by Amy Sandas
With a growl of hunger, he lowered his head to trail wet, hot kisses down her neck as he loosened the ties of her nightgown. A moment after the air touched her uncovered breasts, he took one peak deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue over her nipple.
When he lifted his head to shift to the other breast, he murmured against her flushed skin, “These last days have been heaven and hell. Having you close yet being unable to touch you...to take you,” he added roughly with a thrust of his hips that pressed his hard length to the sweetly aching juncture of her thighs.
And Moira was lost.
***
Need shook Braden to the very marrow of his bones. Longing rolled unheeded through him along with something deeper and more profound.
With his pulse thundering in his ears, he grasped a fistful of the voluminous cotton tangled about her stunning body and swept it up over her head. After taking her mouth in a deep and drugging kiss, he pulled away long enough to remove his trousers, desperately needing to feel her skin against his.
Then he settled between her spread thighs, his chest crushing her soft breasts, his smooth head poised at her entrance as he took her mouth like a man starved. His breath mixed with hers while his tongue thrust deep and his teeth scraped unheeded.
Though he wanted to plunge into her hot sheath in one fierce thrust of his hips, he forced himself to go slow, to ease her body back into accepting him.
He had just the tip of his thick erection inside her when she issued a short sound of frustration and reached around him to grasp his buttocks, curling her fingernails into his skin as she lifted her hips toward him. The urgency of her touch sent a sharp tingle of pleasure down his spine.
With a heavy groan, he pressed his open mouth to the side of her throat where her pulse fluttered against his tongue. Then he dove into her slick heat with one demanding thrust. Her gasp of shock at the fierceness of his possession slid into a throaty moan as he gave a deep circle of his hips before withdrawing and claiming once again.
She held tight to him, arching her back and rocking her hips up to meet the powerful rhythm of his plunging strokes.
The passion of her response swept him up as the pleasure rose thick in his blood. He was already on the verge of release. Clenching his teeth, he held back. Bracing himself on his elbows, he looked down at his bride.
Her face was flushed, her jaw tense, and her full lips parted for her ragged breath.
Her eyes were closed.
A fierce rush of frustration rose inside him. He wanted more than her passion. He wanted her trust, her vulnerability, her heart.
With a harsh growl, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled to his back, pulling her with him to settle astride his hips, his cock still buried deep within her.
Her eyes flew open in surprise as she pressed her palms to his chest to steady herself in the unfamiliar position. “What are you doing?” Despite her confusion, her green gaze was dark with fathomless desire.
The sight of it sent a shock of pleasure through Braden. He held her gaze, intently demanding the intimacy of her unshielded response. Grasping her hips in his hands, he held her steady above him as he rocked his length inside her.
“I want you to see me, Moira. See me beneath you as you feel me inside you. I need your eyes on me.”
The flutter of her lashes and the tensing of her belly and thighs preceded a silky moan as she curved her hips to better receive his upward thrusts. And though her eyelids were heavy and something far more intense than desire swirled within her lush, mysterious gaze, she did not close her eyes.
“Yes, love,” Braden murmured, “just like that. Take what you want from me.”
It was not long before she discovered a rhythm of her own as she lifted and lowered herself along his length. Though Braden held fast to her hips, he released all control to her. It was easy. It was perfect.
Her dark hair was a wild tangle about her shoulders, her breasts bounced, and her skin glowed in the firelight. The way she moved drew upon every strand of pleasure woven through his body, pulling it tight until his balls ached and his cock throbbed for release. But her eyes held him steady and filled him with the strength he needed to wait for her to claim her own pleasure.
And she was so close. Her fingernails curled into the muscles of his chest, sweat glistened on her smooth skin, and her bottom lip was held fast between her teeth.
Only then did her focus flicker as a frown tugged at her brows and her thighs trembled.
“Braden,” she gasped in a pleading tone. “I canna... Please...”
With a flash of understanding, he reached for her, drawing her down to his chest as he rolled them over again.
This time, he rose up to his knees, lifting her hips against him as he continued a slow, deep thrust into her heated, swollen sheath.
“Look at me.” She did. Her eyes stark and needful.
He withdrew from her in a long glide, reveling in the grasp of her inner muscles along his length. When he plunged forward again, he tilted the angle to better access the sensitive flesh deep inside her.
She gasped and moaned, but she continued to hold his gaze. A few more thrusts like that and she was gripping the sheets in tight fists, her back arching and her breasts trembling. Braden had to bite his own lip to keep himself in check.
“Now, reach between your legs, sweetheart,” he said gruffly. “I want to see you touch yourself.”
Her eyes flashed but she did not hesitate to lower her hand to where they were joined. Her initial tentative exploration of her fingertips brought a breathlessness to her face that was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But as she circled the needful peak of her sex, her expression became fierce with need.
“That’s it,” Braden encouraged through clenched teeth as the throbbing, sweet ache of impending release pushed up through his body. “The pleasure is yours, love. Take it.”
Her gaze flickered and her lips parted to draw harsh breaths as her hand moved more swiftly. Then her body tensed. Her eyes widened and his name slid from her throat in a velvet moan.
Her inner muscles squeezed around him in a pulsing caress as she claimed her orgasm.
Though his body shook with the need to come, he stayed with her as long as he could, thrusting gently to prolong her pleasure until her hand fell limp to the bed. He barely managed to pull free of her before the first pulse of his release lashed across her flushed skin.
Her lovely penetrating gaze didn’t leave his until he’d spent himself completely.
Chapter Eleven
Moira’s heart was well and truly lost. There was no going back after this.
And oddly, she felt...relieved to finally be free of the constant effort to hold back everything she felt for her husband. She wanted to stay the night in his bed and awake in his arms. She wanted to share all her secrets and fears with him through whispers in the dark. She wanted to embrace each day they had together without worrying about when it would all end.
She had to hold back a smile of satisfaction as Braden wiped his seed from her belly. But he did not return to the bed afterward as he usually did.
It was only then that she realized this night had not only been different for her. He had possessed a new intensity as well. With a stab of trepidation, she suddenly worried what that meant.
Sitting up in his bed, she found him half standing, half sitting on the arm of one of the chairs placed before the fire. He hadn’t bothered to dress. His arms were crossed over his broad, muscled chest and he was watching her. With the flames behind him, his face was mostly in shadow so she could not discern his mood.
But she could sense his tension. A tight, choking feeling filled her chest.
Had he decided he was tired of their arrangement just when she’d committed to it fully?
Was he about to tell her he wished to return to London...without her?
Gathering the bedsheet around her, she wrapped her arms around her bent legs, pulling them in toward her chest, shielding her
heart.
At her change in position, a low sound slid from his throat. The muscles in his arms and torso tensed. “Moira...” he began slowly as though trying to choose his words carefully.
Though she could appreciate his care, on a deeper level, she knew she couldn’t take his compassion just now. “Please, doona say it,” she interrupted in a murmured plea.
He tilted his head. “You think you know what I’m going to say?”
Though tears pricked at her eyelids, she straightened her shoulders. “Aye, and I doona need to hear the words. I knew you couldna stay at Dunnwood a full year. I dinna expect you ta stay as long as you did.”
He was silent for a long moment before he asked in a voice so low she almost didn’t hear it, “Do you want me to leave, Moira?”
Nay.
She wanted to shout it. She bit her lip instead and hated herself for it. Would her pride and fear keep her from even trying to claim what she wanted so badly?
Only if she allowed it to.
Lifting her chin, she looked back at him and wished she could better see his face as she replied. “I doona.”
His sigh was heavy and deep and his shoulders bowed as his chin dropped toward his chest, but she wasn’t sure if it was an indication of his regret or relief at her answer.
“I know you never wanted this,” he said as he lifted his head again. His voice was rougher and deeper than she’d ever heard it. The sound went straight to her aching heart. “I know you brought me here because of a superstitious belief that our marriage would bring good fortune.”
How did he know that?
Her breath shortened as he started toward her. “You don’t trust me and I can imagine why,” he continued. “My past behavior hasn’t shown me to be a man committed to his responsibilities.”
He reached the bedside and extended his hand to her in an offer to help her rise.
With her heart thundering against her ribs, Moira tugged at the bedsheet to pull it around her body as she swung her feet to the floor. With one hand holding the sheet tight to her breast, she slid her other hand into his and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
As his fingertips moved in gentle circles over the pulse at her wrist, his gaze moved intently over her face. With the firelight no longer behind him, she could finally see the uncharacteristically serious nature of his expression and the pure emotion swirling in the depths of his blue-gold eyes.
“I’d like to stay,” he said simply. “But I’m finished with compromising. I want a lifetime with you, Moira. And if I have to spend every remaining day of our handfasting proving to you that we belong together, that’s what I’ll do.”
Moira had no idea how she managed to remain upright as the meaning of his words sank in. He wanted to stay with her? He wanted to make their marriage official? “Why?” she whispered incredulously.
His brows furrowed as he tilted his head toward her. “Because I’ve fallen so deep in love with you I cannot imagine returning to any kind of existence where you’re not beside me.”
Moira stared in stunned surprise as every hazy childhood dream she’d had of her future came into bright and beautiful focus and the ache in her heart eased to a warm glow of happiness that spread through her body.
Lifting his hand, he gently brushed a tangled lock of her hair behind her ear. “Say something,” he urged quietly.
“I’m a wretched coward,” she replied. When his brow dipped in confusion, she rushed to confess every bit of her regret. “The moment I left your house in London, I understood what I risked in binding myself to you. But I thought I was just stubborn enough to avoid having my heart broken by the brazen rogue I’d been promised to.”
He made a sound of frustration as he pulled her into his arms, enfolding her in an embrace that made her insides melt and belly tighten. One of his large hands cupped the back of her head, while the other smoothed up and down her spine. His head lowered beside hers and he murmured thickly, “I won’t break your heart, I swear it.”
Turning his head, he pressed a soft kiss to the outer curve of her ear, then another to her temple, then the crest of her cheek and the undercurve of her jaw and the corner of her mouth. “I can understand if you don’t believe me. I’m just asking for the chance to prove it to you.”
“Braden...” she murmured, then promptly forgot what she was going to say when his lips trailed down the line of her throat. The sharp nip of his teeth on the muscle that curved toward her shoulder nearly caused her legs to give way beneath her.
“Let me show you what you mean to me. Allow me to be the husband you deserve,” he muttered warmly against her skin as he tugged the sheet from her body. “I swear I won’t stop until you love me as I love you.”
The bedsheet fell away and Moira trembled as her skin came into heated contact with his. She wrapped her arms around him and fought to reclaim her voice enough to tell him she was already madly in love with him. But then he lifted her in his arms and covered her breast with his mouth before toppling them both back onto the bed and any chance at speaking was lost.
If this was how he planned to convince her of his love and devotion, it might not hurt to wait a wee bit before telling him she was already his, now and forever.
Epilogue
One Year Later
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?’ Count Leander Vittori asked with a sly grin. “There’s still time to flee back to London.”
Braden didn’t even pause in his rapid pacing as he tossed a forbidding frown toward one of his oldest friends. Vittori, once a notorious rake, continued to smile back at him from where he lounged in an overstuffed armchair set before a roaring fireplace.
The fire was the only thing keeping the chill of the highland storm raging outside from permeating the dense atmosphere of Braden’s study, but at the moment, it felt too warm, too suffocating. Braden tugged at his neckcloth before shrugging free of his coat and tossing it aside as he continued his well-trod path back and forth across the room.
“You might want to leave off prodding the man just now,” the Marquess of Granville, another of Braden’s closest friends, warned Vittori in a dry tone. “Don’t forget, you’re next.”
Granville’s dark words had the desired effect as Vittori paled at the reminder and kept his mouth blessedly shut.
Lord Allerton, the fourth in their set of former rakes and scoundrels, shook his head with a chuckle. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. I made it through just fine.”
“That’s because you were sodding drunk,” Braden retorted as he glanced at the clock for the twentieth time that hour.
“Exactly,” Allerton exclaimed. “Why aren’t you?”
Braden glanced at the glass of scotch Granville had poured for him some time ago. It sat untouched on the corner of his desk. The truth was, even if the night had been torturous beyond anything he’d ever known, he didn’t want to miss a moment of it.
The sound of a familiar foot tread reached his ears and he froze in place, staring at the open doorway.
Nan appeared a moment later. Her weathered face was spread wide with a toothless grin as she approached him with an astoundingly noisy bundle in her arms. Without waiting for him to prepare himself or even take his next breath, she passed the tiny babe into his hands. “You’ve a healthy wee lass.”
With shock and fear and more love than he could fathom, Braden noted a thick thatch of feathery black hair surrounding pert and delicate features. His daughter was currently wailing her displeasure with a wide-open mouth and a scrunched-up face. The fear took over for a moment as he wondered what the hell he was supposed to do with such a tiny creature.
Then he brushed the tip of his finger over the curve of her soft red cheek and she started to calm.
Looking back to Nan, Braden swallowed past the thickness in his throat to ask, “Moira?”
Nan nodded. “She’s fine and well. After feeding the wee one, she fell asleep. I’ll fetch you when she wakes,” the old woman added as she
turned to leave.
“Wait,” Braden said as panic swept through him. “You’re just going to leave the babe with me?”
“Ach, now, wot safer place than her da’s arms?” Nan replied with a dismissive wave as she continued from the room.
Stunned and uncertain, Braden glanced around the room, noting that his friends—formerly devoted to hedonism and debauchery in all forms—had all risen solemnly to their feet.
As the men crowded in to gaze down at the tiny new being, she gave a healthy yawn and opened her bright blue eyes. Almost as if she could feel the pride and love surrounding her, the baby girl’s bow-shaped lips widened in a smile that revealed a charming little dimple in her left cheek.
Also by Amy Sandas
Reformed Rakes Novella
Wicked
Dangerous
Brazen
Regency Rogues
Rogue Countess
Reckless Viscount
Rebel Marquess
Relentless Lord
Watch for more at Amy Sandas’s site.
About the Author
Amy grew up in a small dairy town in northern Wisconsin and after earning a Liberal Arts degree from the University of Minnesota – Twin Cities, she eventually made her way back to Wisconsin (though to a slightly larger town) and lives there with her husband and three children. She spends her early mornings writing before heading off to her day job. The rest of her time is spent trying to keep up with the kids and squeeze in some stolen moments with her husband.
Read more at Amy Sandas’s site.
