Page 95 of Claimed Highland Brides

CONSUMMATION

Delwyn watched as Jamesina settled on the feather bed, bouncing a little before settling down against the pillows. Her fiery hair fanned out on the white pillows and he stared in fascination at the picture she made.

All this is mine?

Sometimes he wondered what curious fate had landed him here. Everything so unexpected, even though he’d set out to achieve exactly this purpose. His mother’s words echoed in his mind as she handed over her treasured brooch.

“What good would it do to wear it on my breast if my daughter is lost?”

Her daughter was still lost and Delwyn had the chance to get her back. Should he let that chance go just because he was a little enamored of his new wife?

What kind of man would that make me?

“What are ye waiting for?” Her soft voice brought him back to the present and he put his knee on the bed before leaning forward and blanketing her. He kissed the hollow between her breasts, before licking his way to one distended, brown-tipped nipple.

He suckled for all he was worth, milking from her every moan and groan and whimper that he could. She squirmed beneath him, wordlessly asking for things he was all too happy to give. He parted her legs, one finger questing, seeking that swollen nub that wrung from her such sounds of suffering that he might have thought she hated it if she was not thrusting up at him with needy moans.

He wanted to be inside her with an urgency he’d never felt before. Widening her legs, he straightened up, to look her in the eye. Still holding her gaze, he reached up and tweaked her nipple even as he pushed into her. He could see her trying to focus on every single sensation assaulting her, eyes shifting from his hand to the place where they were joined before rolling back in her head. He thrust again, slowly, carefully, going deeper.

She gave a long low moan, her body shuddering, and he pushed through until he rested his body upon hers. She made a loud keening sound and arched up, causing him to move involuntarily, his hips jerking even as he closed his eyes tight and stilled his muscles, wanting to give her time to adjust to his length and girth.

He could hear her panting as he ran his hands down her flanks as if soothing a spooked horse.

“It’s alright. The pain will disappear in a minute.”

“I-it’s fine. I-I dinnae feel pain.”

He opened his eyes, looking skeptically into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Aye” She nodded slowly, still panting with fast shallow breaths. He blinked a few times, unsure if she was lying but knowing that he would be physically unable to stay still for too much longer. Deciding to take her at her word, he blanketed her with his body, taking her legs and wrapping them around his waist.

“Hold on,” he murmured into her ear as he began to thrust in earnest, his eyes scrunched tight against the sheer all-pervading pleasure of having her warm wet flesh enfold his iron-hard arousal.

The tiny whimpering sounds she made with every thrust were driving him round the bend and he did not know how long he could keep his pace unhurried and gentle when all he wanted to do was gather her legs up and back, until her knees were touching her shoulders, and nail her fast and furious into the soft bedding.

He snaked his hand between them, finding that nub again and rubbing at it as he increased the tempo of his thrusts. She began to squirm beneath him, moaning and pleading, driving him out of his mind.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Let go.”

She threw back her head with a sharp cry as her body erupted. Shuddering gasps escaped her throats as she shook from head to toe, arms spread out wide as if she was crucified to the bed, body convulsing.

“Yes, that’s it. Let it go.”

She gave one last whimper before collapsing beneath him with a boneless whimper. He took that as his cue to do as he pleased and gathered her legs in one hand, pulling them up so that her center was exposed to him, his length splitting her like a peach. He blinked, just watching himself thrust in and out of her before he let go and jerked forward, pistoning into her ruthlessly, taking his pleasure as savagely as he’d wished to do before.

Her eyes flew open as her mouth went slack and she blinked at the ceiling, hands scrabbling uselessly at his arms as if she had no energy to grab hold. He slowed down slightly, afraid that he was hurting her, but she moaned and arched her back, wordlessly urging him on.

He let go of any restraint that he was still holding on to and really doubled down, his hips pistoning jerkily, head thrown back as his hands held her legs up and away to give him the space to work. She let out a cry and began to convulse again. Pride pulsed through him as he realized that he’d made her orgasm once again. As her insides milked him for all she was worth, he let go and spilled his seed forcefully within her, as his face stretched in a rictus of effort.

Afterward, he let go of her legs, sinking slowly to the bed beside her and watching as she panted hard, blinking at the ceiling seemingly shell-shocked.

Slowly, he smiled. “Are you alright?”

She turned her head to blink at him instead of the ceiling, “Is it…always like that?”

He could not help the smug pride from spreading to every facet of his being. “Not always, no.”

“Oh.” She turned back to staring at the ceiling.