Taming the Scot by Eliza Knight
14
Euan had hailed a hackney back to his house and hadn’t let go of Bronwen’s hand the entire ride. But once they’d stepped through the doors, she’d sailed up the stairs to her bedroom, leaving him to take care of a few other details, such as sending a footman back to inform his sisters of what had happened and that they should feel free to stay at the ball under the guidance of Jaime and Giselle. He’d also directed a footman to locate a magistrate, giving him the exact location of the downed men in the hope they might still find them there.
In his haste to get Bronwen to safety, he’d not thought of having the men apprehended.
With those details settled, he went in search of Bronwen. He needed to make sure she was all right. She’d barely spoken two words in the hackney, but her fingers had been cold, and she’d shuddered every so often beside him. She must have had the fright of her life before those arseholes had cornered her in the alleyway. Thank God he’d found her when he did; else, he wasn’t sure what he would have come upon—only that it would have been a nightmare to them both.
His knock at her door went unanswered, and he feared she’d already packed her things and run away. He pressed his forehead to the wood panels, closed his eyes and called out her name. “Bronwen. Please answer.”
A second later, the door wrenched open, and there she stood, pale, her hair unraveling down her back. She was still in her gown but judging from how it slouched against her shoulders, she’d made a valiant attempt to get the damn thing off.
Out of his periphery, he could see that her bed was piled with her belongings, her satchel open wide. Nay, nay, nay. She couldn’t leave.
“Please do no’ go,” he said, gaze back on her, imploring. Why did it feel as if his body was being wrenched in half? “Running is no’ going to solve anything between us or your past.”
“It will keep me safe. And ye and your sisters.”
“I can do that too. Did I no’ prove it tonight?”
The column of her delicate throat bobbed. “But your sisters, their possible matches…”
“No man would dare turn away one of my sisters because of who I married, and if they did, then they would no’ be worthy of her love or my respect.” Euan couldn’t hold back. He reached for her hand, encircling her slim, calloused gloveless fingers. “I love ye, Bronwen. With all my heart. And I ask ye again to be my wife.”
“But—”
He shook his head. “Nay, love. No buts.” With her gray eyes growing teary again, he kept his serious stare locked on her. “Do ye want to spend your life with me?”
She bit her lip and then nodded. “Aye, verra much. I can no’ tell ye how much I’ve longed to hear the words. How much my heart yearns for yours. How much it hurt to run. Ye saw those men. How can I risk them coming here, harming your sisters?”
“I know ye’re scared, and I promised ye protection. I almost failed in that tonight. I swear, love, I will see they are punished.”
“That’s no’ all. My parents’ debts. I can no’ put that on ye. And I do no’ want to be the downfall of ye or your sisters. How will they ever marry with me in the picture?”
He smiled and tugged her against him, pressing her head to his heart, exactly where she belonged. “Do no’ worry over such. I’ve plenty of coin, and my sisters will be fine. We will be just fine. Ye lift us up, my love, as ye have from the moment ye arrived.”
“Oh, Euan. I love ye so much.” Her fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket as she clung to him.
The words he’d craved fell off her tongue in a sweet, soothing caress. “Och, I love ye more.”
He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her flush to him, and bent to kiss her, capturing her mouth in what was at first a gentle kiss but which quickly consumed him. He needed to convey in this one kiss all that he felt, wanted. A promise of the future, of love and pleasure. He swept his tongue across her bottom lip, teasing the flesh there. Timidly, she parted her lips, her tongue caressing the corner of his mouth. He groaned deep in his throat, returning the tease with his own. She tasted of the punch they’d drank earlier and something sweeter, spicier. Something that was all her. Bronwen moaned and opened her lips for him, beckoning Euan to deepen the kiss.
To take all that she offered and more—to show her how much he needed her, wanted her.
Cupping a hand against her cheek, Euan threaded his fingers through her locks. Her hair was softer than silk, and the scent of flowers and Bronwen’s own aura enveloped him. She leaned into his touch and then reached up to explore his hair too. Her fingers ran deliciously through his hair, somehow feeling even more intimate than a kiss. To be able to hold the woman he loved like this, when an hour before he’d been afraid of losing her.
Her head fell to the side, leaving her delicate neck exposed fully for his roving mouth to explore. As he kissed the place where her pulse leapt, her breath came in little pants. God, he loved that sound. He traced his fingers over the gooseflesh that rose along her arms, wanting to lift her and crush her body to his and never let go.
“Oh,” she sighed as his lips traversed the length of her neck to tease behind her ear. A little moan of pleasure escaped her and sent tremors of sharp need careening through his body.
This touch, this kiss, was almost too good to be true. She’d said she loved him. That meant she was his, did it no’?
“I want to spend every day for the rest of our lives worshipping ye.” He nibbled on her collarbone while his fingers traced the outline of her petite, pert breasts.
He rubbed a thumb over her hardened nipple and nearly lost his sense of control when she mewled with delicious pleasure, her back arching.
“Let me love ye,” he crooned. “I beg ye.”
“Aye, love me,” she crooned against his ear as she came up to kiss the spot, mimicking his earlier movement.
Dear God, if he could hear her say that over and over again... Her ardor was like a potent remedy, putting him into a daze of frenzied desire.
“I want to see ye…” he murmured. Her gown was already falling off her shoulders, and with a few flicks of his fingers, he had the fabric sliding down her arms. Through the sheer chemise, he could make out the creamy swell of her rosy-tipped breasts. Flawless. With a finger, he tugged the fabric low until one of her breasts popped free, and she gasped.
Her trusting gaze met his with a question.
“Ye’re beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so glorious in my life as your perfect breasts.”
Bronwen laughed at that, making a move to cover herself—he suspected out of a little embarrassment—but he stayed her movements with his hand. He cupped her bare breast, marveling at the soft silk of her skin, the warmth of it. With a fingertip, he caressed the underside of her breast until he couldn’t take it any longer, and he swept in to take a delectable nipple between his lips.
Bronwen gasped, her fingers curling back into his hair.
Blood pooled in Euan’s groin as desire flooded him, shoving reason aside. The need to push into her slick folds was intense and growing. Continuing his attentions on her breasts with his mouth, he slowly massaged her hip, desperately wanting to bring her to the bed or sink to the floor. Or even the small settee or window seat. Anywhere they could entwine their bodies together.
He opened his eyes to stare into her eyes, cloudy gray storms filling with intense passion. “Bronwen?” he asked.
“Aye?”
He lowered his gaze to her pouty lips and deliberately descended his mouth to hers. Her lips were warm, plush and moist. He kissed her softly at first, enjoying the feel of her against him, never wanting this moment to end. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. Bronwen’s lips were rosy and swollen from their kiss, and she gazed at him with a far-off look.
“Say ye want to be my wife,” he begged. “I need to hear ye say the words.”
“I want to be your wife, Euan.”
Lord, how he loved her, and he’d almost lost her too. If he’d not been able to catch her in the alleyway, there was no telling what those thugs would have done to her. Taken her…killed her. The memory of coming up upon them and seeing them hovering over her, violent intent in every line of their bodies, sent a chilly wave of dread rushing through him.
His breathing quickened as a fire kindled in every part of his body, fueled by love and the sensation of her mouth on his.
If the sensations cascading through her every limb with his kiss could be equal or greater when they made love—for surely, that was where they were headed—then Bronwen couldn’t wait to be Euan’s in body as well as soul. Heat suffused her face at such thoughts, but how could she help it when his hand was on her breast, when his tongue had been there moments before? And the feelings that whipped through her…she was lucky to be still standing at all.
Hadn’t she been waiting for Euan to touch her since the very first kiss they’d shared?
“I want to make love to ye,” Euan crooned. His blue eyes had deepened to sapphire, and his husky voice filled with desire stoked a place between her thighs she’d barely paid attention to all of her life.
“I want ye to,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around him and leaned up to kiss him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth, in case he wasn’t sure she meant it.
Euan scooped her up, her gown tumbling the rest of the way down and crumpling somewhere on the floor behind them as he carried her to the bed. He laid her gently on the coverlet and then covered her body with his.
She gasped at the length of his arousal pressed to her belly, certain that was what it was. She shifted beneath him, bringing a leg up to his hip. His body settled between hers, and she gasped at the more intimate contact. Euan groaned, stirred by the feeling too.
Bronwen stared into his heavily lidded eyes. All the tension bubbling up inside Bronwen seemed to swell in this one moment. She trailed a finger along his jaw, memorizing each curve of his striking face. His eyes sparkled, and his golden hair fell roguishly on his forehead.
“I can’t believe ye’re mine,” she whispered.
He reached up and grasped her hand in his. Dragging her palm to his lips, he kissed it, sending a shiver of awareness through her belly and to her center.
“Forever, my love.”
She moved beneath him again, wanting to be closer. The hem of her chemise rose, exposing the skin of her legs all the way up to mid-thigh. His face twisted with desire. Before she had a chance to shift again, he gripped her bare calf at his hip and held her still.
“No more, or this will be over before it's truly begun.” His lips captured hers for a demanding, possessive kiss.
Her breath caught in her throat as she hungrily kissed him back, arms winding around his shoulders. She wanted to rip off her chemise, remove his kilt and shirt. Her nipples were taut, and she arched her back, pressing her chest against his, aching for more. When his hand slid up her ribs to caress her breasts, she realized that had been what she craved. His thumb stroked over the puckered tip, and a moan escaped her.
Everything felt right, perfect.
With his arms curled around her, she was flush to his chest. His lips traced hers gently before deepening the kiss. Every inch of her awakened to some slice of heaven they created together. Shivers of desire raced through her limbs, culminating between her thighs, begging for more of his touch.
She lifted her hips again, and he groaned low in his throat.
“Lass…” His eyes were hooded, clouded with passion.
She traced a finger along his lips until he opened his mouth and nibbled the tip before sucking the digit inside. The inside of his mouth was decadent sin against her skin, and she whimpered at the wicked sensation.
He trailed kisses from her neck to the tops of her breasts, hovering there as he met her gaze.
“Can I take this off?” he asked, plucking at the fabric of her chemise.
Bronwen nodded, and he slid the thin muslin from her body and tossed it to the floor. She lay there, bare except for her garters and stockings, but she wasn’t nervous—quite the opposite. Euan’s hungry gaze devoured her, and he bit his lip in a way that suggested he was having a hard time holding himself back from consuming her completely. That look, and the thoughts it brought, heightened her arousal. Her nipples peaked, aching to feel the velvet of his tongue, and between her thighs, a delicious little pulse started.
She didn’t have to wait long as he swooped down and took a pink bud between his lips.
“Oh,” she sighed, arching her back and threading her fingers in his hair.
He kneaded her other breast, his thumb teasing the nipple, and then leisurely, he skimmed his hand along her rib cage, over her hip, to her thighs. Her legs started to tremble, and the place between her thighs quickened all the more. She bowed into him, urging his exploration forward, wanting something she didn’t understand.
Euan let out a low chuckle. “Miss Holmes is an impatient lass.”
She gazed at him, where his chin rested on her belly, his blue eyes dancing with humor and desire. “The captain is of a mind to torment me.”
Then she grinned. “Ye’ve seen me. Let me see ye.”
Euan sucked in a deep breath and then pushed off the bed. Bronwen’s cheeks grew warm, and her breaths came a little quicker as he shed his kilt, shirt, hose and shoes with deliberate intent. His chest was broad, a sprinkle of golden hair dusted the muscular expanse. Ripples of corded sinew led down his abdomen to his rigid arousal, jutting forward and setting off something primal inside her.
His physique was perfectly sculpted, as the marble statues had been in the museum she’d snuck into. “Ye could have been carved from marble.”
“But thank God I’m flesh and bone.” Euan glided the length of his naked body along hers, the tip of his erection pressing between her thighs.
A shot of exquisite pleasure pulsated her insides, and she squirmed, wanting to feel more of him against her. My God… Euan captured her lips with his as his hand danced a breathtaking trail to the crux of her thighs. He caressed the little bud of her pleasure until she writhed and then slipped his fingers between her folds and sank deep inside her. Nothing before had felt so wonderful, intoxicating. Bronwen arched her back, moaning as waves of pleasure wrapped their way around her. He continued his ministrations of torment. Stroking, plunging until she felt she was on the very tip of something massive, and that if she just reached it…
“Does it feel good, love?” he asked.
A barely audible “Aye” was all she could manage.
He nuzzled her breasts, teasing her nipples as his fingers drove her nether parts wild and this time—thank heavens—he didn’t stop. An explosion of the most ethereal sensations cascaded through her, making her heart skip a beat. She cried out in surprise pleasure. But it didn’t end there; it pulsed and pulsed in an undulating wave, rippling through her body.
“Oh, God, Bronwen. I have to have ye now.”
She nodded, unable to speak, but knowing whatever it was that he wanted, she wanted it too.
Euan spread her legs wide and settled between her thighs. His thick arousal slid between her folds. He came down on her, his chest pressed to hers, his mouth demanding a heated kiss. And as she acquiesced, he gripped her buttocks with one hand and his shaft with the other, and then he plunged inside. He stilled for a moment when a muffled cry escaped her. But the pain didn’t last long, and as he kissed her and shifted his hand between their bodies to stroke that fiery nub again, it disappeared completely, leaving her only with the desire for more pleasure. She tilted her pelvis to allow him to sink in more fully.
“Are ye all right?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”
“Nay…” she sighed. “It feels so good.”
“Och, good, lass, verra good.”
He grasped her hands in his and placed them above her head as he moved slowly in and out. Bronwen wrapped her legs higher around his hips. His pace, sensual and calculated at first, quickened until he drove into her with a vigorous pace she easily matched. She lifted her hips for each plunge, taking him in deeper, fuller. With her arms wrapped around him, she clung to his strong body. Warmth gathered in her center, pulsing. Her entire body was on fire until once again, a release shook her with the force of an earthquake.
“Euan!” she cried out.
“Oh, God, Bronwen!” he responded as he plunged faster, harder until his body shuddered above her.
They remained entwined as he slowed to a stop. He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes connecting.
A smile of pleasure and contentment curved her lips. “That was amazing.”
“Ye are amazing.” He kissed her lips gently. “I’ve never been happier that ye stormed my castle.”
She laughed as he pulled her in for a hug and rolled them both to the side. Bronwen curled up next to him, loving the feel of his strong arms around her, the way their bodies seemed made to fit together.
“And I’m glad ye felt incompetent enough to need a governess, though I must say, ye did no’ seem to need one.”
His hand stroked lazily at her hip. “I did no’ need any governess, lass. I needed ye.”
Bronwen grinned, blew out the candle, and sighed with happiness into the darkness, snuggled beside the man she loved. And in that blissful moment in time, it felt as if nothing could ever go wrong.
