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“I will take it as an encouragement,” he chuckled.

He added one more finger, stretching her gently, and then started thrusting into her.

“Alisdair! I will…”

“Let go, little rebel. Come on me tongue.”

Her back bowed off the bed, and a loud cry tore from her throat. Her inner walls spasmed around his fingers, but he didn’t stop, coaxing every last wave of pleasure out of her. When she finally settled, he licked into her, tasting her juices like a man starving.

Then he pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh and rose over her. Isla was panting, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed, her nipples pebbled. She was the bonniest thing he had ever seen.

Their eyes met, her own glassy with raw need. His manhood stiffened against the tartan. His hands went to his belt, unbuckled it, and let the heavy kilt fall to the floor.

“I promised ye, little rebel,” he growled. “When this was over, I would have every inch of ye. And I am a man of me word.”

EPILOGUE

HEALING

Isla could barely focus Isla could barely focus. Her body still hummed as Alisdair stood before her, gloriously naked, the dawn light accentuating the sharp lines of his body, the light dusting of hair on his chest and down his abdomen, the V of his hips.

Her eyes dropped lower to his manhood. It was hard. Thick. Ready. Her core clenched at the sight of it, and she sat up. Her hands itched with the need to feel taut skin over hard muscles. She reached for him, her fingers brushing his hip.

He hissed at her touch. “Isla…”

He scooped her off the edge of the bed and laid her back on the furs. Her legs opened to welcome him, and he settled between them. He braced his weight on his forearms, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Can I have ye, little rebel?” he murmured, his warm breath fanning her cheeks.

“Ye already do,” she replied softly.

She watched his expression soften into something intimate, something reserved only for her. She lifted her hand to stroke his face, to ground them both in the moment.

“Do ye trust me?” he asked.

She nodded.

His eyes darkened, before she felt the tip of his manhood pressing against her entrance.

“I waited so long for ye,” he whispered against her lips.

He pushed into her, and she gasped at the stretch.

“Breathe, Isla,” he murmured.

She let out a deep sigh. Above her, Alisdair groaned, low and rough

“I am tryin’ very hard nae to lose control, wife. But if ye keep making sounds like that…”

He pushed deeper into her, and her back arched off the furs.

“Oh,” she moaned.

He growled as he sheathed himself inside her to the hilt, and her eyes closed at the fullness. He was finally buried inside her, hot and pulsing. The burn gradually faded as she adjusted to his size.

“So perfect,” Alisdair whispered.

He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, then the spot beneath her ear. He licked and sucked on her earlobe, making her tremble.