The door swung open, slamming against the wall, and in strode the Sinclare men, Tavish in the lead. He was a formidable figure, as were his sons, who followed him, though none looked happy, which could only mean they hadn’t found what they looked for.
Addie immediately went to her husband, and he gripped her in a tight embrace. It was easy to see that the news was not good, for husband and wife clung to each other and tears shone in Addie’s eyes.
Honora hurried to her husband’s side, Champion joining her. She went directly into his arms and he dropped his head next to hers and squeezed her tight. She could feel his defeat and thought it best not to ask, not to speak, just offer him comfort and love.
Without a word they left the great hall, Champion quietly following them, his whimpers growing louder as he struggled to climb the stairs. Cavan stopped, turned, scooped him up and tucked him in the crook of his left arm, Honora in his right arm, and all three continued up the steps.
Champion was set before the fireplace to sleep, and Cavan kept his wife tucked in his arm until they reached the bed.
“We have something to finish,” he said softly. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“Have you?” she asked.
“No. I want you more than ever.”
“Truly?” she asked.
He took her hand and slipped it beneath his kilt. He was hot, hard, yet silky soft and throbbed like a steady heartbeat.
That life-reassuring rhythm ignited not only her passion, but her feelings, and she spoke from her heart. “I belong only to you, and I want to feel no other but you inside me.”
In response, he swung her up in his arms and had her down on the bed in no time, though then he hesitated, sat beside her on the bed and simply stared at her.
“What troubles you?” she asked thoughtfully, a comforting hand resting at his leg.
“Your beauty.”
She was taken back and didn’t know how to respond.
He smiled and kissed her gently. “Your beauty goes far deeper than simply your features. I’ve often heard talk of beautiful hearts, but never truly had the honor of meeting such a person. Imagine my surprise when I realized I married one.”
Her heart soared along with her smile.
“Right now I ache for you, as you felt for yourself. It is an ache not only born of need, however, but of something much deeper. I have grown to appreciate you in the strangest of ways, one simply being that I feel safe knowing you sleep close by.”
“Tonight we will sleep much closer, and I for one will be grateful.”
“Want me in your bed, do you?” he teased.
She grew serious. “I very much want you in my bed—now and always.”
“Don’t intend to let me go?” he asked.
She took tight hold of his hand. “You are mine and I will never let you go. I will always protect and keep you safe.”
Cavan laughed. “It is I who should be reassuring you about that.”
“But I know you will always protect me and keep me safe. I want you to know I will do the same for you. I would give—”
He pressed his fingers to her lips. “Do not say what I think you intend. You will never, ever give your life for me.”
She took hold of his hand and kissed it gently. “You would give your life for me.”
“Of course, but that is different.”
“Why?”
“I am a man, a warrior, it is my duty.”
“And I,” she said, sitting up to press her cheek against his, “love you and would give my life for you.”
She felt his body grow tense and knew his reaction would be to take firm hold of her and command her never to do such a thing. How to stop his predictable response?
Could she be so bold? And before she could lose her courage, she slipped her hand beneath his kilt to first tentatively then gently run her fingers over the length of his hardness. Then finally she gripped him firmly in her hand.
“You do not play fair,” he whispered in her ear.
“A good teacher taught me the art of warfare.”
In seconds his hand slipped beneath her skirt and his fingers quickly entered her while his thumb caressed her nub, which in no time throbbed madly.
“So we battle?” he teased, nibbling along her ear.
She moaned, laughed softly and murmured, “I surrender.”
He laughed. “No, sweetheart, not yet you haven’t.”
He had them both undressed in minutes, and where Honora once worried about being naked and vulnerable in front of him, she felt no such qualms now that she was unclothed. She wanted him to touch her, kiss her, caress her. She wanted to make love with him.
“You are so very beautiful,” he said between lavishing kisses over her breasts.
She raised her chest up for her breast to meet his lips, and when he took her nipple in his mouth, she moaned with the pleasure he brought her. He played with it, nipped at it, and suckled it until she thought she would go mad, and when he finished he moved to her other breast and did the same.
He continued to lavish kisses all over her body, and the more he did, the more sensitive her flesh became, until he could not touch a part of her without her moaning, arching, twisting, or writhing.
She couldn’t think; she could only respond.
While he rained kisses over her stomach, his fingers worked their magic between her legs, and Lord did she respond. She didn’t want him to stop; she never wanted him to stop. Never had she imagined that making love could feel so miraculous.
“You taste so sweet, so delectable,” he said, slowly making his way down her stomach with kisses.
She almost jolted off the bed when his mouth replaced his fingers, and she thought she’d burst from the pleasurable torment. He tasted her with a mixture of tenderness and firmness until she believed she could bear no more. Then he slipped over her, and she took hold of him once more.
He stopped abruptly and growled deep and low. “Don’t,” he warned. “My need for you is too great.”
She understood, and guided the full throbbing length of him into her as he braced his hands on either side of her and hovered above her.
“You feel so good,” she couldn’t help but say.
He pressed his forehead to hers and groaned.
Honora moved her hand off him as she felt him take command, and he slipped into her, slowly at first, and then as she writhed beneath him, he entered her harder and she arched up. He pushed, and a rhythm was set just before he plunged deep and she gasped, not from the pain but from pure passion.
He pressed his cheek to hers, his breathing rapid, all movement stilled. “Are you all right?”
“No,” she whimpered, then accused. “You stopped.”
He chortled, then warned her, “Hold on.”
She gripped his arms tightly and was soon moaning loudly from the pleasure coursing through her body. Her damp flesh tingled, her body throbbed unmercifully, and she knew that only he, her husband, could bring her the satisfaction she ached for.
He had been right when he warned her that she hadn’t surrendered yet, though she wanted to and he refused to let her. He teased her, slowing the rhythm just as she thought she would burst, then starting again until she thought she’d go mad.
Until finally she felt his surrender draw near, his rhythm steady, firm, certain, and she knew he would not stop, could not stop, and together they held on, riding harder, stronger, until…
When the explosive release hit her, she thought she would die from the pleasure of it and tightened her grip on Cavan, her writhing far from over until she finally felt spent, but far from empty; she felt full, whole, complete.
Unexpectedly, tears filled her eyes. Tears were streaming down her cheeks when Cavan lifted his head, brushed his cheek to hers, and looked at her, startled.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
He would have jumped off her if she hadn’t stilled him with a tight squeeze. “No, don’t go, and no, you did
n’t hurt me.”
“Then why the tears?” he demanded gently, kissing them away.
She smiled. “I’ve never felt anything so beautiful. I’ve never felt so whole.”
He tried to respond, but she pressed her finger to his lips. “I know you have probably made love many times, but this is my first, and I am glad it was with you—my husband.”
He moved his lips off her finger. “I have had sex many times. Tonight I made love for the first time, and I’m glad it was with my wife.”
“Truly? You do not jest with me?”
He wiped away the last of her tears. “Know that I speak the truth when I tell you that before tonight I have never known such satisfying pleasure with a woman.”
She placed a gentle hand to his cheek and smiled. “You can please me anytime you like.”
He laughed softly. “Be careful what you offer. You may find yourself forever in this bed.”
She looked startled. “You mean we can only make love in bed?”
He laughed again. “I should be the one warned of you.”
She slipped her arms around his neck. “Then be forewarned, husband, for I fear I have an insatiable appetite for you.”
Chapter 24
The sun would rise shortly, but Cavan had woken almost an hour ago. He cuddled around his wife, who slept on her side, her back embedded against him. She was naked and had insisted on remaining so. She had expressed her pleasure in feeling his naked flesh against hers and how wonderful it would be throughout the night to feel him there, skin to skin, next to each other.
Naturally, she had excited him, and they made love again. She was certainly not the frightened little mouse he once thought her to be, but then he realized mice could be cunning little creatures, scurrying and forging until they found what they wanted and then contentedly nesting.
Honora showed no signs of being fearful or meek when it came to making love. On the contrary, she appeared to enjoy every moment and it was obvious she wanted to learn more. When she wasn’t sure, she asked him, and damn if her honest curiosity didn’t enflame him even more.
He thought he’d climax instantly when she asked him, while holding his engorged member in her hand, if it was acceptable for her to taste him intimately, as he had her.
Needless to say, he confirmed with a hasty nod that it was, and damn if she hadn’t taken sincere, lengthy pleasure in doing it, as he had with her. He grinned, remembering. Honora was more than he ever hoped for in a wife. and he felt lucky and also guilty.
She had expressed her love for him, which touched his heart and warmed his soul. He had no idea how she could have fallen in love with him since he hadn’t been even pleasant since his return home, but she had nonetheless.
He should be grateful, but instead guilt haunted him. Not that he wasn’t certain he loved his wife. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he had lost his heart to her. He had no idea when it happened; he couldn’t pinpoint it, and it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had finally realized how he felt about her. And yet…
He couldn’t bring himself to tell her. No matter how many times last night she had uttered her love for him, he couldn’t respond in kind. He couldn’t allow himself or her that joy, release, or pleasure. He had no right to be happy.
His failure to see his brother safe forever haunted him, as did information he had learned while held captive, and while he wished to share it with someone, he couldn’t. He didn’t know whom to trust.
Cavan glanced down at his sleeping wife. How he would love to tell her, but then the information might also place her in jeopardy. He was certain that it would prove a link to whoever held his brother, and could possibly be the key to Ronan’s safe return. But so far he’d had no success in discovering the link.
Sooner or later he would have to trust someone. He had intended to do that upon his return, but the more he thought about the situation on his journey home, the more he realized it would be better to keep the news to himself and allow the truth to be revealed in its own time.
Honora stirred beside him, rubbing her backside against him and sighing softly. Her eyes remained closed, and he smiled. Even in sleep passion nibbled at her. He ran a gentle hand over her breasts, teasing her nipples to life and stirring her desire even further.
When her sigh turned to a moan, he ran his hand down over her stomach and between her legs, to enter her gently and pleasure her even more.
Her eyes drifted open and he nibbled at her neck, probed her deeper and whispered, “I want you.” He knew it should have been I love you, but not yet, not yet.
“Then take me,” she said with a long stretch as she turned, arching her back.
His mouth assaulted one of her nipples and she cried out with pleasure.
Cavan didn’t wait; he didn’t want to. He wanted her right then, and he took her fast and hard. And she responded in kind, as if they had been lovers long denied and this was their first coming together after a lengthy separation. Their need was all that mattered, nothing else, and, insatiable as it was, they fed it.
The bed shook from their fierce joining, and their climaxes were explosive, both of them crying out in pure, unbridled pleasure. Afterward, neither could speak. Cavan rolled off Honora, to collapse beside her. He locked hands with her, and there they lay recovering, their bodies damp, their breathing heavy, their hearts beating wildly.
They lay quietly for several minutes, their fingers wrapped strong around each other’s.
Finally, Honora turned on her side to face him. “Do I demand too much of you?” she asked.
Cavan laughed heartily and turned to kiss the tip of her nose. “Demand all you want.”
Honora grinned. “Good, for I truly enjoy coupling with you.”
“We’ll couple as much as you want,” he assured her, thinking how lucky he was to have her for a wife.
“And not only in bed,” she reminded.
“Wherever you like.”
“Or whenever the mood strikes,” she said.
“Be moody all you want,” he said, trying hard to sound more agreeable than gleeful.
They heard a little whimper then, and a moment later Champion appeared by the side of the bed, his tail wagging.
Honora bounced up. “I forgot he was here with us. He must need to go outside and he’s probably hungry. I’m starving myself.” She threw the covers back, but before jumping out of bed turned and kissed her husband soundly on the lips.
Cavan cushioned his head with his arms and watched her race around the room naked, gathering her clothes and searching for fresh ones to wear. She was a sight to behold and he savored the view, from her firm buttocks to her generous hips and narrow waist, and Lord did he favor her full breasts. He could still taste her on his lips.
Before she could slip into her clothes, he sprinted out of bed, grabbed her around the waist and hugged her close. “The day is ours to do as we wish.”
She giggled, rubbed her body temptingly against his, and in a singsong voice warned, “Be careful what you wish for.”
He nuzzled at her neck. “I’ll be very careful, but I have a distinct feeling that all my wishes will come true today.”
Champion whimpered louder, and Honora pulled away from him. “He really needs to go outside,” she said and hurriedly dressed, slipping on a brown skirt and blue blouse. Then, with boots in hand, she rushed out the door.
Cavan intended to make certain that Champion didn’t spend another night in their room. He didn’t rush to join his wife, knowing she would be busy fussing over the pup, and besides, he could use time alone, time to think.
He was dressing in his plaid and his tan shirt when a thought hit him.
Hadn’t he spent enough time alone? Hadn’t he longed to return to family and friends? Hadn’t he ached for his isolation and torment to end?
He enjoyed his wife’s company, had enjoyed it even before they became intimate. Of late he also realized how much he enjoyed his brothers’ company and how much he’d mi
ssed talking with his father. His father was a wise man and leader and had taught him much and could teach him much more.
He realized that for the first time since his return, he felt deeply grateful to be home.
He hurried to join his wife and family for the morning meal, feeling as if it truly would be his first meal since he returned.
Laughter continued to surface at the breakfast table, the Sinclare men telling Honora of a childhood beset by an older brother who tried to lead before his time, and Cavan defending himself by citing their youthful foolishness, which he said forced him to protect them at every turn.
The conversation turned serious when Addie addressed their hasty departure the day before.
“The false news yielded disappointment,” she said, “but one day you will ride out and return with Ronan and our family will be whole once again.”
The three sons nodded, and her husband confirmed her assessment. “Ronan will return home, I promise you that, Addie,” Tavish said with determination. “Ronan will come home.”
“With the stories you have told me, how could he not?” Honora said innocently.
“What do you mean?” Artair asked.
Honora smiled. “Ronan manipulated all of you and—”
The three brothers didn’t let her finish; they voiced their disagreement loudly.
“Ronan wouldn’t know how,” Lachlan said.
“He never paid attention,” Artair added.
“He forever needed help,” Cavan finished.
Honora laughed. “Can’t you see that he did that all on purpose?”
The three brothers shook their heads and mumbled denials.
She looked to Addie and Tavish for help. “You know your sons. You must have seen how Ronan controlled the three of them.”
The three brothers stared at their parents sitting side by side, their hands clasped.
“Ronan could connive,” Tavish admitted.
Addie nodded. “Ronan had his way of getting around people and getting what he wanted.”
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