Highlander's Beautiful Liar A Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance Historical Novel - Adamina Young Page 0,53

else, Alec. Only you.”

“Good. So then when we talk about progress, when we talk about the future, we talk about us. Together.”

Does he love me? She searched his face, those intense eyes, and wondered if there was maybe a spark of something for her, something that ran deeper than lust to win and lust for her.

“Together,” she agreed. Then she looked down at her plate. “Dinner looks delicious.”

“To hell with dinner,” he growled and pushed back his chair. Before she could ask him what he was doing, he’d pulled her up and sat her on the table, sending plates full of food and goblets full of wine crashing to the floor.

Want seared her, and she didn’t even mind or care of the mess that they were making. His heat, his need, surrounded her, and he gently tugged her braid, forcing her head back as he claimed her lips.

Hungry for his taste, she opened to him, drew in his tongue, accepted every stroke. Careful of his wound, she tugged at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin under her fingers.

“Ye want me, sweetheart?” he whispered as he let her open his shirt. His hands were busy pushing up the skirts of her dress, sliding over her sensitive thighs, coaxing out another moan.

“Always.” She always wanted him. In her arms. In her bed. By her side. Always. She missed him when he was gone, and she loved it when she saw him again.

His fingers found her wetness, and he stroked. “Ye can have me. Whenever ye want.” Withdrawing his fingers, much to her dismay, he gripped her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the table before he stepped between her legs.

She reached for the button of his trousers.

“Kilts,” she whispered as she fought with his buttons. “You really must wear kilts more often. All the time. With nothing underneath. That would make this much easier.”

“I will keep that in mind,” he laughed. Then he was free, warm, and pulsing in her hand.

The next thing she knew, he was inside her, and there was nothing else to say. She clutched at him, let him fill and stretch her, and the pleasure between them swept her away.

19

It was hours before they got back to what dinner remained on the table, and by then they were starving and didn’t care that it was cold or scattered across the table. There was something wild about eating dinner naked with his wife.

After he’d satisfied her several times.

“I’d offer to snag something hot from the kitchens, but I can’t stand the idea of putting on clothes,” Cora admitted as she snagged some cheese that was teetering on the edge of the plate. Breaking it in half, she offered it to him, and he nibbled on it straight from her fingers.

“Oh, if you keep doing that, we won’t be eating for long,” she said huskily.

Yes. This was a moment for him, and he savored it. Not that she wanted him, but that she was feeling more comfortable with him. More comfortable with how she felt about him.

They could be more. Now that he could put his suspicions aside, see her as his wife, he could see just how they could be. How their life could be.

Happiness. Security. He could see them with their bairns in their arms now, then later, chasing the ruffians around, while they both protected them and loved them.

She’d seen so much darkness, and he hadn’t helped, but now, he only wanted her in warmth and love. If he couldn’t give it to her, then he would help give her a whole family that would love her.

Except, why couldn’t he? He’d been raised in a loving family. When he was with Cora, he thought of nothing else and no one else. When he was away from her, she was never far from his mind.

“You’re staring,” she murmured. “Are you disgusted to learn that I am starving when you are finished ravishing me?”

“Ye should have told me sooner. Now all I can think about is how ye must have suffered before. Trapped in bed with me. No food.”

“Aye,” she said mocking his Scottish brogue with a sparkle in her eyes. “Suffered. Endlessly.”

“Sassenach wench.” With a growl, he snuck an arm around her waist and hauled her into his lap. The chair teetered, and he rocked forward to put it back on all four legs while she squealed.

“Hey! No more ravishing until I’ve had more food,” she protested.

“No ravishing.” He nuzzled her neck. “Just holding ye.”