Maeve tightened her legs around his waist, her hands gripping his hair. She pulled slightly, making him look up, and caught him in another deep kiss, their tongues dancing, their bodies pressed tightly together.
Cailean turned, carrying her to the bed and laying her down, then immediately joined her. They lay tangled in each other's arms, touching and kissing, and though they were still mostly dressed, there was something enticing about the way his handsfelt through the silk of her celebration dress. The space between her legs pulsed with heat and need, and as he unhurriedly caressed her, her need grew beyond her control.
When his hands strayed to her ribbons, she put out her hands to stop him.
"Leave it on," she gasped, her body aflame as his fingers trailed across the soft material of her bodice.
He cocked his head, a question behind the hunger in his eyes.
"Ye might be patient, but I'm nae," she said. "I want ye. Like this.Now."
Cailean's grey eyes widened, but then the heat in them flared. He needed no more invitation, and he loosened the ties on his own trousers, allowing them to fall away. She stared at his bareness, marvelling at him as she always did, and the need was so intense inside her that she felt almost breathless.
"Now,Cailean," she half-whimpered.
Cailean's hands moved to her skirts. He clearly needed her as much as she did him, but he still took his time, hiking her soft skirt up inch by inch, then ever so slowly loosing her underclothes. He positioned himself between her legs and leaned down to kiss her once more, as his chest pressed against her once more, hot against the silk.
When they joined, Maeve let out a deep sigh, and they began to move together. Her legs wrapped around him again, urging him on.
The friction began to build, their bodies slipping sensually against her dress, the bareness of their legs against one another like a heated flame, and Maeve surrendered to the climax as it hit her all at once.
As she cried out his name, Cailean caught her in another kiss, and she rode it out against him. Before she had even come down, he whispered her name, and her body lurched again, the muscles taut as indescribable heat and pleasure pulsed throughher. Cailean followed her soon after her second high, grunting out her name in a way that made her whole body shiver as they finished.
He collapsed against her, and she held him, hot and sticky in her dress, sweating and panting and happier than she'd ever been in her life. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. Though the cord was now tucked away, she could still feel it wrapped around their arms, binding them together, declaring their love in defiance of everything that had ever been against them.
Eventually, she let go and he rolled off. They lay side by side for some time, not speaking, just enjoying being by one another's side.
After perhaps a quarter of an hour of just being with each other, Maeve sighed and sat up, giggling in an uncharacteristically bashful way as she saw the state of her dress. "I suppose I should go and bathe," she said. "This would be a terrible state for a queen tae be caught in."
"Indeed," Cailean replied, his eyes travelling over her body with clear appreciation. "Need any help with that?"
Laughing, Maeve set off toward the washroom, Cailean close behind her, content that for now, she had found herself in the truest kind of paradise. Come what may, Maeve and Cailean had been bound together by fate—and nobody could ever break them.
EPILOGUE
Cailean and Maeve walked cautiously toward the laird's room of Bruce Castle, which Kier had ceded to Cailean's control for as long as the castle served as the rebellion's base. A messenger had arrived not long before with urgent news, and Cailean had instantly been on alert. He'd been surprised to learn, though, that they were not under attack—rather, a cohort of soldiers had arrived led by a mysterious woman, insisting that there was a message they must pass on to the rightful king.
When the pair arrived in the receiving chamber, Darren was already in place at the side of Cailean's seat. He gave Cailean a swift grin and Maeve a wink as they entered, confusing Cailean more. He hadn't been expecting to find his friend so relaxed. Sitting on either side of Maeve and Darren's seats, filling out the rest of the great table, were the four council members.
"What is this?" Cailean asked as he and Maeve settled into their places. "Has Ferda returned from her mission with soldiers tae join our cause?"
A flash of concern crossed Darren's face at that. They hadn't heard from his cousin in many weeks, and as time went on since Cailean's return, it was beginning to feel more suspicious.However, before he could answer, the door opened again, and the visitor and her cohort of soldiers walked inside, escorted by Fergus and Deirdre.
Cailean forgot what he'd been talking about at that moment, all of his attention and surprise taken by the figure who led the group. She had changed in the weeks since he'd seen her; she was fuller in figure now, her hair clean and styled, her dress modest but cleanly well-made. She looked positively regal, all the gaunt tiredness gone from her face, and she met Cailean's eyes with a fierce confidence that made him glad that this was an ally and not an enemy.
"Lady McKenzie," he greeted, getting to his feet. Chairs scraped around him as the others hurried to do the same. "It does me heart well tae see ye not only escaped, but thrived."
Maeve gasped at his side. "Lady McKenzie!" she exclaimed, then covered her mouth. "Forgive me, I… ye look so much like Sorcha."
Flora McKenzie smiled faintly at that. "Aye. If only me niece had been able tae escape as easily as I did."
"We havenae given up on her," Cailean promised, though he knew that Sorcha McKenzie was just one of the many loose ends that faced them on the long, tough road ahead. "Murtagh McKenzie will pay for what he's done, and Sorcha willnae be made tae suffer for longer than she needs tae."
"I ken that ye cannae focus on the lass right away, dinnae fear," Flora told him, though there was a tinge of sadness to her tone. "Winnin' the war is more important. I owe ye me thanks for savin' me life, Cailean McNair, and now it's time I returned the favor."
Cailean blinked, looking around at the soldiers. Many of them looked older, but none looked any the less fierce for it, each of them with a sense of strength and loyalty emanating fromtheir very being. He wondered from where they had come—had she gathered them on her journey? What had been her story?
"A cousin has been shelterin' me," Lady McKenzie explained as if she had heard his unspoken question. "But now isnae the time tae hide away. Clan McKenzie belongs tae me lost son, and I intend tae claim it back in his name. And Scotland… Scotland belongs tae a king who loves her. I am here tae pledge the power of these loyal men and of meself tae yer cause, if ye'll have us, yer Majesty. The power of me cousin's clan and all of those who still remain loyal tae McNair amongst the McKenzies—there are more than ye might think. And, of course, whatever strength an old woman can bring now that ye've given her another chance at life."
