Dark Side of the Laird (Highland Bound) (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Logan

E
mma’s sensual mouth curled in a smile. “I thought it would never be ready,” she said.

I laughed, and when I reached her, turned her around so I could uncoil her hair and run my fingers through it. So soft
. The scent of lavender drifted to my nostrils. I leaned close to breathe her in.

“Ye’re the only reason I made it through that hell hole.” I slid my hands over the curve of her shoulders, massaging the tension that had taken up residence. “The thought of ye, the memories, plans for the future. If not for ye, I might have given up.”

She shook her head, her hair swaying, giving me brief glimpses of her silky neck. I leaned down and kissed the crook between her neck and shoulder. Emma sighed with pleasure and tilted her head to the side to give me better access to her flesh.

“You’re more resilient than you know, Logan,” she said. “Though you think you might have perished, I know you better than that. You’re strong and you’re loyal to your people.
You wouldn’t have allowed yourself to simply…die.”

I scraped my teeth over to her shoulder and suc
ked at her flesh. She shuddered, reached up and slid her hand around the back of my neck.

“I dinna know, lass. There were times I think I might have.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me, too.” I chuckled and turned her to face me. “I could never have left you.”

Emma slid her hands up over my chest, sending frissons of deep yearning to rush through my veins. She wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned up on tiptoe. “I hope you never do again.”

She closed the distance, kissing my lips tenderly. But all tenderness lasted a mere few
seconds as I swept my tongue inside her mouth to taste her. That simple move caused a surge of hunger to discharge through us both. We clung tight to one another, mouths hungrily sliding over and again.

As we kissed, we tugged at the clothing blocking us from touching
skin to skin. Her gown, chemise, my shirt and plaid, both our boots and hose, until we stood naked and flush together. The heat of our bodies singed as we rubbed against one another, our mouths still connected. A tantalizing torment. Her breasts crushed to my chest, hardened nipples scraping over my skin, and the warm, damp netherlips teasing my thickened cock.

I groaned, hands cupping her breasts, thumbs sliding over her cherry
-ripe nipples. My mouth watered, like her body was the essence of life and I a dying man. I dipped down to taste her reddened pebble, flicking my tongue over it, circling it, then drawing it gently into my mouth. Emma cried out, arching her back, her hands threading in my hair. Her response to me was always so raw, powerful and filled with passion, sparking a parallel response in myself.

“I’ve wanted this,” she panted, “for so long. It was torture not having you.”

“Och, lass, ye have no idea.” I feasted on one breast and then another. Slid my fingers along the inside of her thigh until I reached the dewy sweetness of her cunny. I groaned. My blood pumped, fueling me for an eternity with my desire for her.

I lifted her into the air, one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back. “Time for your bath, my lady
, else I take ye right here on the chamber floor.”

“You know, I can never have a bath without my body burning for you,” she confessed.

“The sound of water makes my cock hard, for every trickle reminds me of water dripping on your silken, luscious body.”

I practically ran to the tub, stepped inside and sank down with Emma facing away from me and settled between my thighs. Her buttocks pressed temptingly to my cock. I shifted back a little, but she only followed me.

I blew out a long breath, trying to regain some control. I wanted this to last. Didn’t want to
have it end so soon. If my cock had a mind of its own, I’d have slid inside her already.

With an arm tucked around her waist, I grabbed hold of the bar of soap and dipped it into the water. I slid the slick bar over Emma’s shoulders, down between her breasts to her belly. She sighed, a slight shudder going through her, and she leaned her head back onto my shoulder, her eyes closing.

“I could get used to this,” she murmured.

“Then we’ll have to make it a regular activity.”

“Oh, yes, please.”

I smoothed the bar over her breasts, watching the suds bubble on her creamy skin and nipples. I set the bar down, content to run my hands over her slickened skin.
To see how many bubbles I could create and pop.

Emma moaned, arching her back, her buttocks pressing harder to my groin. I gritted my teeth, turgid shaft pulsing with need.

I slid my fingers over her neck and shoulders. Pushing her forward, I stroked my soapy hands over her back, thumbs kneading the length of her spine. The ends of her hair were wet and tickled my hands and forearms.

Every inch of her felt exquisite, and she was all mine. I caressed my way to the base of her spine, over her hips to her smooth, flattened belly, then trailed my fingers down her thighs. Her legs fell open to the sides, and I couldn’t help
but take her up on her invitation. I cupped her heat, stroking my thumb over her clit and teasing the folds of her sex.

Emma gasped, writhing in my arms.

“I missed touching ye,” I whispered in her ear. “The heat of ye, so slick and smooth.”

I slid a finger inside her, feeling the muscles of her heat clenching me tight, then letting me go, then clenching again. I wanted to feel her do that on my cock.

“Turn around,” I gently commanded.

Emma grabbed hold of the tub and lifted herself up, her beautiful, heart-shaped arse in my face. I playfully smacked
her buttocks, and she shrieked and jumped around. Water sluiced down her belly, to the two bare lips of her sex, centering at the top and dripping in a line down the crack where her netherlips touched.

“Do ye know how beautiful ye are?” I asked, gaze flicking up to her face, then back down to her sex. I leaned forward, lic
king the line of her cleft, and gathering the droplets of water on my tongue.

Emma gasped, her knees buckling. I grabbed her hips, steadying her. But one lick wasn’t enough. It never was with her.
With the pads of my thumbs, I parted her folds, and gazed at the wondrous pink petals, the little nob that made her hiss when I touched it. I flicked my tongue over the knotted flesh, listening for that quick indrawn breath and chuckling with satisfied pleasure when it passed her lips.

I slipped
a finger slowly inside her as I scraped my teeth gently over her clit. Emma moaned, a guttural, primal sound that I answered with a groan of my own, sucking gently on that bundle of nerves as I tongued her folds. I held tight to her hip, balancing her as she trembled and quaked. Heated cream slicked my fingers as I plunged in and out. She draped herself over me, hands on my shoulders, breasts on my head, hair tickling the top of my back. I was relentless in my pursuit of her pleasure. I lapped at her delicious body, the slippery folds, that bundle of nerves, all the while fucking her with one finger, then two, then stretching her further with three.

She moaned, panted, mumbled incoherent words. Her nails dug deep into my flesh. Every time I felt her body tense, I pulled my fingers out, mouth away, blew hotly on her sex, but didn’t touch her. Counted to twenty, then dipped back in,
teasing her with small nudges of my tongue and only one finger, before diving back in completely, loving her with my whole mouth and multiple fingers deep inside her.

After forcing her to hold back her climax
several times, I gave into her trembling, aching need and drove her over the edge. Head thrown back, beautiful body taught, she peaked. An erotic cry that thrummed along every nerve in my body like the swipe of her delicious tongue, poured from her lips. Her sex held my fingers tight as she spasmed around me. Emma’s completion was glorious, wonderful and had me nearly climaxing just to behold it.

Grabbing hold of her hips, I tugged her down, her knees straddling my hips, my cock notching against her entrance. “I love ye,” I said.

Emma kissed me hard, licking her juices from my lips and tongue, and thrusting her pelvis downward, my cock filling her. “I love you, too,” she said.

She felt so good surrounding me. Tight, warm, wet.
Like home. If I could, I’d stay buried inside her for the rest of my life. I held onto her hips, steadying her pace, but when I’d teased her before, she now returned the favor, ignoring the pace I set, she bounced on me rapidly. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub, but I didn’t care. A casualty of our war on pleasure.

The muscles of her sheath clenched tight around me with every downward move, and I swore I was going to explode every time.
She was doing that thing she’d been doing on my fingers. Tightening, releasing, tightening, releasing. Gritting my teeth, I squeezed my eyes shut and kissed the hell out of her at the same time I forced myself not to come.

When Emma sucked in a ragged gasp and her body
stiffened as she hastened her pace, I knew we were at the end, and I no longer had to hold back. I growled, crying out with the force of my body shattering. My orgasm gripped me tight and held on strong as I pumped up into her, matching her frantic rhythm. At that same moment, Emma too cried out, her body jerking forcefully.

We stayed in the water until our skin prickled and pruned, and then we climbed out, drying each other before the hearth. As I knelt before Emma, looking up at her pink, love-ripened skin, I was overcome with my love for her.

“Will ye marry me?” I asked her.

A broad grin covered her lips. “Is this an official proposal?” she asked.

“Aye, lass. I know I’ve said it before. But now I would make it happen without waiting. I want ye to be my wife. I love ye.”

“I love you, too.”

“When I stared death in the face, all I could think about was not wanting to leave ye behind. When I think about the rest of my life, I canna imagine it without ye in it. Ye’ve shared my deepest, darkest secrets. Ye’ve seen me at my lowest, and ye’ve seen me at my highest. Hell, woman, ye traveled through the bounds of time and space. Emma, love, ye’ve changed my whole world. Ye’ve changed who I am, who I want to be. And all for the better. I’d not realized how lost I was until I met ye. How hopelessly broken I was. Ye made me whole again and I want to spend the rest of my life making ye happy.”

“Oh my God, Logan!” Tears welled in her eyes and I leapt to my feet, gathering her in my arms.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too. You’re my everything. You showed me how to love again, how to be strong. I can’t live without you.”

I swiped at the tears gathering on her cheeks and kissed her hard on the mouth.
“As soon as we rise, we’ll make it happen.”

She beamed.
“I wish it were morning already.”

My heart pounded, booming within my chest.
“How should we pass the time?” I wiggled my eyebrows and gave her a wicked grin.

Emma winked naughtily. “I know several ways.” She turned and scurried toward the bed, jumping up onto it on all fours. Turning her head around toward me, she wiggled her arse. “Want to start here?”

Oh, Lord, did I ever.

Epilogue

Emma

W
ith nervous excitement, I let Hilde and Agatha argue over who would braid my hair, and then which color ribbons they’d weave within it. Hilde wanted gold to reflect the highlights in my hair. Agatha wanted green to match my eyes. In the end, they chose both.

Another beautiful gown had been pulled from Logan’s foster mother’s chest—her wedding gown. It was elegant, gorgeous, and probably the prettiest dress I’d ever had. Made from ivory wool—like cashmere—seed pearls were clung to the neckline, wrists and hem by gilded thread. The bodice was fashioned from the clan’s colors—green and red with thin stripes of dark blue. I was mesmerized, and so were my two mother hens.

Hilde had returned with us just the day before, to Gealach Castle, and the two older women had not stopped bickering since meeting. About everything. Me. Logan. Food. Drinks. Clothing. It was ridiculous, but beneath all their bluster, I could see the beginnings of a dear friendship.

Logan’s body had healed, though I feared for his heart. I never doubted t
hat he loved me. Never doubted for a second on that account, but since we’d rescued him from that dark dungeon, he’d scowled and brooded far more than he ever had before.

All of his broken bones, torn flesh and bruises, his weakened state, took weeks to heal, far longer than he wanted, but with both Hilde and I making him rest, he had no other choice. Well, that wasn’t really true. If he’d wanted to get up and walk out, I doubted there was anything the two of us could have done to stop him.

Half his guards remained behind at the tiny cottage deep in the woods that belonged to Hilde. There she’d whipped up her potions, lotions and ointments and sewn Logan up. With Hilde’s care and regular meals, Logan had mended. His body was riddled with new scars, but they were battle wounds he bore proudly, because he was still alive.

I was shocked to see t
hat they bowed to me, not just Logan. They respected me. They trusted me. They looked up to me. Not something I’d ever expected. And it felt good. I’d wanted to be a part of them, hadn’t realized how much. Now I belonged. I had a family.

I was elated at finding
Ewan healthy and walking around. Watching Logan and Ewan side by side looked like a pair that had walked from one end of the earth to the other. Both a little beat up and pale, but showing the world their strength, their passion for life and for their people.

But the most change came when Logan chose not to kill MacDonald when he could have. He proved that he was still deadly when he fought the man. As much as I’d seen. I ran from the room, but couldn’t keep completely away. I watched from one of the spy holes as Logan thwarted the asshole.

He’d not ended the man’s life, choosing peace. It made me smile. Logan really was trying to change his life. He wanted us to live peacefully in this new reign. And so it began.

In
our chamber when Logan knelt down on his knee and proposed, his heartfelt confession had torn into me, flayed me open.

How could I ever deny him?
Or myself?

Then we’d
made love. We’d feasted. We’d danced. We rejoiced.

“All done, now, lass,” Agatha said.

“Aye, all done,” Hilde piped in.

I rolled my eyes and stood from the bench.

“Thank you.”

Someone knocked at the chamber door. Thank God, good timing. I could get away from these mother hens.

The older women rushed to the door and butted hips until one of them finally grasped the handle and opened it.

Ewan stood in the doorway looking in at the pair of them like they’d shape-shifted into monkeys.

“Ignore them,” I said. “They’ve been jockeying for power since we got back.”

All of them looked at me oddly, and I knew it was because they didn’t understand what jockeying meant, but I suspected they got the
gist of it as the two older women both flicked their gazes away, a little embarrassed.

I laughed and hugged them both tight, and whispered, “I’ve not had a mother in a long time. I’m more than happy to find I now have two.”

Two pairs of arms wrapped around me, and I didn’t dare squeak at the slight pull to my hair or the need for air.

“Are ye ready, lass?” Ewan asked.

“I’ve never been more ready in my life.”

“I’d be honored to escort ye to the great hall then.”

“Thank you.” I took his offered arm and he led me from my chamber out into the corridor.

For a split second, I expected to see Isabella rushing toward me, dagger drawn, but there was only the flaming torches to greet us. That wench
and her uncle were halfway to nowhere by now. Though, Logan was certain MacDonald would return, revenge on his mind. No doubt his niece would also seek vengeance. We’d be ready when they did. Together, we could conquer anything.

Down the stairs we went until we reached the crowded great hall that had been decorated with swaths of silky fabrics hanging over the walls and ceilings, vases of holly bushes, fir branches and herbs scented the air.
The entire clan gathered for the ceremony. Our wedding.

A broad smile broke out on my face. This time around, my marriage would be real, meaningful and happy. There would be no fear, no power play, but pure love, pleasure and friendship.

Near the hearth stood the clan’s priest and beside him, my dark, wickedly handsome laird. Soon to be my husband.

Today, I would bind myself completely to him and his world.
Forever letting go of Emma Gordon and the twenty-first century Today, I’d become Lady Grant, mistress of Gealach, wife of the Guardian.

Ewan led me through the crowd and I smiled with pure joy at Logan, for it seemed every wish I’d dreamed of had come true.

He stood in full regalia, buffed leather boots, bared knees, red and green great kilt, flung over his shoulder and pinned with a large silver, Celtic knot brooch. His broad chest filled out a crisp new white linen shirt. Cleanly shaven face, and dark hair curling toward his collar. His eyes danced with merriment. Damn, but he was one sexy Scot.

My heart fluttered, skipped a beat and my mouth went dry. And then he smiled at me. The corner of his lip quirking up as his gaze roved over me appreciatively. Suddenly
, I was hot all over, nipples hard, aching and my thighs clenching tight. I loved it when he looked at me like that. I felt wicked and delicious.

“I’m glad to have been here fo
r your wedding,” Ewan whispered beside me.

My gaze shot to his, and again I was struck by his eyes. Probably for the thousandth time. He was so like my brother Trey.
An impossibility, but all the same, Ewan was like a brother to me.

“As opposed to being…?”

He winked. “I owe my life to ye, lass. The entire clan does.”

I shook my head. “No, Ewan. No one owes me anything.” I glanced up at Logan and smiled. “We are all destined to things, people, places. It is up to us if we choose to take our destinies seriously, or we let
them slip away.”

“Then I am grateful your destiny sent ye to us.”

“As am I,” Logan said as we’d reached the hearth. “Eternally grateful.”

Ewan placed my hand on Logan’s arm and then took a step away from us.

As one, Logan and I turned to face the priest.

It was just us two against the world.
Together forever, in our own happily ever after.

“The End”

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