Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy #3)(61)

He pushed her to the brink only to let up and let the tide slowly recede. Then he’d work her back up again, each time more intense than the last.

He left her panting for breath and so tense that her muscles ached. She begged for him to stop and then for him never to stop. Her hoarse pleas rose, each one making less sense than the last.

Then his mouth left her and he fitted his c**k to her opening and slid deep in one forceful lunge. His body blanketed hers, warming her to the bone. Never had she felt quite so safe, like nothing could ever hurt her.

He was inside her, not just physically, but in her heart and soul. He was all she could think of, all she could see and hear. He’d spoken of her carrying their future, but he was her future. He was all she wanted. All she needed.

There was no sign of her rough, possessive lover this night. The man who’d so ruthlessly taken her so many nights past had been replaced by a gentle warrior who treated her as though she were infinitely fragile, a priceless treasure to be cherished above all else.

He held her to him and stroked back and forth, gliding effortlessly through her damp heat. Through it all, his mouth never left her flesh. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, and then he nuzzled down to her ear and below to her neck.

Never had she been so thoroughly worshipped by a man, not even by her husband till now. He’d loved her, aye. He’d loved her as well as a man could ever love a wife, but there was a marked difference this night.

Tonight … ’twas as if he loved her with his heart instead of just his body. Tonight, she loved him not just with her body, but with her very soul.

When she cried out with her release, he held her against him, not taking his own until he’d seen to her pleasure. Then and only then did he thrust deep and empty himself into her depths.

Afterward, she snuggled into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. He was hard and sticky between her thighs, but she cared not. She didn’t want to separate herself from him for the time it would take to cleanse them both.

She held him close until his breathing became deep and even. He was wholly relaxed against her, limp and sated and so very warm.

She sighed and stroked a hand over his shoulder, knowing he was already asleep.

“I love you, husband. ’Tis the truth I never expected to give you my heart. I know not if it’s even what you want from me, but ’tis yours all the same. Someday … Someday I’ll have yours in return,” she whispered against his skin.

She closed her eyes and settled against him, fatigue sliding over her skin like a blanket. Within moments she, too, slept.

Caelen lay in the dark, his arms tight around Rionna as she slept. Her words echoed in his ears, playing over and over again until he knew they were no trick of his hearing.

His wife loved him. He knew not what to make of this development. He’d loved before and it had come to no good and yet he knew that love existed. He’d seen it between his brothers and their wives. He knew his brothers loved their women with a ferocity uncommon to most marriages.

Love required sacrifice. It required trust and faith. It required making yourself completely vulnerable to the one you loved.

The thought sent a knot deep into his belly.

The last time he’d offered a woman his complete trust and faith, she’d destroyed his clan.

CHAPTER 26

When Rionna woke the next morning, it was early still and the only light in the chamber came from the hearth and one lone candle on the wooden desk that housed Caelen’s personal belongings. He sat in silence, quill in hand as he scratched ink onto one of his scrolls.

She watched, fascinated by the image he presented. His brow was creased in concentration and every once in awhile he dipped the quill back into the inkwell and then went back to his writings.

’Twas the first time she’d seen him using the scrolls, but now she wondered if he did so every morn before she woke. So many times she’d awakened to him sliding deep into her body, but perhaps he tended to personal matters first.

She lay still, waiting for him to come to her, and took the opportunity to study her husband in secret.

He was such a handsome man. He had a ruggedness that appealed to every one of her feminine instincts. Strong. Scarred, not perfect. Perhaps that would be a strike against him with another woman, but not Rionna. Her warrior’s heart embraced each mark as a badge of honor.

There was a slight ridge on his nose that suggested it had been broken in the past. But his face was otherwise unblemished, chiseled by strong cheekbones and a firm jaw. His pale green eyes mesmerized her. They were an odd shade shared by his two brothers, and Rionna imagined her own babe with the same green eyes.

A lass with her father’s dark hair and beautiful eyes. Rionna would need all of her fighting skills to keep the warriors from her daughter’s doorstep.

She held her breath when Caelen put away his quill and carefully rolled the scroll closed. He stood and walked quietly over to the bed. Her entire body tingled in anticipation of his possession.

But instead of grasping her hips and pulling her to the edge of the bed, he leaned down and brushed his lips across her forehead, letting them linger just a moment before he backed away and silently left the room.

She stared after him, mystified and … disappointed. Her entire body was on edge. A pulsing ache had begun deep at her center and now her husband was gone and she was lying, staring at the ceiling.

She let out a sigh and turned on her side to stare into the fire. Her gaze skirted over the writing table and the scrolls lying neatly to the side. What was it that Caelen wrote when he was alone with his thoughts?