“Aye, ma lady. I have one to match. In a far more—delicate place,” Clyde grinned.
“Is it true that Ronan dared you to swim out in the loch at night when you were eight, then barked like a seal to make you think a kelpie was coming for you?”
“Aye. But when he came in to search for me, I pulled him under and made him think a kelpie caught him.” Clyde’s smile grew as he winked conspiratorially. “For every story he told ye that makes me look like an eejit, I have three to tell aboot him.”
“Do you promise?”
“Och, yer wife is a wee too eager to hear aboot all yer blundering, Ronan.” Clyde clapped Ronan on the shoulder and squeezed. He leaned close to his laird and whispered. “Ye look like shite, yet ye’ve never looked happier. Ye look like I do around Maisie. I’m happy for ye.”
“Thank you, Cly.” Ronan returned his comrade’s grin before he reached his hand out to Abigail and glanced at Kieran. “I’ll point out your chamber, Kieran. I’d show my wife more of our home.” Ronan intended to show Abigail only one place: their chamber.
Thirty-Two
Ronan sighed as he leaned back against the side of the tub, his eyes drifting closed. The feel of Abigail’s fingers scrubbing his scalp nearly put him to sleep. He was still exhausted, needing both sleep and several healthier meals, but he was home with his wife. A steaming tub was already in their chamber when they arrived. Ronan insisted Abigail take a bath first. She’d argued until he threatened to put her in the tub with her clothes on. She scrambled to get undressed, reminding him they were Maude’s and needed to be returned. Now she sat with his enormous robe wrapped around her as she helped him bathe. They had talked little since Abigail got into the tub. The companionable silence was something he’d once prayed he would enjoy with a wife, and he found it peaceful with Abigail.
When his leg twitched, Abigail chuckled. He opened his eyes to find Abigail standing beside the tub with a drying linen open for him. He reached up and found his hair was smooth and soap-free. He hadn’t realized he drifted off while Abigail helped him wash. He stood, watching his wife’s appreciative gaze sweep over him several times. When it settled on his lengthening cock, he rubbed the linen over his body then tossed it aside. With a squeak, Abigail landed on an enormous and soft bed, while Ronan prowled over her. He pushed the robe aside before she eased her arms out of it.
“Are you up for this?” Abigail asked, then giggled. “I mean, do you have enough energy for this? I ken you’re up for it.”
“Making love to my wife? I’ll always have the energy for this, Abby. I want to sink into you and never leave.”
“Good, because I don’t intend to let you go.”
Abigail’s hands traveled along Ronan’s back as he swept his tongue over her pebbled nipple. When it puckered into a tight dart, he ran his teeth against it, drawing it out until he could suckle. Abigail sighed as her legs fell wide, welcoming Ronan as the tip of his cock brushed her seam. Cupping her breast, Ronan swirled his tongue around her nipple before blowing cool air onto it. Once more, his mouth closed around it, sucking with enough pressure to make Abigail arch her back and moan with need.
“Ronan, can I admit something to you?”
“Of course. Aught, Abby. Always.”
“I missed you so much, even when I could hold your hand. At night, I imagined you were touching me just as you are now. I can live without coupling, so I don’t want you to think me wanton, but I eased the ache while picturing you.”
“Och, Abby. How do you think I passed the time?” Ronan grinned. His voice grew husky with his request. “Show me.”
Abigail massaged her breast before tweaking the nipple Ronan hadn’t attended to while her other hand slid along her belly. Their eyes locked until Abigail’s fingers slid through her ebony curls. Ronan watched as her index finger circled her button. She moaned his name as she increased the pressure. He was entranced watching his wife. He reached for his own cock, slowly gliding his hand along his rod. The need to taste and touch tempted him to brush her hand aside, but he marveled at the sight. As Abigail’s fingers increased their pace and her breathing became shallow, she reached for Ronan’s cock. Her hand took the place of his as she worked their aching flesh.
“Watching you is the most sensual and arousing act I’ve ever witnessed. I don’t know how it could ever have bothered me.”
“I understand why. That was different. But I need you to ken I never meant to reject you, Ronan.”
“I ken that now.” Ronan pressed a hungry kiss to Abigail’s lips, sliding his tongue into her mouth. As the kiss became frenzied with passion, Abigail guided the head of Ronan’s cock into her sheath. When she released him, he thrust savagely into her, eliciting a carnal moan as Abigail’s hips rose to meet his.
“Hard,” she moaned. The single word unleashed their combined need. There was nothing tender about this joining. That could come later. This mating was a celebration of survival, their shared physical craving for only one another. Sweat soon made their bodies glisten, as the sound of their bodies slamming together, and the creaks of the bed filled the chamber.
Ronan lifted Abigail’s leg over his hip, circling them after each thrust. He watched as Abigail’s eyes came alive with hunger and determination. Their brilliance rivaled any summer sky or the deepest parts of Loch Slapin. He was drowning in them but had no thought to call out for rescue. There was only a need to consume.
Abigail was surely drunk from the headiness that came with the feel of Ronan surging into her over and over. His whisky-hued eyes bore into hers, and she reveled in the possessiveness she saw. She was certain it equaled what she felt toward Ronan. She would never accept them being apart, never accept anyone keeping them apart. She moved with him, her fingers digging into his buttocks as she urged him on, matching his hedonistic wildness with each move. The burn and ache in her core exploded into fire as waves of pleasure swept up her body, tightening her nipples and making her breasts heavy before spreading into her limbs. Her toes curled as her head pressed back against the pillow, her throat straining with each breath.
“Dear God, Abby,” Ronan groaned as he watched his wife’s release. As her core spasmed around his rod, he felt his seed pour into her. His buttocks clenched as he ground himself against her, drawing out her climax.
“You’re mine.” The unequivocal claim suited Ronan. Abigail’s words weren’t those of a jealous woman, but they were possessive. They matched Ronan’s sentiments as he nuzzled her neck. He settled onto his forearms as Abigail’s gestures became tender as she stroked his hair and back. His kisses were gentle now that the frenzy subsided.
“Abigail, I love you. And I’m so proud of you my heart might burst.”
“I think that’s just from exertion,” Abigail giggled.
“There is that.” Ronan grinned ruefully. “But I’m serious. You’re brave and resilient. A bit more reckless than my heart can take, but you did what I didn’t. You rescued us.”
“Ronan, I know I took a risk that could have wound up with us both dead, but I’d do it over again, knowing there was even a slight chance that you’d be free.” Abigail tucked blond locks behind Ronan’s ear before they rolled onto their sides. She hesitated to ask but pressed on. “Are you bothered that it wasn’t you who did the rescuing?”
