Page 54 of A Scot for Bethan
A whimper betrayed her readiness. She started to roll onto her back, ready to offer him the treasure he craved. He stopped her with both hands at her waist and took a moment to admire her. Sat astride him, with her lips swollen from sucking on him, her breasts bared, and her stomach gently curved with his child, she had never been more alluring.
“I love you.”
She smiled. “I love you too.”
“Now, my lady. It seems to me you that you quite liked being on your knees, so that’s where you’ll stay.”
In one move, he lifted her off his lap, to bring her nearer the wall. At the same time, he slid down the bed. Aye, perfect. The backs of her thighs were now pressed against his shoulders andher sweet, feminine folds were hovering just above his face. He could see the proof that licking him had sent her wild with need and his mouth started to water at the idea of tasting the desire he had awoken in her. Pleasuring him pleased her as much as pleasuring her pleased him, it seemed. A growl escaped his throat. What had he done to deserve such a wild woman, such a wonderful wife?
“Yes,” Bethan cried out when she understood what he had in mind. This was a new position, but something he had wanted to try for a while, and judging from the hoarseness in her voice, she was all too happy to indulge him.
“Hold on to the bed frame if you need to. I’m going to lick you until you come in my mouth and when you think you can’t move, I’ll have recovered enough to take you as hard and fast as I need.” He was so aroused it wouldn’t take his cock long to recover from its shattering release. “You won’t have to do a thing. I’ll lie you down on your stomach and?—”
“Cameron, stop talking, damn you! Didn’t you promise to lick me? Do it.”
Ever the bold vixen, Bethan grabbed a fistful of his hair and lowered herself onto his waiting mouth. Well, that was one way of shutting him up, he supposed. He groaned when her scent hit him and then closed his eyes when her taste exploded on his tongue.
Cameron was in heaven, doing what he loved best, surrendering to his lover’s will. He would make sure to send them both to the stars and back.
And then he would make her his wife at last.
Chapter Sixteen
Two weeks after their wedding, Bethan and Cameron rode in through the gate of Castell Esgyrn at sunset, taking everyone by surprise. On the way they had first stopped at Castell y Ddraig to inform her brother of the events of the last few months. It was more than time she told Siaspar what had happened to her since they had last seen one another. Caught in the whirlwind of events of the past three months, she had not found the time or the courage to write. It had seemed harsh to shower him with the distressing news of Dougal’s death, of her near abductions, of her carrying a child who would never know its real father—and have nothing good to add to mitigate the news. Then when William had offered to marry her, she had elected to wait until they were wed before traveling to Wales and assure her brother in person that all was well, or at least as well as it could be under the circumstances.
Now she was able to do even better and tell him she had married the man of her dreams and was going to start her family in a place she loved.
William, who’d become fast friends with Cameron, had insisted on accompanying them. Having known the Hunter family nearly all his life, he wished to see their seat in Wales atlast. This was as good an opportunity as any and they had been more than happy to have him travel with them.
The three of them reached her brother’s castle one sunny morning, and found Siaspar in the bailey, talking to his friend Rhodri. Heart bursting with joy, Bethan dismounted and ran up to him.
“Chwaer!” The term of endearment that had burst out at the sight of her, the one she had feared never to hear again, died on his lips. Instead of drawing her into the embrace she had expected, Siaspar held her at arms’ length, fury distorting his face. “Tell me who dared to do that to you.”
For a moment, Bethan wondered what he was talking about. Who had done what? Then it hit her. Of course, the scar! How could she have forgotten how she looked now, and how it would appear to him? William never passed any comments and Cameron never looked at her any differently than he had in the summer, making her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Because of that, it was easy for her to imagine herself looking the way she had before she cut herself.
Except that she did not, and she had worried her brother.
“It’s nothing,” she soothed, berating herself for her lack of foresight. “I should?—”
“It’s not nothing! Didhehurt you thus?” he asked her, glaring at Cameron, who was standing by his horse, waiting patiently. Though he didn’t understand Welsh yet, he would have guessed what her brother was saying. Still, as he had nothing to blame himself for, he appeared as calm as ever. “Or your damned Scottish husband? Is that him, by the black horse? He’s a dead man if he?—”
“No, this is not Dougal. I will explain about the scar in due time.” It would not be an easy conversation, but she owed him the truth. It wasn’t fair to allow him to place blame on Cameron or anyone else for something she had done herself. “But first letme introduce you to Sir William Parry, my friend from Sheridan Manor.”
Siaspar nodded, marginally appeased. He had heard much about the man over the years, and knew how close the two of them were. “Welcome to Castell y Ddraig. It is good to finally meet you. My laird, welcome back.”
“Thank you,” the two men said in unison.
“But what are you doing here?” Siaspar asked next. “Is there?—”
“If we can have a drink first, I promise to tell you all.”
A moment later, around a table laden with delicacies, Bethan explained everything. There was no need to hide the truth, she was with the three men who loved her most in the world and they would not judge her. By the time she had finished, her brother was no longer glaring at Cameron, even if he was having difficulty suppressing his ire at the thought of all she’d had to endure.
“Welcome to the family,” he said, raising his cup to him. “I will admit I am relieved to see Bethan never married the Scot.”
“Well, I am a Scot, in case you hadn’t noticed,” her husband answered with a side smile—and a stronger than usual accent.
“You know what I mean.”
