Chapter 19
Gracie watched the final cards fall on the table, her breath caught tight in her chest as she saw at once she had lost. The room seemed suddenly too warm, the candlelight too bright, and she felt every inch of Jaxon’s gaze upon her as if it were a tangible thing.
Her fingers trembled as she rose, cheeks aflame, knowing there was naught left to shield her but her courage.
She told herself she would not flinch, even as her heart hammered like a drum.
She slipped the chemise from her shoulders with deliberate care, the linen whispering as it fell.
Cool air kissed her skin, and she folded her arms briefly over her breasts before forcing herself to let them drop.
She stood bare before him, flushed and mortified, yet strangely proud that she had not turned away.
Her eyes lifted to his, daring him to look and daring herself to be seen.
Jaxon went utterly still, his chair scraping softly as he stood. A low sound left him, rough and unguarded, and he said her name as if it were a prayer pulled from his chest.
“Gracie. Ye’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words thick with something fierce and reverent all at once.
Gracie felt the weight of them settle deep within her, steadying her shaking limbs.
He crossed the space between them in two strides, stopping just short as though giving her the chance to retreat.
She did not move, though her breath came fast and shallow, her skin alive with awareness.
His hand lifted, hovering near her waist, asking without words.
When she nodded, barely, his fingers rested there, warm and certain.
The touch sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the chill. She felt as though every place he touched woke from a long sleep, her body answering him before her mind could catch up.
“Jaxon,” she whispered, unsure whether it was a plea or a warning. He bent his head, resting his brow against hers, breathing her in.
“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he said softly, though there was strain beneath the gentleness.
She swallowed and shook her head, the movement small but resolute. His hands slid to her back, firm and protective, as though he meant to anchor her there. The closeness stole her breath more than any boldness could have.
When he kissed her, it was slow and unhurried, a claiming tempered by care.
Gracie melted into him, her hands clutching at him as if he were the only solid thing left in the world.
The kiss deepened, not in haste but in promise, and she felt her knees weaken beneath her.
He murmured her name again, voice rough with feeling.
She became acutely aware of the breadth of his chest, the strength held in his arms, and the way he kept her close without overwhelming her.
Each brush of his thumb along her side sent sparks racing through her veins.
Her body felt suddenly her own in a way it never had before, not something to hide or apologize for.
She pressed closer, emboldened by the warmth of his approval.
“Ye ken I’ve wanted ye,” he said quietly, lips brushing her temple.
The confession made her chest ache, sharp and sweet all at once. She answered by placing her hand over his heart, feeling the steady, powerful beat beneath her palm.
“I want ye too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a breath.
Jaxon’s hands traced her back with a tenderness that made her eyes sting. She felt cherished, not merely desired, and it undid her.
He drew her toward the bed without haste, every step a quiet agreement between them. Gracie followed willingly, her earlier embarrassment replaced by a deep, humming anticipation. She trusted him in that moment with a certainty that surprised her. Whatever followed would be theirs alone.
Jaxon bade her, “Stretch out upon the bed and rest easy,” his voice low and coaxing as he knelt at her feet.
Gracie hesitated only a breath before she agreed, the long day settling heavy in her bones. He took her hand, cradling it as though it was something precious.
“Trust me, lass,” he said, as he climbed on top of her.
Jaxon looked down up her with a softened gaze and spoke as though the thought had been weighing on him.
“I wish to kiss every inch of ye, slow and unhurried, so ye might ken how dearly ye are wanted.”
Gracie’s breath caught at the tenderness in his voice, and she nodded, trusting him with a shy smile.
“Aye,” she whispered, “I’d like that.”
He began with her mouth, not rushing, his kiss lingering as though he were memorizing her.
His lips traced a gentle path along her jaw and to her throat, each kiss leaving warmth in its wake.
Gracie felt herself sigh beneath him, her hands curling in the linen as sensation bloomed wherever he touched her.
“Ye feel very good,” she murmured, surprising herself with the truth of it.
His kisses continued, reverent and patient, along her shoulders and arms, down to her hands where he pressed his lips to her palms. The simple intimacy of it made her chest ache, as though something long-starved inside her had finally been fed.
She felt seen in a way she never had before, cherished rather than judged.
“Daenae stop,” she breathed, her voice thick with feeling.
As he moved lower, she melted into the mattress, her body relaxing completely under the steady assurance of his presence.
The bed creaked softly as he shifted, his weight warm and grounding, and she welcomed it without hesitation.
Gracie closed her eyes, letting herself be held there in the moment, unguarded and unafraid.
She realized she had never known how much she craved this closeness, this sense of belonging beneath him.
In the quiet between kisses, her thoughts drifted, and she reflected on how easily he made her feel safe.
The solid press of him above her was not a burden but a comfort, a promise that she was not alone.
She had spent so long bracing herself against the world that surrender felt almost sinful in its pleasure.
“I like ye there,” she admitted softly, “I like feelin’ ye so close.”
He lifted his head then, meeting her eyes, his expression open and earnest.
“I’ll nae harm ye, Gracie,” he said, his thumb brushing her rigid rosebud on her breasts. “I only want ye to feel how much I want ye.”
Her answer was to draw him back down, her lips finding his with new confidence.
Their kisses deepened, still gentle but filled now with longing that made her heart race. She tasted his smile when she whispered his name, and he answered with a low murmur that sent a thrill through her. Words passed between them in broken fragments, promises and reassurances woven together.
He gently grabbed her hand and guided it below his kilt. She gasped as she wrapped her hand around his hard member.
“Aye,” he said against her lips, “just like this, lass.” He moved her hand up and down.
He groaned deep and lustful as he stilled, holding himself above her.
Gracie felt excited. She lay there breathing him in, her hand resting at his shoulder as though to anchor him.
The world beyond the bedchamber felt distant and unimportant.
In that space, wrapped in his warmth and gaze, she knew she wanted this night to linger, to stretch on without end.
He stopped her fondling him and took off his kilt. Now he was as naked as she was. Her eyes roamed over him, taking in the sight of a strong man. His abs were hard. Thick muscular thighs led to his long thick staff.
Gracie bit her lower lip, feeling the wetness gather between her thighs.
She watched as he lowered his hand between her legs and cupped her sacred place. She gasped.
“Trust, remember?” he reminded her.
She nodded, yes.
His thumbs pressed warm circles on her button, slow and knowing, and a sigh slipped from her before she could stop it. The tension there seemed to melt beneath his touch, as if he were untying knots she had carried for years.
She felt the steady strength of his hand and the care with which he worked, never rushing, never taking more than she gave.
“Och,” she murmured, eyes drifting closed, “this feels so good.”
He smirked and shifted his thumb higher with unhurried confidence. The movement sent a ripple of sensation through her, not sharp but deep and soothing.
Her shoulders eased, her breathing slowed, and the world narrowed to the warmth of his fingertips.
“Ye’ve walked hard roads,” he said, almost to himself, “and I’ll nae have ye aching tonight, only pleasure and release.”
As he worked, Gracie felt herself drift into a gentle haze, the kind that made her feel both light and heavy at once.
Each careful stroke grounded her more firmly in the moment, in the quiet between them.
She opened her eyes to watch him, the furrow of his brow and the focus in his gaze stirring something tender in her chest. She had not known such simple care could feel so intimate.
Then a pulsing sensation throbbed low in her belly. She had never felt anything like it before.
“Oh, Jaxon, something is happening,” her chest heaved up and down.
“Aye, let it happen, lass,” he said.
In that moment Gracie felt a jolt move through her. Her whole body shuddered with an explosion of delicious release.
“Oh, oh… I…” she moaned but her sentence was not complete.
When he finally eased his hands away, she protested with a soft sound before she could stop herself.
He smiled and brushed his knuckles along her knee, a lingering reassurance.
“There now I’d say ye’re near floating.”
She laughed softly, blissful and loose-limbed, and reached for him without thinking.
“Ye cannae be the only one to give,” she said, sitting up. “Lie down, Jaxon, and let me return the kindness, but ye must show me.”
He hesitated, surprised, then relented with a grin that spoke of shared mischief.
“If ye insist, me lady,” he replied, settling onto the bed.
She began placing soft kisses down his arms, her hands sliding along the firm lines there with a careful curiosity. His skin was warm beneath her palms, and she felt the strength held just beneath the surface. He drew a slow breath, the sound a quiet confession of how much he felt it.
“That’s it,” he murmured, “daenae be shy.”
Encouraged, she placed soft kisses and sliding her tongue along his forearms and up to his shoulders, marveling at the breadth of him. Each place she touched seemed to draw him closer, his body easing under her hands. She felt powerful in a way she had not before, able to soothe and steady him.
“Ye carry more than ye let on,” she said softly.
He answered with a low laugh, tinged with heat. “And ye see more than most,” he said, turning his head to meet her gaze. The look they shared made her breath hitch, a spark passing between them.
Her hands lingered, lower now, toward his belly. She moved lower and lower.
“Gracie,” he said, her name a careful warning and an invitation all at once.
She shifted lower and wrapped her hand around his hard member. He groaned softly, the sound sending a thrill through her.
“Just like before?” she asked.
“Aye,” he said as he placed his hand over hers and moved it up and down his shaft.
Candlelight traced the lines of him as she moved, and she felt his trust in every unguarded breath.
“Ye’ve magic in yer hands,” he said, voice rough.
“Only for ye,” she replied, emboldened by the way he stilled beneath her.
A few moments later, his hand reached back to clasp hers, stopping her.
“I will nae be able to hold on much longer if ye continue.”
With those words he grabbed her and placed her on the bed. He climbed on top of her.
Gracie sucked in a sharp breath with wide eyes. He placed the tip of his shaft against her opening.
“Are ye sure ye want this?” he asked.
“Aye, I am sure,” she said.
With her permission, he pushed inside of her. Gracie arched her back off the mattress as she felt him slide into her, the pressure giving way to pleasure.
“Oh, that feels wonderful,” she whispered.
“Aye, ye feel so good,” he said.
She pulled him closer. He covered her mouth with his as he reached the depths of her.
Gracie felt him inside of her, warm and throbbing. She never knew it could feel this good. Jaxon’s arms flexed as he held himself above her and moved back and forth, gently. She felt him slide in and out of her.
To her surprise she opened her thighs wider, embracing the moment. She saw Jaxon smirk in acknowledgement.
He moved faster now, pulsing his hips back and forth.
“Oh Jaxon. Oh that feels so good, please daenae stop,” Gracie moaned as she clung onto him.
“When ye speak like that, ye drive me mad, lass,” he groaned.
For what seemed like a long while, Gracie was lost in a haze of bliss as their bodies moved together. She was no longer the shy woman, but a wife. Her hands slid up and down his body, wanting to feel every inch of him as he conquered her.
She gasped when he held one hand on her breast, squeezing and kissing it. The pleasures were too much to handle and she felt the throbbing sensation rise again between thighs. This time she didn’t question it. She released with a loud echoing moan.
Jaxon followed her lead and she felt him spill his seed inside of her.
The room seemed to pulse with quiet energy, not rushed but deeply felt.
When she finally slowed, they remained as they were, neither eager to break the spell.
Jaxon turned onto his side and drew her close, his arm secure around her waist.
“That was worth the wait,” he said softly, affection warming his tone.
She rested her head against his chest, content and smiling, knowing the night still held more promises yet to be spoken.