Chapter Thirteen

Blair’s body burned, blazes bursting to life on the sensitive areas of her skin where Finlay’s hands slid down her as he eased her feet to the floor. He backed away, and she shivered at the loss of his warmth until his heated gaze returned to her with a longing so intense she thought she would ignite.

Swallowing, she shuddered and averted her eyes.

“Look at me,” came the gravelly order that sent awareness down to her core.

He lifted her chin, and she met those multicolored eyes.

“I’m going to go slow.”

She thought she felt herself nod but couldn’t tell if she’d made the move or if the room was tilting.

His hand circled her nape, fingers cradling her head as his mouth came crashing down on hers. Lips tingling, she felt another odd sensation as her chest rubbed against his. Her breasts felt tight and full, like they’d swelled under her shift, which now felt impossibly tight.

Her hands reached for his side, and she was rewarded with taut flesh. She explored from his hips to his back then pulled herself on her toes and up onto his solid form to deepen the connection.

Vaguely aware of him moving as his mouth worshipped hers, she felt a light brush of air as his hands drew her shift up to her hips, revealing her bare skin and bringing back that feeling of being vulnerable and exposed. She shivered and dropped to the balls of her feet, severing the connection.

His eyes had dilated, and his body had become tense and rigid like the walls of an impregnable fortress. His breathing appeared labored, or was that hers?

Licking his lips, he stilled, seeming to ask permission.

Her heartbeat accelerated, but she took a breath and nodded.

Thumbs hooked the outside of the thin material while the rest of his fingers dipped to the inside and lifted. The backs of his knuckles skimmed her hips and then her waist, causing gooseflesh to rise on her flesh at the feather-light touch. The quickening of her pulse and tingles that lit in her body felt right. This was what being with a man was supposed to be like, or maybe this was better, because she wanted each caress to go on forever.

“Lift yer arms.” Then, his mouth was on hers again, drowning any reservations she had as his tongue moved over hers and stole her inhibitions. His lips dipped to her neck, where he nibbled and sucked until she barely felt the slow rise of her shift and forgot any embarrassment as the sensations took her away.

He trailed slow, warm kisses up her neck. Reaching her ear, he nibbled at the lobe. Once, fire shot through her, twice, a need took hold in a way she’d never experienced. Heat pooled at her core as her body recognized that she shouldn’t fear what she was feeling but should embrace it. Arching, she rose on her toes again, laying bare her desire for him and admitting that she had succumbed to his touch.

“Trust me, wife.” And that one word pulled her under—the word that said she belonged to him—for truly in that moment she did. The outside world had washed away as if only her husband and she were alive. She nodded.

Continuing with his attentions, he drew her shift up. Her body followed his will and that of the fabric. She wasn’t sure what had happened with her undergarment, but his arms had returned to circle around her. Her breasts tightened and felt full as his hard chest rubbed against her.

A slight movement backward had her thighs hitting the soft surface of the bed. His hands lowered to her hips, guiding her down, giving her instructions with his movements. Stepping away, his heated stare trapped her eyes in his. What she saw there awoke the primal woman in her, and she felt as if she held all the control, not this powerful man who towered over her with the authority of a stone fortress.

Feeling confident, she started to back onto the mattress, an invitation for him to join her. He withdrew the pin from the plaid still wrapped around his waist.

Her mouth watered, and she was certain her eyes rounded as her pulse raced. He put one knee on the bed and climbed on after her. Lowering onto his side, his hand reached out, fingers forking into her hair as he drew her in for another kiss.

As their mouths danced in a tangled bliss, his leg gently rested on top of hers and wedged itself between her thighs, spreading them apart with a slow, deliberate ease. His stiff rod poked her upper leg, and instead of it scaring her, she moved into it, welcoming the part of him that might give some relief to the pressure building in her center.

His mouth continued to devour hers as his palm slid from her nape, down her shoulder, to her breast, where it stopped. He cupped the engorged flesh and she bucked into his touch as new sensations awoke inside her. His lips broke free from hers as his dilated hazel gaze watched her. He worked to control his breath, then a small hungry smile curved up before his head dipped again.

Those tempting lips didn’t land on her mouth but the peak of her breast, kissing, then sucking. She gasped, and he nipped at the tender skin as his hand dipped lower, reaching the spot where her core met her leg. He drew lazy circles on the spot as his mouth continued to work magic. She tilted her hips into his touch, seeking more than the tingles that had erupted at his teasing.

“Finlay.” The rasping plea came from somewhere deep inside.

His hand stopped moving.

Nae, she didn’t want him to stop.

And the ravenous stare he gave her proved he didn’t want to stop, either. He joined her mouth with his in an intensity that had not been there before. It was as if he, too, was feeling this all-encompassing desire that threatened to leave her forever wanting if he didn’t sate her torturous desire.

Suddenly, strong fingers glided up and down her passage, and to her surprise, they slid back and forth as if they were in the water. When his finger circled the nub above her slit, teasing, it drove her mad with a need she’d never felt before. Gasping into his mouth, she reached up and clutched his arm, pleading for more. He removed his hand just as she felt something was about to burst.

Shifting, he rose, leaving her cold and wanting. Wishing for his lips back on hers, his touch to soothe the sweet ache between her legs. He positioned himself between her legs and moved his rod up and down like his fingers had, and she found the slickness was still there. The friction of the flesh at her most intimate area heated her even more.

His gaze steady on hers, he guided his swollen staff slowly into her passage. It didn’t hurt. Quite the opposite. The pressure massaged her channel and felt nice…no, that wasn’t the word for it. Heavenly, because surely this pleasure was more than anything she’d ever imagined, at least until he buried himself deep inside her and rocked his hips back and forth.

She gasped as her fingers dug into his hips, drawing him farther in. A pulse burst through her, a delicious warning that there would be more. Another, and her mouth fell open.

Then, they assaulted her, one sinfully pleasurable wave after another. And she was panting as she fell into a sweet oblivion where nothing existed except the ecstasy that had devoured her.

He cried out, continuing to drive harder. Then he slowed, but his breath became ragged as he collapsed onto his elbow, just barely stopping before putting the whole of his weight on top of her.

Shifting onto his side, he lay beside her, tracing the curves of her flesh. She’d had no idea being intimate with a man could feel so right.

…

Maybe it was that he’d spilled his seed inside Blair, but Finlay had never longed to stay so near a woman after being intimate with her. He found himself in new territory, not wanting to move from his wife’s side and wishing for nothing more than to fall asleep and wake in the same position, to start all over again.

After a few moments of blissful silence as they lay cradled in each other’s arms, he thought she had almost drifted off until her stomach rumbled.

“Come, wife.” Och, he enjoyed calling her that. Sliding his arm from under her and placing a soft kiss on her forehead, he rose. “Ye need some food in yer belly. I cannae have my servants thinking I’ve starved ye upon our arrival tomorrow.”

What he left unsaid was that she might need her strength to deal with the potentially dire straits of his estate.

Blair inched from the bed, holding the blanket to her bare body as she searched for something, possibly her shift. He considered kicking it under the bed so she never found it—he thought he might like to dine nude with her.

And maybe one day he would, but for now he wanted her to be comfortable. Reaching down, he picked up the garment. “Blair.”

She pivoted toward him, and when he threw it over, she dropped the blanket to expose the creamy expanse of her pale, petite form, and he wanted to toss her back on the bed to plunge into her once again.

He refrained. Peeling his gaze away to give her a moment of privacy, he walked back over to the table, where the food still sat cooling on the tray. Sitting down, he picked up a cup of ale and took a big swig. It was smooth and hearty, better than the watered-down ale typically found in England.

Blair joined him and took a sip from her own cup. “I didnae realize how thirsty I’d become.”

She picked up a fork and started moving the food around on her plate as if she were a child, making hills and trenches to ready little toy soldiers for battle.

He laughed. “What are ye doing, lass?”

“I have to get the cheese out of the way. Everything else looks fine.”

“And what did the cheese do to offend ye?”

“It makes me ill. I’ve never been able to have it.”

“I thought ye liked cheese. ’Tis why I’ve been trying to feed it to ye.” He took a gulp of ale.

“Nae, it makes me feel unwell.”

“Well then, I willnae order it for ye anymore.” Taking her plate, he turned it sideways and used his fork to push it onto his plate.

“Do I need to send for a new plate?”

“Nae, ’twill be fine.”

Nodding, he took a bit of the meat and savored the roasted flavor.

“Thank ye for apologizing before. I ken ’tis a hard thing for a man to do.”

“Well, get used to it. I’m sure I’ll do plenty wrong.”

She laughed, deepening the blush on her cheeks, still flushed from their exertions.

“I’ll have to find something to apologize for everyday, if it is a prelude to what we just did.”

“Does it always feel like that?”

“Let’s hope it does.”

“Ye have done it before?”

“Aye, but no’ many times, and I have only spilled my seed inside ye.”

“I didnae think I would ever enjoy bed play, but I think I would like to do it again.”

His cock jumped at her confession. That was good to hear, because he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop.

…

The next morning, sun shone in the window as Finlay woke his wife in the way he’d wanted to for the last couple of weeks. He lifted her shift, took her in his arms, whispered what he was going to do, then watched her blush. Then, he’d proceeded to claim her, and once her willing body shattered beneath his, he let his seed once again fill her.

As she lay nestled in the crook of his arm, contentment washed over him, along with an overwhelming need to keep her safe. He breathed her in now; the lavender scent of her was a heady and calming balm.

His thoughts drifted to Bruce Graham. The man was a snake. Bruce had deserted his cousin, Henry, in the midst of the battle that took the life of the man who would have wed Blair. Finlay was thankful things had played out the way they had and she would no longer have to worry with either of the blackguards.

It struck him then why the snake must have given his wife such an insidious ultimatum. Before Finlay had left Edinburgh, he’d heard the Graham men discussing Bruce’s fate as a deserter. He was to be exiled from the Graham clan. The arse no longer had a home. The vile man must have been seeking a way to redeem himself with his clan, and securing the loyalty of the Macnabs might have earned him that boon.

There was a soft knock on the door. Pulling the covers over Blair to hide her, he rose, wrapped a plaid around his waist, and pulled open the door. A bevy of servants carried a tray with the breakfast meal and the other items he’d requested the evening before.

He noticed immediately the cheese on both plates. “May we have another plate brought up without cheese? And a small basin with some fresh water and a cloth.”

A man nodded and hurried away.

The other servants came in and placed the requested items on the chair.

“’Tis all for now. Thank ye.” After shutting the door behind them and latching it, he strolled back over to the bed.

“Are ye hungry, wife?”

“Aye, but I feel as if I could stay in bed all day.”

Och, if only they didn’t have to get home and finalize delivering his message—he would be happy to spend the entire day having her make those delicious noises as he drove into her. “There is nothing I’d rather be doing as well, but we have to get moving.”

Sitting up, she stretched and gave a sleepy sigh. She was beautiful in the morning, her hair falling around her shoulders, slightly mussed from sleep and their bed play.

Sliding from under the covers, she stood and strolled to the table to join him. If England weren’t on the brink of war, he would turn her around and march her right back to his quiet little cottage on Cameron lands. He wanted to spare her from the jealousy and plots of his brothers. But all he could do now was hope his family would be on their best behavior.