Page 57 of To Defy a Highland Duke

She wouldn’t question how it had come to be, but instead revel in the tremendous gift she’d been given—a second chance at love, and a blessing she truly never expected.

“I dinna want to hurt yer poor mouth,” Keane whispered, scorching her with his hot gaze as one large hand tenderly framed her jaw.

“You could never hurt me, Keane.”

“Nae, lass, never intentionally.”

His lips moved over hers, firm and warm. He tasted of whisky, for what was a first-footing without whisky? He nudged her lips apart, and his tongue swept hers.

She parted her lips, welcoming the invasion, craving his warmth and taste.

Angling away, she smiled into his eyes, and her heart melted at the adoration she saw there. How humbling that this man loved her. A duke and a laird who could choose any woman had chosen her.

She took his hand and kissed the palm and then pressed her mouth to the back of the firm flesh. He smelled of horse, and leather, and Keane’s unique rugged male essence.

A smattering of ebony hair tickled her nose, and she suspected the same dark hair covered much of his virile form. Damp heat pooled between her legs, and her mouth went dry at the delicious thought.

“I have an answer to the question you asked me earlier today,” she said, else she yank him to the floor and have her way with him. Never had she hungered for a man, for the joining of their bodies, as she did for Keane. She was starving, and only he could satisfy her need.

Delight twinkled in his heavy-lidded hazel eyes sweeping down her scantily clad form. “Do ye now? And dare I hope ’tis an answer I shall like?”

She grinned as she uncurled her cramped legs and stood, reveling in the power of her womanhood. Relishing the knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“Aye, I think you’ll be pleased,” she said over her shoulder as she led him to the big, canopied bed. Every nerve vibrated with anticipation, lust, and love. So much love that tears pricked behind her eyelids and tightened her throat.

“Marjorie?” Keane’s eyes had gone impossibly dark, the angles of his face etched in marble. “Ye’ve nae doubts? I willna deny I want ye so bad my body is afire for ye, but dinna do this out of gratitude. I’ll wait until ye are ready, nae matter how long ye need, love. I’m nae a patient man, but for ye, I’ll learn to be.”

Marjorie smoothed a hand over the midnight stubble covering his hard jaw. She loved the sensation rasping against her palm, imagined that prickly beard abrading her as he pressed his mouth to her neck, her breasts, her belly… Everywhere.

Gratitude had nothing, nothing, to do with what they were about to do.

Lust and need and want and desire. Aye, all of those. But most of all, a soul-rendering love like she’d never known.

“I shall always and forever be grateful for what you did tonight, Keane, but this isn’t about that. I want you in my bed, tonight and every night for as long as these Highlands exist. I want to give myself to you in body, in soul, and to take your name as mine.”

“Och, leannan.” Issuing a guttural groan, half a sigh of relief and half a moan of pleasure, he swept her into his arms, tumbling them both onto the soft bed.

Playing her hands over the rigid curves and divots of his marvelous back and shoulders, she savored his weight pressing her into the soft mattress.

“I love ye, Marjorie.”

He nuzzled the sensitive spot between her chin and collarbone and she giggled. “That tickles.”

“Och, so the English lass is ticklish, is she?”

She nodded as she swept a lock of hair off his forehead. “Terribly, I fear.”

His expression turned serious as his gaze fell on the chafed, red marks encircling her wrists. He brought each one to his mouth and pressed a reverent kiss to the damaged flesh. “When I saw ye tied, yer face bruised—”

She put two fingertips to his lips. “Shh. ’Tis over, and we are fine. I don’t want to think about that right now. When I recall this Hogmanay, I want how much I love you and our first joining to be what comes to mind.”

That was all the encouragement Keane needed. Between bold caresses and sizzling kisses, they stripped each other bare. She wasn’t a shy maiden, but a woman who knew her body and a man’s as well. Knew the pleasure that awaited them.

There wasn’t any need for extended foreplay for Marjorie was ready for him, and given the heavy member jutting toward his taut belly, Keane was unquestionably ready for her as well.

They came together, swift and sure, her legs and womanhood open to him.

Both gasped aloud at Keane’s initial penetration, and when completion hurtled them over the edge into bliss several minutes later, their simultaneous cries filled the chamber.