“Och, lass, ye dinnae ken what that does to me.”
The sound of his voice was low against her hands as it rumbled through his broad chest.
“Tell me.” Her voice was a roughened whisper. “What does it do to you?”
“I’d rather show ye.”
She rose, pushing her hands under his tunic to his shoulders. “I’d rather you show me, too.”
When she nudged the material further, he complied, helping her remove it. He dropped it to the floor at their feet.
As she kissed him again, she realized with some deep satisfaction, his face was covered in stubble. It was rough against her face and, she realized, she wanted to feel it chafing her skin. The moment the thought sprang to her mind, she shivered as a little mewl escaped her.
“Do ye like the way I kiss ye, then?” he whispered against her mouth.
“I thought that was obvious.” She raked her knuckles over the coarse hair on his chin. “Are you growing it back?”
He lifted a brow in question. “Do ye no want me to?”
“I kind of like this in-between state.” She gave him what she hoped was a lazy, sexy grin.
“Then it stays for as long as ye like.”
“Good.”
She wanted to say,now let’s get on with it so I can feel that stubble on other intimate places,but she refrained. It seemed too brazen even for her.
Instead, she quickly stripped down to her shift while he shucked his boots, kicking them aside. Then she got busy removing her woolen stockings. She understood the need for all the layers, but it was doing nothing but causing a delay in what she wanted most.
Moments later, they were both undressed and slipping under the thick blankets together, bare skin sliding against bare skin. For a man of the Middle Ages, his was smooth. His hands, though were rough and calloused. Especially his sword hand, which landed on the flat plane of her abdomen.
Chloe stretched out, opening her thighs to him and arching her back. His hand slid between her legs, moving inside her. Her eyes fluttered closed the moment he touched her. She rocked against him, long and slow, enjoying every touch, every breath that whispered over her skin, every kiss he placed along the long column of her throat.
Her hand fumbled between them until she found his hardened length and wrapped her hand around him. They moved together, coaxing each other higher and higher. The force built deep inside her, pounding through her. She archedher back, letting him move deeper. Her pleasure came in a pounding, wild beat, shuddering through her until she cried out.
Malcolm moved on top of her, pulling her to him with his strong hands and then slid inside her before her climax subsided. She cried out as he moved against her, bringing her to the edge once again.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down to her. Their mouths fused in a heated kiss. In a perfect moment, they came together. When it was all over, he collapsed to the bed, pulling her to him and cradling her against him.
She rested her head on his shoulder, her hand flat on his chest to feel the rapid beat of his heart. Her own heart matched his, beat for beat. They had come together in a way she had never expected to come together with anyone. He loved her like no other. He looked at her as though she were the most beautiful woman in the world. He treated her as though she were precious, to be cherished and loved all the rest of her days.
And when she thought this, she realized the truth. She would never be able to return home. She understood, then, how her sister felt about Callum. She also understood the power of the prophecy and that their destinies, no matter how she wanted to deny it, were intertwined with each other.
Her life would never be the same.
***
The keystone under Evie’s pillow hummed so loudly it woke her from a deep sleep. Her heart pounded a wild, erratic beat as she sat up to reach under the pillow for the stone.
“What is it, lass?” Callum’s sleep-filled voice asked next to her.
But as he said it, and her hand closed around the stone, the vision pounded through her mind with a furious energy she had never felt before. She’d seen the outcomes of Callum’s deathwhen he fought the battle against Rory. She knew if she didn’t intervene then, he would die.
Now, she saw the potential outcome of what was to come in the present. The glowing great axe. The MacDonald using the power of that great axe. The army transporting themselves to Dundale without marching for days. The castle under siege. The battering ram pounding the gate. The army pouring inside to find her and Chloe.
She sucked in a breath as the vision ended as quickly as it had started. Callum was sitting up straight, reaching for her. Her gaze found her husband’s, glittering with concern.
“They are coming,” she whispered.
