She sighed at how good the cool air from the loch felt on her pink nipples as he teased them with his tongue and nipped them with his teeth.
“What else?” she whispered, sighing with contentment.
“This…” he moaned, pushing her onto her back and hovering over her, his fingers slipping under her skirt to stroke her wet center. “This, wife, is all mine. Ye ken?”
“Aye… aye…”
“Good girl.”
She cried out when his fingers slid inside her, finding the perfect spot as they always did. It was maddening, her hips rocking against him, the sound of her arousal only egging him on.
“Mine,” Alexander growled as he pulled out his fingers and pushed his hard length into her, making her cry out in pure ecstasy.
He was an animal in every way at that moment, riding her, pressing against her, stroking her sex while his other hand teased her nipple.
“Alexander… A-Alexander… aye…”
“Let it out, lass. Let it out for me.”
“Ah! Ah… aye…”
Her climax was too swift, her body shaking and shivering as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She could feel his release as well, feel the warmth as he rolled onto his back and wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to lie atop him as she caught her breath.
“That’s me girl,” he murmured, his hands stroking her waist.
“I love ye, Alexander Gordon,” she said, resting her head on his heaving chest.
“And I love ye, Helena Gordon.”
EPILOGUE
The soft, golden late afternoon light spilled through the wide windows of Alexander’s study, warming the stone walls and glinting off the dark wood of the desk where Helena sat. Her fingers idly traced the edge of a ledger, though her thoughts were far from the page.
Alexander had asked her to wait for him there, and in the quiet moments of solitude, she thought back to the events of the past weeks.
So much had changed, yet the weight of it still lingered. The memory of her father’s burial, the tension among her clansmen as the truth unraveled, and the quiet resolve in her aunt’s eyes when she accepted her new role—they all clung to her like a stubborn shadow. Yet, amidst it all, there had been glimmers of hope.
Ewan, a distant relative from her father’s side, who was now in her care, represented not only the future of Clan MacPhersonbut also a chance to ensure that her father’s cruelty would never stain their legacy again.
She frowned slightly, her thoughts turning to the boy. What would she do with him? He was so young, barely old enough to understand the weight of his position.
She would raise him with kindness and fairness, she resolved, something her father had never shown her or Broderic.
The soft creak of the study door interrupted her thoughts.
Helena turned, and her heart fluttered as Alexander entered the room. His tall, commanding figure was framed by the door, his dark hair neatly combed, and his hazel eyes warm as they locked onto hers. He was dressed finely in a deep green doublet embroidered with golden thread and a crisp white shirt beneath.
“Alexander,” she said, rising to her feet. “What’s this? Ye look as though ye’re headin’ to a feast.”
He chuckled—a deep, rich sound that sent warmth through her. “Aye, I suppose I do,” he said, stepping closer. “But it’s nae a feast, me love. I have a surprise for ye.”
“A surprise?” she asked, furrowing her brow. “What are ye plannin’, Alexander?”
His grin widened, and he held out his hand. “Come with me, and ye’ll see. But first, ye must close yer eyes.”
She gave him a suspicious look, but there was a playful glint in his eyes that made her heart flutter. Reluctantly, she obeyed, closing her eyes and letting him guide her out of the room. His hand was warm and steady in hers as he led her through the corridors.
“Alexander, if ye have somethin’ ridiculous planned…”
