Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“ I love ye,” James whispered against her lips, and Freya’s breath caught in her throat.
Those three simple words were enough to steal her breath away and give her pause. Pushing James back just enough to look at him, she gazed into his green eyes, stunned into silence.
“I love ye,” James repeated, perhaps sensing her surprise. “Ye’re the only thing that matters tae me, Freya. Ye… ye saved me. Maybe ye’re right that I’ve changed, but if I’ve changed, then it is fer the better. I’ve changed because of ye and I dinnae regret that.”
It was a relief, hearing James admit he had changed. On the one hand, it confirmed her fears, which frightened her. On the other, putting it into words and acknowledging it meant that her fears weren’t unfounded—and if James thought the change was for the better, then Freya was prepared to believe him.
“I love ye,” she told him, unshed tears stinging her eyes. It was the truth, plain and simple. Only a few hours prior, she wouldn’t have admitted it, not even to herself; but now it was easy to speak those words aloud, because she knew James felt the same way. “Forgive me… I ken I’ve been acting strange but I couldnae help it. I?—”
“I understand,” said James, quick to reassure her. “It isnae easy fer ye, as it isnae easy fer me. But it’s all in the past now. I’ll take ye home with me, Freya. If… if ye agree.”
Even in her wildest dreams, Freya hadn’t allowed herself to ever think James would take her home with him if he ever remembered his past. She had always thought that having his memory back would mean the end of the road for them, that the pull of his old life would be too strong to resist even if there was no place for her in it.
But now there James was, offering her everything she could have asked from him. Wherever his home was, whoever he was revealed to be, Freya wanted this; she wanted to be with him.
“Aye,” she said, those stinging tears finally falling from her eyes. With a gentle hand, James wiped them away, beaming at her.
“Ye mean it?”
“Of course,” Freya said. “Of course I’ll come with ye, Na–James. Naething would make me happier.”
Her heart fluttered and soared. Her hands reached for him, holding onto his shoulders as she kissed him again, and the more he deepened the kiss, the more heat pooled deep in her core, her desire growing by the minute.
After everything they had been through in the past few days, it was a comfort like no other to have him this close, to feel his body under her hands. With trembling fingers, she traced the contours of his muscles over his clothes, pressing into the valleys and over the swells of his chest and stomach—each touch more enjoyable than the last, each caress stoking the flames of her need.
Every pent-up emotion, everything she had been suppressing these past few days, it was all swiftly transmuted into unbridled desire. Tensions between them had run high for so long that now their longing for each other had built up and there was only one outlet for it. Freya could feel the same yearning in James, in the way his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips and his lips demanded more and more from her, his tongue slipping past the seam of her own.
No words were needed between them. They moved in tandem, James pulling her into his lap as they kissed. Freya settled easily on top of him, her hips moving on their own accord as she writhed against him, every other thought quickly chased out of her mind. There was nothing but the two of them and the gentle breeze on her skin as James undressed her, pushing at the fabric of her dress until it had pooled around her waist.
It wasn’t the first time she had been nude in front of him, but once again, she could hardly fight the urge to cover herself. Some of her modesty was preserved by the long strands of hair that fell over her breasts, but then James pushed them behind her shoulders, his hands then following a path south. His fingers traced the swell of her breasts, stopping for a moment to tease her nipples and draw a surprised gasp out of her.
Even this simple touch was enough to make her feel as though her entire body was on fire. It didn’t help that James was so warm against her, his hands a stark contrast to the chill of the night air, his touch like a branding iron wherever he roamed over her body.
“Ye’re the bonniest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, his voice hushed and almost reverent. One of his hands reached between them, snaking under her skirts to skim over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, the anticipation of the touch she desired so terribly making her tremble. “Let me pleasure ye. Let me show ye how good ye can feel.”
Freya already knew how good she could feel in James’ hands. Since the last time he had touched her, the memory of it had returned to her often, turning the blood in her veins into liquid fire. Now, she wanted it more than anything—to feel those plush lips against her most sensitive spot once more, to feel him push just past the entrance of her body with his tongue.
Silently, she nodded, arms wrapping around his neck to hold him close. It was all the permission James needed to press his fingers against her, sliding with ease into the moisture that had already gathered there. Upon feeling it, he gave her a satisfied grin, one that promised her more than words ever could.
“Have ye been thinking about this?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. But before Freya could protest it, he added, “Because I have. I’ve been thinking about ye and touching ye like this all the time. Ye have nae idea how much I’ve wanted tae dae this… tae touch ye, tae kiss ye and feel ye around me.”
Freya couldn’t help but moan at James’ admission. Her core throbbed with need under his fingers, pleasure exploding through her as James touched and teased her most sensitive spot. When one of those fingers moved lower, brushing over the seam of her folds before finally pushing inside her, Freya gasped in pleasure, her body spasming around him.
“Good?” James asked. “Tell me.”
Freya could only hum her agreement, hips rolling mindlessly as she chased her pleasure. Before long, James added a second finger, moving them inside her in a way that drove her mad with need. His palm pressing against her mound, he worked her relentlessly until she was almost sobbing with the need to find her release.
“Please,” Freya said. She wanted to reach that peak again, to fall apart around his fingers, but at the same time, she wanted more. She could feel him under her—his manhood, hardened and eager. She wanted him. She wanted to be claimed entirely by him. “Please, James… take me. I’m ready.”
The growl that escaped him reminded Freya of a predator pleased with its hunt. She didn’t need to ask him twice; in a swift movement, she found herself on her back on the soft grass, James settling between her legs.
“Me love,” he said, that one word filled with such adoration that Freya’s heart seized in her chest. He kissed her lips, then her neck. Then, he moved lower and lower, scattering kisses over her chest until he could draw the pebbled nub of her nipple in his mouth. The sudden heat made Freya arch her back off the ground, hips rolling against him in a desperate attempt to get some friction, only for her to feel the swell of his clothed manhood against her.
“Please, please, please…” she said, her words a mindless litany. She needed to feel him inside her, to have him fill every inch and truly make her his.
“Anything ye want… anything, if ye are certain ye want this,” said James as he reached between them once more and removed his length from the confines of his clothes. They were both too eager to waste any more time, and she nodded. They both desired the other too much to take a moment and undress, and Freya had felt no relief like the one that coursed through her when James finally pushed against her entrance.
She braced herself for she didn’t know what to expect, as her mother and the nuns had never spoken to her about such things—she doubted the latter even knew about them. The first breach took her breath away, a strange discomfort lingering for a few moments before melting into a mind-bending pleasure.
Freya had stopped breathing, her muscles tense as James paused for a moment to look down at her. “Shall I stop? Are ye alright?”
“Aye,” Freya was quick to assure him, tilting her hips just so, to urge him to move. “Dinnae stop.”
Slowly, torturously so, James moved until he was buried inside her to the hilt. It felt as though he was taking up every bit of space inside her, filling her to the brim. The sensation took her breath away, her body clenching on its own accord around him and drawing moan after moan from his lips.
“Ye feel like heaven,” he said as he leaned down to kiss her. “I could die inside ye.”
Wrapping her arms and her legs around James, Freya held onto him as he began to thrust inside her. Every drag of his manhood against her walls, every push of his pelvis against her mound, every kiss—it all served to drive her mad with lust. He was all she could see, all she could feel. He and their union were the only things in her mind, every other thought driven away by the pleasure he was giving her.
Each thrust of his hips brought Freya closer and closer to the edge. Heat radiated from her core all the way to her limbs, a tingling sensation running down her spine as James hit a particularly pleasurable spot inside her. She clenched around him, her walls, her arms, her legs, all trying to pull him even closer, even deeper.
“That’s it,” James told her when she moaned his name, her slick flesh now parted with ease around him. “That’s a good lass. Look how well ye’re taking me. Can ye feel how deep inside ye I am?”
Freya nodded frantically, nails digging into James’ back. She could feel him so deep, his manhood reaching where his fingers couldn’t. With every thrust, he pressed against a spot that made her quiver and throb around him, and before long, she was close to her peak.
When he reached between them to tease that sensitive spot over her seam, he only had to circle his fingers a few times for her to finally reach it her orgasm, crashing suddenly into her and making her moan and tremble in his arms. The world around her seemed to go white at the edges, the force of her orgasm sending all the blood rushing to her head. For a long while, she was only aware of her ragged breathing and James’ frantic thrusts as he, too, chased his completion. Soon, he finally spilled inside her with a broken sound tumbling past his lips as he buried himself as deep as he could.
Afterwards, they both lay there, panting. James’ body was draped over her, the weight of him just shy of turning suffocating, but also comforting. Still buried deep inside her, he kissed her deeply, stealing her breath away.
Freya caressed his back, her hands smoothing over the planes of his shoulders. She couldn’t help but laugh; it all seemed so unlikely, so unreal that she could hardly believe it.
“What is so funny, lass?” James asked.
“Naething,” she said. “Just… I never thought I would have this.”
“Neither did I,” James admitted. “But now that I dae, I’ll never let ye go.”