Page 60 of Plaid Attitude
Smiling, he turned in her arms, and wrapped his own arms around her. “Well, Lady Oliphant? Are ye enjoying yer nuptial feast?”
“I’m stuffed.” She tipped her head back to smile up at him, and he decided he’d never seen anything half as beautiful. “And tired, and verra, verra happy.”
“Are ye?” He bent to nuzzle her neck. “Could ye be happier?”
Humming slightly, she tilted her head to one side so he’d have better access. “I could think of a way I could be happier.”
“Aye?”
She grinned wickedly. “I could be stuffed withye.”
He burst into laughter and whisked her out of the crush in the center of the hall. He scooped her up, then hurried toward the stairs.
Breathless with giggles, she held him tight around the neck. “Where are ye taking me, husband?”
As the clan burst into cheers behind them, he winked. “To bed, my love.”
* * *
Coira tippedher head to one side as she allowed her new husband to kiss his way down her neck to her shoulder. He paid particular attention to the little divot of her collarbone, and when his tongue swept across her skin, she shivered.
By the Virgin, this man knew her body so well!
Although he’d resisted marrying her, Doughall hadn’t minded sharing her bed these last weeks, and they’d explored one another in all the best ways.
“Hmmm.” His hands were at her sides, slowly pulling up her skirts. “Have I told ye how much I love to see ye in a gown, love?”
A spike of her old defensiveness caused her to stiffen. “Braies are more practical.”
“’Tis unnatural, to hide yer legs in tubes.” He didn’t lift his head from his ministrations, but she could hear the teasing lilt to his tone. “Much more hygienic to allow yer bits freedom and access to the elements.”
As if to prove his point, his cock gave a little jump against her belly, and she had to smile in response.
“Aye, I suppose there’s some benefit to skirts—”
Her agreement was cut off with a gasp, because at that moment, Doughall had succeeded in pulling her gown up the full way, and his fingers found her curls.
Without hesitation, he stroked her, and a flood of desire was her body’s only possible response.
He chuckled as his right hand went to work on her ties. She helped him—he couldn’t very well cease what hislefthand was doing, could he?—although she had to keep stopping to revel in the sensations coursing through her.
When her chemise dropped around her shoulders—his hand between her legs was the only thing keeping her clothing up now—he immediately lowered his mouth to her left breast, and her hips thrust forward on their own accord, as if trying to pull him deeper inside.
The movement must’ve unbalanced him, because his upper half tipped forward as she arched her back, and had his other arm not snaked around her, they might’ve both fallen backwards.
When his head rose, he was chuckling. “What say ye we move someplace safer?”
“Like where?” she gasped, still in a haze of throbbing need.
“’Tis possibleanywherewould be safer, but I was thinking the bed.”
“The bed, aye.” She would’ve agreed to anything at that point. “And yer boots…”
Luckily, he knew what she was saying, because by the time she reached the edge of the bed,sansclothing, he’d kicked off his boots, pulled his shirt from over his head, and was unbuckling his belt.
She opened her arms to him, and as his kilt fell behind him, he came to her on the bed.
They fell, wrapped around each other, and her legs instinctively opened.
