Chapter 25
On the bed, her sisters slept soundly. Leana watched them, realizing that only after they had cried and assuaged their doubts about what was happening did they feel calm enough to fall asleep.
The problem was that Leana herself could not fall asleep. Especially now that she knew this would be her last night at the castle.
For the past two weeks, she had begged Kenneth to let her go, only to learn the hard way that sometimes getting what she wanted was the worst thing that could happen to her.
She did not want to leave this place, much less now that she knew she loved Kenneth, but her departure was inevitable. It was only a matter of hours before she had to leave.
So, she decided to make it a memorable last night, and without delay, she took a candle and marched silently through the quiet corridors, up a flight of stairs, until she finally reached the Laird’s room.
He was awake and waiting for her, the soft glow of the candle casting flickering shadows across his face. His long, dark hair fell loosely over his shoulders, the unruly strands framing the sharp angles of his jaw.
The white fabric of his shirt, loose and slightly wrinkled, clung to him in places, accentuating the strength beneath.
As she approached, he opened the door with a quiet, deliberate movement, his eyes locking onto hers—steady, silvery, filled with something unspoken.
He extended a hand toward her, his fingers warm as they curled gently around hers, a silent reassurance, a promise. Then, without a word, he stepped back, leading her inside with a slow, inviting pull.
The candlelight flickered as he set it down on the table, the golden glow reflecting off his gaze before he turned back to her. His touch was unhurried, reverent, as he drew her against him, his arms enveloping her in a quiet certainty.
The night stretched ahead of them, thick with possibilities, and in his embrace, she felt every single one of them.
No word was uttered at that moment. Leana, at least, knew that she had no strength or desire to speak. She only wanted—needed—to give herself to the man she loved, so she was glad that he seemed to be driven by the same desire.
His hands roamed over her body, easily lifting her white nightgown over her head, baring her to his gaze. Kenneth stepped back and took her in, admiring the play of candlelight on her milky white skin.
Suddenly, Leana felt exposed and shy. Her hands moved up to cover her breasts, for she had never stood fully naked in front of a man before. But Kenneth took her hands and lowered them to her sides.
“Nay. daenae cover yerself,” he murmured in a husky voice that melted her insides. “Ye’re beautiful, Leana Beaton. And ye deserve to be admired and praised.”
His words made unfurl in her chest. Her name, or rather the way he pronounced it in that deep, reverent voice, made her feel not like a mere human, but like something divine. Almost like a goddess.
Maybe Maxwell Aitken and Laird Matheson were right. Maybe she was a witch, after all. But if there was any magic present, it was only caused by the desire Kenneth awakened in her.
He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to his bed, kissing her with intensity and passion.
Leana’s fingers tangled in his hair. She felt her heart racing, beating so hard that it wanted to break her in two.
Her whole body ached with anticipation and nervousness, but never before had she felt so alive, so ready to love and be loved.
Kenneth laid her on the bed and climbed over her. His shirt came off easily, and she took the opportunity to kiss his torso, first biting his broad, muscular shoulders and then trailing her tongue down his chest, feeling the little tufts of hair tickle her.
Her lips traced his skin with devotion, remembering the wound she had healed weeks ago despite his stubbornness.
He had taken an arrow for her, to save her. Now, it was her moment. She had the chance to save him, to heal his heart just as Brenda had said she could.
Suddenly, a hoarse moan escaped his lips, and he pressed her into the mattress, trapping her hands beneath his own. Their kisses became more urgent, salty with the sweat on their skin.
Kenneth lowered himself between her thighs, and she writhed beneath him as he played with her nipples, tugging and sucking on them till they hardened.
Leana closed her eyes when she felt his hand move down her stomach.
His fingers trailed over her mound, before she felt them glide into her folds, caressing her.
Her lips parted on a moan when he applied the slightest pressure to that little bundle of nerves, but her sounds were quickly swallowed by his mouth.
Carefully, he slid a finger inside her. She felt the tantalizing pressure, and she let out a gasp as Kenneth pumped his fingers into her.
He looked down at her, a wicked gleam in his silver gaze, before he moved down her body.
His tongue trailed down her stomach and dipped into her navel, then he gently bit the flare of her hip.
And then he buried his face between her legs, tasting her.
When his tongue flicked against that bundle of nerves, Leana thought she would burst.
It was unexpected and so, so satisfying. Her fingers tangled in his hair as her hips bucked. She cried out his name over and over as his tongue circled and teased her bud.
But before she could reach her climax, he stopped. He propped himself up and looked down at her as if even in the silence, he was professing all sorts of truths that, until now, he had kept hidden from her.
At the same time, he pushed himself up from the bed, the movement fluid, effortless, like a predator rising to its full height. The fabric of his pants slipped past his hips, pooling at his feet, but he paid it no mind.
He straightened, standing before her with unshaken confidence, his breath steady, his broad chest rising and falling in measured rhythm. The candlelight flickered, casting soft shadows over the contours of his taut, muscular frame, accentuating every ridge and hollow of his body.
His thick black hair tumbled over his shoulders, wild yet regal, framing his face—a face carved by strength, by quiet determination. He held her gaze, unwavering, the intensity in his dark eyes rooting her in place, making her pulse thunder in her veins.
She watched him stand proud as a god, with his thick black hair falling over his shoulders, and his body taut, firm and muscular. His erect member jutted proudly between his legs, and he grabbed it, as if in invitation.
Leana let out a moan as she watched him approach.
Kenneth climbed onto the bed, slowly kissing her inner thighs. He tasted her just once, then slowly whispered, “Are ye sure this is what ye want?”
He moved up her body so he could look her in the eye.
Leana felt the tip of his erection brush against her thighs, and another moan escaped her lips.
With tender hands, she removed his eyepatch, allowing herself to drink in the face of the man she loved. Her fingers slowly stroked his cheeks, his hair, his lips.
“I’m sure,” she promised, ready to receive him inside her.
And Kenneth, without delay, eased himself inside her. Slowly at first, with one of his hands resting firmly on her thigh.
Leana tensed up for a second as she felt a twinge of pain. But then her pleasure grew as she adjusted to his size. His body pressed against hers, firm and unyielding, radiating a heat that seemed to seep into her very core.
She gasped, her breath hitching as the sensation overwhelmed her, a mix of intensity and longing she hadn’t known was possible. Every movement, every touch, sent ripples of fire through her, igniting something deep within—a feeling so consuming, so raw, it left her trembling in its wake.
Moans spilled out of her as Kenneth started thrusting into her.
And though she was an expert on the body and its weaknesses, she understood that she had never before understood what pleasure was.
She had never understood the truth behind that delicious surrender and the way she could so longingly desire to belong to someone. At least, not until that moment.
But now she knew that she would never feel such pleasure again unless she was in his arms, that her lips would be like a wasteland if he did not kiss them.
That she would slowly wither away, never to see the light again, unless he was there to be her sun, the breeze that, like spring, would make her bloom.
She understood this as she surrendered, shedding tears of joy and pleasure. With his lips on hers and her eyes closed, a single sigh flowed from her lips like a prayer. A plea that echoed in the air over and over again.
“I love ye,” she said. “I love ye, I love ye, I love ye, I love ye…”
And in response, Kenneth kissed her deeply, passionately, as she reached her climax.
Her walls clenched around him, and after three more thrusts, she felt him convulse as he surrendered to the pleasure.
Their lips tangled amid gasps, and his hands roamed over her deliciously, in what seemed to be a promise that would last as long as the night.
In his arms, Leana slept peacefully. She had given herself to Kenneth as often as her body would allow, but finally, at the break of dawn, exhaustion had overcome them both.
Now, with only a few hours before her departure, Kenneth understood that he would have to let her go. That the woman sleeping in his arms would leave to make her own way, and that he would not be a part of that story.
Over the years, he had endured many losses. But the longer he watched her, the more he realized that he was not willing to give her up.
At least, not without putting up one last fight.
“I love ye,” he confessed.
But Leana did not twitch, deep asleep.
Kenneth trailed his lips over her forehead, her closed eyelids, and her chin, just before tasting her mouth again. “I love ye… and I want to marry ye. I want ye to stay here, by me side.”
He thought that maybe she didn’t hear him, but suddenly, a sigh escaped her lips.
Leana sat up so she could look him in the eyes. “I thought that ye… that ye didnae care whether I left or nae,” she admitted in a tremulous voice.
“The only reason I have thought of lettin’ ye go is because I ken ye give yer body and soul to healin’. And I have nay desire to keep ye from it… unless ye want to stay,” he said, brushing her hair from her face.
Leana bit her lower lip. She rested one delicate, thin-fingered hand on his chest and looked up at him with devotion in her blue eyes.
“I love ye,” she murmured in a sweet tone, filled with affection. “And though I love me work, I think I love ye more.”
“It isnae me desire to make ye choose between bein’ me wife or a healer,” Kenneth assured, kissing her forehead, touched by her words. “Ye can do both, as long as ye promise to stay with me.”
“I will, but only if ye promise nae to kidnap me, or any other lass, ever again.”
A chuckle burst from Kenneth’s lips. “Aye. That’s a promise I can keep.”
“Then I say aye, too.”
“Ye say aye to what?”
“Aye,” Leana whispered, a radiant smile on her face. “I will be yer wife, Kenneth Sloan.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she kissed him slowly.
“I want to be with ye forever,” she breathed.
Kenneth cupped her face in his hands, his heart almost bursting with joy. He took her lips in a slow, deep kiss, and she could not help but let out a giggle.
With the dawn announcing itself through the windows, amid sighs and gasps and moans, the Laird kissed the beautiful healer.
The woman who would soon be his wife.