Page 39 of Married to the Icy Highlander
Why was she so nervous? She felt as if a swarm of butterflies had taken flight in her stomach, and she couldn’t seem to settle them.
When Neil caught up with her, he made no effort or attempts to be subtle about his approach. She knew without a doubt that if he had wanted to be silent and sneak up on her, he would have. He wasn’t a laird for nothing. Everybody knew about his hunting prowess. No, he was snapping twigs on purpose. He was giving her time to run away, and they both knew it.
She had hoped that he would find her, sweep her off her feet, kiss her senseless and breathless. But when he finally rounded the corner, all of the things that she had thought she wanted fell right out of her mind.
Her gratitude overflowed, and she moved without thinking. If he hadn’t come when he had, there was no telling what Ferguson would have done. She was half certain that the old man wanted to strike her. Never mind what he would have done to her mother if he hadn’t been put in his place.
Ceana rose on her tiptoes and flung her arms around Neil’s neck, squeezing until he wrapped his arm around the small of her back and lifted her off her feet. She only hugged him tighter. Shefelt like his embrace was the only thing keeping her tethered in place, the only thing keeping her together.
“Thank ye, thank ye, thank ye,” she muttered into the side of his face, hoping that he could feel the sincerity in her words.
“Is that why ye wanted to marry so suddenly?” he asked, his cheek pressed against her own.
She nodded awkwardly. She hated that she felt like crying all over again. She hadn’t wanted to admit that out loud, but Ferguson had gone and made a fool out of all of them. She had been made very aware of the rumors he had been spreading about her—such vile, nasty insinuations.
“That bastard’s been after me since the day I came of age. Longer, if we both ken the truth. He’s been doin’ everything in his power to get to me… The things he wanted…”
She shuddered in his arms.
Neil shifted, bracing his free arm against the tree that she had been hiding behind and slowly leaning her against it, pinning her just like she had imagined. She couldn’t help the way her legs rose and wrapped around his waist, her breathing becoming shallow as he pulled back slightly. His eyes slowly scanned her face, and he shook his head.
“Well, nay one else can have ye,” he growled softly.
It didn’t matter how softly the words were whispered—she felt them in her bones.
His hand rose, his knuckles running down the side of her face. His thumb traced her full bottom lip, and she could feel the admiration in his intense gaze. She had never felt so desired before. Coveted, certainly, but not like this. This was completely different.
“Please.”
The word tumbled from her lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Just one word, whispered so only he could hear, and something between them snapped. All restraint and softness that he had shown a moment ago evaporated in an instant. His touch turned possessive and hungry as he claimed her mouth with his own. He flattened her against the tree until there was no more space between them, and she could feel the bulge under his kilt pressing between her legs despite the layers of fabric separating them.
“Say it again,” he groaned against her lips, his tongue dancing with hers, just as graceful as every other movement he made.
“Please, please, Neil,” she breathed between kisses, arching into every hard, muscular inch of him.
Suddenly, his hands were everywhere all at once, and it was still not enough. She locked her legs around him as best as she could, the burn in her thighs barely registering as she loosened the band in his hair so that she could run her fingers through the locks and pull them. She arched into him, seeking friction despite her frustration with the many layers between them.
She wanted tofeelhim.
He lifted her just enough so that his hands could find their way under her skirt and to her arse. She loved the way he was touching her. He squeezed her bottom before running his hands down her thighs, his fingers brushing the hem of her stockings. Oh, she could not wait for him to undress her. Not here, not now. But the anticipation was intense.
“More, wife?” he asked, nipping her neck and her clavicle before trailing kisses down to the neckline of her dress.
Heat coiled low in her belly, surging higher every time his covered length brushed against her core. She wanted to know what he felt like, but she tried not to rush herself. But oh how she wanted him.
She had never been interested in any of the men in the village, not by half. Sure, some of them were handsome, but never once had she felt this burning need inside of her.
“Please,” she breathed, relishing the way his fingers squeezed her thighs and dipped between them until they were cupping her sex.
Her back arched, and her grip on his shoulders tightened. She gasped as his long fingers spread her wetness over the lips of her sex, teasing before sinking inside her.
She felt a slight discomfort for only a moment before he started pumping his fingers inside her, and it was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She didn’t have words to describe it any more than she could stop the indecent moans escaping her throat. The same moans that her husband covered with his mouth so that she would not rouse the entire forest.
One finger, two, and she was clinging to him. She could barely focus on moving her lips against his because she felt so warm, as if she was floating, burning, and anchored at the same time. She didn’t know what he did with his fingers, but he curled them, and his thumb circled her bud. It was a mercy that she wasn’t standing on her feet, or else she would have collapsed. Her hips rocked against his hand as if they had a mind of their own. As if they knew just what to do.
Her head fell back, her hair catching in the bark of the tree as she bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle her cries. No doubt the villagers would have a field day, speculating about who was in the forest and what might have happened.
