Page 46 of The Finest Scottish Fate

The weight of the burgundy wool dress fell away from her body, dropping to the floor with a muffled thump.

“Much better.” He turned her to face him. “Shall we retire to one of the bedchambers or stay here by the windows?” His eyes shimmered darker than before, filled with a longing that almost made her cry out. No one had ever looked at her that way. “What do ye desire, m’love? Tell me.”

“You.” And she did. She’d waited a long time for Mr. Right instead of settling for Mr. Right-now, and Drummond was the man it had taken her forever to find. “I want you. It doesn’t matter where.”

“Good.” He picked her up, carrying her like a baby.

“You carry me a lot.”

“I love the feel of ye in my arms.” He swaggered across the room and kicked her bedroom door open. “Shall we start in yer bedchamber?”

“Start?” She swallowed hard.

He grinned with such pure, unbridled sensuality that it threatened to make her spontaneously combust. “Aye, love. Start. We’ve all night, ye ken?” He set her on the edge of the bed and knelt at her feet, which in itself unleashed a surge of fiery butterflies fluttering through her core.

She knotted her fists in the bedsheets as he untied her shoes, tossed them aside, then relieved her of her stockings, leaving her in nothing but her shift.

He stroked her calves, softly trailing his fingertips up and down in slow, sensual circles that made her gasp. But as he leaned in between her knees, she stopped him. “Don’t you need to undress too?”

His grin became a deliciously wicked smile. “As ye wish, m’love.” Rising with the slow, predatory smoothness of a panther, he kicked off his boots, stripped off his linen shirt, then tortured her with the slow untying of his black leather trousers that only reached to just below his knees. Breeks, he’d called them. At least, she thought that was what he’d said. It really didn’t matter what they were as long as they were off him and on the floor.

And then he stood before her in all his naked glory. A chiseled mountain of proud alpha male.

She lost the ability to do anything other than stare and try to breathe.

“Would ye do me the honor of removing yer shift, m’love?” he asked with a softness that felt like a caress.

Scooting off the bed, she hopped to the floor and stripped, wishing she’d managed it with a little more grace and a lot more seduction.

“Lore A’mighty, lass.” His gaze raked across her, pure need and adoration in his eyes. “Perfection, ye are. Absolute perfection.”

She didn’t agree, but now was not the time to argue. Instead, she ran her hands up the muscular ridges of his torso and chest, then molded herself against him. “You are so…” Kissing the salty sweetness of his throat, she no longer possessed the ability to speak.

“So what, m’love?” He nibbled her ear as he smoothed his hands down her back and cupped her buttocks.

“Mine.”

“Aye, m’love. That, I am.” He lifted her to sit on the edge of the bed again and knelt in front of her. Nudging her knees farther apart, he moved in for a long, slow kiss as his touch explored and teased. Then he left her mouth to nibble and kiss his way lower and lower until he laid her back on the bed and parted her legs even more. “Perfect,” he repeated as he tasted and sweetly tormented her until she bucked beneath him and cried out, exploding with exquisite sensations.

But she needed more. She ached with a terrible emptiness. She reached for him. “I need you. Now.” She stretched to brush his cheek with her fingertips. “Please?”

He slowly rose, settling over her with his hands on either side of her shoulders, and his trim hips brushing against her sensitive inner thighs. But he remained still as he stared down at her with such a solemn expression that it made her breathless.

“What?” Had she done something wrong? Was she supposed to do more for him before they moved on to the main event? Did he think her selfish for begging him to finish the job?

“Legend says that the first joining for fated mates not only melds our souls but seals them with unimaginable joy.” He brushed a tender kiss to her forehead. “We become one once again. As we were always meant to be.”

“That’s a good thing—right?”

He studied her for what felt like forever. “Aye, m’love. Verra good. And a forever thing until death parts us, and we meet again in the next life.”

His meaning, his explanation, and his intentions became clear. He wanted to make sure she knew. That she understood. And even though the time-travel part terrified her, she wanted this. She wanted him. She might have doubts about everything else, but her needing him was unquestionable.

“I understand.” She touched his sides, pressing her palms tighter against him. An energy, a breathtaking warmth, pulsed from him to her with the steadiness of a heartbeat. “I want this.”

“Before we join, we should speak the oath.” He lowered himself to his forearms, the firmness of his weight gently pressing her beneath him in the most perfect way—except she was still achingly empty. “Say the words as I do, ye ken?”

She nodded and swallowed hard, her heart about to pound its way out of her chest.