Chapter Twenty-Three
Errol woke to soft fingers drawing circles around his nipples and his cock roared to life. He grasped Moira’s tiny fingers in his, stopping the sensuous torture.
“Should I no’?”
“’Tis no’ that. How are ye feeling?”
She turned and rested her chin on his chest. “Sore. But in the best possible way.” Her face grew serious. “When—when can we do that again?” She asked.
“Whene’er ye are ready, Lass.” He brought her fingers to his lips. “Good morn, by the way.”
“Good morn. So, now, then?”
“I thought ye said ye were sore.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “Aye, but I also said in the best possible way.”
He smiled. “Come here.” Pulling her over him, he lined up his hardness to her entrance and lifted his hips, hissing as he sank into her softness. “Sit up, Lass. Ride me.”
Confusion darkened her eyes, until she understood what he was saying.
And then she did, moving her hips rhythmically, and took his breath away.
She rode him so sweetly as he reached out and tweaked her nipples, causing her to squeal.
He lifted his hips and met her thrust for thrust. Felt his bollocks tighten.
Christ. He couldn’t last with this woman.
He dropped his hand to her nestle of curls.
Found the little bud of nerves and circled it with his thumb, applying pressure.
She spasmed around him, squeezing him. Milking him. So impossibly tight.
Her legs stiffened on either side of him, and he flipped her onto her back, driving into her until he met his release. Her body drawing him in his release until he was truly spent.
He couldn’t believe he almost missed this. If he hadn’t listened to Moira. Or agreed to assist her. If he kept her away because she was a Hart. What a fool he would have been.
Slender arms wrapped around his neck. “I love ye, Errol.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love ye as well, Lass.”
*
They spent the ride back to MacLeod Keep learning more about each other. Moira spoke so openly he felt like he had kenned her for her whole life. He could see why she and Anna were so close.
As MacLeod Keep came into view, he straightened in his saddle. Robbie would have arrived already, giving his father the report of what had happened. Given him the treasure they had found. The letters. Information about MacPhail.
“Is something amiss?” Moira asked.
He softened his shoulders. He hadn’t realized he was holding himself so rigid. “Nay. I am only thinking about our arrival.”
Her smile faltered slightly. “It willnae be easy convincing our families of all that we have uncovered. Will it?”
He shook his head. “But we will.”
They rode through the gates and into the courtyard, where Robbie waited, Errol’s father beside him, arms crossed, a fierce look on his face.
Moira seemed to shrink in her saddle. “Dinna fash. All will be well. I promise ye.”
They stopped their horses, and stable boys rushed forward to care for them.
He lifted Moira off her horse and set her on the ground, holding her steady so she didn’t fall. “All is well, I promise,” he whispered.
When their gazes met, she nodded, and when he clasped her hand to walk to his father, her eyes rounded.
His father stood stock still, eyes narrowed, arms still crossed. “In my study,” he barked afore turning on his heel and heading into the keep, Robbie following him.
Anna rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Moira’s neck in a tight hug. “Ye made it back!”
When Moira winced, his sister pulled away, brows drawn down in concern as she held Moira at arm’s length to look her over.
Moira’s wound would heal just fine, and she kept insisting that she wasn’t in any pain on their travel back home, but he got the feeling she was putting on a brave face so it didn’t delay their arrival any longer.
Errol didn’t hear the rest of Moira and Anna’s conversation as he trailed his father to his study.
In the room, it was Errol, Robbie, his father, and his uncle.
“Sit.” His father ordered and Errol did as he was told. But if his father told him that he would need to let Moira go, he was sorely mistaken.
“I have a messenger out to Laird Hart stating that his presence is required to discuss an important matter and to bring his family.”
Errol’s brows rose, but he said naught.
“Whilst I dinnae approve of how ye two went about what ye did, I must commend ye on yer findings.”
“’Twas Moira mostly. She is smart. Strong. Brave.”
His father held up his hand. “I can see that ye are enamored with her. Am I to assume that ye…” his father’s words trailed off and Errol bit his lip.
But he wasn’t ashamed of what had happened betwixt them. “She is to be my wife.”
Laird MacLeod nodded. “I can see that. ’Twas evident the moment ye rode through the gate.”
“Does that mean ye approve?”
“Would it matter if I didnae?”
Errol grinned sheepishly. “Nay, but ’twould make things more difficult.”
“There will be much to discuss with Laird Hart. We have years of strife to resolve. What ye have uncovered will help a lot with the healing that will require.” He scratched his chin. “Now, ye defiling their eldest daughter, that will be a bigger hurdle.”
“Da!” Errol snapped. “I didnae—”
His father raised a brow as if daring him to say that he hadn’t made Moira his.
“Ye make it sound like she’s some tavern wench. I love her.”
His father’s eyes rounded, and his uncle sucked in a breath.
But when he looked at Robbie, he had a kenning smile on his face as his head bobbed up and down. “Exactly as I had predicted. Ye were a lost pup the second ye laid eyes on the lass.”
An hour later as Errol made his way through the keep to find Moira, he still couldn’t believe what had transpired.
“Ye have my blessing.”
His father said that. It nearly knocked Errol on his arse when the words left his father’s lips.
He took the stairs two at a time, following the sound of excited giggles that could only be Anna and Moira’s, along with their maids, since they’d all been reunited.
Knocking on the door, he heard them telling each other to be quiet. Anna opened the door, a wide grin splitting her face.
“Brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked innocently.
He tilted his head to the side. “Ye ken why I am here.” He looked over her shoulder and met Moira’s gaze and smiled.
She ran toward him, skirting around Anna and jumped into his arms, nuzzling into his neck.
“Careful, Lass,” he warned. “Yer side.” But Errol held her tight, spinning them around before setting her down on her feet.
He dug around in his pocket and closed his fingers around the gold band that he’d polished.
It only made sense to continue the union of the MacLeod and the Hart with the rings that had started it all those years ago.
“Moira Hart. Ye have captured my heart, body, and soul. The thought of a day spent without ye is devastating. I fear I cannae live without ye. Will ye do me the biggest honor of becoming my wife?”
Moira’s hands flew to her cheeks, swiping at the tears threatening to spill over.
Behind her, Anna, Fina, and Seema, were all jumping up and down, clapping their hands excitedly.
But Errol? He was stiff, worried, as he waited what seemed like an eternity for Moira to answer. But when she looked up at him with her big, blue, tear-filled eyes, a huge smile on her face as she nodded and jumped into his arms again, he kenned all would be right with the world.
“Aye, aye, aye!” She said, betwixt the kisses she peppered over his face afore finally settling on his lips.
“I’ve something for ye,” he said as she hopped down, waiting patiently.
Withdrawing the ring, he smiled when recognition lit her face up. “’Tis their ring,” she whispered in awe.
“Nay, ’tis ours now. ’Tis us that will rebirth the Hart and MacLeod union. We will continue the legacy they started all those years ago.”
She sniffed, nodding as Errol slid the ring on her finger.
Their wedding would come later, planned with all the fanfare that Moira deserved. But until then, she was his, and he was hers.