Iain stood with his back toward the door. He pulled out a scroll from the organized shelves, pushed it back in, and retrieved another, sliding it from the cubby where it had been stacked. He turned, his chestnut hair flowing like a silken waterfall over one shoulder.
“Isa.” A warm smile softened features that had been hardened in concentration. He rested the tied parchment behind an obsidian weight on the worktable and closed the distance, embracing me. I purred with contentment. Wrapped in his arms had become my new addiction—one I craved throughout the day . . . where I enveloped myself at night.
“What are you working on?” I peered around his shoulder. Several large maps were layered over the tall surface. Iain glanced back, shrugging.
He kissed the top of my head. “Doona be concerned with my dabblin’. ’Tis late. I want my bed warmed with you, woman.”
Beyond him, the wall came alive. The surface rippled in gentle vibration, beckoning my touch. Its compelling magnetism pulled at me, even with Iain between us. The sparkling gray stone shimmered, its celestial spider web of lights pulsing brighter and brighter the longer I watched. Iain glanced back to see what held me transfixed.
I opened my mouth, the question hanging on my lips. He turned back to me, placed his hands on my shoulders, and spun me right out the door.
“Bed. Now.”
His dominant command left no room for negotiation. My thumping heart and hungry body overrode brain function with the most basic Pavlovian response, and I obeyed the order without hesitation.
We raced up the stairs, bursting into a darkened room where all my erotic fantasies had become a phenomenal reality. From the beginning of our marriage, we’d shared his well-appointed bedchamber and sumptuous bed. Every little thing he’d done from the instant we united proved how much he wanted me to be a part of his life and belong in his world.
The door slammed shut. I loosened the bindings of my bodice, and Iain stripped the clothes from his body. His gaze torched pure lust my way as my dress and chemise fell to the floor. The few feet between us vanished as our bodies crushed together, arms wrapping around each other, his lips consuming every inch of my heated flesh. Iain’s touch became my body’s every command as slick moisture pooled between my thighs, readying for his invasion.
Iain broke contact, pulling away. Wild-eyed with a devilish smirk, he backed onto the bed, slowly lying back, the proud display of his manhood saluting the ceiling in tribute to me.
“Come to me, my beauty. Wrap those devastatin’ lips around me.”
I grinned. Iain loved the way I took him in my mouth. The intimate act had become my favorite foreplay. Lack of experience had been quickly overcome by my eagerness to learn, his enthusiasm to teach, and my innate desire to excel at everything—especially pleasing him.
In slow seduction, I crawled onto the bed, my breasts gently swaying between my arms, hips rolling from side to side. Iain propped his head up on folded arms, watching me intently. Dropping my body low, I kissed from the inside of his ankle up to his knee, brushing my hands along the outside of his legs in long strokes as I slinked forward. A drag of my lips high on his inner thigh pulled a low moan from him. I licked my lips, pressed them to his tip, and sucked past the tight pressure I’d created, pulling him partially into my mouth. A growl shredded from his throat, resounding off the walls.
I smiled, proud of the sound I’d caused. The tip of my tongue swirled around his ridge while I gripped my hand hard around the shaft. I teased lovingly, licking him in calculated torture.
A battle ensued between how long I could pleasure him and how long I could resist having more. My motions mimicked what I wanted my body to be doing—taking him deep inside me.
I marveled over how soft and supple skin could be stretched so tight over rigid muscle. His thick length twitched in my hand. My body clenched in response, the instrument obeying her maestro. Iain moaned low, grasping the sheets in his fists. On a slow descent, I sucked him completely inside and swallowed hard around him.
His hands gripped my forearms, signaling an end to the appetizer and motioning for the main course to come at once. He jerked me roughly up his body, spreading my legs with his knees. I tumbled astride him, crushed down by his arms to accept his hungry kiss. Iain arched his hips up, and I pressed mine down. A perfect connection was made as he impaled me. My heart stuttered in sublime pleasure, Iain filling me in every possible way.
Awash in amber glow from our hearth’s fire, Iain’s features grew fierce as they pulled tight in passion. His brows were drawn down, his pupils blown wide, and his hair fanned over the pillow as if a strong headwind had thrown it back. He bucked his hips as I pushed myself up, bracing my hands on his chest.
A hot ache tightened within me as I raised and dropped in time with his erotic rhythm. I groaned, tossing my head back, the pressure building to near unbearable. Suddenly, a live wire snapped through my body, and I gasped as it sparked and twisted, setting me ablaze. I distantly heard myself scream Iain’s name. His incredible stamina continued, carrying us farther, drawing out every delicious spasm.
Iain’s strong hands clutched my hips harder as his face creased with exertion. Desire spiraled higher with every stroke. Nerves sizzled with every touch. The force of our impacts echoed into the room, our sweet, musky scent permeating the air. Every sense sharpened as I floated—a sparkle of dust aloft in a moonbeam. Weightless. Suspended.
The power of the rush swept me away, and I screamed. On a final thrust, Iain roared as he joined me in release. I collapsed onto his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me. Our hearts beat in rapid staccato against one another as his hot breath feathered across my cheek. In silence, we labored to catch our breath. Finally, I sighed.
“Isa?”
His voice gentled so soon after his feral growls made me smile. Our peaceful companionship before drifting to sleep had become a cherished ritual as we shared random thoughts and favorite things. The nightcap to our wild sex had become a slumber party of sorts, filled with stories from childhoods or dreams of our future.
The fragile threads of intimacy had woven into strong bonds as we learned that despite our vast differences, we shared the same principles and beliefs about life and family. We both believed in God, but only tended to talk to the Big Guy on a need-to-pray basis. When we dreamed of children, we wanted at least a boy and a girl, but weren’t opposed to more.
Talking with Iain felt as easy and comfortable as a worn pair of jeans. The modern-day Californian in him enabled his effortless shift into the vernacular I’d come to miss amid all the heavy brogue and Gaelic.
“Feel okay?” He tipped my chin up with his finger, kissing my lips tenderly.
My smile broke our lip-lock. “I feel amazing.”
Iain gently rolled us over, separating us. A rush of cool air hit my damp skin as he draped a bent leg over mine. He propped an arm under his head, smoothing a free hand down between my breasts, laying it to rest across my belly. Firelight cast his ruggedly handsome face in ever-changing glows and shadows as he gazed deep into my eyes.
“Do you feel like you could be with child?” The slight raise of his eyebrows melted my heart. I wondered if he’d overheard Agnes’s bawdy comments, or if he’d thought about the subject on his own.
I placed my hand over his, lacing our fingers together, and kissed his lips. “I don’t feel any different. But . . . I suppose I could be.”
Even though we’d talked of children, the thought of actually becoming pregnant had never entered my mind. Of course, I understood how the whole concept worked, but in the whirlwind that my life had become, I hadn’t yet given it serious thought.