Page 41 of The Love Leap (Timeless Love Chronicles #1)
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The modest window pours a muted glow across the antique floorboards as the moonlight filters through a thin veil of clouds, casting a gentle, silvery sheen over the patchwork quilt draping the bed.
“Well, Mrs. MacDowell,” Cal teases with a cheeky grin, using the firestarter on his survival knife to light two candles and a tiny oil lamp on the dresser. “Can I take ye to bed— with fewer clothes this time?”
Before I can come up with one of my classic snappy comebacks and potentially spoil the mood, I leap onto the bed impulsively, yanking my fresh-off-the-altar husband down with me in a burst of infectious laughter. We crumple onto the soft quilt in a jumble of limbs and wedding finery.
I lay there chortling, amazed at the delightful madness of it all .
“What has ye grinning ear to ear?” Cal asks, propping himself up on an elbow to gaze at me.
“Just thinking how surreal all of this is. Us. Married. In Scotland... in 1645.”
“Aye, it’s pure mad,” he agrees as he smooth back an errant lock of my hair. “But there’s no one else I’d rather be mad with than you, Mills.”
His lips find mine in a kiss that ignites a rush of pure need through me. I melt into him, savoring the strength of his arms, the softness of his lips, and the scrape of his stubble. When we finally break apart, I look up at him, feeling the sweltering heat of our connection.
“You know,” I say, playing with the edge of his kilt, “when I rented the last cottage on the cove, all I wanted was a quiet escape and a spark for my novel. Now I’m working on a series set in Scotland, and you’re... quite the character study.” I laugh.
Cal’s voice spills out in a sultry whisper. “Happy to help with the research, especially if it involves positions.” He gives me a flirty wink, and I roll my eyes.
“You’re a handful,” I say.
“Aye. It’s part of my charm.”
I caress his chest and imagine working side-by-side, creating something meaningful. That picture sends a tingle of excitement through me.
“Let’s start writing tomorrow. Maybe we can mix in some Loch Ness legends. ”
His gaze softens, warmth flooding his eyes. “With yer creativity and my local lore, it’ll practically write itself.”
My fingers trace his jaw, savoring the rugged feel beneath my touch. I’m practically drooling over my husband and his perfect mix of grit and sophistication.
Cal rummages in his sporran and pulls out a cell phone.
“I believe ye deserve a proper wedding waltz, Mills. This time, I’m prepared. It’s Cameron’s playlist, but it’ll serve us well.”
A soft laugh slips out as I recall our missed kiss at Rosewood Cottage. “So, no more depending on Mother Nature for our romantic soundtrack?”
“Nae,” he grins wickedly, tapping away on the screen.
“I’ll not be shown up by horny deer again.”
As the room fills with the haunting melody of a Scottish love ballad, Cal tosses the phone onto the table and tugs me against him.
One hand finds its way to my lower back while the other intertwines with mine.
Our bodies sway to the rhythm of the music in an instinctive dance that feels as natural as breathing.
Caught in Cal’s intense gaze, those sapphire eyes promising me everything under the stars, I feel like I’m drowning in pure adoration.
To think that when I arrived in Aven Valley, I was just another cynic with a shattered faith in love... And now? Now here I am head over heels for a tartan-clad man who bulldozed through my walls with his kindness and charm.
If this is some sort of dream, then please don’t wake me up, because everything about this moment is real. The solid warmth of Cal’s body pressed against mine, his earthy-spicy scent filling my senses, the rhythmic thud of his heart in time with mine—it’s all beautifully, achingly real.
The rhythm of the music holds us together, lost in our own little universe. Cal’s hands start to wander, tracing my curves with a reverence that sets my skin aflame.
“Mills,” he growls, his voice gravelly with want. “Do you have any clue what you’re doing to me?”
“I think I’m starting to get an idea,” I breathe out, my fingers digging into the soft fabric of his shirt.
His lips find that sweet spot just below my ear.
“Oh love, ye’ve only just begun to understand,” he says in a huskier growl, sending delicious tremors down my spine. And then he’s kissing me—a scorching kiss that’s all-consuming passion and unhidden need. I surrender myself completely, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his desire.
When we finally break apart for air, I blink open my eyes and find Cal looking at me with an expression that’s a potent mix of love, lust, and pure joy.
The way he gazes at me like I’m the most precious thing in his world makes me feel like the air’s left my lungs.
That, and sensing his growing arousal through the fabric of his kilt.
Cal opens up his sporran and pulls out a condom. “I’m afraid one’s all I had time to grab… this and another survival knife.”
“I imagine we’re going to do it more than once, sailor,” I giggle. “I could ask Fi for birth control advice, but I’m not exactly keen on a sex-ed class from her and Fergus.”
Cal barks out a laugh. “Well then, we’ll have to learn all the old-timey methods ourselves. Through practice.”
And then, with that adorable, devilish grin, he nudges me onto the bed, and I land on my back with him hovering over me.
Slowly, almost reverently, he begins to slip off the stunning gown and petticoat Fiona gifted me. His fingers glide over my skin like silk whispers. Each touch leaves an echo of longing behind, a craving for more closeness, to feel every inch of him against me.
As the last piece of clothing falls away from me, his eyes drink in every curve and angle of my body.
“Christ, yer beautiful,” he breathes out. “How did I get so lucky?”
Fumbling with the buckles on his kilt sends a low moan slipping past my lips as I finally strip him bare.
“Damn,” I gasp out while drinking in the sight of him. “I mean, just look at you! I’m hitched to a Scottish Sex God. ”
He captures my hands and pins them above my head.
“Aye, lass,” he whispers into the space between us. “Just ye wait... by the time I’m done, ye’ll be inventing a whole new pantheon just for me.”
His bold declaration rips a laugh from me, but the intoxicating closeness of our tangled bodies quickly silences it. The smoky look in his eyes leaves me gasping for air, my body humming with anticipation.
“Now, I'm going to worship every inch of you.”
His lips brush my forehead, eyelids, and linger on my lips, before blazing a trail of fiery kisses along the curve of my neck. He traces them down my abdomen and the curves of my hips, pausing teasingly at my thighs, locking his eyes onto mine with a smoldering intensity.
“I’ve been craving yer sweetness,” he murmurs huskily.
I let out a low, feral moan as he dips his head and his tongue delves deep inside me.
He moves with skill and purpose, coaxing wave after wave of climax until I’m left panting and trembling.
When he finally comes up for air, sheaths himself, and fills me with his firm presence; his gaze is all heat and promise.
As he moves against me, we easily find our rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of ecstasy rippling through me, awakening a wild side I never knew existed.
Then, in one smooth move, Cal hoists me from the bed, and my back meets the cool, rough surface of the attic wall.
His hands cup my ass as he pins me against the stone with his hips.
The sudden shift sends jolts of pleasure crashing through me, each one more potent than the last. Our bodies meld together against the wall in a sensual dance of intimacy, every gasp and moan echoing into the electric night, threatening to rouse our sleeping friends below.
“ Teine ’ na broinn ,” he growls low in his throat as he lifts me higher, his eyes full of that devilish spark that only fuels our wildness. “I cannae get enough of you.”
His hands grip my backside, pulling me even closer, his hips moving with a deliberate, tantalizing rhythm.
Each touch is like lightning, the rough stone wall’s cool texture heightening the intoxicating heat of his body pressed against mine.
I arch into him, feeling the solid strength of him thrusting into me, every hard inch of him carved in pure need.
His lips trail fiery kisses along my throat, murmuring sweet nothings in that irresistible Scottish brogue that amplifies every sensation tenfold. Every whispered word, every heated touch resonates deep inside me, building to a crescendo that leaves me breathless and trembling.
“Cal, oh God,” I pant, my fingers threading through his hair and pulling him closer as if I could somehow fuse us into one. The world blurs around us, every sense focused solely on the overwhelming pleasure that’s consuming us both .
His movements quicken, each pelvic thrust sending ripples of ecstasy through my body. A delicious tension coils tighter and tighter within me, a storm of emotion and sensation ready to explode.
As we come together, I throw my head back, a wordless cry escaping my lips.
Cal’s deep growl of satisfaction echoes around us—primal and raw—and its unexpected intensity sends a shockwave through me, pushing me over the edge once more.
The sound reverberates through the attic, wrapping around us, and I find myself surrendering to another surge of bliss more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt before.
Panting and spent, we slide to the floor, still entangled in each other’s arms, the warmth of our bodies and the cool stone wall a comforting contrast. I look up at him, my heart full to bursting, and find his eyes locked on mine with a mixture of tenderness and awe.
“Ye’re incredible, Mrs. MacDowell,” he murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face with infinite care.
“And you’re legendary, Captain,” I chuckle softly, the sound a mix of joy and contentment.
We stay sprawled and knotted up against the wall, soaking in the afterglow as stars spill through the attic window.