Page 104 of Taming the Highland Misfits
She had no idea, but suddenly she could not bear to be apart from him any longer. She took two steps towards him, close enough to touch him if she wanted to, but she stopped, suddenly unable to go any further.
“What is wrong, my sweetheart?” she asked softly. “You are still my sweetheart, even if I am no longer yours. I will always love you, until the day I die. Tell me, Alex, do you not love me? I need to know. Do you still want to marry me? Because I desperately want to marry you, and we only have a few days left. If you do not, please tell me. All I want is for you to put me out of my misery.”
Alex flicked a glance at her pleading face then looked at the ground. His emotions were churning within him; what could he say to her? He waited and waited, and the silence hung heavily between them while he tried to think of a suitable answer. He decided that he could only tell her the truth; she deserved no less. When he looked up at last, he found her still gazing at him, and her eyes were begging for an answer. “I could never stop loving you, Freya,” he said huskily. “You are everything to me.”
Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately and without restraint, cupping the back of her head with his hand as he arched her backwards, plundering her mouth with his.
He thrust his tongue inside to dance with hers and heard Freya whimper with pleasure and need as she responded in kind. He had kissed her hundreds of times, but he could never remember feeling like this before. It was heavenly, because they had not touched each other for days, and their separation had only made his desire keener. His manhood was engorged and pressing against her softness, but when she began to rub her hips from side to side against him, he growled and almost lost control.
When they drew apart and looked at each other, both were breathless and trembling.
“Come here.” It was a command, and Freya obeyed it as she stepped into his arms once more and felt herself being lifted then gently laid on his bed.
At last,she thought, with an inward sigh.He is going to make me his.
Alex lay down beside her and drew her into his arms, and they lay beside each other for a short while without speaking before she said softly, “Alex, you have not answered my question. Are we going to be married?”
He did not answer her, but smothered her question with another kiss, and this time he did not stop, but peppered tiny kisses all down the side of her neck, then into the valley between her breasts. Finally, he drew the neckline of her dress down to kiss and suckle her left breast, lucking and nibbling her pebbled nipple. He moved to the right side to sweetly torture the other breast in the same fashion while his thumb and finger teased the first one.
Freya arched her hips up unconsciously, then she felt Alex pushing up her skirts, his hands skimming up her thighs to her core. He stopped there to look into her eyes as if asking permission, and she nodded, because she simply could not speak.
“Lie back and let me take you somewhere you have never been before,” he whispered. He separated the soft lips of her sex with his thumbs before he did something utterly shocking. He inserted his tongue inside her and pushed in and out while she moaned, at first in shock, then with delight.
It felt so, so good, a pleasure the likes of which she had never felt before, and the sensual delight was almost unbearable. She throbbed, she ached, she wanted to scratch an itch that was both pleasurable and painful. It was all blending into a sensual haze, but the best was yet to come.
Alex looked up at Freya’s face seeing that she was at once puzzled and delighted. She could not quite understand what was happening to her, and when he inserted first one, then two fingers inside her and teased her hard bud with his thumb, then circled it with his tongue and nibbled at it with his teeth, she screamed in ecstasy.
Nothing had ever prepared Freya for this. It was the most sensual, shocking, delightful experience of her life and she never wanted it to end. She knew a little about what went on when a man and woman became one, but she had no idea it felt like that. It was glorious.
Before, she and Alex had touched each other intimately, but only on her breasts, never on her most sensual spot. She had caressed his hardness through his clothes, but that was as far as things had progressed. They had never done these strange, wanton, wicked things before.
Then a new sensation began to assail her; it began as a slight flutter which grew more and more insistent, more and more intense. She was reaching for something that was almost–almost there. Suddenly, Freya screamed out loud as a shaft of pure ecstasy shot through her and her whole body shuddered with pleasure for a moment, unable to stop until the sensation faded away, leaving her breathless. She felt both satisfied and filled with a new energy the likes of which she had never felt before. And yet, as she gazed at the man she loved, she wanted more; she wanted all of him.
Alex looked up at her with a wicked smile, but he said nothing, and suddenly Freya came down to earth with a crash. He had not answered her question, and as she watched his face change, she realised that he had also come to the same conclusion.
And yet there was magic in the air, and Freya did not want to break the spell by bringing up the vexed subject of their marriage again. She wanted to lie there with her love and enjoy him, wrapped in his arms and nestled against his warm body. After all, this might be the one and only time they would be together.
He had not made love to her, but he had certainly satisfied her, and for the moment she could live with that.
“Do you still love me, Freya?” Alex asked huskily.
“I always will,” she replied. “Till my dying day, Alex. You know that.”
“I do,” he answered with a smile. “I just wanted to hear it again. Stay with me tonight, please. Nothing will happen between us that will besmirch your honour, but I know I will not be able to sleep if you are not here.”
“Yes,” she whispered, “I will, Alex. Of course I will.”
18
Alex gently removed Freya’s outer clothes until she was left wearing only her filmy chemise, and the sensual touch of his hands almost made her senses melt again; he had such power over her. He drew aside the blankets so that she could climb into his bed, then he stripped down to his breeches, under which he wore nothing. He could have slept naked, as he usually did, but that would have been too much of a temptation for both of them. He was determined that nothing was going to spoil the night they had both looked forward to for so long. He would be her first, last and only lover.
He climbed into the bed with her and pulled her close to him, loving the way her soft body molded itself into his. It was quite a tight fit, but it did not matter; Freya was here, her face nestled into the crook between his neck and shoulder, her breasts against his side. He had no sensation of passion or desire now; all he wanted to do was hold her until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
It was still early in the evening and just past midsummer, so the sun was only just beginning to dip towards the horizon. However, both of them were bone-weary, and even the still-bright sunlight could not keep them awake.
The last thing Freya remembered before sleep claimed her was the feel of Alex’s skin against hers, his scent, and the soft sound of his breathing. Sometime in the early hours of the morning, she was woken by the sound of his voice and felt him shifting in the bed.
“Freya,” he said huskily, then he gave a soft laugh and she felt him reaching for her, his arms tightening around her.
