Epilogue #2
“Perhaps,” Margaret said, her breath hitching as he kissed even lower, “there are some situations where I don’t mind that you’re a beast.”
“Best be careful what ye say,” he warned, continuing to kiss her neck as he reached behind her back to unlace her dress.
“Ryan!” she gasped, looking around the clearing. “What if someone sees?”
“Nay one’s goin’ to come over here,” he said as he started to slip the gown from her shoulders. “But if ye daenae want to be seen, I can arrange that.”
“What do you—” she began before he aborted removing her clothing and lifted her.
“Perhaps ye’d feel better if we were beneath a tree,” he said as he walked her to the edge of the forest. Softly, he set her down, letting his fingers brush her cheek once she was firmly on the grass.
“Now, I’m going to get rid of yer gown, lay me kilt on the ground, and then we’re going to celebrate that bairn ye’re growin’. Aye?”
“Yes,” she said, with an undeniable pressure coiling in her belly.
With steady hands, Ryan finally slipped her gown off and dropped it to the ground. Then, he moved on to her corset and stays. When he was finished, she stood before him in nothing more than her chemise.
“Ye truly are the bonniest lass I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said before unfastening his kilt and laying it on the ground.
Margaret knew that she was supposed to settle onto it, but she couldn’t look away from his hard length. Her thighs clenched together, trying to find some relief for the sensations at her core. She knew he’d satisfy her needs though.
If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t know how good being intimate with someone could feel. I suppose Cali was right when she said that Highlanders keep their women happy.
“Ye’re starin’,” he said with a chuckle, slowly guiding her onto the material.
“I…” she began, her face burning with embarrassment at being caught.
“Nay need to be embarrassed,” he said, tossing his doublet onto the pile with her garments. “Ye can look all ye want. Ye ken I quite like lookin’ at ye.”
With that, he shimmied her out of her chemise, baring her body to the air around them. His strong hands caressed her curves, his fingertips ghosting over her breasts. Gooseflesh erupted over every inch of her skin, and she arched into his palms, seeking his touch.
“Ye’re so bonnie,” he said, settling himself between her legs and kissing her again. “Ye’re the bonniest in all the Highlands, and ye’ll only be even more bonnie as ye grow our bairn.”
Ryan didn’t give her a chance to respond before he connected their mouths again. His arousal dug into the soft flesh of her inner thigh, promising that she’d get the relief she wanted desperately. She shifted against him, giving him permission without breaking away from his kiss.
“I’ll give ye what ye’re askin’ for,” he said before lining himself up and pushing into her core.
Margaret whimpered into his mouth, the sound being swallowed up by him before it got the chance to echo around the clearing. The intrusion was pressure and delight all wrapped up into one toe-curling sensation. She held onto his back, her nails digging into his firm muscles.
“Ye’ve nay idea how much I love ye,” Ryan said as he slowly began the steady rhythm of his hips. “And I cannae tell ye how happy I am that we’re going to have a bairn runnin’ around soon.”
She was unable to respond, her mind overwhelmed by the feelings he was giving her. His words combined with the way he worked her body was enough to make heat coil in her abdomen. This Highlander knew exactly how to bring her to the edge of a cliff she was coming to know as pleasure.
When he connected their lips again, every nerve in her body lit up. Her affection, her love for him grew, filling her up. Then, with one particularly hard and precise thrust, all of those sentiments spilled over.
Ryan’s name spilled from her lips, and she held onto him tighter.
Her peak was intense, flashes of light dancing behind her eyelids as he continued to play on her senses as though she were an instrument.
Then, as her hands opened and closed against the powerful flesh of his back, he growled low and possessive before joining her on her plunge over the edge.
They held onto each other as they rode out wave after wave, Ryan rocking into her and drawing out the sensations. Just as Margaret began to think she’d float away, leave the ground and never return, he slowed, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Perfect, Me Lady,” he said, swiping her sweat-damp brow with his thumb.
“Mm,” Margaret hummed as she leaned into his touch. “I could say the same about you.”
“Ach, if that’s what ye think of me,” he said, pulling out and grabbing the edge of his kilt to wrap around the two of them, “ken that I’m only perfect because of ye.”
As he brought her against his chest, Margaret marveled at the wholeness she felt.
She’d been so afraid when she ran away to Scotland.
In fact, she’d accepted that she was losing a part of herself in doing so, all to keep her family safe.
But now, lying surrounded by the strength of her Highlander, she knew that couldn’t be further from the truth.
In Ryan, she’d found a protector and companion, someone that she was eager to build a life with. He’d proven her wrong, shown her that Highland men weren’t savages. And never in her life had she been so happy to be incorrect.
“I love you, Ryan,” she said, letting her eyes fall closed. “Thank you for loving me in turn.”
“Aye,” he said, pushing her hair from her forehead and pressing a gentle kiss there. “How could I nae?”
The End?