He carried her to their bed, kissing down to her breasts and belly. Her legs dropped open. Her hands found his cock. She wanted to guide him to be inside her. She wanted to squeeze him in the way he had taught her. She wanted to see the hunger in his eyes as he took her.
He spread her legs and let his hips drop between them. She was so ready for him, especially as he spent time suckling her nipples. She lifted her hips to him, she arched her back, begging for his penetration. But he lifted his head instead and asked what he always did in this moment.
“Be my wife.” It was a question, a plea, and an order.
She answered as she always did. “Take me.”
He did not. He rolled his cock along her folds. He thrust against her while her pleasure built. And they writhed together until madness overcame all. She climaxed with a cry. He spilled his seed upon her belly. And they kissed one another as if mere passion could overcome the growing distance between them.
Later, he helped her clean up. She remade their bed and pulled the covers over them. He held her tight, and she closed her eyes.
This felt good, pressed as she was against him. She liked his smell. She liked the sound of his breath and the beat of his heart. And she wished she had the words to understand why he’d been angry because she knew he was still at odds with her.
“Do you want a fountain in the bailey?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to learn about distilling whisky?”
“No.”
“I have tried to learn how to cook something other than stew. It hasn’t gone well.”
“I know.”
“Maybe Mrs. Boyce will come back soon and take charge of the kitchen. She’s been at your father’s camp, but has sent boys back and forth for supplies.”
He lifted up his head. “How do you know that?”
“Rhona told me. And what she doesn’t know, Deirdre overhears.” She lifted up to see him more clearly. “Did you know?”
“Yes.” He dropped his head back. “My father is growing tired of romping around the woods. He’ll be back soon.”
“Have they killed the wolf?”
“No. But he’ll kill a stag or something and pretend it was the wolf.”
“But won’t everyone know?”
He shrugged. “They know what they want to know.” Then he sighed. “I have to get the money from Edinburgh. I need the coin here before my father returns. Without it, I fear they’ll follow him no matter how much he lies.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Loyalty runs deep in Scotland.”
“But coin runs deeper?”
He snorted. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Then you should go. Maybe I’ll have learned how to roast a chicken by the time you come back.”
He smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead. “If Mrs. Boyce won’t do it, then cast her out. I like your stew well enough.”
“Actually, it’s Rhona’s stew. I just do what she tells me.”
“Either way.”
She quieted, relaxing more because they had made up, of a sorts. He still wanted something from her that she did understand. Or perhaps, if she was honest, she didn’t want to understand. It was much easier to pretend ignorance than face anything beyond her tasks for tomorrow. She let herself relax into his side as she listened to the steady beat of his heart.
