Page 121 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

His hum sent vibrations through her, heightening her pleasure until she was teetering on the edge of an earth-shattering orgasm. But just as she was about to fall, he pulled away, leaving her breathless and aching for more.

Positioning himself above her, his throbbing manhood aligned with her entrance, he commanded, “Look at me, Elinor.” His voice was thick with need, and she obeyed, her eyes locking with his.

In that moment, she saw everything—his love, his desire, his unyielding devotion. He thrust into her in one smooth motion, filling her completely.

“Aye, that’s it,” he groaned, his hips snapping as he began to move, pounding into her relentlessly.

Elinor wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting each thrust with a desperate hunger, her folds clenching around him as pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo.

“Harder, David,” she demanded, her voice raw with need. He obliged, his hands gripping her hips as he slammed into her, the furs rustling beneath them, the room filled with the wet sounds of their bodies joining.

The rhythm was primal, urgent, each thrust a declaration of their love.

“Come fer me, lass,” he growled, his thrusts becoming frantic as he felt her walls flutter around him.

They moved together, finding a rhythm that was familiar now but no less intense for it. Elinor felt the tension building inside her, coiling tighter and tighter with each movement.

"That's it," David murmured, his forehead pressed to hers. "Let go. I've got ye."

Elinor’s eyes rolled back as she called out his name, her orgasm ripping through her like a storm. David followed, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself deep within her, his seed marking her as his own.

Collapsing onto her, he pressed a kiss to her sweat-dampened hair, his heart pounding against hers.

Elinor’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his back as she whispered, “I love ye, David.”

He smiled, his lips brushing hers. “And I ye, Elinor. Ferever.”

They lay tangled together on the sofa for awhile, both breathing hard, skin slick with sweat despite the coolness of the room.

"That was splendid."

"Aye." David's laugh was breathless. "It was."

They stayed like that for a long time, neither wanting to move. Eventually, David shifted enough to pull a blanket over them both, wrapping them in warmth.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much." Elinor traced patterns on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly return to normal. "Thank you."

"Fer what?"

"For being here. For understanding what I needed even when I didn't know how to ask for it."

"Always, lass." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "That's what marriage is, aye? Being what the other person needs. Even when they dinnae ken they need it."

Elinor closed her eyes, letting herself accept that maybe, despite everything, they'd found something genuine in the midst of all the lies and deception.

"I was so worried today," she admitted quietly. "About what would happen if the Regent didn't believe us. If he decided to annul our marriage. I realized—I realized I didn't want that. Not because of the practical implications or what it might mean for my safety. But because I didn't want to lose you."

"Ye'll nae lose me." David's arms tightened around her. "I promise ye that. Whatever comes, whatever happens—ye're stuck with me now."

"Good." She snuggled closer.

He shifted, adjusting their position on the sofa so they were more comfortable. "We should probably move to our chamber."

"In a minute." Elinor didn't want to move yet. Didn't want to break the moment. "Just, let me stay here a little longer."

"As long as ye want, lass."