Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
A fter everything Freya had been through that evening, the only thing that seemed to calm her was knowing that James was right there with her. She craved the safety of his arms, the reassurance of his presence. She craved his warmth, the tenderness of his touch.
She didn’t want to rest; she only wanted to feel him even closer and forget about everything that had happened that night, if only for a short while. She wanted to lose herself in pleasure, to erase everything else.
Even as she assured James she was fine, though, and even as he kissed her and began to tug at her dress, he was being far too gentle, as if he feared his mere touch would break her. Impatiently, Freya reached for the laces that held her dress together and pulled at them, blindly trying to loosen them and remove her garments as fast as possible. At her efforts, James chuckled against her lips, his hand finding hers to stop her.
“Easy, lass,” he said. “Just… relax. Let me take care of ye.”
With a sigh, Freya let James roll her onto her stomach on the bed, trying her best to relax under the kisses he pressed on the crook of her neck. With deft fingers, he began to undo her dress little by little, until he could finally pull it open, his hands massaging up the length of her back and moving under her body to cradle her breasts. Freya couldn’t help but melt into the touch, especially when a gentle rock of James’ hips against her still-clothed rear had her dress moving, exposing the swell of her breasts, James’ fingers brushing against her hardened nipples.
Her core throbbed with need. Every touch was like a flame against her skin, every breath James took melodic in her ears. For a moment, she felt James retreat, but when she glanced at him over her shoulder, he only removed his shirt before descending upon her once more, kissing her exposed back.
“Can ye feel what ye do to me?” he asked her in a low, honeyed voice, and Freya could, indeed. She could feel his hardened manhood against her buttocks as James rocked slowly into her, and she could only wish there were no garments between them. “The mere sight of ye is enough to drive me mad.”
When James slid his hand up her arm, covering her to lace their fingers together, Freya held onto him tightly, hips arching against him to draw a moan out of his lips. Desire pooled deep in her core like liquid fire, her breath coming in short puffs as James’ other hand slid down her spine, fingers tracing the bumps and divots of it until he reached her buttocks through the opening of her dress, and then between her legs, where she needed him the most. His fingers circled her entrance, gathering the moisture that had already soaked her folds and bringing it up her seam to circle that sensitive spot on her mound.
That first touch sent a sharp sensation of pleasure through Freya, like it always did. Nothing could compare to the touch of James’ hands, to the brush of his lips or the feel of his solid heat against her. Anything else paled in comparison—those few times she had touched herself in the past, seeking some relief, had been rushed and meant only to serve a need. Never before had she taken her time like James liked to do, driving her mad with lust until she could hardly bear the anticipation.
Soon, he dragged those clever fingers towards her opening once more, swiftly plunging two of them inside her. Just like that, all the air was pushed out of her lungs, her breath cut short and all thoughts dissolving from her mind. There was nothing but the slow, tender drag of James’ fingers against her walls, which clenched tightly around him with every thrust.
With every movement of his hand, Freya could feel her opening getting slicker, the muscles relaxing under his ministrations. Rocking her hips back, she took him deeper and deeper, seeking that mind-bending sensation that came with him brushing against that particularly sensitive spot inside her. Once he found it, pressing down hard against it, Freya keened and bucked under him, unable to control herself. She wanted him deeper, wanted to feel him fill her up entirely and make her forget everything that had happened to her that night.
She wanted some reassurance that, no matter what, he would be by her side.
“Please,” she whispered as she pushed herself up to her elbows, her breasts spilling out of her dress entirely, the swell of them swaying as she rocked back onto his hand. His other hand, still wrapped tightly around her own, gave her fingers a gentle squeeze before letting go to paw at her dress until Freya was entirely nude, trembling with need over James’ covers.
The moment he had discarded her dress, he returned to her body, pulling her hips up to drag his tongue over her folds. Freya’s knees almost buckled underneath her, the pleasure so intense that it was almost overwhelming. When he spread her with his thumbs and tongue, letting it delve inside her, she keened and spasmed around him. The mere position itself was enough to make her cheeks burn with embarrassment, but the pleasure was so strong, her desire for him so unbridled that she couldn’t bring herself to complain—not when it felt so good.
James’ hands were like a vice on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh. Freya’s own fingers curled around the edge of his pillow, holding on for dear life as he feasted on her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. When his tongue found that sensitive spot and began to circle it, Freya’s eyes fell shut, pleasure exploding through her body and fireworks behind her eyelids.
“Please… please, dinnae stop,” she said, and she couldn’t stop herself from rocking back into him once more, searching more and more stimulation. Behind her, James moaned as though pleasuring her gave him plenty of pleasure, too, and when Freya glanced at him over her shoulder, she found him palming himself with a hand as he tried to get some relief.
The groan that he let out against her folds at her pleas reverberated all through Freya, the sensation traveling all over her mound and making her shiver. All it took was a few more tender swipes of his tongue over her folds for her to reach her climax, shaking and writhing under his mouth and lips, calling out his name in a moan.
Afterwards, she collapsed onto the bed—or at least her arms did, her chest colliding with the mattress. Her hips remained up, James holding her like that, now devouring her with his gaze as she twitched helplessly around nothing.
“Even here, ye’re so bonnie,” he said as he traced a finger over the seam of her folds. “I want ye so bad, Freya. I want naething more than tae be inside ye.”
Freya could only answer with a soft moan, tilting her hips back in silent invitation. James wasted no time before he shed the rest of his clothes, and once again, Freya glanced over her shoulder to watch him as he gathered some of her wetness to slick his manhood, giving himself a few firm strokes.
“Spread yer legs,” he said, gently urging her thighs apart with his free hand. “Go on… spread them.”
Freya did as she was asked, letting her knees fall wider, her hips tilting upwards. She couldn’t help but feel vulnerable like this, exposed, but the slow, almost awed breath James took as he gazed at her was enough to overshadow any doubt she had.
There was no part of herself she had to hide from him. They loved each other; she wanted to share every part of herself with him.
As James took himself in his hand and lined himself up with her entrance, Freya’s toes curled in anticipation. When he finally breached her, slowly pushing inside her until he was buried all the way to the hilt, Freya’s heart skipped beat after beat, her breath coming out in short gasps. Instantly, she felt full, James’ manhood stretching her in the most pleasurable way. And when he began to rock his hips, grunting with every thrust that pushed him deeper inside her, she couldn’t help but melt into the sheets, letting him bring them both the pleasure they so desperately craved.
Just as she was reaching her peak again, her moans turning high-pitched and needy, James stopped, much to her surprise. Instead of continuing his thrusts, he only let his hands roam over her body, caressing her hips, her back, then around her torso to cup her breasts and tease her nipples.
“I cannae get enough of ye,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. “Show me how much ye want it. Take what ye want from me.”
With a soft moan, Freya pushed herself to her hands and began to rock back slowly into James, sinking back onto his manhood. Every movement of her hips drew another groan out of him and Freya could tell that he was enjoying watching her from the way he twitched and throbbed inside her.
“That’s it,” he praised her, pulling his hands back to trace the place where they were joined with a finger. “That’s a good lass.”
Freya preened under the praise, flushing a bright pink as she rolled her hips again and again, chasing her orgasm. After all that teasing from James’ part, it was easy for her to reach that peak and after a few more thrusts, that familiar pressure began to build in her belly once more until it finally exploded, her orgasm crashing over her all at once.
Her core pulsed with pleasure, moans tumbling past her lips as she clenched rhythmically around James. In turn, he grabbed her hips and worked her through it, plunging himself deep inside her again and again until he, too, reached his climax, spilling inside her with a groan.
Ever so slowly, he pulled away from her and settled next to her on the bed, immediately gathering her in his arms. Freya settled against him with a soft, satisfied hum, curling into his warmth, into the solid muscles of his chest.
Though her fears had not completely subsided, she trusted James to protect her, to take care of her. He would get to the bottom of all this. He would make sure she was safe.
“I love ye,” he whispered against the crown of her head, caressing her hair gently. “And I’ll make sure I make me parents understand why ye’re so important tae me. They’ll come around… I ken they will. I will help them see that our happiness is more important than this alliance.”
Freya didn’t know if that was true, though she didn’t point that out. James’ happiness was important to her, of course, but she also knew much of it hinged on his clan’s prosperity. He was not someone who had the luxury of putting himself first. He had so many other people to think about—so many duties, so many responsibilities he could not ignore. Freya couldn’t ask him to forget about all that.
If it came down to her versus his duty to his clan, she didn’t know what he would pick. She didn’t know what she would want him to pick, either.
But she was too afraid to voice those words. She feared that she would inadvertently speak them into existence, that she would make them come true just by speaking them out loud.
Instead, she burrowed even deeper in the covers, even deeper in the hollow of his arms and let him hold her. It wasn’t long before he was asleep, but sleep evaded her entirely. All she could do was lie there, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of his heart and his breathing, repeating to herself the same phrase over and over like a prayer.
Everything will be alright.