“I couldnae lose ye, Rory.” She stroked his cheek with her fingertips. “Walking away from ye last eve broke my heart. Spending any time with that, he is so vile I cannae e’en call him a man. I just couldnae. If my choice was to stay and marry him or throw myself o’er the cliffs, I would choose the cliffs.”
“Dinnae think such thoughts, Bluebell. Ye are free.”
She looked at him seriously. “I am no’.”
He cocked his head to the side, confusion drawing his brows down. “Why do ye say that?”
A huge smile bloomed on her face. “Because I am yers.”
He laughed, tumbling onto the ground with her, and pinning her body under his. “Aye, but of yer own free will. I would ne’er tie ye down or attempt to control ye.”
“I ken.”
Their lips met once more. This time the kiss was slower, not as frenzied as afore, and Rory’s body roared to life, his cock straining in his trews, weeping for release.
Rory lifted his head, looking around them. “Whilst, we appear to be alone, let us move off the main trail.” He hopped up, and shifted his hard length to a more comfortable position whilst he collected his pack and grasped the horse’s reins.
Leading them off the road, he played with the idea of getting her to the village, and renting a room at an inn for the night, but he didn’t think he could wait that long to sink himself into her warm softness.
He located a spot that would offer them shelter in the chance of rain, and would hide them from any travelers. Tying the horse to a nearby tree, he opened his pack and laid out his blanket.
Afore he could say aught, Alana was there, stripping off her dress, sliding down her stockings after she’d kicked off her boots. Confidently, she stood there, in all her naked splendor, and crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer. Moving quickly, he tore off his tunic. She didn’t need to tell him twice.
They came together, fiercely, rushed. Worried that this could be the last time, but they both kenned it wasn’t. There would be many nights ahead where Rory would take his time making sweet love to Alana. But not now. Nay. Right now, he needed to seat himself so far into her that he forgot his name as she writhed under him reminding him what it was.
Both naked as the day they were born, they fell onto the blanket. Rory’s lips found Alana’s pulse in her neck and nibbled, trailing small bites down to her breasts, where he pinched and licked and teased her nipples into hard peaks.
Beneath him, Alana moaned in pleasure, her fingertips feathering over his hair.
He dipped his fingers into her core, sinking into her wetness. “Ye are so ready for me, Bluebell.”
“I havenae stopped thinking aboot ye since yesterday,” she whispered.
“I couldnae stop either.”
“Make me yers, Rory Hart.”
He smiled, and nudged her thighs open, entering her in one long, hard thrust.
Her breath caught on a gasp, and she smiled blissfully as she met his eyes.
Their coupling was swift, fast, and hard. As if they were trying to convince themselves that it was real. That they were truly together.
And when they tumbled over the edge together, calling out each other’s names, Rory kenned that all would be well.
They slept for some time and when they woke, the sun was high in the sky.
Alana stretched, her beautiful breasts pointing to the sky above. Rory bent his head and captured a nipple in his mouth, tugging. She grasped his head and brought it up so she could kiss him deeply.
He sighed. He could spend all his days for the rest of his life and die a happy, sated man. But, they had business to attend. Things to discuss.
As much as it pained him, he stood, grabbing his trews and pulling them on.
“Must we leave?” Alana asked, her lips formed into a pout.
“Aye. There will be things we must take care of. First of which, the horse? Must we return it?”
She shook her head, her mussed hair swaying from side to side. “Nay. A gift from the stable boy.”
