Page 59 of Addicted to His Highland Bride

All the while, his lips did not leave her, paying attention to her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her collarbone, and the peaks of her shoulders. Learning from him, she practiced the same depth of attention, kissing every speck of him that she could, tasting the warm saltiness of his skin with her tongue.

Moving together as one, their moans and sharp breaths filled the air, burning more ferociously than the endless array of candles that had been prepared. To Edwina, it felt as if they were the only two people in existence, for everything but him had fallen away. Every sense was filled with him. Every thought was of him. Anything beyond the chamber door was no longer important.

“Och, Love,” Felix growled into her neck as his pace began to quicken.

“Daenae stop,” she urged. “Please, daenae stop.”

She felt him smile against her skin. A moment later, his hand slipped between them, moving over her stomach until his fingertips found the secret nub that pulsed between her thighs. She cried out as he began to rub intense circles around it, turning that pleasing pulse into a powder keg of bliss. With every caress, it was akin to striking a flint and making a spark, and it would not be long until one of those sparks ignited her conclusion.

She held tight to him, digging her fingernails into his back as everything began to crash together at once—the quickening of his thrusts, the powerful strokes upon her nub, and the sound of his own pleasure growling in the back of his throat, mingling with every strained gasp that escaped her lips. It was all too much, and yet not nearly enough, overwhelming her until she felt like she might burst apart at the seams.

The peak of her pleasure rose and rose, building to such immense heights that she wondered if she would ever crest its summit. As if sensing her delicious frustration, Felix strummed faster, his thrusts plunging into her depths with a delirious abandon, coaxing her into that longed-for conclusion.

It came out of nowhere, hitting her with its full force while she thought it was still building higher and higher.

“Oh, Felix! Felix!” she all but screamed, as her back arched up and her neck strained back against the bed, her chest on fire as she struggled to draw in a breath.

It was more potent than any conclusion she had reached before. It was as if her veins had been replaced with fiery streams of pure ecstasy, her limbs no longer under her control as they trembled violently, while her skin tingled with a heat so intense that she feared she had a fever. The best kind of fever. One she would endure again and again, for as long as she was able.

As the pleasure receded into thrilling pulses that ricocheted the length and breadth of her body, Felix seemed to be in the throes of his own bliss. Having heard her cry of pleasure, he relinquished the restraint he had been showing, thrusting as if they were on borrowed time.

“Let me feel ye,” she urged, desperate to know what was to come.

He gazed down at her, his teeth grazing his lower lip as he rocked his hips back and forth. Her words seemed to have an encouraging effect upon him, for, no more than two minutes later, his eyes squeezed shut and an almighty cry of pleasure echoed from his throat.

“Och, My Love,” he growled. “My Love.”

Deep inside her, she felt the throb of his ecstasy, igniting tiny new sparks in her belly. He thrust twice more, then stilled for a moment to catch his breath. As his eyes opened and concentrated upon her once again, she noticed that they were shining with satisfaction.

He smiled down at her, before collapsing. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her close, as he buried his face in her neck.

“Ye’re extraordinary,” he said, his voice muffled.

“Nay, ye are,” she argued with a chuckle. “I dinnae ken that I could… feel such things.”

He grinned against her skin. “So, ye’re nae wantin’ to leave me, to live as ye please elsewhere?”

“It was ye who suggested that, ye dobber,” she replied, holding him tightly. “And nay, I dinnae want to be apart from ye. This is where I want to be—in this Castle, with my husband, even on the days where we drive each other to madness.”

He rolled them onto their sides, folding her into his embrace. “I imagine there’ll be plenty of those,” he said, laughing softly. “But I wouldnae want to be anywhere else, either, or driven mad by anyone else.”

“Good, because ye’re stuck with me.” She peered up at him, suddenly overwhelmed with a rush of happiness and disbelief. Disbelief that he was hers, and she was his, and they might have a joyful marriage after all.

He kissed the top of her head. “Happy to be so.” He paused. “Now, what would ye say to that leg of pheasant?”

“I wouldnae say anythin’ to it—it cannae talk back,” she teased.

He groaned. “That was terrible.”

“Aye, my jests tend to be.” Nestling into his chest, planting kisses every time it rose with a breath, she sighed contentedly. “I’ve nae yet got the appetite for more food.”

“Is that so?” He tilted her head up, so she could see his amused expression. “Well then, if ye’ll allow me… say, half an hour of holdin’ ye in my arms, we’ll see what we can do about yer appetite. For my part, I’m ravenous.”

She gaped at him. “Ye are? But ye ate so well at the feast.”

“I’m nae ravenous for anythin’ on that feastin’ table, Love,” he purred. “I thought ye’d learned, by now, that the one thing I’m constantly starvin’ for is ye. So, give me a moment, and I think I’ll have me another taste.”

She grinned. “Ye best had. I wouldnae want it to go cold.”

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