Epilogue #2
“’Tis a good thing ye are nae weak,” I teased.
He grinned. “I’ll do my best to help ye keep that view, but if ye drop any more clothing, I can nae promise I will nae move.”
“Ye will keep yer promise,” I said, confident that I could trust James’s honor and word.
“Aye, but it may kill me.”
“Oh, nay, my sweet husband,” I said, slipping off my underclothes and standing naked before James.
“By the gods, ye need to remember I’m flesh and blood,” James growled, his jaw ticking and his muscles jumping.
“I want ye filled with such need ye will nae ever forget this night,” I said, bringing my hand to my breast and tweaking my own nipple.
James’s eyes widened as he groaned. “I should nae have told ye about my dream.”
I chuckled heartily. “But ye did, and this is my wedding gift to ye, making that dream of ye watching me pleasure myself come true.”
“Do nae blame me if ye find yerself hoisted and pinned against a wall soon,” James growled.
That was exactly what I was hoping for, but I kept my secret and merely smiled at him as I slid my hand down between my thighs, parted my flesh, found my throbbing spot, aching with need for James, and began to rub it.
I was already so ready, so hot, so full of wanting for James, that a raw moan was instantly ripped from my throat, as I put pressure on the spot and thought of James soon sliding into me to claim me for the first time as his wife.
“Is this how ye imagined me?” I managed to say, even as my desire built within me, rushing my blood through my veins to every part of my body.
“Aye,” James said, his voice rough with his own need. “Let me come to ye,” he said.
“Nae yet,” I gasped as my insides tightened unbearably, and I moved my fingers faster. “Tell me,” I gasped, “what ye are going to do to me when ye come to me.”
“I’m going to hoist ye up and drive into ye whilst we’re standing, and claim ye over and over as ye scream my name.”
My legs began to tremble, and my breasts tightened as my core grew taut and ached. Pressure built, and I could feel myself almost there, almost at the peak. “Now,” I croaked.
I was against the wall in James’s arms in a flash.
My back met the wood, as my feet left the floor, and just as I managed to wrap my legs around his waist, he drove into me, sending me straight over the cliff I had been climbing.
The exquisite shock of him filling me sent wave after wave of pleasure through me, and I tightened around him in tiny pulses, causing a guttural moan to come from him as he slid in and out of me.
Just as my body settled from the first wave of pleasure, James’s movements awakened the insatiable hunger in me to join him once more.
He withdrew nearly to his tip, only to fill me completely.
Soon, I was screaming his name, begging him to go faster, begging him to bring me the release only he could.
He did not disappoint. My back lightly smacked the wall as he took me completely, claiming me as his for all the days we had together.
When it was over and we had both reached oblivion, James cleaned me with tender care after settling me on the bed. Then I nestled into his chest as he pulled the coverlet over us. I pressed my cheek to his heart, enjoying the sure, steady beats and thinking about the fact that I was now aging.
“What has ye grinning?” he asked as he stroked a fallen lock back from my eyes.
I looked up at him. “I’m just thinking that I’m likely the only woman who has ever been so happy to find a silver hair. Will ye find me bonnie when I look older?”
“Lass,” he pressed a kiss to my lips, my forehead, and my nose.
“I will find ye even lovelier because I will see the signs of happiness here.” He touched a finger to my eyes.
“And here.” He ran his thumb along the right corner of my mouth.
“And I will recall the memories we have made and the life we have built and are living.”
“I love ye, James,” I said, kissing him. “Ye are more than I could ever have wished for.”
“And I love ye, my bonnie aging bride.”
Thank you for reading Katreine and James’s story! If you can’t get enough of epic love stories with hot Highlanders, then you should check out my eleven-book HIGHLANDER VOWS: ENTANGLED HEARTS series, which also has a four-book spinoff series OF MIST AND MOUNTAINS!
Keep reading for a glimpse inside WHEN A LAIRD LOVES A LADY, which is book 1 of the Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts series!
England, 1357
Faking her death would be simple. It was escaping her home that would be difficult.
Marion de Lacy stared hard into the slowly darkening sky, thinking about the plan she intended to put into action tomorrow—if all went well—but growing uneasiness tightened her belly.
From where she stood in the bailey, she counted the guards up in the tower.
It was not her imagination: Father had tripled the knights keeping guard at all times, as if he was expecting trouble.
Taking a deep breath of the damp air, she pulled her mother’s cloak tighter around her to ward off the twilight chill.
A lump lodged in her throat as the wool scratched her neck.
In the many years since her mother had been gone, Marion had both hated and loved this cloak for the death and life it represented.
Her mother’s freesia scent had long since faded from the garment, yet simply calling up a memory of her mother wearing it gave Marion comfort.
She rubbed her fingers against the rough material.
When she fled, she couldn’t chance taking anything with her but the clothes on her body and this cloak.
Her death had to appear accidental, and the cloak that everyone knew she prized would ensure her freedom.
Finding it tangled in the branches at the edge of the sea cliff ought to be just the thing to convince her father and William Froste that she’d drowned.
After all, neither man thought she could swim.
They didn’t truly care about her anyway.
Her marriage to the blackhearted knight was only about what her hand could give the two men.
Her father, Baron de Lacy, wanted more power, and Froste wanted her family’s prized land.
A match made in Heaven, if only the match didn’t involve her… but it did.
Father would set the hounds of Hell themselves to track her down if he had the slightest suspicion that she was still alive.
She was an inestimable possession to be given to secure Froste’s unwavering allegiance and, therefore, that of the renowned ferocious knights who served him.
Whatever small sliver of hope she had that her father would grant her mercy and not marry her to Froste had been destroyed by the lashing she’d received when she’d pleaded for him to do so.
The moon crested above the watchtower, reminding her why she was out here so close to mealtime: to meet Angus. The Scotsman may have been her father’s stable master, but he was her ally, and when he’d proposed she flee England for Scotland, she’d readily consented.
Marion looked to the west, the direction from which Angus would return from Newcastle.
He should be back any minute now from meeting his cousin and clansman Neil, who was to escort her to Scotland.
She prayed all was set and that Angus’s kin was ready to depart.
With her wedding to Froste to take place in six days, she wanted to be far away before there was even the slightest chance he’d be making his way here.
And since he was set to arrive the night before the wedding, leaving tomorrow promised she’d not encounter him.
A sense of urgency enveloped her, and Marion forced herself to stroll across the bailey toward the gatehouse that led to the tunnel preceding the drawbridge.
She couldn’t risk raising suspicion from the tower guards.
At the gatehouse, she nodded to Albert, one of the knights who operated the drawbridge mechanism.
He was young and rarely questioned her excursions to pick flowers or find herbs.
“Off to get some medicine?” he inquired.
“Yes,” she lied with a smile and a little pang of guilt.
But this was survival, she reminded herself as she entered the tunnel.
When she exited the heavy wooden door that led to freedom, she wasn’t surprised to find Peter and Andrew not yet up in the twin towers that flanked the entrance to the drawbridge.
It was, after all, time for the changing of the guard.
They smiled at her as they put on their helmets and demi-gauntlets.
They were an imposing presence to any who crossed the drawbridge and dared to approach the castle gate.
Both men were tall and looked particularly daunting in their full armor, which Father insisted upon at all times.
The men were certainly a fortress in their own right.
She nodded to them. “I’ll not be long. I want to gather some more flowers for the supper table.” Her voice didn’t even wobble with the lie.
Peter grinned at her, his kind brown eyes crinkling at the edges. “Will you pick me one of those pale winter flowers for my wife again, Marion?”
She returned his smile. “It took away her anger as I said it would, didn’t it?”
“It did,” he replied. “You always know just how to help with her.”
“I’ll get a pink one if I can find it. The colors are becoming scarcer as the weather cools.”
Andrew, the younger of the two knights, smiled, displaying a set of straight teeth. He held up his covered arm. “My cut is almost healed.”
Marion nodded. “I told you! Now maybe you’ll listen to me sooner next time you’re wounded in training.”
He gave a soft laugh. “I will. Should I put more of your paste on tonight?”