Chapter 34
CHAPTER 34
Grant surrounded her, held her, and filled her. She did not understand how she’d gone so long without ever knowing something like this existed. No wonder why no one spoke of what happened between husband and wife—no one would do anything else, she was sure.
And folk would clamor to marry for this kind of love.
For her body trembled under his touch, and her heart shivered at his murmurs of love.
“Imagine if I never found ye,” he said into her neck and kissed her there. “Nay, it couldnae be. I was meant to find ye, and ye were meant to find me.” He shuddered against her, and she cried out as she arched against him, intense pleasure simmering in her core. “Ye feel so good.”
If Emma could speak, she would have agreed. As it was, she wondered if one could die from pleasure and joy. Grant spoke in Gaelic then, as though he could no longer find the words in English. And she loved feeling that heated, strange language against her skin.
I love you. She pressed back against him, circling her hips to meet his, and starting to shake with bliss. You are mine, and I am yours.
“I love ye,” Grant rasped in her ear and lifted her so that she was in his lap, and he drove up into her. At that angle, he hit a deeper spot, and she writhed, then gasped into his mouth as he kissed her. “Ye are mine. Ye have always been mine, and I have always been yers.”
At that moment, her pleasure hit its crescendo, and her entire body seemed to clench and ripple around Grant, who let out a guttural groan. He shook against her, thrusting into her a few more times, and then they both collapsed onto the bed.
Grant lay half on top of her, breathing hard, his arms and legs wrapped around her, and Emma never wanted him to move. Her body had never felt more alive, never felt more sensitive in the most delicious of ways, and she let out a happy sigh as he kissed her shoulder.
“Lass, ye are extraordinary,” he murmured. “Truly.”
Emma, feeling shy, snuggled against him, but then they rolled over to face each other. “Is it always like this? So intense?”
Grant’s eyes were filled with dancing golden light—the green was so bright against his ruddy cheeks and dark hair. “Nay, lass. That is rare. But I hope it will be like that for us.”
A deep, pleasurable shiver ran through her. “I don’t know if I want that or…”
“Ah,” Grant said with a laugh. “I ken what ye mean. We might never get anythin’ done again and never catch our breath. But it can be just as good in other ways.” He kissed her forehead. “There are so, so many things ye will learn—and me as well, it seems.”
With that, he got up, stretching.
Emma laughed as she watched him walk away and turn back. “You were wearing your boots?”
Her husband-to-be flushed and shrugged. “Aye, didnae have time to take them off.”
Emma, realizing that her gown was half-torn, her underclothes shredded, and her entire person in disarray while there was a half-naked Scot in boots in her bedroom, burst into helpless laughter. Grant chuckled as well, but then he wrapped his hand around her ankle and pulled her toward him.
“I want to see all of ye,” he said. “Let’s get this frippery off.”
Emma leaned up on her elbows and shook back her hair, then extended one leg. “Go on, then. You already destroyed my undergarments, you brute.”
Grant pulled off her stocking and kissed the inside of her ankle. “I shall get ye more. Or perhaps we willnae need them.”
She pretended to kick him with her other foot, and he caught it and pulled off the other stocking. He slid a callused hand up her calf, making her shiver, then pressed his lips to the inside of her knee.
“Let me stand up,” she said, and he pulled her up, raising an eyebrow as he did so. “I mean to get this frippery off, Sir. And you are trying to distract me.”
He smiled at her mock-haughty tone and bowed. “I’m afraid I was taken with yer pretty legs, Me Lady.”
Emma laughed and spun around, cupping her breasts. “Will you undo my stays and ties?” His capable hands immediately went to her waist. “Thank you.”
When he finished, she took off her skirts and then pulled her chemise over her head, even as Grant tried to tug it off.
“You, too,” she said as she glanced back at him, then turned around. “No boots this time.”
“Ye liked it,” he teased, even as he took off his boots, then his layers, and finally his kilt. “As ye like all of this.”
Emma could hardly breathe as she took in the naked, strong warrior standing in front of her. She could hardly believe that his manhood had fit inside of her.
He brushed back his hair and smiled at her, his green eyes glinting. “Shall I tear that chemise off ye, Lady Emma?”
Emma swallowed, then slowly shed her chemise until she, too, stood naked in front of him, her hair tickling her skin. Grant’s eyes roamed over her from head to toe, and she felt herself flush under his scrutiny. When his eyes flicked back up, she felt her center throb, then blinked when she noticed that his member had stiffened.
“Oh,” she murmured.
“Ready for ye again, lass,” he said with a smile. He reached out and caressed her cheek. “I also… I am nae sure if ye have heard of this, but like I pleasured ye in the woods with me tongue?—”
Emma half-yelped, half-laughed, and she swatted him away. “Grant!”
“We are to be married, and we are standin’ naked together in the room where I took yer maidenhead—‘tis nae the time to be shy, lass. But wives—women, they may pleasure their men in a similar way.” He took her chin. “I confess, I have thought of yer saucy mouth in such a way.”
Emma did not understand until he dragged his thumb along her lower lip and gave her a meaningful look.
“Oh,” she breathed, shivering all over. She gazed down at his manhood. “I…”
Her mouth ran dry, and a bolt of excitement shot through her.
“Ye dinnae have to,” Grant murmured.
“You like it, though,” Emma pointed out, giving him a sultry look.
“Aye,” Grant said.
“And I can give you pleasure like what you gave me?” she asked.
He nodded, his eyes dancing.
“I want to,” she confessed. “Seems only fair.”
For a moment, she eyed him, then she realized what to do and sank down to her knees. Grant sucked in a sharp breath, and she smiled up at him, letting her hands rest on his strong thighs while his length bobbed in front of her.
“How is this?” she asked.
“Christ in Heaven,” Grant ground out, the muscles in his neck tense. “I may come from the sight alone.”
“Not yet,” Emma murmured and pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of his member, causing him to shout.
Eyeing it, she began to use her hands and mouth, kissing and licking. Grant’s hands delved into her hair and tugged on it, not painfully but firmly, and he guided her.
He began to murmur praise and adulation, making her brim over with a strange pride. But even as he encouraged and instructed her, Emma knew that she had this big Scottish warrior, this Laird and former mercenary, at her mercy.
She, Emma Wells, had conquered the Devil of Banrose’s heart—and body.
Grant seemed to struggle to hold out longer, but she got the hang of it too quickly, and soon he was shouting out his climax. He all but collapsed onto the edge of the bed, drawing in deep gulps of air, and Emma sprawled beside him. She trailed her fingers up his sternum and across his pectorals, which were lightly dusted with dark hair.
“You are so strong,” she murmured. “And so beautiful.”
A laugh rumbled out of him. “Only a Sassenach would say such a thing.” He rolled toward her, his gaze wicked and sensual. “I have recovered from yer sinful and skilled mouth, me love. Shall I return the pleasure?”
Emma bit her lip and shook her head. “No. Will you… Can we do something while facing each other? I want to see your face?—”
She barely had time to finish that sentence before Grant had stood up and wrapped an arm around her waist. In a series of fast, fluid motions, he’d thrown back the covers, tossed her on the pillows, and climbed over her.
Emma reached for him and slid her hands up his strong stomach, feeling his muscles flex under her touch. Grant knelt between her legs and pushed them apart, then gripped her hips. She gasped as he pulled her closer, one hand on her hip and the other splayed across her stomach.
“Oh, Emma,” he murmured as his hard length stroked her pulsing, hot center. “There are so many ways I can take ye. I am nae sure one lifetime will be enough.” His eyes glinted at her. “Shall I show ye?”
Emma nodded, and he surged inside her, causing her to arch off the bed. One of his hands gripped her breast, doing wicked things to her nipple, and the other held her hips.
“Wrap yer legs around me. Aye—see, yer body kens.”
His hair fell forward, and Emma fought to keep her eyes open, to watch him take her. She loved the way his face became fierce and focused, but his eyes never lost that playful heat or deep tenderness.
This time, he was slower and more deliberate, which only drew out her pleasure in a way that made her beg for release. Soon, he was wrapped around her, still going slow, tasting her pleas on his tongue.
“Grant,” she sobbed. “I cannot—I must, please .”
“Ye can, and I ken,” he murmured.
Suddenly, his hand was between them, teasing a secret spot between her legs, and Emma came so hard that she saw stars.
Grant seemed to hold off his pleasure until her climax ebbed, as though he knew that she wanted to see him come undone. And when he did, her body arched off the bed as she climaxed again.
After that, it took them several minutes to speak, never mind move.
But soon, they were wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing hard, a dance that played over and over throughout the night.
As Grant promised, he taught her pleasure and sweetness and love until the sun rose and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.