Chapter Twenty #3
Annys stroked the smooth, warm skin on his broad back.
As he kissed his way to her breasts, she noticed that something was different.
The desire she felt for him had always been hot but now she realized that there were no tethers on it.
Deep inside, where she had been able to ignore it, had lingered a shame over how much she had craved and enjoyed lovemaking with a man who had not been her husband.
She had obviously not been disregarding the rules as completely as she had believed.
Desire stole her ability to think as he made love to her.
He left no part of her untouched or untasted.
Annys was trembling with the need to feel him inside her.
She clutched at his broad shoulders and tugged, urging him back into her arms. The way he made love to her with his mouth, his intimate kisses, made her ache, but she wanted them to find their releases as one, joined in body as they were now joined by vows.
“Harcourt,” she cried, barely recognizing her own voice, which was thick and husky with desire, “I want ye with me.”
He stroked her one last time with his tongue, intoxicated by the taste of her, before slowly kissing his way back up her body.
The way her eyes were darkened by passion’s heat only added to his need for her.
He, too, wanted them to find their joy as one.
It would be the perfect seal to their wedding night, to the vows they had just exchanged.
Annys cried out with pleasure as he thrust himself inside her.
She slid her hands down his sides until she could clutch his taut backside as he moved.
When her release came it shook her to her core.
The way Harcourt’s thrusts grew fierce told her he was close and then she felt the warmth of his seed spill inside her, telling her he was with her as she fell.
That knowledge sent yet another wave of intense pleasure through her.
A small, sane fragment of her desire-fogged mind heard him say something and clung to the words.
Harcourt had already cleaned them both off, settled at her side in bed, and pulled her close to his side before that desperately grasped memory spread through her mind.
At first Annys doubted what her mind was telling her.
She had not been clearheaded and her need to hear those words was so fierce she could easily have imagined it.
She sighed. It was time to grow a backbone.
“Did ye say ye love me?” she asked, her heart beating so fast she was surprised he did not feel it.
“Aye. Wondered if ye had heard me.” He kissed the top of her head and lightly stroked her back. “I can wait until ye feel the same. I think ’tis near. Ye just need a wee bit more time. I understand that. Matters have moved fast and there was a lot that needed doing.”
Annys propped herself up on one elbow and stared at him.
“I think Joan is right. Men can be idiots.” She bit back a smile when he looked both confused and a little insulted.
“Do ye truly believe I would yet again marry a mon I didnae love?” The glint of hope in his eyes made her brave.
“I think I loved ye five years ago. ’Tis why it hurt so badly when ye rode away without a word, without a backward glance. ”
He pulled her into his arms. “That was the hardest thing I have e’er done but ye were married.”
“I ken it and I finally let that heal the wound. Ye had no choice. I had no choice.”
“So, ye love me.”
“Aye, fool.”
He laughed. “Aye, I think I might be. Then again, men dinnae often think marriage or passion need love.”
“I ken it. ’Tis why I didnae dare hope that it was what inspired you.”
“I think there is a lesson here.”
“Aye? What would that be?” She began to stroke his belly, smiling to herself when she felt him harden against her leg.
“The lesson here is that we must nay just think we ken what the other feels or thinks. We must say it. Just say it.”
“A verra good plan, Sir Harcourt.” She lifted her head from his chest and kissed him. “I love you.”
“And I love you, m’lady.”
“I am actually thinking something now if ye care to hear it.”
“What would that be?”
She slid her hand down his belly and clasped him in her hand. “I am thinking ’tis my wedding night and ye are nay paying the proper homage to your new wife.”
He laughed and rolled until she was beneath him. “I will pay ye homage until ye scream my name, m’lady.”
“We shall see, my boastful knight.”
She did. Annys just prayed everyone at Glencullaich was asleep or she would never hear the end of it.
Harcourt looked at the woman asleep in his arms and sighed.
He should tell her about his concerns after all that fine talk about just speaking up.
Yet, it had just been a small worry. It had begun to grow as they spoke of love though.
Gormfeurach was no Glencullaich. It was a warrior’s home with good defenses but little else.
He could not help but wonder what she was going to think about her new home.
He did not fear one look at the place would kill her love, but he did dread the fact that she could be sorely disappointed in the home he was offering her.