Page 70 of The Highlander's Twisted Deal
They tumbled untidily onto the bed, Ava laughing giddily. Callum growled under his breath, diving forward to press kisses to the base of her throat, carefully to avoid the thin line of red where Marcus’s blade had nicked her skin.
It would scar, she thought absently, her head tilted back and her eyes half-closed, but somehow, it didn’t seem to be the worst thing in the world.
Callum’s hands trailed down to where her dress rucked up around her hips, sliding warm, calloused hands along her bare thighs. He pulled her close, his arm firm and unyielding, and she felt his muscles tense against her. It sent a shiver of desire down her spine.
“Are ye sure?” he whispered, his voice low and raspy.
“Aye,” she breathed. He touched her as he had before, and she let the sensations overtake her again.
“Oh, good,” he murmured, his voice a growl now. “Because as I said before, ye are mine, lass. Mine and nobody else’s. Nobody else can touch ye like this, nobody but me.”
“Nobody but ye,” she repeated, sensations pinging down her back, the desire pricking underneath her spine until it was almost unbearable.
This time, he stopped before she reached her climax, and she opened her eyes, disappointment and a dizzy sort of bewilderment rolling around in her mind.
“I take it, having birthed many babies,” he said, his voice sounding almost hoarse, “ye ken where everything goes?”
She snorted. “How can a lassie resist such romance?”
He laughed, leaning forward to kiss her again. Ava wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.
He was careful when he slipped inside her. It was a strange sensation, one that took Ava a moment or two to adjust to. She shifted, the pressure inside turning to something more pleasurable. He began to move, and a sharp jolt of something wonderful shot through her. She sucked in a breath, her eyes widening, and he grinned down at her, almost smugly.
Callum moved slowly, deliberately, until Ava was almost dying with impatience for him to move faster. She hooked her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper and faster, rolling her hips forward to meet his, pulling them together as if she might die if they parted. She heard him stifle gasps and heard her moans echo in the silent room.
She felt her climax approaching rapidly, more powerful than before, and she dug her fingers into Callum’s shoulders at the height of it. He smiled against her lips, pressing the barest of kisses to her skin.
He finished soon after, gasping her name and gathering her tightly to him. They lay still for a moment or two, regaining their breaths and holding each other close.
He moved back, grinning at her, and she felt the urge to giggle madly, like a lunatic.
“I love ye, Ava,” he repeated, breathless with desire. “I cannae even remember what me life was like before ye were here.”
She giggled again. “I remember whatmelife was like. Sometimes, I’d sit around and think, ‘hmm, me life is missing a great, strapping brute, handsome as ye, who badly needs a haircut and willnae get one and is far too sharp for his own good’. And then, ye arrived. An answer to me prayers, if ye like.”
He snorted. “I thinkyeare too sharp for yer own good.”
With some maneuvering—the bed was certainly too small for two—they managed to find a comfortable position on the mattress, with Callum on his back and Ava curled up on her side around him. The events of the past few days came crashing down on her, and suddenly, it was too much effort to keep her eyes open.
Callum smoothed back her hair from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. “Go to sleep, love,” he said drowsily. “It’s all right. I’m here. We’re safe up here. No one can harm ye. No one would wish ye harm.”
“Patrick McCarthy might.”
“Oh, him. I thought he’d taken ye, at first. I was going to march right to his Keep and kill him. I’d have had his head if I had to start a war to do it.”
Ava sat bolt upright. “Ye were going to dowhat?”
The End?
