Their lips touched, and his body ignited with every wicked sensation known to him. He wanted to hold and protect her, talk with her about anything she desired, and make love to her every night for the rest of their lives.
As he broke the kiss and stepped back to regain his wits, Fraser stuck his hand out. “Congratulations, Captain Kai.”
Kai took his hand.
“And to ye, Lady Miran, I wish ye love and comfort.” Fraser kissed Miran’s cheek.
“Thank ye,” she said.
“Now, let us celebrate with the feast my wife and Mistress Kinnear have prepared.”
Hours after eating and drinking their fill with nearly the best people Kai had ever met in the Highlands, Miran gave him a tired smile and yawned. Aye, twas time to go to bed. He stood and offered her his hand.
The rest of the guests stopped talking and focused on Kai.
“Thank you for sharing this special night with us, Craig and Rossa. Fraser and Mary, your generosity will never be forgotten. We have a lot to do tomorrow, so without further delay, we will retire for the night.”
“Ye are always welcome here,” Fraser said. “I consider ye another son. My wife prepared yer bridal bed in the room in the stable. I hope ye find it comfortable.”
Before she could refuse, Kai swept Miran into his arms and carried her outside and toward the stable. They had waited long enough for this night.
*
Standing in frontof each other with only the light of candles and the brazier, Miran reached up and touched her handsome husband’s face. The day’s growth of dark stubble on his cheeks and chin made him even more exotic, more brutal looking, more desirable to her. He leaned into her hand, moaning as she traced his jawline with her fingertips. “Ye are everything I ever wanted, and some things I never thought I’d accept.’
He laughed at that. “I could say the same of you, sweet one.”
“Oh?”
“Aye.”
She dinna care, really, but liked to jest. Keeping her gaze on his face, she unclasped the MacKay brooch at his shoulder, letting part of his tartan fall away, revealing a broad shoulder. Then she lifted his linen shirt over his head, taking in his tanned skin, his sculpted chest, and the scars that he’d earned in battle. He was perfect in every way, powerful and intimidating, almost too beautiful to be real.
“What is it, lass?” he said in that practiced brogue that made her shiver.
“Ye are beautiful.”
“Aye?” he asked.
She dinna answer, but knelt to remove his boots, then his braes, which she struggled to unlace.
“Let me.” He showed her how to tug on the leather lace just right.
After he stood naked in front of her, his manhood thick and long and ready for her, she trembled.
“We are made to fit together,” he said, caressing her face. “Will you let me show you?”
She nodded and closed her eyes just as he started to undo the front laces on her gown. She helped him lift it over her head, then stood only in a thin shift.
“You have lovely breasts,” he whispered, gently touching one of her sensitive, hard nipples through the material. “I love how they fill my hands while I kiss you.” And he did just that, stepping into her and covering her mouth with his.
She felt adrift as he kissed her harder and deeper, than lifted her and carried her to the narrow bed they would share. “Miran,” he breathed her name. “I do not want to wait to be inside you.” He set her down.
Miran kneeled in the middle of the bed and slipped the straps of the shift down her arms and wiggled out of it, revealing her flesh, unafraid to give herself to him. Strong fingers wandered down her arms, then slipped underneath one of her breasts. She closed her eyes just as his mouth took hers again, his tongue seeking hers, everything about him, his taste and smell, the feel of his calloused hands on her hot skin, and even the sound of his hitching breath, filled her senses.
“Lie back, sweet one.”
She slowly positioned herself in the middle of the soft mattress, her thighs opening for him.
