“I see. I think I could manage that.” Still playing with her, he unbuttoned his trousers with his free hand and kicked out of them, thankful he hadn’t yet donned his boots. God, she was so close, and it was so tempting.
He had to close his eyes to steady himself before he released her to sit on the edge of his new bed and scoot backward. With his proper shirt and cravat, waistcoat and dark jacket above, and nothing below, he must have looked quite a sight, but he didn’t give a damn.
“Come here,” he growled, reaching out and catching hold of her skirt.
With a breathy laugh she complied, hiking up her skirt and clambering onto the bed beside him. He took her hand so she could steady herself as she straddled his hips and then far too slowly sank down around him.
Finally. Sliding his palms up her thighs, he thrust upward, meeting her as she bounced up and down on him. Hot, tight, and his. For a man who’d never expected to fall in love, much less see a future the two of them could share, the desire, the possessiveness he felt both aroused him and shook him to his core.
But with her hands planted on his chest and her head thrown back as she made mewling sounds in time with his thrusts, shewashis. All he needed to do was prove to her that he was the man she and Lattimer needed. And inside her, feeling the exquisite ecstasy of her climaxing around him, he felt like he could do anything.
For a veteran soldier it was an unexpected and heady sensation. He didn’t quite trust it, but he damned well enjoyed it. As the tension inside him stretched to breaking, he sat up to take her mouth. “Do I stay or go?” he groaned, finesse drowned out by need.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sinking onto him almost frantically. “Stay,” she moaned thickly, shuddering again.
He couldn’t hold back any longer. Spilling into her, he lifted his hips convulsively.Mine, mine, mine,thudded through him as he came hard and fast.
For a long time he held her, feeling her heart pounding over his. Gabriel tried to catch his breath, sinking back onto the mattress again. Fiona fell forward to sprawl across his chest. He wanted to tangle his fingers through her hair, but settled for curling a straying strand behind one ear.
Whoever the tenants here claimed allegiance to, for the past four years Fiona had looked after all of them. And still she’d managed to find room in her heart for one more lost soul. With her in his arms, he could see a future. And it had been a very long time since he’d even thought in terms of years rather than days, or even hours.
“You are a very bonny lass,” he murmured, stroking her cheek.
“Ye’re nae so bad yerself, Gabriel. And thank ye fer nae mussing my hair.”
He chuckled. “You’re welcome. Tonight, though, no clothes.”
Fiona lifted her head to kiss him. “I find those terms acceptable.”
His door handle rattled, accompanied by a thud and a wumph. “Damnation,” Kelgrove’s voice muttered. “Your Grace?”
“I really need to find him a position he wants to take,” Gabriel murmured, wrapping his arms loosely around Fiona. “What?” he called.
“Oscar sent a stable boy up to the castle to request that we borrow all available farm wagons. It seems half the county is gathering at the river and means to come to the picnic to ‘set their oon eyes on His Grace.’ That is a quote.”
Fiona nodded against his chest. “That would be grand, to include them.”
“See to it, Sergeant. Make certain you ask, not order.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have the kitchen bake more bread,” Fiona whispered. “And pull another barrel of whisky from the larder.”
“Adam,” Gabriel called, “you should also ask Mrs. Ritchie to bake as much bread as she can manage. We can always send back up to the house for additional supplies, if that proves necessary.”
“I’ll see to it, Your Grace.”
“And pull another barrel of whisky out of the larder.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Kelgrove paused. “Is there anything else?”
“Is there anything else?” Gabriel whispered to Fiona.
“Nae, I cannae conjure anything at the moment,” she returned softly, her voice amused.
“That will be all, Sergeant!”
“Thank you, sir!”
