Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Put me down.”
“What?” He looked down at her, confused.
“I said put me down. Now.”
He set her on her feet immediately though his hands lingered at her waist as if afraid she might bolt. “Iris.”
“Nay. Ye daenae get to just sweep in here, make pretty declarations, and expect everythin’ to be fine.” She stepped back, putting distance between them even though her body protested. “Ye hurt me, Elijah. Badly.”
“I ken. I apologize.”
“Aye, ye are apologizin’ now.” She crossed her arms. “But that doesnae mean ye can just pick me up and carry me off like I’m some prize ye’ve won. I’m nae a sack of grain.”
“I never said ye were.”
“Ye treated me like I was. In yer solar, when ye dismissed me feelings and told me I was convenient.” Her voice cracked slightly. “Ye have nay right to treat me this way, Elijah. Nae after bein’ so dismissive of me earlier. Nae after makin’ me feel like I meant nothin’ to ye.”
He flinched as if she’d struck him. “Ye’re right. I wasnae thinkin’.”
“That’s the problem. Ye never think before ye speak when ye’re frightened.
Ye just lash out and hurt people.” She forced herself to stay firm even though seeing the pain in his eyes made her want to comfort him.
“I forgive ye, Elijah. I do. But that doesnae mean I’m going to just pretend it never happened. ”
“I daenae expect ye to.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him.
“Iris, I was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot. I was so terrified of losin’ ye that I pushed ye away first. And I ken that makes nae sense, I ken it was the worst possible thing I could have done, but I was afraid. ”
“Of what? Of me leavin’?”
“Of ye realizin’ ye’d made a mistake. That ye deserved better than a broken man who doesnae ken how to show love properly.
” His voice dropped to something raw and honest. “When Lydia arrived, all I could think was that ye’d finally see the truth.
That ye’d realize yer sister would have been the better choice. That ye’d leave me.”
The admission made her chest ache. “I was never goin’ to leave ye.”
“I ken that now. I should have kent it all along, but fear made me stupid.” He took a tentative step toward her. “I will do anythin’ to get ye to come back with me, Iris. Anythin’ ye ask. I’ll grovel, I’ll beg, I’ll spend the rest of me life makin’ up for what I said. Just... please, come home.”
“I was always plannin’ to come home.” The admission made his eyes widen. “I dinnae come here to stay permanently, Elijah. I came to make sure Lydia got back safely. I was going to leave this afternoon regardless.”
“Ye... what?” He stared at her. “Ye were comin’ back?”
“Eventually. After I’d had some time to think. To figure out what I wanted.” She moved closer to him. “But that doesnae mean I’m lettin’ ye off easy. Ye hurt me, and there have to be consequences.”
“Anythin’. Name it.”
“Ye’ll obey me every whim for a month.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Ye heard me. For one full month, ye’ll do whatever I ask without complaint or argument.
” She tilted her head, studying his face.
“If I want breakfast in bed, ye’ll bring it.
If I want to redecorate the solar, ye’ll allow it.
If I want ye to spend an entire afternoon playin’ with Codie, ye’ll do it.
Nay arguments, nay excuses, nay typical Elijah stubbornness. ”
“That’s... that’s yer condition?”
“Aye. That’s me condition.” She stepped close enough to feel his warmth.
“Because ye need to learn that bein’ married means compromise.
Means listenin’ to me, considerin’ me wishes, treatin’ me as a partner instead of an obligation.
And if it takes a month of ye bendin’ to me will to teach ye that lesson, then so be it. ”
For a moment, he just stared at her. Then, slowly, a smile curved his mouth. “Done.”
“Just like that? Ye agree?”
“Just like that.” He reached out, pulling her close. “If it takes a month of bein’ yer servant to prove I can be better, I’ll do it gladly. If it takes a year, I’ll do that too. Whatever ye need, Iris. I’m yers.”
The words, combined with the fierce intensity in his eyes, made her knees weak. “Ye really mean that.”
“Every word.” His hand came up to cup her cheek. “I love ye. And I’m done pretendin’ I daenae. Done pushin’ ye away when ye get too close. Done bein’ a coward.”
“I love ye too.” The admission felt right, true. “Even when ye’re bein’ an impossible arse. Even when ye say terrible things because ye’re frightened. I love ye, Elijah Craig.”
His mouth came down on hers, and this time she didn’t pull away. She kissed him back with everything she had. All the hurt, all the love, all the relief of knowing they’d get through this together.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers.
“Take me home,” she whispered. “Take me home to our son.”
“Our son.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Aye. Let’s go home.”
They’d been riding for perhaps an hour, Iris seated before Elijah on Thunder while Mairie followed behind in the carriage, when he suddenly veered off the main road toward a small village.
“Where are ye going?” Iris asked, confused. “The castle’s that way.”
“I ken.” His voice was rough, strained. “But we need to stop.”
“Why? Is somethin’ wrong with the horse?”
“Nay. I just... I cannae wait any longer.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he was dismounting and lifting her down, practically dragging her toward the village’s small inn. Mairie called something after them.
"Get yerself some food and ale in the common room," Elijah called back to her without breaking stride. "We'll be down shortly."
Then his focus was entirely on getting Iris inside.
“Elijah, what is going on?”
“A room,” he told the startled innkeeper. “Yer best room. Now.”
The innkeeper took one look at Elijah’s face and quickly produced a key. “Top of the stairs, last door on the right, me laird.”
Elijah tossed coins on the counter then guided Iris up the stairs with a hand on her lower back. The urgency in his movements and the tension in his shoulders were making her heart race.
“Elijah, what’s going on?” she asked as he unlocked the door and pulled her inside. “Why did we stop?”
He closed the door behind them, leaning against it as he stared at her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
“Because I cannae hold back anymore. Because I’ve spent the past three days terrified I’d lost ye forever, and now that I have ye back, I need.
..” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I need ye, Iris. Right now.”
The raw honesty in his voice made heat flood through her. “Here? Now? We’re mere hours from home.”
“I daenae care.” He pushed off from the door, stalking toward her with predatory grace. “I cannae wait hours. I cannae sit on that horse with ye in me arms, feelin’ yer warmth, smellin’ yer scent, and nae touch ye properly. I’ll go mad.”
“Elijah.”
“Tell me nay.” He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Tell me ye daenae want this, and I’ll walk out that door right now. We’ll get back on the horse and ride home like nothin’ happened. But if ye want this even half as much as I do...”
She reached up, pulling his mouth down to hers in answer.
The kiss was fierce, hungry, his tongue demanding entry as it tangled with hers.
She gasped, her hands instinctively clutching at his broad shoulders, the rough wool of his kilt jacket scratching her palms. His body pressed against hers, hard and insistent, his erection a firm presence against her thigh.
“Elijah,” she murmured against his lips, breathless, but he silenced her with another kiss, his hands roaming down her body with a purpose that left no doubt of his intentions.
Her breath hitched as his calloused fingers traced the curve of her thigh, lifting her skirts with deliberate slowness.
She felt the cool air on her legs, and then his fingers hooked into her stockings, tearing them down her legs with a rough tug that made her gasp.
His hands were everywhere—tangling in her hair, spanning her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. She matched his desperation, her fingers working at the laces of his shirt, needing to feel his skin against hers.
“God, I’ve missed ye,” he groaned against her mouth, his hands already working at the fastenings of her dress. “Missed this. Missed ye in me arms, in me bed.”
“It’s only been a few days,” she managed though her voice was breathless.
“Felt like a lifetime.” He finally got her dress loosened enough to push it off her shoulders, his mouth immediately following the path of fabric. “Never again. Never pushin’ ye away again.”
“Ye are right, ye willnae,” she gasped as his teeth grazed her collarbone. “Because if ye do, I’ll—oh God—I’ll actually use those knives on ye.”
“Worth the risk.” His hands found the hem of her chemise, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion. “Christ, ye’re beautiful.”
The reverence in his voice made her shiver. This was desperate, intense, as if they were both trying to prove something. That they belonged together. That what they had was worth fighting for.
Her own hands weren’t idle, finally getting his shirt off and running her palms over the broad expanse of his chest. She traced old scars, felt the hammer of his heart beneath her fingertips, marveled at the strength coiled in every muscle.
She moaned softly as his hands cupped her, lifting her against him, his manhood throbbing insistently against her core.
“Bed,” she managed. “Now.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. In one smooth motion, he lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her the few steps to the bed. They fell onto it together, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses.
“Ye’re mine, Iris,” he said, his voice thick with possession. “All of ye.” His words sent a thrill through her, a mix of fear and excitement that coiled low in her belly.
His mouth traveled down her throat, across her collarbone, finding her breast his mouth closed over a nipple, sucking and teasing and making her arch off the bed with a cry.
Every touch felt heightened, more intense, as if the fear of losing each other had sharpened their awareness of every sensation.
“Elijah, please.”
He smirked, his eyes dark with intent, as he unbuckled his belt, his kilt pooling around his hips.
His manhood sprang free, thick and veins pulsing, and she swallowed hard, her mouth watering at the sight.
It was a sight both intimidating and exhilarating, a promise of pleasure that made her heart race.
She reached out, her fingers wrapping around his shaft, stroking him slowly, savoring the feel of him, the heat of his skin, the way he shuddered at her touch.
His sharp intake of breath was her reward, and she smiled, a small, teasing smile that made his eyes flash with something akin to desperation.
He pushed her hand away with gentleness and positioned himself between her thighs, his fingers tracing the wetness between her legs, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through her.
“Ye’re so wet for me, lass,” he murmured, his thumb circling her sensitive folds, sending waves of sensation crashing over her. She gasped, her hips bucking against his hand, but he held her firm, teasing her mercilessly.
He thrust home in one smooth stroke, and they both cried out at the sensation. He gave her a moment to adjust, his forehead pressed against hers, both of them breathing hard.
He began to move, slow and deliberate at first then faster, harder, his hips snapping against hers, the bed creaking beneath them. The rhythm was urgent, and she felt herself being swept away, her body responding to his with a desperation that matched his own.
“Iris,” he groaned, his voice raw, his breath coming in ragged gasps. ”Ye feel so good.”
His hands gripped her hips, bruising, as he pounded into her relentlessly, the sound of their bodies meeting, the creak of the bed, and the crackle of the fire creating a symphony of passion.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body tightening around him, the pleasure building to an unbearable edge. “Elijah…”
“Cum for me, lass,” he demanded, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a rough whisper that sent shivers down her spine. “Let me feel ye more.” His words were her undoing, pushing her over the edge, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave, her body convulsing, her cries echoing in the small room.
He followed, his thrusts stuttering. His seed spilled deep inside her and his hoarse shout filled the air.
For a moment, they lay there, breathless, their bodies still joined, the fire crackling in the background.
His weight was heavy but comforting, his heart pounding against hers, a rhythm that matched her own.
They clung to each other as the aftershocks faded, both trembling, both struggling to catch their breath.
Finally, he rolled to the side, pulling her with him, so she was draped across his chest. His hand stroked lazily up and down her back, soothing, gentle.
“We should probably get back on the road,” she murmured after a while though she made no move to leave the warmth of his arms.
“Eventually.” His arm tightened around her. “But right now, I just want to hold ye. To convince meself this is real. That ye’re really here, really mine.”
“I’m here.” She pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “I’m nae going anywhere.”
They lay in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying being together, being at peace.