Page 79 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
Apparently, her husband did, too. The moment they were far enough away from the dining hall that the sound of the reverie had died down, he was on her.
He tugged her toward him in one swift movement, a yip of surprise wrenching itself from her. Conall’s large arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in their warmth and his mouth crashed into hers.
He claimed her, hands roaming her body as if he needed to touch every single inch of her before he would be satisfied. His tongue darted forward, parting her lips and then dancing with her own.
Eliza’s hands twined around his neck, a soft moan sounding in the back of her throat. Heat and desire pooled low in her belly, and before she knew it, Conall had lifted her.
She threw her head back and laughed as he carried her, marching his way toward their bedchamber with her legs thrown over his arms as he carried her.
“I hope ye are nae too tired, wife,” he growled in her ear, a trickle of anticipation dancing along her flesh.
“I’m nae tired at all,” Eliza purred back.
The moment they were in their rooms, Conall placed her on their bed. Her legs parted for him of their own accord, and he descended upon her like a man crazed.
His mouth found hers again, moving in beautiful, perfect rhythm as he kissed her breathless. One of his hands roamed down her body, the barest of touch through the fabric of her gown.
She needed more. Wrenching her mouth away from his, Eliza broke their kiss. Pawing at his clothes, she wrenched his tunic from where it was tucked into his kilt, exposing the bottom of his chiseled stomach.
“I need ye,” she panted.
Conall’s hands came up to help her, the two of them making quick work of stripping him bare. Then, his hands were on hers.
With practiced fingers, Conall reached behind her, undoing the buttons of her wedding gown. The fabric gave way, and when he gave it a quick, strong tug, it pulled down her body in one swift movement.
She shimmied out of it, moving her body a little further along the bed. Leaning up on her elbows, her eyes roved over Conall.
She hadn’t seen him like this before. He’d been clothed during their night at the end. But now, he was far from that. Standing naked and glorious in front of her.
Her eyes travelled down her husband’s body, her mouth going dry as she took it all in. His chest speckled with thick, coarse hair, his well-defined abs that she wanted to run her fingers over.
And then, his member, standing stiff and proud and as Conall’s eyes devoured her.
He fell onto her again, their mouths colliding in their well-practiced movement. This kiss felt deeper, though. More feral than any they had ever shared before that moment.
Once more, his hands trailed down her body. His fingertips left tingles in their wake, marking their path along her collar bone and down to her nipples.
He gave one of her nipples a quick, sharp tug, eliciting a moan from the back of Eliza’s throat. Conall broke their kiss, eyes dancing with desire as he stared down at her.
“Ye’re so eager, wife,” he murmured, his words causing another wave of desire to crash over her.
“I need ye to claim me, husband.” Eliza’s voice was hoarse, the sound of it causing Conall’s eyes to darken with a lust filled haze.
His fingers continued on their path, tracing down the hollow of her stomach. When it arrived at the tangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, she drew in a quick breath.
The corner of her husband’s mouth tugged up in a smile as his fingers dipped between her slick folds.
Conall parted her, fingers swirling around that perfect nub at the center of her thighs. She inhaled, hips bucking up to meet him.
“Greedy,” Conall murmured.
Eliza was unable to reply as he dipped his fingers inside of her.
The sensation of it was as glorious as she remembered. And, as Conall’s fingers began to pump in and out of her, Eliza panted out her pleasure.
His mouth fell on her again, and Conall extracted his fingers from inside of her. He parted her knees, placing himself between them.
Anticipation had her stomach clenching, and her hips shifted to accommodate the width of him. The tip of him nudged against her entrance, and she had never wanted anything more than to feel him fully seated inside of her.
