The Highlander’s Accidental Wife (Queen’s Edict #3)

Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

Her big, scary Highlander, with his wild hair and wild gaze, gave her a smile that was both tender and ravenous.

“Nor do I, me love,” Damien said.

He grabbed one of her legs, and she gasped as he set her ankle on his shoulder. Cool air teased her center, and she’d never felt more exposed—or ready.

“I shall try to go slow?—”

“No,” Helena said and arched up, breathing hard. “Take me as you have wanted to. We are always honest with each other, are we not, my love?”

That teasing dare caused a wild heat to flicker in Damien’s eye, and Helena told herself that she must remember it, when he surged forward. Her back arched, her elbows dug into the rock, and her eyes fluttered shut.

Oh, she knew how big he was, her husband-to-be. But feeling him inside her, that pinch and that fullness, it was almost too much.

“Helena,” Damien groaned. “Och, sweet, how good ye feel. I shall make love to ye every goddamn day. Ye have nay idea.”

She nodded, unable to speak, and her body seemed to clench around him, wringing another groan from him. Smiling, she opened her eyes and gazed up at him, seeing him gritting his jaw and coming undone.

Helena, with her hair all around her, with her back pressed into a woolen cloak on a hard rock, and with her ankle in the firm grip of a big hand, had never felt more like a dragonness.

Her body fluttered around him, and she knew that he was trying to hold back despite what she’d asked, trying to let her get used to his size.

So, she dug her foot in and rolled her hips. He swore in Gaelic, and the cords in his neck stood out as he gazed up at the sky.

“Ye minx,” he ground out. Then, he slowly slid out of her and plunged back in. “Ye will pay for that. Ye ken what ye are doin’ to me.”

“Aye,” Helena teased. “Oh.” Her eyes went wide as Damien rolled his hips and she felt a new burst of pleasure. “Oh. Oh. More, yes. ”

She heard her pleas, her screams of pleasure, all the while Damien laughed and pounded his glorious length into her.

“Ye said nay mercy.”

“Damien, I…”

The tight, powerful flame was burning inside her. The one that Damien alone seemed to know how to whip into a frenzy. But she did not know he could do it like this.

She’d thought she’d understood pleasure.

She had not. Not until she climaxed in Damien’s arms under the starry sky, with racing clouds and a full moon illuminating her bare skin.

Not until he said he loved her into her neck as he came, thrusting and sending shivers through her, and she came again.

And then her big, scary Highlander had the audacity to smirk at her, before flipping her over. Her feet hit the earth, and her wobbly knees were barely able to hold her up. This time, he removed the cloak, bent her over the rock, and took her from behind.

With her hair wrapped around his hand, he teased her into oblivion, and she lost count of how many times they made love.

She lost track of everything and barely recalled how they’d gone for another dip in the hot spring. Or how he carried her back to the hunting lodge, wrapped in her cloak.

She did recall the sun rising and Damien murmuring, “Happy wedding day.”

When Helena woke up again, the ruddy evening light was streaming into her room, and there was an open trunk that had not been there in the morning. Darting out of bed, throwing on a gown and a dressing gown, she ran into the living room.

A raised eyebrow and a satisfied smile that sent a delicious shiver down her back greeted her. Damien was also wearing different clothes—a plain shirt and trews—and his hair was tied back.

“We slept through the wedding?”

Damien, who was sitting by the fire, reading a book, grinned as he took a sip from a steaming teacup. His powerful throat worked as he swallowed, and Helena flushed as she saw a faint pink mark there. From her teeth.

“Aye,” he said in an easy tone as he set down the cup. “Me fault. We’ve postponed it for a week.”

Helena clapped a hand over her mouth and stared at her husband-to-be. He did not seem put out, but faintly amused, and took another sip from his cup. The way he was eyeing her, Helena knew that he was reliving something from last night, and the twitch of his eyebrow said as much.

“Worth it,” he muttered.

Helena’s hand fell to her side as she laughed.

“Are people vexed?” she asked as she fell onto the sofa and curled up next to him, her head on his chest. His strong arm wrapped around her, and she thrilled, snuggling closer. “Should we feign contrition?”

Damien huffed a laugh. “Nae at all. Everyone was worried about ye. And they dinnae mind.” His face fell. “We have folk to mourn, who we lost last night. And we must recover.”

“Oh,” Helena said and put a hand to her heart.

“Then, there will be more feastin’, more parties. Ye ken that Maither will be in her glory once we return.”

“I see,” Helena murmured and closed her eyes.

“Ye must be hungry,” Damien said a moment later, even as his arm tightened. “While I am enjoyin’ this, yesterday was a lot.”

“Hmm, another minute,” Helena said, and then her stomach growled. “Drat.”

Damien laughed and let her go, but as she stood up, he caught her hand and kissed it. “I love ye.”

Her heart nearly burst out of her chest and into the sky. “Not as much as I love you.”

He nipped her knuckles, then said, “Cheeky thing. ‘Tis nae a competition.”

“You saved my life.”

“Ye saved mine, too.” Damien squeezed her hand and gazed into her twinkling eyes. “In every way. So, I assure ye, ye have nay idea how much I love ye.”

“I think I have an idea,” Helena said as he let her go, and she smoothed her hands down her sides. His good eye flashed with heat. “Later.”

“Tease,” Damien muttered as he went back to his book.

After Helena had supped and was feeling much more alert, she had the nagging feeling that she was forgetting something. When she said as much to Damien, he bit his lower lip to suppress a diabolical grin.

“What?” Helena asked. “What did I forget?”

“I want to assure ye that we already have people lookin’,” Damien said slowly, and her mind flashed to every possible thing she could think of. “And yer faither’s connections to the Navy worked out, after all.”

Helena sucked in a breath and nearly dropped her mug. “Bartholomew.”

“Aye, the great dobber either went below deck or hid, and he is now on the high seas with a bunch of hungry pirates.” Damien grinned to himself. “Such a shame he’ll miss the wedding, eh?”

For a moment, Helena felt for her stepbrother, but she could not help but feel amused that his actions finally had landed him in consequences he could not easily wriggle out of.

“Oh, yes, how shall we carry on?” she snorted.

“Yer faither means to leave tomorrow if ye are alright with it.”

Helena stared at Damien, who gave her a far too innocent look, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Well, he tried to leave today, but we convinced him to wait and see what ye wanted.”

“Is he takin’ Sophia?”

Damien snorted. “Christ, nay.”

“Let him go,” she said. “He also brought this calamity upon Barthy and himself. Let him deal with it and the Fanwrights. And I shall be happier without his shadow here.”

“Are ye sure?” Damien asked quietly, setting aside his book and leaning forward.

“Yes,” Helena said. He shook his head but said nothing, and she smiled. “You can speak your mind, my soon-to-be-husband.”

“Och, it’s just that I wish the bastard could appreciate ye—and Sophia, for that matter,” Damien said. “It isnae right.”

Helena gave him a soft smile. “Thank you. I think it’s a testament to your upbringing that you feel so strongly about that.”

Damien bobbed his head and smiled at her, then stared off into the distance. He only stirred when she sat across from him and nudged him with her foot. Reaching out, he caught her ankle and squeezed it, then held it. She shivered as his thumb stroked the inside of her ankle, as he had last night when he’d teased her?—

“I ken that look,” he said. “I was goin’ to suggest that we return to Morighe tonight, but it can wait till morning.”

“I agree,” Helena said.

“Why did ye change yer mind?” Damien asked and let her go. She drew back and sat up straighter. “And how are ye… today?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in ages,” Helena said frankly, and Damien threw his head back, laughing. “I feel… at peace.” She put a hand on her heart. “For so long, I felt so frantic inside, so rushed, trying to squeeze my dream into every hour.” She looked at the fire and thought of the dark, choppy ocean around the Revenge . “Chasing a ghost.”

Damien said nothing, and the silence stretched, but it was comfortable. When she looked back, he was waiting patiently, and her heart swelled even more.

“I was struggling to keep my mother’s dream alive—I think to try and keep her alive. And your dratted cousin, of all people, made me realize that.”

“Glad the bastard was useful for something,” Damien said. “That and shark bait.”

Helena shivered, remembering the fight and how she could have lost Damien.

“My mother would be happy if I was happy, I think. Free to make my own decisions as she never was. No matter what, I know that with you, our marriage, our children, our life… none of that will stop me from chasing my dreams.” She beamed at Damien, whose eye was soft as a spring sky. “It’s become part of my dreams. For all that I was trying to give myself time and space, I was shrinking myself…”

“I mean, I’ve always said so,” Damien teased. “I think ye shall translate a great many texts, me love, and be one of the greatest ladies and scholars that Morighe has ever kenned.” He smiled. “Ye were always goin’ to make yer own destiny, me love. Any fool can see that.”

“Who knows?” Helena said in a shaky voice, both loving and hating how Damien could read her so easily and could always say the right thing, even if he was so bloody infuriating at times. “Maybe our heir will be a little translator.”

Damien stood up and came over, leaning down to look into her face. “Oh, Hel. Of that, I have nay doubt.”

Then, he seized her around the waist, and she shrieked with laughter as he carried her back to the bedroom.