She must be a sinful person after all, for she sat here thinking on all the things they should be doing...all the things she wanted to do with him. When her body began to heat and ache in places he’d touched that night, she tried to think on something else.
Looking around for something to divert her attention, she found nothing in the old priest’s cottage to stop her wayward thoughts. He lived simply in this one room, though the comfortable bed was unexpected. The best thing was that it was larger than most beds to accommodate the priest’s large frame. She smiled thinking on his name—Ceallach—which meant warrior. From his size and strength, he must have served some earthly lord before becoming God’s servant.
He’d carried Jamie here as though naught but a bairn and placed him in the bed. Then, saying he had to visit a sick villager, he gave them leave to stay here until he returned in two days. His larder held food and supplies, which he also told her to make free use of. His last bit of instruction—to close the door and windows and not open them to anyone—forced her to remember that her brother would come here. And he would be furious after what she’d done.
Especially if he meant what he claimed—that he did not plan to force their return to Lairig Dubh. Well, if he had shared that bit of information with her sooner, it could have saved all of them much pain and suffering. She doubted that Dougal, Shaw and Niall would think of it like that, especially since it would be hours before their bodies calmed and the retching and other effects stopped.
Would they come here looking or would they return to the earl directly? No matter now, they were married and would face whatever challenges came together.
When night fell and he slept on, she took off her gown and slipped into bed at his side. It should have felt strange to do so. It did not. She had undressed him already so she carefully slid closer to him, laying her head against his shoulder. Sometime in the night, she woke to find him staring at her.
“You are here?” he asked, lifting his hand up to caress her cheek. “I thought it might have been a dream.”
“It happened. You spoke the words before the priest and we are married.” She touched his face then, outlining his chin and mouth.
“Where exactly are we?”
She smiled. He’d been unconscious when Father brought him in here. “In Father Ceallach’s cottage. He has gone off to visit some sick villagers and given us the use of it for two days.”
“Two days? A generous man, he is,” Jamie said.
Elizabeth could see that he was yet exhausted and in pain. Desire warred with practicality within her. Love won out and she leaned in and kissed him lightly.
“Rest now. I would have you able to enjoy what I have planned for you, husband.” She felt his flesh rise and press against her hip. And she laughed.
“I am not dead,” he said in a supremely masculine way.
If he would not have a care for himself, she would. She must. “Sleep now, Jamie. Heal. And if you feel this way in the morning, I will not stop you.”
There was honest acceptance in his eyes so she knew part of him might be ready but the rest of him would suffer. He took her hand in his and held it on his chest. In only moments, he slept, telling her how right she’d been.
They had the rest of their lives together and surely one night’s delay meant nothing.
In the morning, he proved to her that neither he, nor the rest of him, was dead.
Chapter Thirteen
Three months later
Elizabeth was having the most marvelous dream.
Jamie kissed her body and teased her to excitement with his mouth and hands. There was no place on her or in her that he had not touched and loved since their marriage. Now, she ached and throbbed. She was on fire from his caresses. She lay on her back and opened herself up to him. Whatever he wanted to do, she would do it.
Not wanting to wake up from such a wondrous, hot dream, she kept her eyes closed tightly as he created that ache deep inside her that she did not want eased...yet. She would want his mouth there, in that scandalous way she’d never dreamt possible, licking her deep between her legs, suckling on that place that would make her scream.
And scream she did as her body wound tighter and tighter and tighter, and then released. Even as she cried out in the pleasure of this release, he began it anew with his fingers moving there as he skimmed his mouth over her body, kissing and laving her breasts on his path to her face. The musky taste of her own essence on his mouth forced her to open her eyes.
It was not a dream.
“Good morning to you, wife,” he whispered as he bit her neck gently. The feel of it made her arch against him as though a cord connected places within and he pulled on it with each touch and taste. “I wondered if you would sleep through all of it.”
“I think I like being awakened this way, husband,” she said, her voice rough from the first release. His fingers did not relent, not giving a moment for her body to cool.
“I know. You asked me to do it.”
She laughed then, unsure of whether she had or had not. He rolled her to her side so he could kiss her neck and use his teeth on that sensitive spot she liked him to bite. Elizabeth followed his whispered directions until he lay behind her, with his fingers still there, rubbing and making her want more. Soon, she could not laugh or speak. He used her own desires, telling her what he wanted to do to her, with her, on her, in her, until she lay panting and sweating against him.
He lifted her leg over his and entered her from behind, making her gasp at his speed and depth. With his hand wrapped around her, tormenting the already heated flesh there and his cock plunging deep from behind, she went limp in his arms as he pushed her to another peak. Just as she fell apart with her second release, he slid his arm around her and lifted her onto her knees.
