“My wife,” he said, the depth of emotion in the two huskily spoken words pricking the backs of her eyes. “May God have mercy on any who try to take you from me.”
He wrapped his arms around her in a crushing embrace. A claiming so fierce, the steel links of his hauberk pressed into her, branding her.
Never let you go. The words came again, softer than a sigh this time, sweeter than a caress, and pouring a floodtide of light and warmth into her soul.
For a long moment, he looked deep into her eyes, that compelling intensity of his saying more than any hushed words she may or may not have heard.
Then…
“’Tis done,” he said, cradling the back of her head with one firm hand. He splayed the other around her hip, urging her closer still, molding her to his strength.
“Aye.” She leaned into him, sliding her hands along the broad reach of his shoulders, ignoring the whispers of doubt warning that with the giving of her kiss, she’d also lose her heart.
That danger paling beside the headiness of his embrace, she looped her arms around his neck and met his descending lips halfway, her boldness amply rewarded by the mastery of his kiss.
The seizing not just of her lips, but of her very essence. A display wholly inappropriate for their sanctified surroundings, but so bone-meltingly right, its sheer glory stole her breath.
She swayed a bit and his arms tightened around her, drawing her higher, more intimately against him. “You are mine,” he affirmed, pulling back just enough to sear the claim against her cheek.
“Now and henceforth,” he breathed, slanting his mouth over hers for one last taking of her sweetness.
A gift she gave freely, parting her lips beneath his, boldly inviting the full sweep of his tongue and matching it with the heated glide of her own.
A sensual frenzy, a desperate tangling far too rousing to indulge in on the chapel steps, before the final blessing, and in full view of all who’d braved the day’s bluster to see them wed.
At last he tore his mouth from hers, but didn’t ease completely away until he’d sealed their vows with a softer, gentler kiss.
The merest hush of his lips over hers, the slightest parting touch of his tongue to the very tip of hers. Whisper-sweet, but powerful enough to wrest a groan from the very bottom of his soul when he finally set her from him.
A groan so loud in the silence surrounding them, he couldn’t even muster his field-of-battle stone-face.
Not even the muted thunder of de la Hogue’s furious departure from the ridge helped gather his wits.
His heart thumping, he smoothed his surcoat, the crushing quiet whirling around him, drawing all focus on his passion, his loss of control.
Even the wind seemed to have held its howling breath to spy on his lusting.
Unaccustomed heat crept up his neck and he turned his back on the gaping throng, more shaken than he cared to admit. Braving the wide-eyed shock of the priest, he grabbed his wife’s hand and pulled her inside the chapel for the nuptial mass before the crowd’s hoots and cheers could begin anew.
His men weren’t so easily thwarted.
“Ho! Did you e’er see the like?” Sir Gowan roared, his deep voice cutting the stillness. “Would that Duncan were here to witness the Sassunach’s surrender to a kiss!”
The Highlander’s mirth unleashed a fresh wave of jubilation so rowdy, even the solemnity of the fusty-aired nave couldn’t hinder its intrusion.
Blessedly, his men settled as they filed inside the holy place, their knavery contained to impatient shuffling, a few elbow jabs, and a smattering of over-exaggerated eye rolls.
Determined to ignore them, Marmaduke held fast to Caterine’s hand as they knelt for Father Tomas’ final blessing. And if it came with more of a quaver than there would have been had he not just helped himself to a wild-slaking kiss from his bride’s tempting lips, he pretended not to notice.
If a worse fate than suffering his men’s antics and testing Father Tomas’ sensibilities did not befall him before the dawn, he would deem himself a well-blessed man.
His head still bowed, he slid a glance at his bride. Thick-fringed lashes, surprising black for one so fair, rested on her cheeks, and the golden coils of her braids gleamed in the candlelight.
Her lips moved in silent prayer, promptly recalling the sharp, heated lust that had speared through him when they’d moved so sweetly beneath his in their first shared kiss.
The first of many, and all manner of them.
At the thought, elation swept him. A joy so boundless even his devils didn’t dare question his right to revel in it.
