“What do you seek, my lovely wife? If it is a gown, I must admit, I prefer you in this,” he said, as he stepped up behind her, slid his hands around her waist, and pulled her hard against him.
“My gown, the purple one.”
Angus smiled. He loved seeing her in that colour.
“It is here,” he said, and drew her over to a standing wardrobe near his bed. “I had the maids freshen it up for your return.”
“You knew I would return?”
“I hoped.”
“And now that I am here, and yours, what will you do with me?” she asked, turning to peek up at him.
Angus nuzzled her neck, loving it when she tilted her head back. He took full advantage of the tender flesh and grazed his teeth across her neck. She shuddered.
“Will you think me very wicked if I say I want you again right now?” she asked.
Angus kissed her neck, her jaw, and her ear. “I will never stop loving your positively wicked nature.” He slipped his hand inside her sheet and pinched her nipple. She gasped.
“Bend over a little,” he said.
She bent forward, and he pulled the sheet from her body, exposing a perfect behind. Angus was hard and throbbing, and desperate to release inside her. He pushed her feet apart slowly with his and rubbed the tip of his erection along her slick heat. Annabella pushed back to take him, and he stayed as still as possible to allow her to adjust to his size.
“I want all of you inside me,” she said.
Angus could wait no longer, and thrust deep within her body. She tilted her head back and held onto the wardrobe latches. He held her hips tight as he drove into her harder and harder until her body rippled with pleasure, tensing and pulsing around him. Angus stiffened as his seed spilled into her body, and shook hard with each wave of his release.
This woman completed every part of him, body and soul.
EPILOGUE
Iona, Scotland
The thick mist in the distance parted briefly, revealing lush, green hills. Annabella could barely contain her anticipation at finally seeing Iona. She had heard much about it from Angus, and was near ready to burst with pride at the thought of him formally succeeding his father as the Lord of the Isles.
As they neared the shore, the monastery came into view. This beautiful island had been used to cultivate the religious community in this land for centuries. St. Columba had visited here and designated this island holy ground, and Annabella could see why. So perfect was it in its marriage to the sea and sky that truly it was a piece of heaven resting upon the earth.
She turned to her husband, whose eyes were trained on the shoreline, gazing across as if looking for something.
Annabella turned her head in the direction in which he looked, and smiled. His father was there, together with several priests, awaiting them on shore.
“Are you nervous?” Annabella asked him.
“I am not,” he said.
“Then why does your hand shake?”
He looked down at it, and then at her with a grin. “You are not supposed to notice such things,” he said.
“I notice everything about you, my lord. Right down to the way you squeeze my breasts in your sleep.”
He smiled. “And I notice how much you snore.”
She gasped. “A gentleman is not supposed to mention such things to a lady.”
He leaned in close to her ear, his breath fanning her neck and sending shivers down her body. “I am no gentleman, my lady.”
“That you are not,” she said, laughing.
