He let out a chuckle, though there was little humor to it.
“Aye, I’d expect no less fae him,” he muttered. “He’s his father’s son, after all. And he sees you as a weak spot, a way to get close to the power that I wield as Laird. Archibald in the next in line for the Lairdship if anything happens to me. He wants nothing more than to see me fail so he can take my place. It’s all he’s ever been after, my life, my Lairdship. And I dinnae ken how he plans to use you to get there, but I’m sure that’s what he’s been doing, convincing you that I could never be a worthy husband to you, all of it.”
He shook his head. He struggled to find the words to tell her everything he felt, but he knew she needed to hear them. He had, for too long, kept them to himself, perhaps hoping that she would be able or at least willing to overlook those parts of himself. But he should have known the moment he took her as his wife that it would never have worked. She was too bold, too outgoing, too demanding, to let any of that slide.
She smiled slightly, to his surprise.
“I don’t care about Archie, or the power he seeks. I’m more worried about being a worthy wife to ye,” she confessed, and he frowned at her, baffled.
“What on earth do ye?—”
“Come, now, Camron,” she chided him gently. “Ye cannae pretend that ye don’t see it. I’m far from the kind of woman who would normally make for a Laird’s wife.”
“I’m no’ pretending,” he replied, lifting his chin. “What do you mean?”
She deflated, all at once, like she had been holding on to something for so long that she had no idea how to let go of it.
“I dinnae ken how to be a wife, Camron. Let aloneyerwife,” she admitted.
Whatever stubborn pride she had been clinging to finally seemed to be giving way, something real spilling from within the cracks.
“A Lady. I ken what people expect of me, and I doubt I’ll ever be able to live up to it. They expect someone meek and kind and patient, and I have none of those qualities, I never have.” She caught herself, looking away from him for a moment. “And I… I don’t know if I’m ready to be a mother,” she confessed. “I dinnae ken if I can even do that yet. I ken ye’ll expect it from me eventually, but I?—”
“Isla,” he murmured, and he caught her face in his hands before she could go spiraling any further along the path that seemed to have consumed her at that moment. “I dinnae want some perfect wife. God knows I’ve had plenty of women offer themselves to me as just that. I want ye, Isla. Just ye.”
She stared at him for a moment, her brows knitting slightly, searching for something in his words that she could pick apart. But she could find nothing, and he knew it well. He meant every word that came out of his mouth, and he would not have changed it for the world.
“I dinnae want ye to be perfect,” he repeated. “I just want ye—no, Ineedye to be mine, Isla.”
And, with that, something in her cracked open, something finally giving way to show the truth of what lay beneath. She brought her hands to his face, clutching at him because she could not for the life of her imagine letting him go. And then, at last, she brought her lips to his, a slow, soft, almost reverent kiss, as though she was promising him that she would be finally his.
And, as he drew her against him, their tongues coming together as the kiss deepened, he knew that they had finally settled what had lain between them for so long. Even when theyhad come together before, kissing like their lives depended on it as he drew her back to their bed.
It was the first time the two of them had come together in this way on their own bed, tangled in the covers as they held each other close. His hands skimmed down her face and along her neck, marking her out as his right then and there, promising her that she was enough for him, that she always had been.
He pulled aside the ribbon on her neck so he could kiss her throat, feeling the throb of her pulse under his tongue as her heart thudded against his. A soft moan passed her lips, and he moved to kiss it away, almost tasting her pleasure on her tongue as the two of them softened into one another at last.
They made light work of their clothes, tossing them aside as though they were nothing more than annoyances keeping them from truly and completely giving themselves to one another. She drew back for a moment to look at him once they were both undressed, her eyes grazing up and down his naked body as though she wished to commit it to memory, her fingers trailing down his chest like she was drinking him in.
Her cheeks darkened slightly as her fingers found the base of his manhood, drawing a slight groan from his throat as her delicate hand wrapped around him, pulling her closer to him, unable to get enough, unable to even imagine it.
But before he could give her what she desperately needed, he got to his knees instead.
“No’ so fast, wife. I have to taste ye, or I might die from it,” he whispered and slowly approached her sensitive spot.
“Taste? How—” One soft lick from his tongue had her whimpering around and forgetting anything she wanted to say. She surrendered herself to his ministrations, and soon she was a moaning and needy mess.
“Camron, please… I need ye,” she murmured, almost losing her mind, drunk in need and desire.
This time Camron obeyed his wife and gave her what she needed. He lowered himself on top of her, guiding himself to her sex and easing himself into her. She sank into the bed, eyes drifting shut for a moment to make sense of the delicious pleasure that was coursing through her body. He gripped her hips, guiding her up to meet him, letting her feel the length of him against her before he moved into her in one long stroke.
“Dinnae look away, wife. I want to see ye come undone for me,” his voice seductively low, leaving her no choice but to obey him by opening her eyes and getting lost in the glazed blue of his eyes.
The feeling of their bodies coming together was unlike it had been before. Somehow, though he knew they were still the same people they had been the first time, it felt more intimate, whatever walls had been up, finally crumbling at last. She tangled her legs with his, pulling herself further onto him, holding him still within her for a moment before she allowed him to move, as though savoring the endless sweetness of this feeling while she still could.
He moved slowly now, the pleasure promised, no rush to hurry it along. The warmth of him around her, of her body accepting and welcoming his, felt like a small piece of heaven he had been able to snatch from the sky above to lay claim to himself. He kissed her again, their breath mingling, their hearts pulsing in time with each other even beneath their skin. Every part of them was reaching for the other as though there was nothing more important than letting themselves see the parts of each other they had hidden for so long.
“Say my name, Isla. Let them all ken ye are mine,” he said as he bit the sensitive part of her ear.
