Page 150 of The Laird's Masked Passion

The table creaked beneath them. Footsteps passed somewhere along the corridor. Colin went still only long enough to listen. They faded.

He looked at Elspeth. Her pulse fluttered visibly beneath the skin of her throat. Excitement brightened her eyes, but there was no hesitation in them.

He could have stopped.

Heshouldhavestopped.

The question must have shown upon his face, because Elspeth answered without words. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she pulled him closer.

The last of his restraint vanished. Colin kissed her with all the fierceness he had attempted to contain. She met him without fear, yielding nothing, demanding everything. Her hands remained tangled in his hair, holding him to her as though she would not permit him to retreat behind caution again.

He adjusted himself between her legs and slid inside of her effortlessly, watching the moment of claiming seize her completely. She gasped loudly, gripping at him, as if he might disappear if she did not hold on tightly.

Keeping her up with his hands, he claimed her with each thrust, feeling the wet warmth of her desire mirroring his own. Her moans mingled with the sounds of their unison, and all he could do was relinquish control of himself and his body to this woman who had become everything to him.

When at last they went still, Elspeth remained seated among the wreckage of his carefully ordered table. Her arms encircled his neck, and her forehead rested against his.

Colin kept both hands at her waist. One lay gently beside the wound beneath her ribs, guarding it by instinct. The other held her with more force than tenderness required, confessing what he could not yet shape into words.

Papers covered the floor. Books lay displaced. A bottle of ink rested upon its side, its contents creeping slowly across an unfinished letter.

The study had once belonged entirely to duty. Now it bore evidence of her everywhere.

Usually, disorder demanded correction. He would gather every paper, restore every book, and rebuild the disciplined shape of the room before allowing another man to see it.

This time, he did nothing. Colin drew her closer and buried his face against her neck. He breathed in the warmth of her skin and held her as though need had stripped away every defense he possessed, leaving only one truth behind.

She was alive and she was in his arms.

The courtyard had become a confusion of horses, voices, and badly supervised luggage. Men called across one another while servants carried saddlebags, blankets, food, and enough weapons to suggest Niall and Domhnall intended to conquer half the Highlands on their journeys home.

Elspeth stood beside Margaret near the steps.

“I wish ye didnae have tae leave,” Elspeth admitted.

Margaret took both her hands. “Nor dae I. But Domhnall must gather men, and I have learned that allowing him tae travel alone encourages poor decisions.”

“I thought that was Niall’s influence.”

“It is shared generously among them.”

Elspeth smiled, though sadness tightened her throat. Their friendship had formed with such ease that it felt older than a few days. Margaret understood the loneliness of being married into a clan, the fear hidden beneath a husband’s command, and thestrange work of making a place where none had been prepared for you.

“Ye will write?” Elspeth asked.

“Often enough tae inconvenience every messenger between our castles.”

They embraced warmly. Beyond Margaret’s shoulder, Colin stood with Niall and Domhnall beside the horses. He was listening to Domhnall speak, but his gaze moved across the courtyard and found Elspeth.

It lingered. She lifted one brow. His mouth nearly curved before Niall struck his shoulder and demanded his attention.

Elspeth felt warmth spread through her.

Helovedher.

The knowledge remained new enough to startle her each time it returned.

A servant approached from behind. “Me lady?”