“Then hurry up, baby,” he grins his demon grin at me as he pinches my clit and it’s over. He surges up and kisses me, burying the half moan, half scream that was about to erupt from me as my lower half explodes like a keg of dynamite, making all the bits and pieces of me fly apart as my brain disintegrates.
It’s all feeling; heat, pain, and pleasure wrapped together in a relentless knot. My clitoris is throbbing from his harsh usage and my pulsing channel is clenched against his fingers. I don’t care that his family is outside, that mine is about to arrive, or that my mascara is likely streaming down my cheeks.
The skirt of my dress is flipped back down and the grinning bastard helps me sit up, straightening my undies. “Such a good girl, coming for me.” I’m too overwhelmed to even try to bite him when he rubs his thumb, wet from me, over my lips.
Balancing on my elbows, I watch him adjust himself under his kilt. “Do ya’ want me to send the girls back in?”
“No, I would like to go into the bathroom by myself and melt into a puddle of shame, thank you.”
***
The “meet cute” story Lachlan and I had concocted got a workout that afternoon, everyone urging us to tell the story again and again. It sounded better with his storytelling skills and sweeping hand gestures and everyone seemed to believe us. I’m sure his brothers knew we were lying sacks of shit, but they enjoyed the retelling of the tale each time.
Zed and Elana visibly loosened up after a healthy portion of Macallan for him and three glasses of champagne for her. The MacTavish’s may live in a spectacular Georgian-style mansion with sweeping grounds and gardens, but they were kind andwelcoming to my family, acting like our bizarre elopement wasn’t sketchy at all.
“Miss me?”
“Marcus!” Spinning around, I fling myself into his arms. Marcus looks majestic in black tie, even with his paisley cravat and deep red velvet smoking jacket.
“Your hubby sent his helicopter to Glasgow for me,” he chuckles, hugging me fiercely. “I was ready to wet myself at first because I didn’t know if the pilot was going to take me up to ten thousand feet and boot me out of the chopper, but here I am.”
“I think the ‘I’ll murder Marcus’ portion of your relationship is done,” I whisper back. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
There’s a huge river behind our compound in Halifax Harbor that empties out into the sea. Marcus and I used to make boats from crisp leaves and paper sails torn from our school notebooks and put them in the current, watching the water sweep them away, spinning and bumping into rocks until a whirlpool would drag them under.
“I feel like one of our little boats in the river,” I whisper, and he hugs me harder.
“There hasn’t been a man yet whose will to live you couldn’t crush,” he chuckles, “you’ll have that hot demon bastard on his knees in no time.”
Thinking of Lachlan on his knees and pulling that orgasm from me earlier makes my entire lower half wake up and start shrieking for another round. “Oh, don’t call him that or he really will shoot you,” I say, “or son of a bitch. He takes the whole lineage thing very seriously.”
“Time for the toasts!” Their father, Cormac Senior lifts his glass. “You might think I would no longer be surprised by one of my sons calling me and casually mentioning that they were married.”
There’s a ripple of knowing laughter through the group.
“Though I dinna expect Lachlan to be making the call. This lad… I never pictured him settled down. Ever. So, to you, Aria King MacTavish, for civilizing my son - even slightly - welcome to the clan.”
“Welcome!” the crowd chorused.
Each of Lachlan’s brothers has a story about his mad behavior, like blowing up a rival’s jet in the aircraft hangar and sending a fireball high enough into the sky that the civil air patrol got involved and it took time and handfuls of money to ‘settle things.’
Zed’s complexion is getting greener with each toast and I nudge Marcus. “Please make a toast and distract Z before he vomits all over Lady Elspeth’s orchids.”
“To the beautiful couple!” Marcus orates, stepping forward and raising his glass with a swagger. “Sometimes, someone unexpected comes into your life out of nowhere, makes your heart race, and changes you forever. We call those people the police.”
There’s silence.
“Tough crowd,” Marcus clears his throat and steps back.
Zed hastily raises his glass and utters something well-bred about a beautiful couple and drinks to our happy future and my reproductive viability, which makes both Lachlan and Marcus change a chuckle into a cough.
“This isn’t so bad,” I say, relaxing the slightest bit as Lachlan wraps his arms around me from behind. The sky is shot with streaks of orange and red as twilight drifts into the night and the jeweled profusion of flowers sends a heavenly scent over the grounds with the ever-present Scottish wind. “Your family is very gracious.”
“You have friends here, lass,” he rumbles, kissing my hair.
There’s a quiet moment as the Scottish country band steps away from their instruments for a break, and that’s when I hear it. The faint, rhythmic buzz of an approaching helicopter.
Chapter Sixteen
