Page 132 of The Scot Beds His Wife
Raw sounds of animal pleasure crawled up her throat as her climax found her almost instantly.
Breaking the kiss, he pressed his palm over her mouth, muffling her screams as her body clenched tightly around his shaft in pulses of excruciating bliss.
The sounds of his own passion he stifled against her bodice as he jerked and kicked within her, filling her withthe warmth of his release. Her name exploded from him, buried against her chest, against her heart.Bonny. Her new self. The woman he loved. The woman who loved him back.
After, they fought for their breath as the haze of lust became a glow of pleasure.
His wicked smile had returned when he lifted his head to look at her. “Ye know, Bonny, ye still havena accepted my proposal of marriage.”
She met his wicked smile, and raised him one teasing crook of an eyebrow. “I thought my answer didn’t matter. I was under the impression that you’d decided it was happening and no matter what I say, you’ll still drag me home by the hair like a big dumb brute.”
“Well, aye, but it’s still nice to hear the words.”
His answering impudence was so charming, her heart ached with the love it evoked. But she still rolled her eyes, more for effect than out of ire. “Well, obviously I’ll marry you. I love you too much not to.”
He rose up and kissed her, his breath still elevated. “Do ye know when I realized how much I loved ye?” he asked soberly.
She shook her head.
“When I had the deed to Erradale in my hand, and I realized that I’d give it away only to have ye back.”
Her fingers pressed against her mouth, stemming a sob that had arisen there. “Truly?”
“Aye.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Erradale is what I wanted most in my life, until ye came along. Ye were what taught me the difference between a desire, and a necessity. Ye are necessary to me, as I am not a whole man without ye by my side.”
Unable to conjure words to properly express what she felt, she pulled him down to her, pressing her mouth andbody against his. Using the language they’d always spoken so well.
The kiss lasted until they both broke it, more than a little breathless.
“Let me take ye home, and make ye my wife.” He smoothed a hand over her heavy hair, disheveled now by their lovemaking. “Let me make ye my life. Let me make my keep the home of yer heart.”
“Yes,” she finally answered, beaming at her very own magnificent Highlander. “Take me home. To Inverthorne. Only… I have just one question…”
“What is that, my love?”
“Do we have to go by boat?”
He smirked down at her. “Unless ye’ve devised a way to fly over the Channel.”
She winced, plopping her forehead against his hard shoulder. “I was afraid of that.”
EPILOGUE
“It says here the press only just got wind of the Rook’s escape from Newgate as the prison did its best to cover it up.”
Gavin looked up from his ledgers to where his lovely wife read the paper while she nursed their baby girl in the plush chaise by the study fire.
“Canna say the news surprises me,” he remarked. “He didna seem very worried about his status as a prisoner. Nor did he seem the kind to surrender his freedom for any altruistic purposes.” He couldn’t help but watch his wee family smile and coo at each other for a moment.
How precious they were.
It was as though an inner luminescence glowed through both of them, and beckoned to him to take part.
Pushing himself up from his desk, he went to them, lowering onto the chaise and pulling his wife toward him, enticing her to rest against his chest as he encircled them both with protective arms.
Eleanor Alison St. James, or Ellie, as her mother kept referring to her, took a precious moment away from herlunch to smile up at him with eyes that had become a deep, auburn brown.
Gavin offered her flailing hand his finger to clutch, as every time her wee fingers wrapped around his larger one, she gripped his heart, as well.
