It was heaven and he moaned. Loud. But before he could think to worry about the noise, she was riding him, demanding his undivided attention. Her exquisite tightness threatening to undo him.
He could only moan. For some reason this seemed right. He decided she could have her way with him and prayed he’d be able to see her satisfied.
Making mewling sounds like a cat in heat, she shifted forward and back as she rose and fell on him in a very satisfying way. Helpless to her ministrations, he had to grip her hips at one point to keep her from setting him off too quickly, she felt that delicious.
When he lifted herléineto suckle her heavy breast, she stilled and threw back her head in pleasure. He prodded her again and was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure. Holding her hips still, he thrust into her until he met her in the heights of satisfaction.
Exhausted and covered in sweat, she collapsed against him, turning her face away to heave in great lungfuls of air. He did nearly the same, unwilling to remove himself from a place he’d longed to be for more than a week now.
They said nothing as their hearts began to slow along with their breathing. She was extraordinary and showed no signs of shoving him away.
A deep snoring resounded from the hidden pallet. They stilled like possums. Then burst out laughing.
“Shhhh.” Darragh put a finger to his mouth. “Do not awaken our hosts.”
Brighit giggled, her body quaking with the movements where his body should have been softening inside her. That didn’t seem to be the case. She nodded right before her wide-mouthed yawn took over.
“I have exhausted my lovely bride.” Darragh pushed the hair back from her face then traced her sweet pink lips, bruised a bright red from their passionate kisses. “My delightful wife.”
Her sleepy expression shifted into a smile, but she said nothing.
“Tell me ye will remember this come morning? That ye found great pleasure in my arms?”
Brighit nodded right before her head lowered to his shoulder and her quiet snoring began. Darragh sighed, content to hold her a bit longer and to wonder at how one woman could fit so perfectly against him. It was indeed as if she belonged there.
Chapter 17
Brighit awoke to the tantalizing smell of sweet cream and honey. The scent reminded her of her favorite childhood treat—oats dripping with both. Her insides rumbled, and she stretched her arms overhead.
Beside her, Darragh slept soundlessly, his arm still wrapped around her waist as if he were afraid to lose her even in sleep. She turned toward him, tracing the beard that grew along his strong jaw. A handsome man indeed, her husband.
Despite his concerns, she remembered everything about the night before. It had been wonderful—everything she’d hoped for.
“Yer belly is loud enough to wake the dead.” Darragh spoke with his eyes closed.
Her stomach growled again. “I cannot help it. I smell food and I’m hungry.”
“As am I.” Darragh yanked her close, his breath heavy in her ear, and said, “Ye are most satisfying,a ghráidh.”
“As are ye.”
“Ah, ye remember?”
She blushed, and he nuzzled into her neck. “My hope is that ye enjoyed it enough that we may try it again,” he continued.
“D'ye think they’ll hear us?”
He put her hand to his hardened length, covering it with his own hand. “They left a while ago. I’ve been waiting patiently.”
The idea excited her as did the feel of his heat beneath her hand. The slamming of the door jerked them apart.
“They’re satisfied, Mama. Do not worry so.” William’s words were followed by something heavy dropping onto the table.
“William,” Gwen hissed the word. “Our guests are still sleeping.”
“A moment,” Darragh kept hold of her hand, though he moved it to his heart, when she would have stood. “Ye cannot know what ye mean to me.” Her breath caught, and he glanced at the closed curtain as if he could see through it to the elderly couple probably working over the fire. “How pleased I am with ye.”
Her eyes widened, and she glanced away, embarrassed. “Are ye speaking of our love making?”
