Chapter Twenty-Five
Emma knew there was much more that Morgan could teach her, and with the little bit they’d been able to do on the way to Clyth Castle with an almost-audience not too far from them, she felt herself relax now, as she hadn’t done before.
Morgan began by removing her gown, faster than she’d ever removed it herself.
’Twas the first time she’d been completely unclothed in front of him. However, whatever embarrassment she felt soon faded with the hungry look in his eyes as he reached up and cupped both of her breasts, kneading the flesh and tweaking her stiffened nipples.
“No’ fair for me to be the only one undressed.” She barely recognized her own voice, with how breathless she sounded.
He tucked his hands behind his head and smiled at her. “Aye, love, go right ahead and do what ye want.”
Emma grinned and started by loosening the top fastenings at the neck of his léine. She gathered the cloth in her fists and moved it up and over his head.
She ran her palms over his chest, amazed at the amount of muscle he’d recovered since his injury. Curly dark hair was scattered over the area, and she could not resist running her fingers through it.
’Twas soft, much like the hair on his head. She looked into his deep brown eyes which had darkened almost black. “Now the breeches must go.”
It took not much more than seconds to get them unfastened and off his body. As she tossed them off the bed, Morgan reached up and pulled her over his body. She loved how he was hard where she was soft and enjoyed the difference in their bodies as she rubbed herself over him.
He reached up and cupped her face in his hands and kissed her like he’d never kissed her before. His tongue immediately entered her mouth, and she sucked on it, causing him to moan. “Lass, I love how ye do that. I’ll have another place ye can do that one day.”
Being a healer, she was quite certain she knew exactly what place he wanted her mouth. Instead of being taken aback by his words, her stomach muscles tightened, and she found herself looking forward to that particular activity.
Morgan shifted bit.
“Are ye in pain?”
He shook his head and slid his hand down her body to her center, already wet for him.
He took her breast in his mouth and bit lightly on her nipple, which had her moaning. “That feels so good.”
They both stopped when there was a knock on the door. “Whoever is on the other side of that door better be ready to meet his Maker if there is another knock.”
Morgan didn’t wait for a response, but took her breast in his mouth again and while feasting there, began to circle the stiffened flesh at her core with his thumb. It didn’t take Emma long to forget the knock on the door, or anything else except her husband and what he was doing to her.
“I have so much to teach ye, wife, but now I’m too anxious to enter yer warm moist body. I will see to yer pleasure first and then mine. More lessons to follow.”
Morgan began sliding his finger in and out of her opening while keeping both his thumb and mouth busy pleasuring her.
Emma felt the tension building and squeezed her legs together and pushed against his hand until she moaned as waves of pleasure raced through her body.
For someone with sore ribs, Morgan managed to quickly climb between her legs. The last of the waves of pleasure slid over her body as he thrust into her, causing the wave to continue on.
He cupped her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his, while his body continued to thrust. He gave a shout as his hot liquid poured into her.
They both lay panting, covered with sweat. “I think ye need to get something cold for my ribs, healer,” he said once they’d caught their breath and calmed down.
She abruptly sat up. “Did ye damage it?”
“Maybe just a tad.” He pushed the sweaty locks from her forehead. “But I wed the best healer in the world, so I ken she can fix me up.”
Emma scooted off the bed, grumbling at Morgan’s laughter at her bare bottom as he swatted it.
*
Once Morgan was fixed up with a cold linen for his ribs, he returned to the chair in front of the fireplace with the records he’d had Emma request from Patrick when she went for the chilled cloth.
He spent a couple of hours going over the mess that was both his uncle’s and Patrick’s doing. It would take him weeks to straighten it all out to even know where the clan stood on finances.
Emma walked over to him holding a trencher of stew, with bread tucked in, and a cup of ale. “’Tis time to put the numbers away, husband. Ye need to eat to build yer body back up.”
He grinned as he took the food. “Did ye see anything wrong with my body a couple of hours ago, lass?”
She smiled, heat climbing up her body to her face. She returned to the tray by the door to get her own serving and carried it back to where Morgan sat. She took the chair next to him.
“I wonder who knocked on the door before?” she said after swallowing a mouthful of stew.
“I doona ken, but since I doona hear the shouts of warriors’ swords clashing and the building is still standing, no’ burned to the ground, it matters no’.”
“Now that ye are back home and have already clashed with Patrick, how do ye feel about yer new position as laird?”
Morgan laid his spoon down. “I kenned Patrick would be a problem, so aside from him insulting ye, nothin’ he’s done has surprised me. What matters more is how many of the clan members he has behind him.”
“I’m no’ sure how ye feel about Gregory being here, along with Mackenzie warriors, but at least ye have strength at yer back in case of an actual clash.”
He handed Emma his empty trencher and mug and she carried it back to the tray with her items. “’Tis good and no’ so good,” he said.
“I doona want to look as though I canno’ handle my duties, or need the strength of another clan.
That could give Patrick something to point out to those who are more than happy to support him.
” He yawned and shook his head. “I think yer tonic has taken effect.”
“It should have taken effect hours ago. I think ye were fighting it and now that ye’ve eaten, it’s hitting ye.”
Morgan walked to the bed and sat, holding out his arms. Emma joined him and they both slid under the covers. She turned her back to him and he wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her close. In the short time they’d been married, this had already become their nighttime ritual.
Morgan kissed the back of her head. “Good sleep, wife.”
“Ye as well, husband.”