Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“The victory belongs to me, husband,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice, “so what garment will ye take off?”
Laura’s fingers trembled slightly as she laid down her winning hand.
Her eyes flicked to Bradley, and she saw the faint smirk tugging at his lips. With deliberate slowness, he reached behind and tugged off his tunic, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud.
Laura’s gaze traveled over him, lingering, exploring.
His chest was broad and sculpted, muscles honed from years of work and combat.
Each line of his form spoke of strength and power, and she felt a stirring in her body she had not fully anticipated.
The flush warmed her cheeks as her mind recalled the heat of his kisses, the way his hands had made her pulse quicken.
Bradley caught her gaze, dark and knowing, and his brow lifted in silent challenge.
Laura’s lips parted, and she struggled to look away, caught in the pull of desire.
Her fingers tightened around her cards, though they felt heavy and unnecessary in her hand.
She could feel his fire, his presence overwhelming in the quiet of the library, and her heart raced in tandem.
“What is it, lass?” he asked softly, voice low and curious, sensing her sudden distraction.
Laura blinked, cheeks still pink, and shook her head quickly. “Nay… nothin’,” she murmured, trying to regain composure. “It is yer turn to deal the cards.”
Bradley’s smirk deepened as he picked up the deck, his bare chest glinting faintly in the candlelight.
Laura’s eyes followed his movements, the tension between them thickening, yet she forced herself to focus on the game.
She could feel desire rising like a tide, inescapable, yet she masked it with playful teasing.
The memory of his lips on hers haunted her, making her pulse quicken with both fear and anticipation.
Bradley shuffled the cards with effortless skill, his hands strong and confident.
Laura could not help but notice the subtle flex of his biceps, the way his skin caught the flickering light, and she swallowed hard.
A part of her wanted to lean forward, to feel the warmth of him again, yet decorum and her own resolve held her at bay.
She shifted in her chair, feeling both scandalized and intrigued by the intensity of the moment.
“Ye’re quiet, lass,” Bradley said, voice gentle yet teasing, “as if ye’re considerin’ somethin’ wicked in yer mind.”
Laura’s lips curved into a faint smile, trying to deflect. “Nay,” she replied, her voice careful, “I am just thinkin’ on how to play the next hand.”
Her pulse betrayed her, though, hammering in her throat and ears, betraying the thoughts she dared not speak aloud. The game had become more than cards; it was a dance of desire, teasing, and unspoken longing between them.
She watched him deal with careful precision, each movement mesmerizing, and she felt the magnetic pull of his presence.
The fire in her chest grew warmer, a soft ache of wanting she could not name aloud.
Yet she forced herself to concentrate, even as her eyes kept drifting back to the powerful lines of his body.
Bradley’s dark gaze met hers for a fleeting moment, and she nearly melted under the intensity of it, cheeks aflame.
The next round began with Laura’s heart thudding against her ribs, her focus scattered by the heat in Bradley’s gaze. The flicker of the hearth light cast shadows over his bare chest as he dealt the cards, his lips curved in a knowing smirk.
Laura tried to steady her breathing, but luck betrayed her this time; her hand was weaker, and Bradley’s grin widened in triumph.
“It seems the loss is yers, wife,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with something darker than playfulness.
Laura met his gaze, feeling her pulse quicken, and slowly pushed back her chair.
“Aye, so it is,” she said softly. Rising, she reached down to her skirts, her fingers brushing against the hem of her stocking. With deliberate slowness, she rolled the fabric down her thigh, feeling Bradley’s eyes follow every movement until the silk slipped free from her leg.
Bradley drew in a sharp breath, the sound barely audible, but it made her heart leap.
His gaze darkened with desire, the space between them charged like a storm about to break.
“Ye play dangerous games, lass,” he said, his voice rough, each word vibrating with restrained hunger.
Laura’s lips curved faintly. “Perhaps I like the danger, husband,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly with the brave choice of words.
He moved then, swift and certain, closing the distance between them. His hands came to her waist as he pulled her close, his breath mingling with hers.
“Ye drive me mad, Laura,” he muttered before his lips crashed against hers in a kiss fierce and consuming. She melted into him, her fingers threading through his hair as the cards scattered, forgotten across the floor, their game abandoned to the fire burning between them.
Bradley’s hands moved with a desperate surety, sliding lower as though nothing on earth could stop him.
Laura gasped against his mouth, her fingers clutching him, her body burning with a fever she could no longer fight.
His touch grazed her hip, searing her through the barrier of fabric. She trembled, her breath ragged, and whispered his name like a plea.
“Bradley…”
He tore his mouth from hers long enough to look at her, his chest rising and falling like a man at the edge of madness.
“Tell me, lass,” he rasped, his voice hoarse, “tell me ye want this, else I’ll stop here.”
Laura’s lips parted, her eyes wide and shimmering with fear and hunger both.
“I want ye, Bradley… I’ve wanted ye since ye first kissed me.”
A guttural groan broke from his throat, his restraint snapping as he gathered her closer.
His hand slid beneath the folds of her gown, rough, calloused fingers meeting smooth, heated skin.
Laura gasped, her body arching into him, her senses reeling with the shocking intimacy of his touch.
“Sweet saints,” he muttered, his lips devouring her throat, “ye’re soft as silk.”
Her body quivered as his hand traced higher, each stroke setting her aflame. She felt shame whisper at the edges of her thoughts, but desire roared louder, sweeping her away. Her vow to the Abbey seemed distant, shadowed, when compared to the vow she had made to this man before God.
“Ye’re me husband,” she whispered, as if reminding herself as much as him.
“Aye, and ye’re mine,” he answered fiercely, his hand cupping her breast again, his thumb circling until she gasped.
The sound tore through him, and he kissed her with brutal tenderness, his hunger barely leashed. Laura moaned softly, her fingers slipping onto his chest, needing to feel more of him. The solid muscle beneath her hands made her dizzy with want.
His chest was broad and hard, his skin bronzed from the sun, every line of him cut with strength. Laura’s trembling hand traced over him, her fingertips gliding over the ridges of his chest. He shivered under her touch, his jaw tightening as though her caress tested the last of his control.
“Ye’ll be the death of me, lass,” he groaned, seizing her hand and pressing it over his racing heart. “Feel what ye do to me.”
Laura’s throat tightened as she felt the thunder of his pulse beneath her palm.
“It matches mine,” she whispered, her lips trembling, “as if our hearts are one.”
Her words seemed to undo him, for he picked her up and placed her on the rug before the hearth. He pressed on top of her, his body covering hers.
Laura clung to him, her breath coming in short, frantic bursts as his mouth moved over her throat, her shoulder, lower still. He kissed the delicate skin where her gown had slipped aside, leaving trails of fire wherever his lips lingered.
His hands fumbled at her gown, his breath harsh as he pulled at the fabric.
“Let me see ye, Laura,” he whispered, the words thick with yearning. Her face flushed hot, shame and desire warring within her, but she nodded faintly.
He went to work untying laces. Slipping the layers down, and eased the fabric down, revealing her body to his gaze. His breath caught in reverence.
“God above,” he murmured, his hand trembling as it traced her skin. “Ye’re bonnie as the dawn, lass.”
Laura’s cheeks burned, her eyes darting away, feeling ashamed to be fully naked in front of a man. His hand tilted her chin back to meet his gaze.
“Daenae hide from me. I’ll cherish every inch of ye.”
Her heart swelled at his words, the fear inside her easing as he lowered his mouth to her skin again.
His lips brushed her breast, gently at first, then more insistently as she gasped and clung to his hair.
A low moan slipped from her lips, shocking her, but Bradley groaned in answer, as though her sound only fueled his hunger.
“Aye, lass, give me yer voice.”
Laura writhed beneath him, her body aching with need, her mind reeling with the intensity of it. His hand slid lower, trailing heat over her stomach, then still lower, until she gasped aloud.
He kissed her fiercely, swallowing her cry as his fingers moved down to the soft mound between her thighs. He teased her with aching slowness.
She clung to him, her body shuddering, undone by the sensations he coaxed from her.
“Ye’re mine, Laura,” he growled against her lips, his hand still working its torment.
“Say it, lass.”
She moaned his name, her head tossing back. “I’m yers, Bradley… aye, I’m yers.” His lips curved against hers, a sound of triumph mingling with desire.
He shifted then, pulling off his kilt. His body was fully nude and pressed against hers. With his weight settling more fully upon her, his intent was clear in the way he pressed against her.
Laura’s breath caught, nerves flaring with fear even as her body cried out for him. “Bradley…” she whispered, her hands gripping his shoulders. He stilled, his eyes burning into hers.
“I’ll nae harm ye,” he vowed, his voice rough with restraint. “But I cannae stop, lass… nae when ye’ve given me permission like this.”
Tears pricked her eyes as she cupped his cheek, her heart aching with a strange, fierce tenderness. “Then take me… I want ye, truly.”
His control broke with her words, and he kissed her savagely, his body surging forward.
Laura gasped as he entered her, a sharp cry leaving her lips at the suddenness of it. The loss of her virginity.
Bradley groaned, his forehead pressed to hers, his body taut as he stilled to let her adjust.
“Forgive me, lass,” he whispered, his voice frayed, “ye’re tight as a vise.”
She trembled, her breath uneven, the sting slowly giving way to a flood of heat.
“Daenae stop,” she whispered, her nails digging into his back. He kissed her deeply and tenderly before moving again, slow at first, then with gathering urgency.
Laura gasped, her body clinging to his, her senses overwhelmed by the rhythm of their union. Her fingers pressed into his back as he slid his throbbing manhood back and forth inside of her.
“Ye feel made for me,” he groaned, his lips brushing her ear.
“Saints help me, I’ll never let ye go,” Laura cried out, her body tightening around him, the sensations building higher, fiercer, until she thought she’d shatter apart.
“Bradley!” she cried, her voice breaking as the wave of pleasure consumed her.
“That’s it, lass. Release on me,” he groaned.
His hand roamed with unrestrained purpose, sliding down her side and back up again as if memorizing every line of her body.
Laura’s breath caught, her lips parting as she widened her legs, her body betraying her with its eager response.
His mouth trailed down her throat, his teeth grazing lightly against her tender skin. She trembled, clutching at his shoulders, unable to fight the fire coursing through her veins.
“Ye’re soft as a dream,” he whispered against her collarbone, his words rough and urgent. His hand cupped her waist, drawing her closer, pressing her against the solid heat of his body.
Laura gasped as the contact sent a shiver of longing straight through her, her pulse racing wildly.
“Bradley…” she murmured, her voice caught between plea and surrender.
He lifted his head, his eyes fierce and searching, his breath hot against her lips.
“Say ye want me to release me seed inside of ye, Laura,” he demanded, the words falling like a command and a prayer all at once.
She swallowed hard, her throat tight, but the truth poured out of her. “I want ye to release yer seed in me, more than I’ve ever dared to want anythin’.”
A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as his mouth claimed hers again, his kiss rougher, hungrier. Laura clung to him, her fingers digging into his flesh as her body writhed beneath his.
His tongue slid against hers, coaxing and claiming, making her dizzy with need. His taste filled her senses, leaving her undone.
He pumped his hips faster, their skin meeting as he moved. His hand slid upward, cupping her breast again, firmer this time, and she gasped into his mouth.
He rolled his thumb over her peak, drawing a cry from her lips that only spurred him further.
“Aye, lass,” he muttered, his lips brushing hers as he teased her again. “Ye answer me with every touch, as though yer body was made for mine.”
Laura’s face flushed as she whispered, “Mayhap it was.”
Her confession made his eyes darken further, his control slipping as he pressed his forehead against hers.
With that, he claimed her mouth again, more desperate than before, his hands moving over her body with urgency. He stroked her thigh, the warmth of his palm searing her.
Laura gasped, her breath catching as her body quivered beneath his touch.
“Bradley, I… I cannae bear it.”
He drew back just enough to look at her, his thumb brushing her swollen lower lip.
“Ye’ll bear it, lass,” he rasped, his eyes burning with a wild intensity. “Ye’ll bear me, and ye’ll ken ye’re mine.”
His voice shook with raw longing as his hand traced the curve of her leg again, higher this time, making her heart hammer.
He roared her name, his body surging with hers as he spilled into her, his strength shuddering in release.
For a long moment, they clung together, trembling, their hearts pounding as one. Laura felt Bradley bury his face in her neck, his breath ragged, his body heavy over hers.
Laura held him close, her tears dampening his hair, not from sorrow but from the raw force of what they had shared.