through her and the hard pounding seemed to add to it. He wasn’t gentle and she realized that she didn’t want him to be. She wanted to feel his strength, enjoy the hard slap of his body behind her. His cock was harder than she recalled and he drove it deeply into her, all the time holding her hips in place, even pulling her back to meet each thrust. Lust and need sent soft cries past her lips.
“Aye, lass, let me hear ye whimper. ’Tis a sweet sound.”
Her entire body was feeling so much more than it ever had. Keir grasped her hips and rode her with fast, hard thrusts. Her breasts swung back and forth with the motion, her hands gripping the carpet, but she began moving back toward each thrust. Her back arched, lifting her bottom into prominent display. A soft growl of approval came from her husband.
The fingers on her hips suddenly tightened and she heard a harsh intake of breath. A second later his seed flooded her. Hot and searing, he thrust a few final times before catching his weight on flattened hands that pressed down on either side of her. Her legs quivered but so did his body against her back. They both sank down onto the carpet, his arms pulling her against his body. He rolled onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Sweet Christ. Ye may be the death of me, lass.” He pulled her close, pushing her head down onto his shoulder. “But I’ll face me demise a happy man.”
“You shouldn’t tempt fate by saying things such as that.”
He found the end of her braid and began working her hair loose with his fingers.
“Like what? Am I no’ permitted to tell ye how much I enjoy lying with ye? Does the fact that ye’re noble born mean we must be unhappy? Sharing a bed the minimum amount of times in order to produce children that will then grow up with parents who have no affection for each other? I dinnae agree with that. Ye make me very happy, Helena.”
Her throat tightened. She didn’t understand the strange reaction. “You simply should not tempt fate.”
She tried to roll away but he held her still. “I’m chilled.”
“Nay, ye are not. Ye’re trying to escape so that ye can think yerself back into that model of proper behavior that yer parents sent ye off to court believing in.”
He rolled over on top of her, pinning her down with his greater weight. “I’ll nae have that, Helena. I have tender feelings for you, and I am stunned to discover such, too. The difference is I thought I could live without affection in my marriage and I’m happy to be proven wrong. ’Tis truly a delight to find myself proven wrong.”
“Love is insanity.”
He kissed her, hard and long. He didn’t stop until she kissed him in return, the need inside her too great to ignore when he touched her.
“Than I am a happy victim of the disease.”
He rolled over her but left her closest to the fire. The coals bathed her bare skin in heat and Keir kept her tight against his body to warm the rest of her. He was correct; she was not cold. He had her hair loose and began playing with it.
“But—”
“Hush now. Tomorrow will be time enough for us to return to what the world outside those doors tells us is right and wrong. For the moment, let us enjoy just being a man and his woman, with nothing to worry us save when passion will demand more from us.”
“You mean lovers.”
He cupped her chin and raised her face so that their eyes met. Approval coated his features and she found it too tempting to resist.
“Aye, lass. Now ye and I have something to agree upon. Lovers is a fine word.”
“It is nice.”
Very nice. Her eyelids fluttered, suddenly feeling heavy. Her heart slowed down and the night carried the heat from her skin, but not the scent of her lover. She cuddled up closer, seeking his heat, her legs sliding along his. She savored the difference between them, his harder form and the way her body melted against it so that they might lie so completely against one another. It was perfection. He stirred, shifting for a moment and reaching for something. She didn’t open her eyes to see what. But she sighed when his kilt wrapped around her. He tucked the length of soft wool over her body and his, stroking