“Yer a sorceress, Skye,” Arran groaned as her walls fluttered around his member, drawing him in.
Reading her body like a book, he focused hard and managed to time his climax perfectly with hers. Just as she arched her back and neck, dug her fingernails into his arms, and let out a moan, he spilled into her.
The moment seemed to last forever as the euphoria coursed through them. Finally, when they came back down to Earth, Arran collapsed beside her on the bed, out of breath.
“Ye werenae lying,” Skye eventually managed through labored breaths.
“Best night of yer life?”
“I think so,” she replied, and the two laughed.
They wrapped their arms around each other, safe in their castle, and slept soundly, with their child growing between them.
Three Weeks Later….
Skye felt restless all day. She unfolded and refolded the beautiful little gowns her mother had made. Unmade and remade the sheets and blankets in the bassinet. Arran came in from making his rounds, and found her trying to tug the baby’s dresser from one side of the room to the other.
“Skye!” he exclaimed. “What are ye doing? Ye’ll hurt yerself!”
“It just doesn’t look right over there,” she explained. “I want to try it closer to the window.”
“But dinnae Ava say that too much light might be hard on the baby’s eyes?”
Skye sat down on the edge of their bed, and held onto her belly. “I just want everything to be perfect.”
Arran sat down beside her. “Oh, sweetheart. It is already perfect. Ye’re wearin’ yerself out. Why don’t ye come down to the little dining hall, an’ hae some’at ta eat with me. I think yer maither an’ Ava are already there.”
“I fussed at Ava, and at Maither,” Skye confessed. “I’m big as a house. Me back hurts, me feet hurt, an’ I ha’ the strangest feeling in me belly.”
“Ye do?” Arran asked. “Ye stay right there. I’ll be right back.”
Arran stuck his head out the door of their bedchamber and looked up and down the hall, until he spotted the footman on duty. “Ramey!” he exclaimed. “Rund down to the dining room, an’ ask Healer Ava to come up, please.”
The lad looked alarmed. “At once, Laird MacArthur. Is ought the matter?”
“Lady Skye has an odd feeling in her belly. I dinnae ken if it’s an ordinary feeling or something else. But Healer Ava will know. Step lively now. All manner o’ ill things could have happened while ye are palaverin’.
“At once!” Ramey said, hastening toward the great stair.
In just a few minutes, Ava came up the stairs, with Lady Helena following close behind. As she entered the room, Skye bent over, clutching her belly. “Ava! Something isn’t right. I hae a great pain.”
Ava sat down beside her, and placed one hand on her stomach. “Actually, it is quite right. Yer wee’un has decided that this is the day to come out an’ visit with us.”
“He has?” Skye asked. “I know the maithers-to-be cry out, but I dinnae ken it would feel like this.”
“No one understands it until they’ve given birth,” Ava said.
“Did ye ever?” Skye asked.
“Aye, once, long ago,” Ava replied. “But let’s not talk of that now. Rest a minute, whilest I make sure the birthing room is ready. Bringin’ a babe into this world is messy business. Ye’ll want to keep this room nice for when ye want to show yer wee un off.”
Skye bent over again, wrapping both arms around her middle. “Nice deep breaths,” Ava reminded her. “Think about the air flowing into ye and into yer babe. Keep yer mind on that. There now, that’s the way.”
Ava then turned to the young footman who still stood in the doorway. “Take Laird MacArthur to find Magnus. Tell him it is time to practice wood cutting, or to practice at the pels, or to even go hunting.”
“But won’t Skye need me?” Arran protested.
“Ye did yer part nine months ago,” Ava said. “Now ye need to go make sure there is plenty of wood to heat water, and a fine, nourishing meal ready for yer wife when she is done with her work.”
