Too Scot to Hold (The Hots for Scots #8) - Caroline Lee Page 0,51

her eyes widening at the pleasure such a small movement could bring her.

“Aye,” he drawled. “No’ quite yet.”

When he withdrew further, then slid slowly home, she moaned. Widening her legs, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Get on with it then.”

So he did.

His thrusts began slowly, each one eliciting a groan or a whimper from two sets of lips. But soon, both were panting, aching, yearning…each thrust bringing her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

“Vina,” he panted, “I cannae last— I wanted to— Och, St. Luke help me!”

She decided she rather liked it when he prayed in bed.

“I’m so close, Graham. Just-just…”

‘Twas a familiar feeling, this pressure building within her. But this time, ‘twas accompanied by a delightfully full feeling, and when he reached down between their joined bodies and brushed his thumb against her clitoris, she soared over the edge of the precipice.

“Graham!” she screamed, arching against him, feeling her muscles squeezing his cock, even as he gave one last thrust and groaned her name. A flood of warmth spilled against her womb, and she knew.

“Mine,” he whispered, as he fell to one side, before gathering her in his arms.

“Yers,” she agreed. “But…also mine. We belong together, Graham.”

As their breathing slowly returned to normal, he brushed a kiss against her hair. “Aye, wife, we do. Forever.”

She snuggled against him, listening to his heart steadily beat. Downstairs, their clans were celebrating their joining and Graham’s future position. But here…?

“Graham?”

“Hmm?”

Good, he was still awake.

“For the last year, ye’ve showed me so much pleasure. But tonight…”

He made an odd growling sound when he levered himself up on one elbow, dislodging her in his attempts to meet her eyes. That little furrow appeared between his own eyes. “Dinnae tell me ye dinnae find pleasure. I felt ye, wife.”

Feeling mischievous, Davina kept her attention on his bare stomach, where she drew small circles, teasing him. “Tonight was verra nice, aye, but…”

“But what?” he growled.

Emboldened now, she peeked up at him, not bothering to hide her smirk. “But ‘tis just that I had a whole year of learning pleasure without yer cock inside me. I think, in the name of fairness, we try it this new way a few more times.”

Her expression carefully blanked. “For comparison purposes?”

Mutely, she nodded, sure he could see her joy and her pleasure shining in her eyes.

When he rolled her over onto her back, looming over her, she saw determination on his face. “Husband?”

“A few more times, eh, Vina?”

She blinked innocently. “Please. If ‘tis no’ too much trouble.” She already felt his hardness pressing against her hip.

Suddenly, his face flashed into a grin. ‘Twas there and gone before she could really enjoy it, but ‘twas enough.

“I love ye, wife.”

“And I love ye, Graham.” Her arms twined around his neck. “And I shall love ye forever.”

‘Twould be a joy to keep that promise.

“Forever,” he growled, as he lowered his lips to hers.

And when they met, they were both smiling.

Epilogue

Well, it had taken over a year, but he’d finally gotten all of his children married.

Last spring, there’d been eight of them: Him, Nessa, and the six lads. Now…?

He grinned, looking around the great hall, his eyes resting on each face he knew and loved so well. Now, with Graham’s wedding yesterday, there were over two dozen members of his family, counting the bairns.

And they were all happy; all were laughing and drinking and calling out jokes, even the lasses who’d recently given birth.

William Oliphant rocked back on his heels and took a draught of ale, certain he’d earned it after the excitement of the last year. Who would’ve guessed when he and his Moira had come up with the plan last spring, that it would’ve been so successful?

Well, actually, Moira had promised the scheme would work, and it had.

“Thinking of me, my love?” his new wife murmured, as she slid her arm around his waist.

Chuckling, he turned to throw his arm around her shoulder. “How can ye tell?”

“Ye always get a particularly fond look in yer eyes when ye’re thinking of me.”

“Fond, eh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Kids?” Moira blinked. “What do baby goats have to do with aught?”

Since William didn’t know, he kissed her instead. He’d learned, in the years since this woman had been his lover, there was little a nice kiss couldn’t fix.

Aye, their scheme to marry off his sons had worked nicely. They’d gotten Nessa married to Moira’s son, Brohn, along the way, discovered yet another of his bastards, and