Page 69 of A Scot's Pride
“God, wife. Ye have no idea how much I want to finish what ye’ve started, but I want to bury myself inside ye more.”
Bryson gently pushed her back on the bed, climbing onto the mattress and settling himself between her thighs. He rested on an elbow, his face close to hers. He gently kissed her while his shaft probed at her center, sending tendrils of heated pleasure rushing through her.
His fingers traced a path up her thigh to where her core pulsed, and he slipped a finger inside her. Freya lifted her hips, arched her back and moaned, wanting him to go deeper. Wanting more.
“Ye’re so tight,” he murmured. “Does this feel good?”
“Oh, yes,” she crooned as he slipped in another finger, stretching her most deliciously.
He pulled away long enough to flash her a wicked grin. “Och, I love ye. Are ye ready for me?”
“Please,” she sighed.
Bryson took hold of his arousal and slid it along her wet folds, lodging himself at the apex of her thighs, ready to plunge inside. “I’m sorry if I hurt ye, but I’ll go slow.”
Freya leaned up, capturing his mouth with hers as she lifted her thighs around his hips in encouragement. She stroked her tongue over his, and he moaned into her mouth as he pushed inside her, breaking the barrier of her innocence.
There was barely any pain, though her body felt full. Bryson stilled inside of her, kissing her with such passion that any nerves she might have at his invasion were quickly eviscerated, and all she felt was a hunger for more.
“How do ye feel?” His gaze locked on hers.
“Incredible,” she murmured, kissing a path along his neck. “Alive.”
“Mo chridhe.” He kissed her again as he started to move, murmuring, “My heart,” against her lips.
Bryson withdrew from inside her, then pushed inside again and again while his mouth and hands sought out every inch of her skin. He swirled his tongue over her nipple in teasing flicks before drawing it into his mouth.
Freya lifted her hips, rocking in time with her husband’s thrusts, surprised at the pleasurable sensations undulating inside her. She’d not expected it to feel so good... Never thought that pleasure could be more than what they’d had before this.
As she was wrapped in her husband’s arms, his body thrusting in and out of her, Freya let Bryson take her to new heights. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust made her gasp and moan.
Bryson’s thrusts grew faster, his forehead resting on hers as he panted, and kissed her, drew in ragged breaths and groaned. They were frenzied now. Kissing, licking, touching. She could barely catch her breath before another rush of bliss threatened to take complete control of her.
And then, finally, the flutters that had been reaching, reaching, reaching burst. Freya cried out in pleasure as her body tightened and shuddered, pleasure crashing over her again and again. Bryson pumped harder, groaning loudly, and cried out in rapture.
They rode out the waves of their climax together, bodies slick from exertion, panting breaths. When it seemed that the tremors had subsided at last, Bryson rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms. Then he collapsed, rolling to his side and pulling her with him.
He kissed her tenderly on the lips, his hand resting on her hip.
“Now I understand what you meant about making me yours. I quite enjoyed that.” She pressed her finger to the dip in his chin and smiled.
Bryson chuckled. “I’m glad I’ve lived up to my promise.”
“I think it’s safe to say you’ve surpassed it.”
“Even surpassed the heroes in your favorite romance novels?” He raised a brow, and she couldn’t help but tease him.
“Well, now that remains to be seen.”
“Tell me now what I need to do to reign supreme.”
“Well, I supposed it would take a mighty sword being pulled from a stone.”
“I’ll give ye a mighty sword.” And with that, he rolled her onto her back and proceeded to show her how much of a mighty hero he could be.
EPILOGUE
The Ladies’ Marriage Prospects Bulletin
