Page 72 of The Outlaw's Bride
A chill night settled over Duntulm, bringing with it a seeking wind that shrieked across the bare hills outside, rattled the shutters, and moaned against the walls. Despite the keep’s thick exterior, the wind still managed to push its way inside. A draft feathered across Lachlann’s face as he mounted the stairs to the chamber that he and Adaira would share tonight.
As man and wife.
He opened the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. Adaira was there, awaiting him. She stood before the fire, dressed in a sheer léine that reached her ankles. He could see the outline of her lithe form against the orange glow of the flames behind her. Adaira’s long brown hair was unbound and brushed. It fell in heavy waves down her back.
Wordlessly, she turned from the fire, her gaze meeting his.
Lachlann pushed the door closed and leaned against it, drinking her in.
Adaira’s loveliness took his breath away. He noticed then the large bed that dominated the chamber; he’d not even seen it when he opened the door, for his attention had been wholly upon Adaira. A bank of candles burned in one corner of the room, bathing the space in golden light.
“The Devil take me … ye are a bonny sight,” Lachlann murmured finally. His gaze left her face, noting the sensual smile that curved her lips, and moved down her body. He could see the outline of her nipples through the léine’s thin fabric.
“Come here, Aingeal,” he rasped.
Her smile widened, her eyes glowing in the firelight. Still not speaking, Adaira padded barefoot across the flagstones toward him. Lachlann noted then that someone had scattered rose petals over the floor.
When she drew close, Lachlann reached out and hauled her into his arms. His mouth slanted over hers in a deep, possessive kiss. One hand slid up her neck, tangling in her hair, while the other splayed across the small of her back.
Adaira moaned against his mouth. Her fingers dug into his chest through his léine, and she kissed him back with abandon.
Lachlann spun Adaira round and pressed her up against the door. Then he reached down and grabbed the hem of her léine, yanking it up, and stripping it from her. His mouth never leaving hers, he ripped off his own clothing.
Adaira’s fingers fumbled as she aided him. And then they were both naked, pressed up against the door, savaging each other’s mouths as if they’d been separated for weeks. Need pulsed through Lachlann, made his blood catch fire. His ache for her drove all other thought from his mind.
Their first coupling on the journey here had ignited a hunger within him that he felt would never be sated.
He could never get enough of this woman.
Adaira trailed kisses across his face before gently biting his earlobe. A thrill of pleasure knifed through Lachlann’s groin, intensifying the ache there till it was almost unbearable.
Lachlann’s hands explored her nakedness: the long length of her back, the plane of her belly, and her lush high breasts that strained toward him.
Slipping his hands under Adaira’s buttocks, Lachlann picked her up and stepped away from the door. Then he turned and carried her over to the bed before lowering her down onto it.
Positioning himself between her legs, he parted her trembling thighs and thrust deep, seating himself fully inside her. Adaira gave a hoarse cry, bucking hard against him as she wrapped her legs around his hips and drew him closer still. The sensation, the heat of her, almost undid him; he threw back his head and groaned.
Slow down.
He needed to pace himself or this would be over too quickly. He wanted to savor this moment, their first coupling as man and wife.
Adaira arched back, her lips parting. “This feels too good,” she moaned. “My heart could stop from it.”
He laughed softly. “I hope not, Aingeal, for I have plans for ye.”
He gazed down at Adaira as she lay upon the soft woolen coverlet. Her hair fanned out like a cloud around her, and she stared up at him with such naked want in her eyes that Lachlann almost forgot his resolve to go slowly.
He took hold of both her legs now and raised them so she could hook her knees over his shoulders. Then he rocked against her, taking Adaira in long, slow thrusts, and watching her face as he did so.
Adaira’s chest heaved with each movement. Her high pink-tipped breasts, full for such a slender woman, bounced with each thrust, straining toward him. Later, he’d suckle them until she begged for mercy, but right now he just wanted to watch the pleasure that dilated her pupils and made her cheeks flush.
He wanted to make her lose control and cry his name as she did so.
“Lachlann!” Adaira arched up against him and brought him deeper still. Her mouth opened in shock as the angle touched a sensitive place deep inside her. Lachlann watched, drinking her in as her body shook from the force of it. Heat enveloped his shaft, and he felt her contract against him.
Pleasure slammed into him. It was too much. He’d tried to hold back, but he wasn’t made of stone. Lachlann gave a hoarse cry and drove into Adaira once more, giving himself up to it.
Adaira sighed and rolled onto her side. She reached out, her hand sliding down Lachlann’s sweat-slicked torso. That was the third time they’d made love that night, but it had barely taken the edge off the hunger she felt for him.
