He hurriedly stripped himself of clothing and found her propped on her elbow, watching as he returned to the bed. He reached for her, wanting nothing more than to feel her naked flesh against his.
When he was over her, propped on his elbows, his face just inches from hers, he said, “I’ve tried to give you time to recover, but God’s teeth, Eveline, I want you so. I cannot wait any longer.”
She smiled and lifted her chin so she could kiss him. “I’ve more than recovered. I want you, too, husband.”
With a groan he crushed his mouth to hers, drinking deeply of her sweetness. His body was flush to hers and her softness beckoned, such a wondrous contradiction to the hard planes of his own body.
He rolled, taking her with him so they lay side by side and he simply stared into her eyes, absorbing the glaze in her expression. Desire was evident. It mirrored his own and he had to task himself with treating her gently, no matter that she said she was recovered.
His instinct was to roll back atop her and plunge as deeply into her welcoming body as he could. He wanted to remain inside her, simply feeling her around his cock. He would be content to spend the entire night surrounded by her warmth.
She stirred restlessly beside him, as if she, too, couldn’t wait for him to possess her again. He ran a hand up her leg to her shapely hip and then up her side with a gentle caress until he reached the swell of her breast. There he cupped the soft mound and rubbed his thumb across her puckered crest until it hardened into a point. Then he angled his head down and drew the nipple into his mouth, sucking until she let out a moan and arched farther into him.
Pushing himself farther up so he was above her, he reached down, sliding his hand between her thighs, satisfied to find her hot and damp with desire.
He rubbed over the tiny nub hidden in her woman’s flesh, eliciting another sigh of satisfaction from her. Then he pushed her gently onto her back so he had full access to her body, her br**sts, everything he wanted to kiss and touch and caress.
He loved the contrast of the pale, plump mounds and the pink-tipped ni**les. He could spend hours feasting on them, licking and sucking until he drove them both mad with lust.
Feeling particularly devilish, he licked over one and then followed it with little nips, his teeth grazing the points until they were hard and puckered. Then he licked the other, rubbing his tongue over and around, circling until she was writhing beneath him.
Then he pulled away, staring intently into her beautiful eyes. “Ah, lass, how you tempt me. I cannot spend another moment outside your sweetness.”
He slid his fingers into her opening, wanting to ensure that she was prepared for him. They met with no resistance. She opened easily for him and then fit his fingers snugly as he moved them deeper.
It was enough to send him right over the edge.
He rotated his body over her, moving her thighs apart with his knee. Then he grasped his erection and worked it up and down, bathing himself in her moisture. Finally he positioned himself at her opening and pushed forward, entering her just enough that she fit snugly around the head of his cock.
She closed her eyes and her hands flew to his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh. He pushed farther, gaining another inch. She trembled and then lifted her hips in silent plea for more.
He was more than happy to accommodate her. He surged forward, burying himself to the hilt. She cried out and he went completely still until he realized it wasn’t a cry of pain but one of pleasure.
It was the most intense sensation he’d ever experienced. Never had he realized what it would feel like to be with the right woman. One he wasn’t with for a quick rut and an even quicker release. This was right. So very right, and he knew he’d never feel such again. There would never be another woman for him.
She was his. His wife.
He loved her.
The realization was startling and it overwhelmed him.
Love.
He loved Eveline Armstrong. How could it have happened so quickly? How could he love a woman whose clan had caused his family such grief? Logically he knew—and he’d already made it clear—that she could not be held accountable for the sins of her clan. He even knew that he felt a certain tenderness for her, and aye, a fierce protectiveness.
But love.
’Twas an extraordinary realization and one he hadn’t been prepared for. It was like being hit by a mace.
“Graeme?”
Eveline’s whisper reached his ears, and he realized he’d gone still and was hovering above her as he processed the magnitude of this moment.
“ ’Tis all right,” he said, his voice breaking. And it was. Everything was perfect.
He was holding in his arms the woman meant for him. Nothing would ever feel this right if he lived to be a hundred.
He looked down at her, wanting to savor this moment, to commit to memory the moment he realized just how much Eveline Armstrong meant to him.
A tiny slip of a lass who’d snuck between his defenses. It was baffling even as it was satisfying.
He began to thrust again, this time with slow and measured movements meant to prolong their pleasure. He was besieged by tenderness, by the need to hold her and cherish her. How was he possibly to explain to her what she meant to him? How could he even find the words?
Aye, but he could show her. He could show her what he didn’t yet have the words to describe. He might not be able to tell her what was in his heart, but he would show her in actions and deeds.
Gathering her in his arms, he slid into her deep and then retreated only to push back inside her.
Never had he felt so vulnerable, so completely unprotected, and yet it wasn’t the terrible thing he would have imagined. He found he didn’t mind trusting her with this softer side. Indeed, he wanted her to have it.