He pulled her close and claiming her lips in a passionate kiss. Their tongues danced, teasing and tasting each other.
“Bradford,” she whispered breathlessly, pressing herself against his hardened form.
“I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he murmured back, sliding his hand around her waist. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her ear, trailing kisses down her neck. She shivered with delight.
Skye tugged at the ribbon that held his cravat, freeing him from the confines. He groaned as her soft hands ran over his bare chest, mapping out every ridge and valley.
“Make love to me, Skye,” he breathed, his voice low and rough.
She unbuckled his breeches and slipped them down, her eyes trailing up to meet his again. A slow, sensual dance began—lips and fingertips, breaths and gasps. They fell back against the carriage seat, their bodies entwined, exploring each other’s souls through touch. Their chemistry was undeniable; the air filled with the scent of lust and longing.
“Merry Christmas, my love,” she whispered as she lowered herself onto him, her body welcoming him with a passion that took his breath away.
Together, they moved as one, lost in a world of desire and hunger, mirroring each other’s every moan and thrust. And in that moment, they knew that this was where they belonged; with each other, in this snowy Christmas wonderland of love.
When at last they were sated, she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He stroked her hair softly.
“I love you, Skye,” he said simply.
She smiled against his skin, her eyes sparkling with love and happiness. “I know you do,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I love you too.”
By the time Yorkshire came into view, both were thoroughly sated, snuggled in a tangle of blankets, the warming bricks at their feet having lost most of their heat. Skye smoothed her mussed hair while Bradford straightened his cravat, exchanging knowing smiles.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of Bradford’s estate, where a crowd awaited them. Beaming faces and cheerful shouts greeted the couple as they stepped out.
“Welcome home!” cried Bradford’s mother, embracing them tearfully. His father clapped him on the back while his sister and friends surrounded them. Skye’s parents and dearest friend hugged her joyfully before turning to greet him.
Surrounded by those they held dear, Bradford and Skye exchanged a loving glance. The future shone brightly before them, full of promise.
Bradford’s sister, Natalie, ushered them inside. “You must come and tell us everything.”
Skye’s cheeks flushed pink as all eyes turned to her expectantly. “Oh, where to even begin!” she exclaimed, thinking back on their whirlwind adventure.
“I suppose it started when we got snowed in at the Rosewood Inn,” she said, launching into the tale. “The blizzard came on so suddenly and raged so fiercely that we were trapped at the inn for over a sennight.”
Bradford chimed in, “We tried to make the best of it, of course. Long walks around the grounds, chess by the fire...” He trailed off suggestively, eliciting giggles and blushes from the women as the men gave knowing glances.
“It was all quite romantic,” Skye continued. “And once the storm finally passed, we were so eager to make our way to Scotland. The journey was breathtaking—snow-covered fields stretching as far as the eye could see.”
“Arriving in Gretna Green was like stepping into a fairy tale,” Bradford added, his eyes meeting Skye’s. “The quaint shops and cottages, all decorated for Christmas...it was magical.”
Skye’s voice took on a dreamy quality. “Our wedding was utter perfection. Just the two of us, exchanging vows in that dear little blacksmith’s shop.” Sighing happily, she described the intimate ceremony, the cheering villagers, the cozy wedding feast after.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than in that moment, when Bradford and I were finally declared man and wife,” she finished, grasping her new husband’s hand.
Murmurs of “How romantic!” and “What a beautiful story!” rang out amongst their loved ones. Bradford drew Skye close, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.
“Christmas in Scotland gave us the greatest gift of all,” he said warmly, “a joyous new beginning together.” Skye’s eyes shimmered with happy tears, her heart full to bursting.
Bradford smiled tenderly at his new bride, then raised his glass.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” he announced, his voice ringing out clearly. The chatter died down as all eyes turned expectantly to the newlyweds.
“First, to my darling Skye.” His gaze was full of love as he looked at her. “For your wisdom, your spirit, and most of all, your open heart. You’ve made me the happiest of men.”
She blushed prettily as applause and cheers erupted. Bradford continued once it had quieted again.
“To our family and friends, for your unending love and support on this journey.” Nods and murmurs of “hear, hear,” followed.
