True to the Highlander(77)

“Worry?” She put her hands on either side of his face and placed a kiss on his furrowed brow. “Why worry, Malcolm?”

“I worry about your safety, our future. Dinna think for one moment I enjoy going off to do battle, for I dinna. I crave peace and wish only to raise our crops and kine so that none of my people go hungry. I want to raise my bairns—”

“Our bairns.” She held one of his hands with both of hers.

He gave her a heart-stopping grin. “Aye, our bairns. Let us speak no more of worry. I’ve a deflowering to attend to.”

“Malcolm,” she gasped. “I cannot believe you said that.”

He lifted her in his arms and moved to the bed, where he laid her down upon the furs and covered her body with his. Propping himself up on his elbows, he gazed down at her. “Unless you dinna wish…”

“Oh, I wish.” She drew him down for a kiss, savoring the feeling of being enveloped by his large body. He rolled onto his unwounded side and held her close, ravishing the inside of her mouth while tugging and pulling at the fabric covering her body.

“Woman, where are you in all of this silk?” He managed to get her robe off, before getting tangled up in the gown.

She laughed, joy spilling out of her heart and into her voice. “Here, let me.” She untangled herself and climbed down from the bed. Untying the ribbon holding the gown closed in the front, she let it slide slowly down her body, watching Malcolm’s reaction as the heat of another blush rose to her cheeks. His quick intake of breath and the look of awe on his face pleased her and made her bold. “Now you.”

She smiled as he leaped from the bed to comply. Standing before her, he untied the velvet robe and let it fall to the floor with a whoosh. Proudly he stood before her, his broad chest, taut muscled torso, and jutting manhood standing at attention. Impressive.

“Oh, Malcolm. You’re so…”

“Virile?” He grinned.

“So…”

“Well formed? Comely?”

“You are all of those things.” She reached out to touch his chest with one hand. “But none are what I was going to say.” She bit her lower lip.

“What then?” His brow furrowed with uncertainty.

“You’re so hairy,” she whispered, tangling her fingers in the hair on his chest. “I love it.” She sighed. Malcolm threw his head back and laughed as he brought her back into his embrace, and she could easily sense the joy spilling from his heart into his voice as well.

“Aye, well, remember you said that when it tickles you in the middle of the night. Sweet wife, give your husband a kiss.”

Skin to warm skin, Alethia lifted her face. His tongue tasted every inch of the inside of her mouth and tangled with hers. A flood of love, desire and tenderness swept through her entire body. Pressing herself as close to him as she possibly could, Alethia tangled her fingers in his golden hair and let the pent up need for his touch overtake her senses in a heady rush. “Malcolm…”

Somehow he managed to maneuver them back onto the bed, his body covering hers. Alethia loved the feeling it gave her. In his arms she felt cherished, protected. Malcolm’s hands, though large, scarred and callused, moved over her skin with exquisite tenderness. She ached for more.

He trailed kisses and licks down her neck to her shoulder. “I want to taste every delectable part of you.” His mouth moved to her collarbone, while his thumbs stroked soft circles around her sensitive nipples, sending bolts of electricity down through the center of her body and taking her breath away.

Bending toward her, his mouth took over for his thumbs, his tongue circling around one nipple, then the other, while one hand sought the sensitive flesh between her thighs. Alethia nearly came up off the bed.

Malcolm stopped and turned himself onto his side. Her breathing came fast and heavy. Propping himself up on one elbow, his gaze moved slowly down her body from the top of her head down to her toes.

“Why did you stop? Malcolm, does your wound hurt? We can—”

“’Tis not my arm that pains me, lass.” The desire in his eyes increased the throbbing sensation between her legs. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his groin and placed it on his erection. “Here is where I ache for you, mo cridhe. I want this to be good for you. I…I need to slow down, or I’ll lose control.” He took a deep breath.

She wrapped her hand around him, reveling in the heat, the hardness and the velvet-soft skin. Rubbing her thumb over the tip, she stroked him to the base, then lower. He groaned, and his body tightened beside her. His hand returned to the place where she longed for his touch. “Please, Malcolm. I can’t wait any longer.” She opened her thighs wider. Desperate, her hips rose with every sweet stroke of his fingers against her aroused flesh.