She allowed herself to feel them all.
She was allowed to want her husband, to desire him in all the ways that she had been afraid to before.
Kaden pulled her over his lap, her thighs on either side of his, and she leaned down. Whatever pain he was feeling seemed to have been forgotten as she gently lowered herself onto his chest. She tried to be patient and not press so hard, but the amount of contact he was allowing was overwhelming.
His hands moved up her sides to her waist, his fingers pressing into her skin as he deepened the kiss. She wanted to feel his hands everywhere on her and had no idea how to express it. She didn’t have the words for what she wanted, but she knew that she wanted him.
She pressed herself against his chest, careful not to touch his wound, as her hands slid up into his hair, savoring the taste and feel of him. His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, asking for permission, which she readily gave.
It was the first time she could touch his chest so thoroughly. She could trace every one of his scars. She wanted to kiss each one and show him that the story behind them didn’t matter. She loved him, no matter what had happened in his past.
Kaden broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. She felt the loss right away.
“We should stop now if ye daenae wish to test me patience,” he groaned.
“I daenae want to stop,” she insisted. “I want to experience this with ye.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Here? Now?”
Emily swallowed thickly and nodded once. “Aye, or else I might lose me nerve.”
She let out a mirthless laugh. It wasn’t actually so much that she was jealous, but rather that she just didn’t want this moment to pass them by. While he rested, she had been so afraid that she might lose him. She had had plenty of hours to sit and think about what she might do if she had to return to Muir Castle without him. What that might look like.
She didn’t want to have to think about it ever again.
She had half a mind to tell him that he wasn’t allowed to die before her, no matter what. This was enough of a scare, and she certainly couldn’t take another.
Perhaps this was poorly timed on her part, but she needed to feel him. She wanted to feel alive and know that this was real—that their suffering was over and they were going to move on to the next chapter of their lives.
Kaden’s hands slid up the curve of her waist to settle around her ribs. “And ye are sure?”
Emily bit her bottom lip softly and nodded.
She reached down to her skirt on one side, hiking it up slowly to expose her thigh so that he would be tempted to rest his hand there.
And Kaden was only too happy to oblige.
His callused, scarred hand against her soft skin was a sensation she didn’t know how to describe. All she knew was that if she could have his hands on her from this moment on for the rest of her life, it wouldn’t be enough.
His hands roamed over the exposed skin beneath her skirt, and she let her head fall back as she sat astride him, a soft smile playing on her lips as she relished the contact. It widened when she felt him stiffen between her thighs.
She had wanted to feel his member against her core, and even through his kilt, she knew that the sensation was going to be delicious.
She tested the feeling, slowly rocking her hips, and he ground into her. She was sorely tempted to rush the thing. Lift her skirt to her waist so that she could enjoy everything a husband had to offer his wife.
“I love ye, ye ken?” Kaden whispered against the side of her face as she lowered herself again.
She pressed herself against his chest, and his hands cupped her buttocks, moving her against his length teasingly.
“I think I might ken that,” she gasped as his lips trailed down the column of her throat.
She wanted to warn him to go slow, to be mindful of his wounds. But selfishly, she couldn’t force the words out of her lips.
“Ah, perhaps I just need to show ye then, so ye ken that I speak the truth.”
Emily accommodated him, leaning forward so that he could kiss the swell of her breasts while unfastening the laces at the back of her gown with his free hand.
His hand splayed over the line of her back the moment he found bare skin, pulling her closer as the hand on her thigh moved her in place. The friction between her thighs made her heart rate quicken. She was going to make a mess of the front of his kilt at this rate.
