Alec Mackenzie's Art of Seduction (Mackenzies & McBrides #9)(61)

Inside the room with Celia was quiet. The fire snapped on the hearth, and the ropes that held the mattress in place creaked. Celia let out a sigh that blended with a groan, and Alec stroked her hair again.

“What do I do?” she whispered. “I feel strange … and wonderful.”

“Ye don’t have to do anything, love.” Alec’s hand drifted down her back. “Ye can do all, or nothing. That’s the beauty of loving.”

“It’s not what I thought it would be.”

Alec grinned. “It never is.”

He gradually raised her until she was straddling him, on her knees. Celia’s eyes widened again, another new sensation flooding her.

Alec lifted his hips, sliding deeper into her. Making love in this position was always a challenge but his reward was Celia swaying on him, a cry issuing from her throat as she relaxed onto him.

Her long braid snaked down to him, smooth against his side. Celia rocked on him, letting out another cry, her fingers biting his chest. Her breasts moved, her nipples dark and tight, the beauty of her no longer hidden.

“Alec,” she whispered. “I love—”

She closed her mouth over the word, as though she hadn’t meant to let it slip out, and Alec’s self-control splintered. He drove into her, his hips coming off the bed, his own shouts blending with hers.

Celia arched back, and Alec caught her hands to steady her. He twined his fingers through hers, holding tight as she rode him, the two locked together—hands, legs, bodies.

Alec let out a growl. He clasped her around the waist and rolled them so he was on top of her. Celia looked at him in bewilderment, then her smile returned as he thrust into her.

A few quick moments, and it was done. Alec’s seed left him, but his hips continued to move, Alec wanting to stay with her, in her, she around him, forever.

Celia’s smile dissolved into soft cries of delight, which melded with his groans until their voices at last wound into silence.

Alec crashed next to Celia and pulled her close, surrendering himself to peace.



Celia lay awake for a long time, watching Alec sleep. His face was quiet, his dark red-brown hair falling into his eyes, his lips slack. Unshaved whiskers darkened his jaw but burnished red in the firelight.

Her Highlander. Celia brushed his shoulder, feeling strength beneath smooth skin. Alec was one of the barbarians who’d charged at her brother’s regiment, screaming insanely, and cut down all in their path. They’d followed Charles Stuart far into England, threatening all she knew.

And she couldn’t be afraid of him.

Alec’s eyes flickered. In the next moment, she looked into the golden depths of them, his slow smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

“All right, love?”





Chapter 20





Celia grew hot with embarrassment, remembering her unrestrained cries, but her chagrin dispersed under his gaze. She was warm and comfortable, happy in spite of it all.

She smoothed a tumbledown lock of his dark red hair. “I don’t wonder that men and women seek to take lovers. To have that …” She gave a warm shiver, remembering the sensation of him inside her, the explosive joy of her surrender.

“That’s only the beginning, love.” Alec kissed her fingers. “I have much more to teach you.”

“You do?” she asked shyly. He’d already showed her so much—first that being with a husband was nothing to fear, and second, that far from being a chore or a duty, lying with Alec had been beautiful. The pain she’d expected had slid away on a wild elation, her body taking over and doing things she’d never known it could do.

“Oh, yes.” His voice was dark. “I’ll give you all kinds of instruction, my love.”

For answer, Celia leaned and kissed him. His lips caressed hers, the kiss leisurely, his mouth hot.

“What sort of kiss is this?” she asked softly when they finished.

“The after-loving kind.” Alec smoothed her hair. “When you’re warm and open, and the world doesn’t exist beyond this bed.”

That was it exactly—nothing mattered but this, and being with him.

Before Celia could form thoughts into words, Alec kissed her again, then came down with her into the mattress, his strong body covering hers.

When he slid inside her this time, it was different—slow, enjoyable, not like the crazed wildness of an hour ago. Alec stretched out on her, his weight comforting, shielding.

Celia moved with him, groaning with him as excitement built and then surged. Alec thrust into her faster and faster, their voices joining, until they collapsed together, laughing and kissing.

Celia fell into deep slumber after that, and when she awoke, the sun was nearing its zenith, and Alec was gone.



Celia found Alec with Josette in a small dining room on the ground floor, directed there by Glenna, who helped her dress. Glenna’s smirks and innuendo kept Celia blushing furiously, as the girl brushed out her hair and wound it into a competent knot. Really, a fifteen-year-old maiden should not know so much about the marriage bed.

Alec was making his way through a plate piled high with eggs, sausages, and toast, with a slab of meat pie awaiting his attention at his elbow. As Celia entered, he looked up and smiled at her, his eyes full of wickedness.

Another blush, this one scalding her. How was she to ever be in the same house with him when every look reminded her of her wantonness? She ought to be ashamed of her behavior with him, but shame couldn’t last in the face of the deep contentment in her heart.