Page 69 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

Then he pulled out halfway and thrust back in—and all thought vanished.

She cried out, her back arching, her heels digging into his back. The friction, the fullness, the stretch—it was too much and not enough, all at once.

He moved again, slow and deep, grinding his hips against hers with each thrust. The bed creaked. Her moans filled the room.

“Ruaridh—faster—please⁠—”

He gave her what she wanted.

His pace picked up, his thrusts turning sharp, hard, relentless. She matched him, hips rising to meet every stroke, the heat between them growing unbearable. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, and he leaned down, sucking one into his mouth as he drove into her.

She nearly came from that alone.

He thrust her harder now, his rhythm wild, hips slapping against her with raw force. His hand gripped her thigh, spreading her wider, deeper.

She was right there—on the edge—gasping his name with every breath.

“I’m—Ruaridh—I’m⁠—”

“Come fer me, lass. Let me feel ye break.”

She shattered around him, crying out so loud she didn’t recognize her own voice. Her body clenched tight, milking him, pulling him deeper.

He swore, loud and filthy, and followed her over the edge, burying himself to the root as he came inside her. She felt every pulse, every twitch, his whole body trembling with the force of it.

He collapsed over her, bracing his weight on his elbows, breath ragged.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close as the aftershocks rippled through her.

For a long moment, they just breathed—sweat-slicked, tangled, trembling.

Then he lifted his head and looked down at her. His face was soft now, his mouth swollen, eyes filled with something tender and dangerous.

“Ye touch me in new ways every time, Iona.”

Her throat tightened. “Say it again.”

He kissed her nose, her cheeks, her lips. “I said… ye touch me in ways I never thought possible.”

She smiled, blinking tears from her lashes. “I feel it too, Ruaridh MacDuff. And I’ll not take it back.”

He rolled onto his side, still inside her, and pulled her with him. Their bodies remained joined as sleep stole over them, wrapped in firelight, and a bond sealed in more than just flesh.

They had crossed a line tonight.

And neither would ever go back.

Afterward, as they lay entwined in the soft candlelight, Iona traced lazy patterns on his chest.

"So ye really had feelings fer me when we were children?" she asked softly.

"Aye. Though I'm fairly certain what I feel fer ye now is considerably more... mature."

She laughed, the sound vibrating against his chest. "I should hope so."

Outside their chamber, the sounds of celebration continued, but in their private world, they had found each other.