“Oh, my…” she murmured, and then gasped at having said the words aloud.
With his lips still on hers, he whispered. “What did ye feel just now?”
“I felt… So many things.” Wanted so many more.
“Pleasure?” This he said with his warm mouth trailing over her jawline toward her ear.
“Oh, aye… I like this. A lot.”
He chuckled as he scraped his teeth over her earlobe, sending another tawdry shiver through her. “That is why men and women lie together, love, besides making bairns. For pleasure. For… love.”
“Love?” She tilted her head to the side as he trailed kisses down her neck. Her mind was a whirl of incoherent thoughts, but one thing came out loud and clear—she was enjoying his kisses and touch very much, and she didn’t want him to stop.
“Aye. I want to make love to my wife.”
Saints! Bella gulped, swallowing hard and finding it equally difficult to breathe. “I… dinna know what to do.”
A gravelly chuckle came from his lips where they toyed with her neck. “But I do. And I will show ye.”
“Oh…”
His hand trailed down her spine, and then circled around her ribs, and if she thought she felt heavy and weak before, that was nothing compared to now.
Niall reached around front and plucked at the ribbon tying her robe closed. The fabric gave way, and Bella shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor behind where she knelt.
“We are really going to…” The words evaporated from her mind.
Niall grinned wolfishly, and that look of want in his eyes made her shiver all the more. “Aye, love. We’re really going to.”
Next he tugged at the ribbons on the front of her nightrail, sliding a single finger down the opening between her breasts, making her shiver at the warm contact of his finger on her bare flesh.
“Your skin is so soft. Softer than mine.”
Without thinking, Bella reached for him, touching the exposed skin at his throat and unlacing his shirt to touch his chest. A sprinkling of hair covered the exposed skin and his shirt fell open to form a V over his heart.
“Ye’re warm.”
He chuckled, the sound like a caress. “So are ye.” He bent to kiss her, speaking softly against her lips. “And before this night is through, we’ll both be verra, verra hot.”
Bella let out a whimper as he snaked his arm around her back and stood, pulling her up against his hard body, while deepening their kiss.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, on tiptoe now, pressing herself tighter against him, gasping at the heat of their bare skin, and at the spark of need and hunger it caused.
With his palm at her back, he started to scrunch up her nightrail with his fingers, lifting the fabric slowly over her legs, until her buttocks were exposed to the evening air.
Bella gasped, thinking at first to pull away, never having been so exposed to a man in her life, but, Niall pulled his lips from hers, gazed into her eyes and said, “Do ye trust me?”
Slowly, she nodded, realizing that she absolutely did trust him. With all her heart.
“Take off your nightrail. Let me see ye.”
Bella took a step back from him, slid a sleeve off one shoulder, and then the other, letting the fabric fall around her feet. She stood there, completely naked, firelight dancing over her skin, watching as his gaze devoured her.
Prickles of desire rose up on her flesh, and she trembled, but not from cold, or truly from nerves, but with the need to feel him against her, to have his lips on hers, his hand on her back.
“Ye are so incredibly beautiful.” Niall’s voice was tight, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “I still canna believe ye wanted me for your own.”
“I did, I do. More than a husband in name only. I like the way ye kiss me… I want us to be… lovers.”
Niall groaned and reached for her, his fingers sliding over her hip as he drew her back to him. He covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. Bella breathed him in, shocked at the contact and delighting in the clean, woodsy scent of him.
He backed her toward the bed, her knees touching the mattress and she sat down, scooting back as he covered her with this body, then rolled to the right side of her, her arm cradled behind his back. She drew gentle circles on his spine, wondering at the rippling muscles. Niall trailed kisses down her neck, and along her collarbones. The backs of his fingers moved gently up and down her leg, over her waist, then up her ribs to her breast. He cupped the flesh, kneading it gently and she moaned, never having guessed that a man touching her would feel this good. His kiss traveled lower, mouth hovering over the opposite breast, tickling her skin, and teasing her tight nipple. When he flicked his tongue over its tip she arched her back and cried out, not having expected him to do such a thing, nor expecting the sharp tremor of pleasure that went right from that spot to between her legs.
“I love the way ye respond to my touch,” he murmured before flicking his tongue out again.
“I…” But she couldn’t speak, nor could she even form a thought.
His fingers had moved from her breast to her hip again, and now trailed gently over her belly and down over her pubic bone and back.
She instinctively clamped her legs shut, but every time his fingers came back toward her center, she found her legs falling open, beckoning him to touch her in her most sensitive and secret of places.
Still he taunted her, back and forth as he laved at her breast and then kissed her hard on the mouth, building a tension and pressure within her, until she finally grabbed his hand and pressed it firmly between her legs, gasping at the sensation that shuddered through her, at her own boldness and the feral growl that issued from his throat.
“Och, Bella… Ye’re so wet…”
Wet. Was that good? He seemed to think so. His fingers slid between her folds finding a knot of flesh that pulsed and quickened every time he brushed the pad of his thumb over it. He kissed her again, murmuring against her lips about how much she pleased him. And she hadn’t even done anything. He moved back to her breast, sucking her nipple, a finger pushing inside her, and she arched her back again.
Moans and sighs escaped her, and she found herself completely surprised at her reaction to him, but wanting more and more.
Niall’s fingers worked magic between her legs, caressing and sliding in and out, she writhed with his ministrations, her hips moving up and down of their own accord, and then that fiery tension that had been building and pulsating sharpened into a point before concentrating in her center and exploding outward.
Bella nearly came off the bed, eyes flying wide, fingers digging into his back.
“That was incredible,” he murmured against her mouth. “I want to see ye do that again.”
“Can I?” she breathed out.
“Oh, love, ye can. Over and over.” And he proceeded to show her, stroking her into a fiery passion once more until her body bowed on the mattress.
Except this time, he came over her, supporting himself on his elbow. “Wrap your legs around my hips.”
She did as he asked, feeling the plush tip of something hard press to her still pulsing center. The part of him she’d believed he didn’t possess. And oh, how he possessed it. She reached between their bodies, stroking a finger down the long, velvet hard length of him.
Niall’s eyes bulged, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “God, lass, if ye keep doing that, I’ll not last a breath. ’Twas hard enough watching ye writhe from my touch.”
“I want to see ye do the same.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I will. Guide me in.”
She swallowed, suddenly nervous again. “How?”
“Slide the tip of me between your folds.”
Bella did as he instructed, gasping at how it felt when the plush head of his erection stroked over her sensitive flesh. As she guided him from that knot of flesh downward, he pressed his hips forward, notching himself at her entrance.
“Good, lass. Ye can
take your hand back.”
“But I like the feel of ye.”
He grinned down at her, catching her lips and kissing her deep, his hips pushing forward, the tip slowly entering her. She kept her hand wrapped around him, their hearts pounding against each other.
“This might hurt,” he whispered, “but only for a second and I promise it willna hurt again. Do ye trust me?”
Bella’s eyes flew open at the mention of pain and she gazed into his eyes and nodded. “I trust ye.”
“Move your hand. Hold onto my shoulders.”
She did as he instructed, holding tight to the muscles of his strong shoulders beneath his shirt. Her legs clutching his hips. Keeping their gazes locked, he surged forward. There was a pinch of pain as he passed through her maidenhead, filling her up, stretching her. The discomfort was not acute, but she still felt invaded, and wanted him to move away. All pleasure seeming to evaporate with that one plunge.
“Are ye all right? Did it hurt a lot?”
She blinked, realizing tears had gathered in her eyes, and she contemplated shoving him off. But already the pain and discomfort seemed to be easing. “Not too bad.”
“Tell me when it stops hurting.”
“Already it fades.” And it did. She shifted, getting used to the size of him, and felt a spark of that heated tension that stirred in her when he touched her with his fingers, only intensified.
“Och, love, ye feel so good. I’m going to move.”
She nodded, and he pulled out of her slowly, before pushing back in. Bella had thought when he touched her with his fingers that she’d never felt such pleasure, but with him inside her, there was a whole new amount of euphoria that threatened to consume her.
“Feels… good,” she murmured between gasps of pleasure.
“So good.” Niall kissed her again, an erotic tangling of tongues. A possessive, demanding kiss.
Bella was a quick learner, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts. Bracing her legs higher around his hips, stroking her hands up and down his back, tugging his shirt up so she could touch his bare skin. Even daringly, she roved her caress over the hard, yet soft swell of his buttocks. The man was a god.
That same tension spiraled into her center, threatening to unleash its power, and Bella gave herself over to it—to him. Niall led her to a magical place that had pleasure coursing through her, around her, over her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel.
She cried out at her release, and felt him shudder over her as he, too, rumbled his pleasure.
When the trembling within them subsided, Niall rolled to the side, and tugged her with him. She lay in the crook of his arm as he drew circles on her back and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“What did ye think?” he asked, a measure of uncertainty in his voice.
“I think I canna believe anyone would say ye couldna… or didna have…”
Niall chuckled. “I pleased ye then, lass?”
“Oh, Niall.” She leaned up on her elbow and kissed his chin, not daring to tell him was now more certain than ever that Princess Elizabeth was a great fool. “Ye pleased me verra much. Taught me even more. And did I please ye?”
“More than I could have ever dared hope for.” There was a light in his eyes that she’d never seen before, and it warmed her through and through.
“Are we allowed to do that any time we wish?” she asked, eager to join with him once more.
“Aye,” he winked, pinching her bottom. “We are married after all.”
Bella squealed. “Then I wish to do so again.”
In one move, he’d climbed over her, parting her legs. “And I will endeavor to make your every wish come true, Bella, my love.”
Warmth spread through her at his words. His love. Oh, but the world seemed to be complete at that moment.
Bella sighed, leaning up to kiss him on his very beautiful lips. “And I ye, my love.”
To be continued…
I hope you enjoyed this prelude of THE HIGHLANDER’S GIFT, look for more in 2018!
If you enjoyed THE HIGHLANDER’S GIFT, please spread the word by leaving a review on the site where you purchased your copy, or a reader site such as Goodreads or Shelfari! I love to hear from readers too, so drop me a line at [email protected] OR visit me on Facebook: facebook.com/elizaknightauthor. I’m also on Twitter: @ElizaKnight. If you’d like to receive my occasional newsletter, please sign up at www.elizaknight.com. Many thanks!
About Eliza Knight
Eliza Knight is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling indie author of sizzling historical romance and erotic romance. Under the name E. Knight, she pens rip-your-heart-out historical fiction. While not reading, writing or researching for her latest book, she chases after her three children. In her spare time (if there is such a thing…) she likes daydreaming, wine-tasting, traveling, hiking, staring at the stars, watching movies, shopping and visiting with family and friends. She lives atop a small mountain with her own knight in shining armor, three princesses and two very naughty puppies. Visit Eliza at www.elizaknight.com or her historical blog History Undressed: www.historyundressed.com.
Visit her at:
Facebook:
@ElizaKnightFiction
Twitter:
@ElizaKnight
Instagram:
@ElizaKnightFiction
Brash: Frederick
A Laurel Creek Novella
Hildie McQueen
Chapter One
Laurel Creek, Montana
The rumble from the engine of his brand new lightening blue limited edition Mustang almost made Rick Edwards smile, but the grim picture of his sister’s angry tears yanked that shit right back. He blew out a breath and scanned the long stretch of winding road before him.
When he crested a hill, plush green land spanned across as far as he could see. It had rained for two days straight. This day, however, brought with it sunshine that streamed between fluffy clouds. Cows meandered while grazing in the afternoon sun.
If it weren’t for the fact that an eighteen-wheeler had passed going in the opposite direction about ten miles back, he’d swear the apocalypse had happened and he was the only fucker left on the planet. Given the current state of affairs and how pissed his family was, perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad situation at the moment.
This time he allowed a smile. Hell yeah, this was the perfect day. All kinds of horsepower under his ass, an open four-lane road, and not one damn call from the family yet.
Out of habit, he checked the rearview mirror. Yep, other than the few cows on the lazy hills to his right, he owned the road. Unfortunately, this was not going to help him find the asshole that’d left his sister high and dry at the church on her wedding day.
The guy had embarrassed not just Clara, but the entire family. For over an hour they all sat, dressed in penguin suits and expensive dresses, waiting for the groom who never showed up.
And boy had they waited, and waited. Bouquets of flowers tied to the ends of each row of pews began to wilt and the people gathered in the overly decorated church fidgeted as the minutes tick-tocked by.
Finally, when the murmuring grew loud and pointed looks were directed at them, his dad was forced to go to the front of the church and announce the wedding was postponed.
Everyone assumed the groom had been in an accident, dying in a ditch or some shit. Calls to hospitals and police made by frantic relatives came up empty. Some people even drove off in an to attempt to find him with no avail.
Not wanting the “what ifs” to continue, Rick admitted what had happened the night before.
And that’s when the screaming began.
After inviting Bruce for a drink, he’d made certain threats.
Wide-eyed nosy guests, who no doubt wanted the goods for their social media accounts, lingered when his sister Clara topped the spectacle by going ballistic. She threw decorations and shrieked at him for what felt like an hour. Just when he thought she’d run out of steam, the litt
le shit got a second wind and beat the crap out of him with her bouquet. Rick made a mental note never to piss off a bride. Women in white were strong as all get out.
So yeah, maybe he’d put the fear of God in the dude and demanded he man up and take care of his sister. Who would have thought a Glock at the temple and forcing the fucker to take double shots of tequila for shits and giggles would run the guy off?
Bruce. Who named their kid that?
Hell, if anything, Clara should be thanking him for ensuring she didn’t marry the pansy-ass fucker.
Rick scratched at the stubble on his jaw and grunted. “Damn it,” he mumbled thinking of all the crying.
His mom hadn’t been too happy with him either. That part he didn’t like.
“Rick, how could you? You broke your sister’s heart.” When a tear had trailed down her cheek, it had made him feel three inches tall.
And so now, after growing a new ass, he was on his way to try to find the weasel and bring him back to marry his love-struck sister. This was definitely a case of love being blind. But, whatever. If she wanted to marry a guy that scared off that easily, so be it. Clara was a spoiled brat anyway.
He’d tried.
The cell phone chimed through the car’s speakers interrupting Garth Brooks’ “Friends in Low Places”.
“Dude, what the hell happened?” his childhood friend, Tobias Hamilton, asked without preamble. “Heard you ran off the groom.”
Damn, it hadn’t taken long for the rumor mill to spread.
“Yeah, pansy ass skipped out on the wedding.” He cursed under his breath. “Don’t know why Clara wants him.”
Tobias was closer to a brother than a friend, Rick and Tobias has been inseparable during their teenage years.
“Where the hell were you? I could’ve used some back up.”
“Oh hell no. I pissed off a would be bride once, she’s still trying to kick my ass,” Tobias said with a dry chuckle. “I was out of town, just got back yesterday and couldn’t make it. Sounds like I missed an interesting time though.”
The Nutcracker Reimagined: A Collection of Christmas Tales Page 35