He grinned. “A few times, aye,” he drawled, affecting his new family’s brogue. “I can’t believe you talked me into wearing a skirt on my wedding day.”
“A skirt!” Scoffing, she smacked his chest, then began to rub it gently, and the caress went right to his cock. “You cannot live in the Highlands and call it askirt.”
He rocked his hips forward, centering his hardness against the warmth of her core. “Lysander explained some of the handy aspects of a kilt.”
Humming interestedly, Ember slid her hands across his shoulders. “Like what?”
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Easy access.”
She stifled her giggled against his lips.
But then, just as he was really getting into things, she abruptly pulled back. “Max, I want to see Tiffany and Bonnie.”
He started. “What?Now?”
Her gaze cleared, and her lips slowly curled upward. “No, no, I am sorry. I am quite happy to be here alone with you right now.” As if to prove it, she tilted her pelvis forward, her warmth cradling his already-aching erection. “And I am ever so grateful to your family for hosting our wedding. But after what you said about the baroness downstairs, I wanted you to know that about them.”
He was struggling to follow along, with the delightful distraction of her so warm and willing in his arms. “About themwho?What?”
Still smiling, she slipped away from him, reaching up and over her shoulders to unbutton her gown. Max’s mind went blank.
“I just wanted you to know I am not putting mysistersbehind me. I will happily never speak to Machara again, but Tiffany and Bonnie are still my sisters. I want them to be happy.”
Struggling to focus on what she was saying, Max forced his attention away from the bare skin that was emerging, inch by inch. “Uh…alright. Yeah, sure.” Personally, he wasn’t certain Tiffany deserved happiness. But at that moment, he wasn’t going to start an argument with his wife. “Whatever will make you happy, my love.”
Abruptly, Ember turned her back to him. “It would make mehappy, husband, if you would finish with these buttons. I need this gown off me.”
Max’s mouth went dry.
As he stepped up to her, she reached for the pins holding her glorious red curls in place. Of course she hadn’t worn a cap today, and although he knew she’d have to pin her hair up when she worked at Oliphant Engraving, he vowed to ask her to wear it down when she was at home.
His fingers felt overly large as he fumbled with the tiny buttons, but he was rewarded as each victory revealed more of her.
She hummed quietly and tilted her head to one side so her hair could cascade over her shoulder. The motion brought her neck tantalizingly close to his lips.
“I know you said you were worried about this gown, Max,” she murmured, “but I suspect an hour or two on this clean rug will not harm it.”
It was as clear a blessing as he was going to get. When the last button popped free, the sudden surge of joy wrenched a little cry of victory from his lips, and he pushed the gown over her shoulders and down her arms.
Before it could pool around her legs, he’d stepped forward, pressing himself against her back, so her luscious rear end cradled his hardness. As his lips dropped to a bare spot on her neck, she moaned and tilted her head to one side, giving him better access, and his hands found her corset hooks.
In a moment, that too joined the gown on the floor, and when he cupped her breasts through the thin cotton of her chemise, they both groaned in pleasure.
“Max!” she gasped, pressing herself backward against him, her arms reaching over her shoulders to twine her fingers in his hair, “Ineedyou!”
“And I need you too, wife.” In one quick movement, he’d spun her around, and although he gasped in surprise, she didn’t hesitate to reach for the pin holding his ascot in place. The thought of her undressing him made him even more desperate to have her.
As she pulled his jacket off his shoulders, he lowered his lips to her skin once again. Her little mewling sounds had his cock pulsing against his kilt.
“Ember, are yousureyou’re ready for me?” he groaned.
To his surprise, she pulled away, but only just far enough to meet his gaze. Then she took his cheeks in her palms and smiled softly.
“Maxwell Oliphant, if you do not cease blathering and make me yours this very moment, I shall bequitecross.”
His lips twitched. Who was he to argue? A happy wife meant a happy life, and he could make her happy indeed.
Ember gasped happily as his lips found one of her nipples, and her fingers suddenlycompletelyforgot how to manage buttonholes.
