He knelt on the bed and lowered himself over her, taking her lips in a searing kiss. He settled between her thighs, and she felt him against her entrance, already hard again. He pushed inside slowly, just the tip. She tensed, and he stopped.
“Breathe,” he murmured.
She did, and he pushed deeper.
They both gasped as she grabbed his shoulders. He pushed the rest in until he was buried to the hilt. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper.
He pulled back and pushed in again, setting a slow rhythm and causing the bed to creak beneath them. The pleasure built differently from before. It was fuller, and she could feel every inch of him moving inside her.
She matched his thrusts, and minutes later, she broke apart around him. A heartbeat later, he groaned into her neck and buried himself deep, pulsing inside her. He collapsed onto her, and they lay there in the dark, both breathing hard.
After a moment, she turned her head and looked at the wall above them.
“The tapestry is quite hideous, is it not?” she asked.
“Thank God.” His voice was muffled against her shoulder. “I daenae think I could stare at it for another day.”
Emma laughed.
“It isnae funny,” Logan grumbled. “It gave me nightmares. Do ye understand?Nightmares.”
They both laughed then, bodies shaking together, until the laughter faded and left only warmth and even breathing in the dark
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
By the time Emma reached the stable yard, it was already happening.
Men were speaking over one another in low, strained voices while the cow lay on her side in the straw, flanks jerking with each effort. Blood streaked her hind legs, and the smell hung thick in the hot air. A stable boy knelt by her head, his hands hanging uselessly, eyes too wide.
Emma dropped to her knees by the cow’s hindquarters before her mind caught up. She ignored the way the straw scratched through her gown and shoved her sleeves to her elbows. Her hair was tied back tightly so nothing could fall over her face.
A year ago, her body would have locked. The red on the cow’s legs would have swallowed everything else. Her vision would have tunneled, and her knees would have given out.
Today her hands stayed steady.
“The head is there,” Jenny said, calm as if this were the most casual thing in the world. She crouched beside Emma and pressed a folded cloth into her hand. “We help her breathe through it.”
Soon, the calf was delivered. It was the most beautiful thing Emma had ever seen.
“Look at you,” she cooed, staring at the calf with nothing but joy in her heart. “I will call you Joy. You look like a Joy.”
Isobel came to her side, gown darkened where it had caught the mess. “Well?”
Emma took the cloth and wiped her wrists. Her fingers trembled now that the work was done, but it was only the body catching up, not terror.
“Yes,” she said, her voice level. “I am ready.”
Isobel’s smile was quick and bright. She squeezed Emma’s hand tightly, then turned to help Jenny rub the calf dry.
Emma pushed herself to her feet. The first step was shaky. She went to the pump yard and washed until her skin felt like her own again. Clean water, rough soap, simple things. Then she changed into a fresh gown and riding cloak and crossed the inner courtyard.
The castle no longer felt like something that had dropped on top of her life. She had now found her place and could live properly in it without worrying about anything else.
She mounted her horse without thinking twice about it, and a groom passed her the reins.
“Me Lady,” he said.
