Page 55 of Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides 8)

Dwyn stood, allowing her gown to drop to the floor, and then waited as she watched a slow smile spread his lips.

“Damn, I love yer shift,” he murmured, and she glanced down at it. While she’d made new gowns with higher necklines, her shifts all still had the very low ones and this one exposed the tops of her nipples. Geordie’s voice was a hoarse rasp when he requested, “Take it off too.”

Dwyn removed it, pushing it off one shoulder and then the other to let it drop on top of her gown.

“Aye, now climb on me, lass, straddle me stomach,” he ordered.

Dwyn’s eyebrows rose at that, her gaze moving to his erection, but she did as he asked and climbed onto the bed, swinging her hair over her shoulders first so she wouldn’t accidentally kneel on it.

“Ah, lass,” Geordie sighed, reaching out to cover her breasts with his hands. “Have I told ye how lovely ye are?”

Dwyn’s eye widened, but she couldn’t have responded had she wanted to; his touch was sending shivers of excitement through her and she was busy gasping in response.

“Bend down here and kiss me, lass.”

Dwyn obeyed at once, leaning down until she could cover his mouth with hers, a groan sliding from her lips into his mouth as he squeezed and kneaded her more firmly. It was a strange position for her to be on top and in control of the kiss, but she liked it. In this position she decided the angle, the pressure and depth of the kiss, and she was greedy after so long without this. Her mouth devoured his and invited him to devour in response as he fondled her breasts, and pinched her nipples. At least, she did at first, but when he turned his head breaking the kiss, Dwyn sat up slightly, panting with the need growing in her.

“Ye’re wet already,” Geordie growled, and she felt the first flash of embarrassment. She was straddling his stomach, but he hadn’t touched her yet, and still he knew she was wet . . . because . . . well, because she was straddling his stomach and he could apparently feel the way her body was weeping for attention.

“I want to taste ye.”

Dwyn blinked at those words, as confused now as she had been the first time he’d said them to her, but not for the same reason. “But ye canno’—”

“Straddle me face, wife.”

Now her eyes widened incredulously. “I could no’ just—”

“Ye vowed to obey me in front o’ Father Archibald, our family and God, Dwyn. Are ye no’ going to keep yer vows?” Geordie asked solemnly.

“Ye remember,” she said with surprise. Until now he’d not said a word about their marriage here in this room the night he was wounded, and Dwyn had begun to worry he didn’t even remember it.

“Our wedding?” Geordie asked with disbelief. “O’ course I remember. I’m the one who asked Father Archibald to perform it. Now crawl up here and straddle me face, wife. I want to taste ye.”

Dwyn’s mouth opened, closed, and then she shook her head, but when he shifted his hands to her hips and urged her forward, while she shook her head again, she also started to move. Worried about hurting him, and anxious about what he’d asked her to do, she got to her feet on the bed and then moved forward, grabbed the headboard to brace herself and slowly lowered herself over his face, her knees on either side of his head and calves and feet on his shoulders and chest. Dear God, this was new, she thought with dismay, aware of the view he was getting.

“Lower, wife.”

Dwyn shook her head, but lowered herself some more.

“Almost perfect, just a touch farther forward,” he instructed.

Muttering under her breath, Dwyn shifted a bit forward and then nearly screamed when his tongue lashed across her sensitive center. Biting her lip to silence herself, she clenched her hands on the headboard, her wide eyes staring blindly at the bed drapes as he clutched her hips and brought her firmly against his face. He used his chin, his lips, his tongue and even his teeth on her tender flesh, his hands moving her hips until she was excited enough to forget her position and start moving herself, riding his face. He murmured what Dwyn thought was approval then, and she groaned and let her head fall back as the sound hummed over her skin and through her body.

Dwyn was on the edge of finding her release when he suddenly urged her back by his grasp on her hips and growled, “Ride me now, lass.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. Dwyn would have done just about anything he asked at that point, and quickly shifted back down his body to straddle him. She didn’t await further instruction, but impaled herself on him with one swift plunge, and then let her head fall back, and groaned as her body adjusted to his filling her again. It had been so long.

“God, woman, I’ve missed ye,” Geordie moaned, his fingers digging into her hips. “I feel like I’ve come home every time I’m in ye, and it has been a long time since I was home.”

Dwyn raised her head to peer down at him, and then leaned forward to brace her hands on the pillow on either side of his head. Her hair fell around them, a pale gold curtain sheltering them from the world as she began to move on him, her breasts brushing across his chest, and their eyes meeting.

Geordie watched her face, his hands running down her body to clasp her behind and help her find the perfect pace, and then he growled, “Did I say home, love? I meant heaven.”

“Mavis says ye’ll be holding a wedding ceremony and feast at Innes rather than here,” Katie commented, and then added, “She said that all the Buchanans will be in attendance.”

Dwyn glanced up from the chest she was packing and watched the maid strip the bed she and Geordie had left in such a rumpled state this morning. It was a month since he’d woken after his wound. His stitches were out, and he’d worked hard at rebuilding his strength, even before they’d been removed. The man had definitely succeeded there, Dwyn thought with a slow smile as she recalled some of the positions he’d shown her last night and this morning. He claimed it was all to aid in rebuilding his strength to make love to her with him standing up, and her in his arms, her legs wrapped around him as he clasped her under the bottom and raised and lowered her slowly onto his staff. Dwyn was most pleased to help him regain his strength in such ways. After all, it was her duty as wife to aid him in any endeavor.

The thought nearly made her snort to herself with amusement. Help him, or not, she definitely enjoyed the bedding part of marriage. But she enjoyed other aspects too. Just talking and laughing with him was wonderful. Walking in the gardens and orchard. Playing games of Nine Men’s Morris and chess. Dwyn had come to the realization that she not only loved the man, she loved being with him and couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him.

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