The groan that he let out against her folds at her pleas reverberated all through Freya, the sensation traveling all over her mound and making her shiver. All it took was a few more tender swipes of his tongue over her folds for her to reach her climax, shaking and writhing under his mouth and lips, calling out his name in a moan.
Afterwards, she collapsed onto the bed—or at least her arms did, her chest colliding with the mattress. Her hips remained up, James holding her like that, now devouring her with his gaze as she twitched helplessly around nothing.
“Even here, ye’re so bonnie,” he said as he traced a finger over the seam of her folds. “I want ye so bad, Freya. I want naething more than tae be inside ye.”
Freya could only answer with a soft moan, tilting her hips back in silent invitation. James wasted no time before he shed the rest of his clothes, and once again, Freya glanced over her shoulder to watch him as he gathered some of her wetness to slick his manhood, giving himself a few firm strokes.
“Spread yer legs,” he said, gently urging her thighs apart with his free hand. “Go on… spread them.”
Freya did as she was asked, letting her knees fall wider, her hips tilting upwards. She couldn’t help but feel vulnerable like this, exposed, but the slow, almost awed breath James took as he gazed at her was enough to overshadow any doubt she had.
There was no part of herself she had to hide from him. They loved each other; she wanted to share every part of herself with him.
As James took himself in his hand and lined himself up with her entrance, Freya’s toes curled in anticipation. When he finally breached her, slowly pushing inside her until he was buried all the way to the hilt, Freya’s heart skipped beat after beat, her breath coming out in short gasps. Instantly, she felt full, James’ manhood stretching her in the most pleasurable way. And when he began to rock his hips, grunting with every thrust that pushed him deeper inside her, she couldn’t help but melt into the sheets, letting him bring them both the pleasure they so desperately craved.
Just as she was reaching her peak again, her moans turning high-pitched and needy, James stopped, much to her surprise. Instead of continuing his thrusts, he only let his hands roam over her body, caressing her hips, her back, then around her torso to cup her breasts and tease her nipples.
“I cannae get enough of ye,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. “Show me how much ye want it. Take what ye want from me.”
With a soft moan, Freya pushed herself to her hands and began to rock back slowly into James, sinking back onto his manhood. Every movement of her hips drew another groan out of him and Freya could tell that he was enjoying watching her from the way he twitched and throbbed inside her.
“That’s it,” he praised her, pulling his hands back to trace the place where they were joined with a finger. “That’s a good lass.”
Freya preened under the praise, flushing a bright pink as she rolled her hips again and again, chasing her orgasm. After all that teasing from James’ part, it was easy for her to reach that peak and after a few more thrusts, that familiar pressure began to build in her belly once more until it finally exploded, her orgasm crashing over her all at once.
Her core pulsed with pleasure, moans tumbling past her lips as she clenched rhythmically around James. In turn, he grabbed her hips and worked her through it, plunging himself deep inside her again and again until he, too, reached his climax, spilling inside her with a groan.
Ever so slowly, he pulled away from her and settled next to her on the bed, immediately gathering her in his arms. Freya settled against him with a soft, satisfied hum, curling into his warmth, into the solid muscles of his chest.
Though her fears had not completely subsided, she trusted James to protect her, to take care of her. He would get to the bottom of all this. He would make sure she was safe.
“I love ye,” he whispered against the crown of her head, caressing her hair gently. “And I’ll make sure I make me parents understand why ye’re so important tae me. They’ll come around… I ken they will. I will help them see that our happiness is more important than this alliance.”
Freya didn’t know if that was true, though she didn’t point that out. James’ happiness was important to her, of course, but she also knew much of it hinged on his clan’s prosperity. He was not someone who had the luxury of putting himself first. He had so many other people to think about—so many duties, so many responsibilities he could not ignore. Freya couldn’t ask him to forget about all that.
If it came down to her versus his duty to his clan, she didn’t know what he would pick. She didn’t know what she would want him to pick, either.
But she was too afraid to voice those words. She feared that she would inadvertently speak them into existence, that she would make them come true just by speaking them out loud.
Instead, she burrowed even deeper in the covers, even deeper in the hollow of his arms and let him hold her. It wasn’t long before he was asleep, but sleep evaded her entirely. All she could do was lie there, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of his heart and his breathing, repeating to herself the same phrase over and over like a prayer.
Everything will be alright.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Though the morning had begun pleasantly for James, with him waking up in Freya’s arms and the two of them sharing a few slow, unhurried kisses before they got up to start the day, now it was proving to be more and more unpleasant.
“Where are they?” James demanded as he reached the two cells that were meant to be holding the men who had attacked Freya just the previous night. He had given explicit orders to the guards to lock them up and keep an eye on them, but now the dungeons were completely empty. There was nothing there but the damp draft that came from the cracks in the door and the crackling of the torches as they burned on the walls, the heavy breathing of the guards filling the silence.
“Where are they?” James repeated in a roar. The two guards flinched, but neither of them said a thing. They only glanced at each other, their faces turning a sickly pale shade.
James walked up to one of them—the younger one, who would not even look him in the eye. He didn’t stop until he was right in his face, lips twisting into a snarl.
“I asked ye a question.”
“I… I dinnae ken,” the man said. “I swear it. I dinnae ken. The cells were empty when we came here fer our rotation.”
James cursed under his breath. Someone—presumably Alastair himself—had let the men escape and now James would never get the full truth out of them or the chance to have them punished for treason.
