Page 95 of Claimed By a Ruthless Scot
Duncan drew a breath, as though steadying himself not from uncertainty, but from the weight of what he was choosing to say.
“It feels…” he began, searching for something he did not often need to name, “as though we left something unfinished.”
Elaina’s breath caught softly.
“I will leave,” he told her tenderly, “if ye ask it of me.”
The words were clear. It was an offering, a choice placed entirely in her hands.
“But if ye dinnae,” he continued, and as he spoke, his voice softened in a way that made her heart swell, “if ye allow me tae stay…” He paused, and her heart ached for him, for his closeness, for the rest of his thoughts laid bare before her. “I will cherish ye, every moment, every day I am given.”
Elaina felt the words settle somewhere deep within her, unraveling what little certainty she had left.
This was the moment. This was the choice she had been trying to hold onto: leave and protect him or do what she believed was right. All she had to do was tell him to go.
Her lips parted, but no words came, because her heart had already answered.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she shook her head. It wasn’t to show refusal, but surrender. Duncan did not move at first, as though giving her time to change her mind, to take it back.
She did not.
He stepped closer and the distance between them disappeared. Elaina’s breath got caught in her throat as he knelt beside the bath, the edge of it no longer a barrier but something easily crossed. The warmth of the water shifted as he moved nearer, the air between them changing once more.
His hand lifted, slower this time. It came to rest gently against her cheek. Her hand rose instead, resting lightly against his wrist, as though she needed to be certain he was truly there.
Then, he leaned in. The kiss was slow, and Elaina melted into it. She could feel the tension she had been carrying all day slip away piece by piece as she allowed herself to feel him. The warmth of the water, the closeness of him, the quiet certainty in the way he held her… all of it blurred together.
Her fingers curled slightly against him, her breath softening as she leaned closer, no longer holding herself apart. She did not think of leaving. She did not think of danger. She did not think of what came next.
All she could focus on washim.
With his lips still pressed to hers, she felt his arms wrap around her wet body, holding it tight. She smiled against his kiss as he lifted her from the bathtub and into the air. Her open palm pressed against his muscular chest. She pulled away only for a moment.
“Duncan, what—” she started, but she wasn’t allowed to finish.
“Shhh,” he whispered seductively. “Let me show ye how I want tae cherish ye…”
His lips toyed with hers with devotion and almost reverent tenderness. It was that exact tenderness that made her believethat he meant every word he had spoken to her, and more. It was as if he were promising himself to her over and over again with his lips and his tongue, as he slowly walked toward the bed with her in his arms.
Finally, she felt him lower her onto the oak bed, and the chilly coolness of the sheets stood in stark contrast with the heat of his body pressed against hers. He pulled away only for a moment, sliding his shirt off of him in one effortless movement, then he sent if flying to the floor.
The sight made her chuckle. He gazed at her then.
“I love that laugh of yers,” he murmured softly.
“It is because of ye,” she whispered back.
She wanted to tell him how he brightened her world like the sun itself, how he knew how to make everything right, but she couldn’t think of a single thing to say when she felt his lips upon hers again. His hands traversed every inch of her body, as if he wanted to remember every curve, every slope, every inch of her skin with just the tips of his fingers.
She closed her eyes when his lips traveled down her neck, kissing an invisible line downward to her nipples, taking one of them into his mouth.
“Oh…” she gasped, biting her lower lip.
Warmth washed over her. Her nipples hardened under his tongue, and she could feel his fingers sliding even lower, passing her bellybutton, only to stop between her thighs. The place deep down inside clenched with heat. She felt as if her entire body was on fire, pulsating with yearning.
He slid between her wet seam, awakening every nerve inside of her. She had never felt more beautiful, more desirable than when she was in his arms. Every sense was heightened. She could smell his skin, she could taste his lips, and she could touch him. She couldn’t stop gripping him, grabbing his hair, pulling him closer to her, as if letting go meant she would never have him in her arms again.
When he slid his finger inside of her, she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes.
