Page 46 of Highlander's Wild Lass
“I daenae think I was,” she said, looking down to undo the knot in her bumroll ties. “I daenae think I am or I wouldnae be undressin’ in my chief’s chambers.”
“My chief…”
“Aye, that’s what ye are to me, are ye nae?”
“Aye,” he said, quietly this time. He watched her fumble with the strings before taking them into his hands and deftly undoing the knot. He reached around her to grab the bumroll, but as he did it skated through his grasp and landed with a small thud on the carpets below.
Celestia was watching him expectantly. She just nodded and that was all he needed. He placed his hand against the small of her back and pulled her into him.
A small gasp rushed past her lips before Anthony kissed her. Whatever had happened to compel her to come to him in the middle of the night in the pouring rain must be serious, and more so than just to say she accepted his marriage proposal.
Anthony was concerned, but mostly thrilled and his senses flooded with only her. The smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, and the taste of the rain on her lips. The stress of the other chiefs pushing their daughters on him and his sister’s persistent wishes for him to wed faded away.
He felt every inch of her pressed against him and he was sure that she felt him. In one swift motion, he gently settled her among the carpet and pillows he had discarded earlier from his armchair.
The fire cast an orange glow over her, looking like the very image of what he thought Brigid, the goddess of fire, must look like from the fairytales his mother would read to him as a boy.
He leaned over her, hovering over her lips, a small grin growing between them. “Ye are a stunnin’ woman, Celestia.”
It was Celestia, this time, that surged forward to join their lips together. He wrapped a hand behind her head, holding her close, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth.
They kissed for what felt like forever and no time at all when Celestia lowered herself back onto the pillows and he raised onto his knees, desperate to get his kilt off but wanting this moment to last as long as possible.
Celestia grasped her flimsy shift and slide it up her legs. Anthony watched in awe, a fervent ache growing within him, hoping she would pull it all the way up and reveal herself. She stopped just above her knees, uncovering her muddied stockings.
“My slippers,” she said in a breathy whisper.
Wordlessly, Anthony gently slid each slipper off. He gripped the delicate stocking, soaked through, that rested just over her knees and began to roll it downward. His hand guided the fabric down the length of her calf, and he swore he felt her shudder just as he pushed it past her ankle and tossed it closer to the fire.
“Did ye ride here?”
“I ran.”
He wanted to ask her why she ran all the way to him. But she remained silent as Anthony reached for the other stocking and repeated the measure, enjoying the feeling of her trembling beneath his touch.
He skimmed his fingertips tenderly up the length of her leg, her skin a tantalizing mix of warmth from laying near the fire and cool from being out in the rain. He leaned over, pressing his lips against her lower thigh, the soft linen shift tickling his cheek.
His mind was quiet for the first time in days and yet his body was going mad for her as he placed his hands on each of her thighs and pushed the shift even higher, revealing her.
He tipped forward, kissing the soft inner skin of her thighs, feeling her rapid pulse just beneath that matched the burning in his blood.
Slowly, Celestia’s fingers slipped through his hair, and she noiselessly summoned him to her. He continued to trail kisses, hoping his slow approach would torment her as he passed over her warm center to her hip and over her flat stomach.
Anthony glided his hands up her waist, palming each breast. Celestia moaned as he slid the fabric of her shift from side to side, the slow soft friction causing her nipples to harden.
Her hands began to explore him, coasting down his shoulders to his stomach, pulling his shirt free from his kilt.
When he looked at her, Celestia’s eyes glazed with need. He leaned back quickly to rip the shirt over his head, tossing it away from him. He loomed, lowering himself over her and kissing her with uncharacteristic savagery.
Her hands began exploring again, her fingertips finding his nipples and running small circles around them before circling around his neck.
Celestia pulled away, looking over his face, seemingly taking in every detail. A small smile flashed across her features, the shyness from earlier gone. Her hands reached down once again, finding the buckle of his belt.
“Nay,” he murmured, gently pulling her hands away. He would not take her until they were officially wed, he respected her more than the dalliances that numbered his younger years. “I told ye I’d take care of ye, let me show ye what I mean.”
Slowly, he followed a route down her bosom to her stomach, nipping and dragging his teeth, cataloging every curve and dip. He found his way to her core, rousing her swollen bud gently with the tip of his nose.
Celestia froze for a moment under his hands.
