The Lion (Clan Ross of the Hebrides Book 1) by Hildie McQueen (ereader for android .TXT) 📕

the woman started to speak, the man yanked her back. “Ye have done enough. Let us go.”

Already the elderly couple was surrounded by the women and being fed. The woman sat next to Ella, who was showing her some sort of knitting. It was endearing to see them both smiling as they talked.

Chapter Fourteen

It was late when the bed sunk under Darach’s weight. Isobel had watched him undress, enjoying the sight of his strong hard body. By the time he neared the bed, he was aroused by her perusal.

For these few precious days, Isobel allowed herself to think that Darach was exclusively hers. She pretended she and her new husband were to be happy together, just the two of them.

When he pulled her against him, while pushing her nightgown from her shoulders, she pressed her lips to his chest trailing her tongue around his right nipple. His sharp intake of breath was enough to encourage her to do more. She nipped at the firm tip and then pressed her mouth to the center of his chest trailing kissed up until reaching the base of his throat.

Darach threw his head back, giving her full access. He moaned when she suckled lightly on the sensitive skin.

Already he prodded at her sex with the hard tip of his manhood, pulling her leg over his hip. Cupping her bottom, he pulled her up to make access easier.

Isobel took his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, combing her fingers through his hair.

Lovemaking with Darach had become an addiction. When she wasn’t with him it was all she could think of. The lack of control was why she’d thrown herself into projects, in hopes it would distract her from the want.

“I need ye,” she murmured into his ear. “I cannot wait.” Her core was on fire, smoldering, and liquid.

“Ye have me, wife,” Darach replied.

“Darach,” Isobel began but then quieted when he pushed her back and drove in with force. Both gasped at the sensation and Isobel could not keep from rocking her hips urging him to move.

Darach pulled out and plunged back in, each time sinking into her body fully. Isobel raked her nails down his back until reaching his bottom. She pressed her palms against each side and pulled him deeper with each thrust.

“Ah!” she cried out nearing her peak, the overwhelming sensations centering at her core.

With deep grunts, Darach began moving faster, his body fluid, each movement graceful and yet purely primal.

Reaching release first, he shuddered while spilling. All went to black and Isobel clung to him as she too lost control.

Darach pulled her onto his chest and pressed a kiss on her brow. Both breathed heavily, his chest lifting and falling quickly under her.

“Are ye fulfilled?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure if he meant physically or as his wife. In both cases, at the moment, she was. “Aye, I am. Ye?”

“Very much so. Ye surprise me.”

Isobel lifted her head and studied him. Darach was always handsome, however, at the moment relaxed from lovemaking he was breathtakingly gorgeous. There was a flush to his face and his lips were swollen from their kisses. “Why do I surprise ye?”

“Ye surprise me because of yer ardor, yer willingness to allow yer passion free reign with me.”

She continued to study him.

He gave her a quizzical look. “What is it?”

“Ye are very handsome,” she replied honestly.

Darach chuckled. “Ye say it as if it were yer first time to think it.”

“I have thought it before. Today, however, to me ye look more so.” Isobel frowned. “I cannot imagine why.”

“Hmm,” he said noncommittally.

In truth, Isobel had often wondered about why she did not hold back with Darach. Perhaps it was that for now, she trusted him fully. He’d been in bed with her each night, and throughout the day she was aware of where he was at all times.

Things would change soon as each went about their duties, but for the first fortnight of marriage, they were to remain near one another. It was a Macdonald tradition Isobel’s parents had demanded and Darach had agreed to. The first few days had passed much too quickly.

“Rest now, we are to ride to the furthest village tomorrow.”

She wanted to ask if it was where Lilia was, but Isobel had promised herself not to mention her name to Darach until the time came that she suspected he sought her out. The idea of his body being given to anyone other than her made Isobel want to scream. She pushed the thought away as quickly as it came.

“Ye are thinking,” Darach said, his voice groggy. “Sleep.”

“I am not sure I can. Beatrice leaves the day after tomorrow. Can we put off going to the village until then? I will need the distraction.”

“Ella will be sad. She enjoys yer sister’s company,” Darach said.

Isobel nodded. “I had hoped she would capture one of yer brother’s attention, but so far none show interest. And she doesn’t either.”

“She’s not gotten to know Caelan or Duncan, as neither lives here. Duncan is coming to take my place when I travel to North Uist.”

“Who travels with ye?” Isobel’s chest tightened. It would be the first time they’d be apart, and she wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone.

“Ten guardsmen, perhaps a few more. I cannot bring my brothers as each has duties. We must be prepared in case of attack, if my meeting with the Uisdein doesn’t go well.”

Isobel sat up. “What if he tries to kill ye?”

“Duncan will take my place as laird,” Darach replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and what she was worried about.

Blowing out a breath, she smacked his chest. “I do not care about that. What about me? Ye cannot possibly put yer life in danger and leave me a widow so soon.”

His lips curved. “Does this mean, ye care for me wife?”

“It is not a laughing matter. I mean it Darach. Ye should bring many more men, or better yet, send a representative.”

“This is a