As he kissed her neck softly, he moved his fingers with a surprising deftness between her legs. She parted her thighs slightly, giving him all the access he could ask for, and he moved his fingers up to find a spot that was almost painfully sensitive to his touch. She gasped, and he pulled her face towards his, kissing her hard as he massaged her at that most sensitive point.
As he kissed her, his tongue slipping between her lips as his fingers moved between her legs, she could only focus on the pleasure building within her, not the doubts about where this would go, of what he would want from her when this was over, nor her questions about what would happen in their marriage, now that they were wed. No, in that moment, as their mouths moved with a hungry passion against one another, and his fingers guided her closer and closer to that blossom of pleasure she craved so much, all she could think of was them. Him.
All at once, she felt it; the rush of sensation, coursing out from between her legs to consume her entire body at once. She let out a moan against his lips, and he pressed his forehead to hers, staring into her eyes so he could take in the sight of her as she went over the edge and gave him what he wanted. His fingers stilled as her thighs closed around his hand, allowing her to push back against him in just the way she desired, setting the pace for a moment as the rush consumed her.
When she was done, she sank back against him, her legs shaking helplessly. He guided her toward the bed, laying her down upon it gently. Though she was still as naked as she had been before, she did not feel the same fear of having him see her like this. No, instead, as his gaze roamed her nude form, she feltthat desire growing again, insistent and wanting, even though she had only just sated it.
She reached for him, and he caught her hand in his. Bringing it to his mouth, he planted a kiss against her fingertips.
“Ye should rest, lass,” he murmured to her. And, though she longed to protest and ask him for more, she knew he was right. With everything that had happened that day, she had been left exhausted, her body spent from what they had shared.
“Will you stay with me?” she asked him. Though her words were bold, she couldn’t hold them back. She craved the feeling of his body against hers, wrapping her up in his arms where she belonged. She knew she would be safe there.
He hesitated for a moment, but his face softened.
“Aye,” he murmured. “Aye, I can dae that.”
He didn’t undress as he slipped into bed beside her, his arms still wrapped around her waist as he pulled her against his chest. The slow rise and fall of his breath against her body soothed her into an easy sleep, and, soon, she found herself drifting off into a well-earned rest.
Though what was waiting for her on the other side of that sleep, she knew not.
14
As Effie helped her lace up her petticoat, Amelia could hardly wipe the smile off her face.
Though she had woken that morning to find the Laird had left her to rest in her chambers, she had slept in his arms all night. And while they had not consummated the marriage in the traditional sense yet, she knew she was a damn sight closer to it than she had been the morning before.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of his hands on her skin, the way he had looked at her, as though she was the most perfect thing he had ever laid eyes upon, his tongue in her mouth, his teeth grazing her neck…
“You seem to be in a good mood this morning, Lady Amelia, if I may say so,” Effie remarked to her, as she went to fetch her dress from where she had laid it on the bed. Amelia flashed her a smile. She felt almost giddy.
“Yes, I suppose I am,” she replied coyly. She longed to talk to Effie about what had happened the night before, but she didn’t know exactly how to put it into words, or if it even would have been appropriate for her to discuss the goings-on in her bedchamber with someone who worked for Arran like that.
Effie cocked an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Aye, there was some talk this morning that the Laird slept here last night,” she remarked. “Is there any truth tae it?”
“One could say that.”
Effie laughed, pinching her playfully on the arm.
“Aye, I knew it! Well, it won’t be long till we have an heir here, God willing…”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Amelia replied, lifting her arms and allowing Effie to slip the dress over her head. Effie tipped her head to the side curiously.
“Oh, aye? And what makes ye say that?”
“I still have my… my virtue,” she explained, her cheeks flushing slightly. “The Laird and I indulged in… other pleasures last night.”
Effie’s eyebrows nearly shot off the top of her head.
“Is that right?” she murmured, shaking her head. “Well, I’d not taken the Laird for such a man, but I suppose…”
The two women dissolved into giggles. Amelia felt as though she was walking on air, though she and the Laird had barely begun to know each other in an intimate fashion. If last night had been anything to go by, the journey that lay ahead of them was to be an interesting one.
“Aye, I told ye, it’s not so bad when you start,” Effie remarked, as she helped her do up her dress. Amelia couldn’t help but let her mind drift back to when Arran had been stripping her out of it the night before. She could still remember the way his hands had felt on her skin, the confidence and skill with which he had touched her, as though he already knew that she belonged to him, and nothing at all would change that.
She nodded, sinking back onto the bed as Effie set about plaiting her hair. It was a routine they had fallen into most mornings, and one that Amelia found soothing. She herself had done the same for her sisters when they had been growing upand, while she was still getting used to the reality of allowing someone else to take care of her in such a way, she found the gentle tug on her hair relaxing.
