Page 93 of The Last Debutante
She waited for the inevitable, for him to say he needed time to think—or perhaps he would be more blunt than that.
“Daria,” he said, and she closed her eyes, unable to bear the weight of the words if she looked at him.
“Daria, I donna care,” he said softly.
Daria opened her eyes. “You’remadnot to care.”
“Aye, well I know it. But I donna care. I love you,leannan.It doesna matter to me.”
She quickly pressed her fingers against his mouth. “Ofcourseit matters. Your clan—”
He jerked her hand from his mouth. “My clan will accept it or they will no’. And if they donna, they may answer to Geordie as their laird.”
Her breath caught. “You don’tmeanthat,” she pleaded. “You have the opportunity to marry a lovely Scottish—”
“God in heaven, lass, listen to what I say!” He slid his hand to the nape of her neck. “Today I told Isabella I’d no’ marry her. I told her I loved someone else. God as my witness, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I’m no’ losing you. I donna care if you were born of faeries, or are English, or have a barmy grandmother—you’re mine.”
She gaped at him in shock. “You didn’t! Youcouldn’t! Isabella Brodie is a perfect match for you, Jamie. Don’t be a fool—I am sodamaged.”
“I’ll marry you here and now to prove it.”
“Jamie...how can you give up all for me?”
“Donna make it sound like a fairy tale, Daria. I tried no’ to love you—God knows I tried, but I failed miserably. I’ve been plagued with wanting you since I first saw you.”
“Oh dear God,” she whispered, her heart filling with happiness, with hope.
“You said that you thought I could bear anything, aye? Well I canna bear losing you.”
She grabbed his head in her hands. “I love you, too. Fiercely. Completely.”
He wrapped his arms tightly around her and lifted her up to kiss her deeply. Then he picked her up into his arms, walked to the door, and kicked it shut. He went to her bed, falling with her onto it. His hair fell over his brow as he searched her face, his hand lightly caressing it. Then his fingers slipped down to the neckline of her gown. “Aye, lass, I do love you,” he said again, and his knee slipped between her legs as his mouth found her ear. “I didna demand enough ransom for you, I think.”
“I love you,” she whispered and smiled up at him.
Jamie growled his appreciation and moved down her body to her breast, mouthing it through her gown while his free hand found the hem. He slid up her body, rough skin over smooth, setting her skin on fire where he touched her. There was no need for words—their touch was born of bottled-up desire and ravenous need for one another.
Daria was surprised by her willingness to explore him. She felt brave and courageous as she pulled his shirt over his head and put her mouth to his chest. He groaned, then quickly undid the buttons of her gown, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside before standing up and removing his trousers. He was beautifully built, as she knew, his body tall and erect in all aspects.
He gazed down at her and shook his head. “How is it possible for one woman to be so irresistibly enticing,” he said roughly, and came over her again. He took her breast into his mouth, sucking and nipping. He explored her with his hand, his fingers finding every crevice, sinking deep into them. Daria could scarcely draw a breath when he rolled her over onto her stomach and kissed her hips, biting playfully at her flesh.
But then he rolled her onto her back again and slipped in between her legs, his cock brushing against her sex. Daria was wild with desire, and she smiled up at him as she pushed his hair from his face.
She cared about nothing but Jamie. She wanted to love him, to be loved by him, to know this exquisite moment in his arms.
When he whispered“Tha gaol agam ort”in her ear and thrust into her, Daria felt nothing but lightness. As her body adjusted to his, she marveled at how a man and woman could fit together so completely, how a man could move so seductively inside her, tantalizing her with the breadth and the depths to which he smoothly stroked, and she was amazed at how bottomless was the intimacy in this act between lovers.
Now that she understood what it meant to belong to someone, she couldn’t imagine belonging to anyone else but Jamie Campbell. Ever.
Her body seemed to inherently know how to respond to him; her hips lifted to meet his thrusts, her knees squeezing around him. Jamie groaned as he moved deeper inside her, and he slipped his hand between them, stroking her folds as he stroked inside of her, stroking and stroking until Daria felt the tidal wave crashing through her, drawing from her toes and exploding deep within her. Jamie covered her cry of ecstasy with his mouth and quickened his strokes. She heard his moan in his chest, felt his strangled cry as he found his release. It was hot and potent; he filled her completely. And then he collapsed beside her, gathered her tenderly in his arms, and kissed the top of her head.
“Ah, Daria. I love you, I do,” he said breathlessly, and wrapped her in a tight embrace against his chest.
She would have sworn it was impossible to be this happy. She traced her finger across his jaw, but a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Shouldn’t we say something to all those people waiting downstairs?”
“Mary, Queen of Scots, I forgot them!” He laughed.
Twenty-eight
