearl and massaged it while he thrust into her. Alison screamed as the extra touch caused the bubble inside her to burst. She shook as her climax shot through her, arching her back and gripping the rug as she lost herself in the explosions, crying out Duncan’s name.
Duncan groaned, his hips stilling after he thrust into her one final time. She felt his warm seed bathing her, bringing with it a feeling of primal satisfaction.
Slowly, Alison started to come back to herself, the pleasure that had heightened all of her senses slowly receding, and she blinked her eyes, focusing on her husband.
Duncan was staring down at her as sweat ran in small rivulets down his chest. They smiled at each other with satiated satisfaction as he placed a tender kiss on her swollen lips.
Slowly, he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side next to her. With a large hand, he tugged her closer to him, tucking her into his side so she could rest her head on his chest.
Alison toyed dreamily with the tufts of hair on his chest. She was unsure how long they lay in silence, nothing but the sound of their breathing slowly returning to normal filling the space between them. Pressing her cheek to his chest, she listened to the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart.
“I didnae ken it was goin’ to be like that,” she mused, her voice still breathy.
Duncan chuckled, and she felt the sound reverberate through his chest. “There will be plenty more of it, too.”
She looked up at him, finding him grinning down at her. It was infectious, and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“Ye promise?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
“Och, aye,” he answered, humor lacing his words. “That might be the easiest promise I’ve ever made.”
“I’m sure there’ll be other promises,” Alison said.
A feeling of contentment had begun to wash over her, one that she had never experienced before. Her muscles felt languid, her body heavy with satisfaction.
“We have the rest of our lives, after all.”
Duncan nodded, his blue eyes shining as he gazed at her. “I suppose we do.”