“Ye’re a feast fer the eyes, wife,” he murmured, simply sitting on his haunches looking at her. “Ye’re hair looks afire and shadows are painting yer skin.”
Her energy was slowly returning now, enough for her to start to feel embarrassed at just lying there with him looking at her, and Edith slid one hand up his leg, toward his groin. She never made contact. Niels immediately shifted to lie next to her on his side.
Bracing his head on his hand with his elbow on the furs, he smiled. “Recovering, are ye?”
Edith nodded, and touched his face gently.
“Would ye like more?” Niels asked, running one hand lightly along her thigh.
Breath catching in her throat, Edith hesitated, but when his hand stopped just before it would have found her, she gave a jerky nod.
“Aye,” Niels breathed, letting his fingers glide up between the protective folds to touch her. He ran one finger gently over her and Edith closed her eyes and moaned.
“I love it when ye let me hear yer pleasure,” he said softly, strumming his finger over her again and bringing about another one. “And I love how wet ye get fer me. As if yer body’s weeping fer me to love ye.”
“Aye,” Edith groaned, her hips beginning to shift into his caress, and then she stilled as he pressed a finger into her. Her eyes flew open, and she peered at him. “Niels, please.”
“Please what, love?” Niels asked, sliding his finger back out and then caressing her with his thumb as it slid back in. “Do ye like this?”
“Aye,” she gasped, writhing under his touch.
“I do too. I like how yer body clings to me, it wants me in ye.”
“Aye,” Edith groaned.
“Do ye want me in ye, love?”
“Oh, God, aye!” she cried, thrusting violently up into his caresses now.
“Find yer pleasure fer me, love, and I’ll take ye.” This time he didn’t give her a chance to reply, but leaned forward to claim her mouth with his and began thrusting his tongue into her in time with the finger below. The hand that had been holding up his head then dropped to caress and knead her breast at the same time and finally pinched her nipple. And that was when Edith began to shudder, her body quaking as she screamed into his mouth.
And suddenly Niels was on top of her. She didn’t notice the shift until he was thrusting into her and she felt the difference. This wasn’t his finger. This was much bigger. She felt the slightest pinch and then he was in, filling her and forcing her body to accommodate him. Edith cried out again and clutched at his shoulders, her hips still thrusting as her pleasure continued to pulse from her core, clinging and squeezing him.
Niels groaned through his teeth and thrust back repeatedly, and then he suddenly rose up, caught her legs by the ankles and drew them over his shoulders. Edith gaped up at him in surprise and then cried out when he reached down to where they were joined to continue to caress her; it prolonged her body’s response as he rode the wave he’d caused. For Edith it seemed to go on forever and she was sure she couldn’t take it, that her heart would stop or she’d simply die there underneath him, overwhelmed by so much sensation.
Just when she thought that, Niels stiffened above her, his body plunging so deep she cried out with it, and then she scored his back with her nails and screamed as her pleasure intensified and then shattered.
Edith woke to find it was daylight and she was lying with her head on Niels’s chest as he lazily caressed her back. She lay still, simply enjoying it for a moment, and then let him know she was awake by blurting, “I felt a pinch when ye—” She paused abruptly, unwilling to put words to what they’d been doing.
Fortunately, Niels seemed to understand exactly when she’d felt the pinch without her saying so, because he hugged her briefly and said, “Sorry, wife. They do say the first time is painful for the lass.”
“The first time?” Edith asked with surprise, lifting her head to peer at him. “But I thought—There was blood on the linen and . . .” Her voice trailed away to silence as he began to chuckle. Eyebrows rising, she asked, “What is so funny, my lord husband?”
“What ye thought was blood on the linens was the preserves, lass,” he explained with amusement.
“The preserves?” she echoed, and then her eyes widened as she recalled Magda’s advice and what she’d done with Jaimie’s preserves.
“Aye,” he said with a faint smile. “It got on the bed when I laid ye in it after ye lost consciousness. By morning it had dried and looked enough like blood that we hung the linen. That way ye’d be protected did Brodie return ere our marriage was consummated and try to have it annulled.”
“Oh,” she breathed and lowered her head to his chest, her mind whirling with thoughts. She’d thought he’d consummated the marriage while she was unconscious, but he hadn’t. Niels had found another way to protect her.
“’Tis morning,” he murmured suddenly.
Smiling, Edith shook her head slightly where it lay, and let her hand glide down to his hip. “Nay. ’Tis still night, husband,” Edith said as she let her hand slide to claim his semi-erect manhood.
“Again?” He sounded amused, but his voice was also husky. She was beginning to recognize that as a sign that he wanted her. Although she would have known anyway since he immediately hardened fully in her hand.
“Aye. Again,” Edith said, caressing him.
“Greedy,” he accused, but sounded pleased and the hand at her back drifted down to squeeze her bottom, before drifting between her legs from behind to tease her.
Edith moaned and kissed his chest appreciatively. They had been in bed ever since he’d walked in on her bath the afternoon before. Well, really they had not been in the bed the whole time. She’d been on the table, then they’d been on the fur, then he’d carried her to the bed and made love to her again before they’d drifted off. They’d woken up several times in the night, each time reaching for each other again.
In truth, Edith couldn’t seem to get enough of him. The pleasure he gave her was heady, and she just wanted more and more. She wanted to learn more too. Edith hadn’t known there were so many positions and so many different things to do. And with each new position, her confidence grew and she became bolder.
“We need to talk first,” Niels growled, but his fingers continued to fondle her, and he didn’t stop her caressing him.
“Aye. Talk,” she murmured, shifting her head so that she could lick and then nip at his nipple.
Niels groaned, but then caught her hand and dragged it from his erection before grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her up and away from him. Expression serious, he said, “We really do need to talk, Edith. ’Tis important.”
She considered his face for a moment, and then sighed and nodded.
“Thank ye,” he murmured and then shifted to sit up in bed with his back against the wall.
“What for?” Edith asked uncertainly, shifting to sit next to him.
“Had ye pressed the issue, I could no’ have resisted loving ye again, and this is important,” he promised her.
For a moment, Edith was tempted to press the issue after all, but he’d said it was important and his expression had turned grim, so she behaved herself and tugged the linens up to cover herself as she waited for him to begin.
“Rory came to me yesterday afternoon,” he began in a soft voice.
“Aye, when we returned from the market,” she said.
Niels nodded. “He had something o’ a plan to catch the killer.”
“Really?” she asked with interest. “Tell me.”
He hesitated, and then sighed and said, “His plan was fer ye to die.”
“What?” Edith squawked, jumping to her knees to gawk at him with disbelief.
“Aye, that was me reaction,” Niels said dryly. “But his thinking was that we fake ye dying, lay ye out here as if ye’ve been cleaned and prepared fer burial and then see who steps forward to try to claim Drummond.”
Edith shook her head. “That will no’ work. We already ken that Tormod would be the next in line and I am quite sure he is no’ the one behind all o’ this. So if the killer is really after Drummond, they may be just trying to make him look guilty so that he is blamed for everything and hung, leaving them to make a claim for the title.” She frowned and added, “And if we fake me death and then do no’ accuse Tormod the killer may just kill him to get him out o’ the way.”
“Aye,” Niels grimaced. “Well, that was no’ me argument, but ’tis all true.”
“What was yer argument?” Edith asked curiously.
“That I’d no’ risk ye that way,” he said solemnly. “I pointed out that the murderer might slip into yer room while we had ye laid out pretending to be dead and stab ye or some such thing when they realized ye were still breathing.”
“Oh, aye,” she said weakly. “That would be unfortunate.”
“Most unfortunate,” Niels agreed dryly, and then sighed and admitted, “But as we talked I came up with an idea o’ me own.”
“Oh?” Edith asked with interest. “What is that?”