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“I am,” she replied, as she reached up on tiptoe to kiss him. Or was it to silence him? Either way, he felt comforted by the press of her lips against his.

And as their kiss deepened, and their tongues and hands explored, Flynn felt his worries recede. She loved him, and he loved her, and nothing could come between them as long as they had that.

“I love you, Flynn,” she whispered against his mouth.

“As I love ye, lass.”

Suddenly, she took hold of his hand and led him around to the back of the chapel, where a grove of oak trees grew. An old outbuilding, half crumbled, stood within the center of the grove. It was to this shell of a structure that she led him, as though she knew precisely where to go.

“Make love to me,” she urged, turning to face him as they stepped inside the partial shelter of the outbuilding.

He did not have time to respond as she leaped up into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. Instinctively, his hands settled against the curves of her backside, and his lips sought hers once more. As their mouths caught one another again and again, her fingers brushed through his hair, and her breaths came in stifled gasps that sounded almost like weeping.

It was enough to make him break their kiss, and peer up into her eyes. “What’s the matter, lass?”

If he could have seen her face in the gloom, he might have seen the tears falling down her cheeks, but she swept them away before he could.

“I am sad to be leaving you, my love,” she replied huskily. “That is all.”

She grasped his face once more and found his lips, kissing them with a fervor that bordered on desperation. And, in his own sadness at the prospect of her departure, he let his own eagerness sweep him away on a wave of passion. For who knew when they might get an opportunity like this again?

Sinking to his knees, and keeping one arm wrapped around her, he hastily undid the brooch that pinned his belted tartan to his shirt. That done, he unraveled the rest of the fabric and flattened it out on the ground as a makeshift blanket.

Trailing kisses down her neck, he gently lay her down on tartan and followed the natural motion of her reclining body, his mouth grazing across her breasts and over her stomach. But she did not seem satisfied with lying down, as she suddenly sat up and took hold of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side.

“Make love to me,” she repeated, with increased insistence.

Spurred on by the passion in her voice, he made quick work of her bodice, and her petticoats, and her lace collar, until she lay naked and glorious in front of him. Against the sparse moonlight that made it through the oak branches, her pale skin seemed to gleam, as though she were an ethereal being, and he a mere mortal who had been blessed with the gift of her.

“I love ye, lass,” he growled against her throat, before moving down to her ripe breasts and taking a pert nipple into his mouth. He sucked gently, feeling the familiar, delicious buck of her hips against his.

“I love you more,” she panted, her fingernails raking at his muscular back.

As her hips bucked again, he felt the head of his hardened length come to rest at the dip of her silken heat. A thrill shivered through him, tightening his abdomen. And though he would have liked to prolong the moment, and tease her to her first conclusion, she appeared to have other ideas.

“Och… lass,” he groaned, as she lifted her hips further, drawing his swollen, eager member inside her.

Bending his head, he caught her mouth with his and pushed himself forward, until he was within her to the hilt. Her gasp of pleasure rushed against his lips, while she gripped onto him as though her life depended on it.

Slowly, he withdrew, before plunging back into her again, relishing every gasp and moan and breath that escaped her throat. By now, he knew what she liked, and he was all too willing to give that to her. And so, in steady, measured strokes, he rocked his hips back and forth, rolling his groin against her most sensitive spot to create a tantalizing friction.

Building up his speed, he slid his hand between them, and pressed his two forefingers to that swollen bud. And as he thrust into her intoxicating well of pleasure, he circled his fingers to the same increasing rhythm, until her body seized beneath him, and her nails dug into his shoulders.

“Flynn!” she cried out. “Oh, Flynn! Yes… yes… oh… yes!”

He felt the pull of his own conclusion, being driven along by her tightened muscles, as her delicious sex clenched around his manhood. He was about to withdraw, when her hands took hold of his buttocks and pushed him deeper inside her, as her legs locked around his waist. Any time before this, he would have endeavored to delay his conclusion, but there seemed no reason to avoid such a delirious moment of ecstasy, when they would be wed one day soon.

“Och… lass. Lass…” He stilled as he spilled his seed within her, and thrust slowly, twice more, before he lowered himself into her waiting embrace.

She kissed his neck and gripped him tight. “I love you.”

“I love ye,” he answered sleepily, his body relaxed and warmed by her presence.

A few moments later, not wanting to crush her beneath him, he rolled to the side and pulled her back into his arms. She nestled into his chest, placing little kisses upon his skin, and though he could not see her face properly, he was happy just to have her close. It had not been a lengthy lovemaking encounter, but he knew there would be time enough to spend hours on their pleasure, when she returned.

Content and brimming with love, he closed his eyes and let the sleepiness overwhelm him. For what could be better than falling asleep in the arms of the woman he loved, knowing she would be there when he awoke.

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