Epilogue

EPILOGUE

I t had been a week since Alistair returned to her, and Hannah could not have been happier. This was exactly how she imagined her married life, filled with stolen kisses, hidden touches and a deep yearning that could not be easily satiated.

That night, she was combing her hair when she heard a knock on the door. Her heart raced. She would be lying if she said that she hadn't been expecting this knock. But Alistair was still healing. She didn't wish to push him into anything he wasn't ready for.

She tiptoed to the door and opened it. It was him.

"May I come in?" he asked, smiling in a way she had never seen him smile before.

Instead of a reply, she just stepped to the side, allowing him in. Immediately, he closed the door behind him.

"What is it I may–" she started, but she wasn't allowed to finish.

His lips were instantly on hers and her hands fell on his shoulders, for support. Her knees turned to jelly, and she needed him to stay in an upright position. He took a step back. She did the same, without taking her lips off his.

Everything about this was positively sinful. Yet, she wanted more. She never wanted this to end.

"Touch me, Hannah," she heard him murmur, his voice low, needy. "I need yer touch upon me. I have been dreaming of nothing else from the moment I opened me eyes and saw ye."

She wanted to tell him that she felt the same, that she had been yearning for his touch for so long, ever since he made her feel so beautiful, so desirable that night, but she had no words to say anything. Instead, she allowed her fingers to do the talking for her.

She was too eager to control herself. Her fingers trembled as she traversed the line from his shoulders, down to the knot of his robe. She undid it without taking her eyes off of him. The robe slid down his body easily, pooling around his feet.

She could see his naked masculine chest with the corner of her eyes. She could also see the fine trail of hair that led down to a straight line. She dared not look lower. She knew he was wearing nothing. She was curious, but she wanted to wait.

Her fingers rested against his nipples. She opened her palm, pressing on his chest. His skin was so warm, inviting. He smelled like a man ought to smell. She slowly started to glide her fingers down. He inhaled sharply. She stopped. Their eyes met again. He was smiling. So was she.

Everything about this was new to her. His hands suddenly covered her own, guiding them back up. He groaned softly. She felt the vibration of his chest. It made her smile again. With her hands pressed to his naked body, a thought occurred to her. How wonderful he was, how deliciously inviting, and best of all, he was all hers. His heart belonged to her, just like hers belonged to him.

Her entire body vibrated silently, reminding her how long she had yearned for this moment, to be completely alone with him in the confines of their chamber, free to caress each other, without any fear. Free to love each other in every way possible. That was what she wanted. That was what tonight symbolized.

"When ye look at me like that, all I want to do is ravish ye," he whispered into her neck, blowing hot air which made all her hair stand on end.

That is what I want as well…

He suddenly smiled, his eyes turning darker, more mysterious than ever. "I daenae ken if ye are a blessin' or a curse."

For a moment, she wondered if she said that out loud, or if the thought remained solely inside her mind. Not that it mattered. She wanted this as much as he did. Why wait?

"I want to be whatever ye want me to be," she dared to reply, his stare focused onto hers.

This was as much as she could say, before his lips crashed against hers with voracious hunger, demanding everything of her. He had never kissed her like this before. His fingers raked through the back of her hair, again making her entire body erupt in gooseflesh. She reacted to his every touch, every word, every breath. It was so easy for him to awaken every part of her being.

His fingers traveled down her body, easily finding the knot to her own robe. Just like him, she was wearing nothing underneath, as if sensing what might happen this evening. Her robe slid down her body equally effortlessly. Strangely, she did not feel a modicum of shame or embarrassment. This was her husband, who wanted to see her naked, who wanted to claim her and own every part of her. There was nothing else here but a natural sense of love and belonging.

His hands clamped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, without breaking their kiss. She felt his manhood press against her abdomen. Slowly, he slid his other arm underneath her knees, lifting her up into his arms and taking her to the bed in the middle of the chamber. There, he positioned her in the very center of the mattrass as if she were a precious porcelain figurine that might break if he handled it too roughly.

He stood above her, towering over her, his stare pinned to hers, not allowing her to look away even for a single moment. As if she could do such a thing. He smiled at her. There was so much promise in that smile. So much hunger. She understood that feeling because she felt the same.

Unable to resist any longer, she looked down at his manhood. Thick and long, it pointed straight at her, hanging from his impressively masculine body. Everything about him was perfect. There was no other word for him. She resisted the urge to gasp, to touch it. For now, she just wanted to look at it. As she did so, a surge of energy exploded somewhere between her thighs, and a tidal wave of warmth spread throughout her entire body.

"Ye are pure perfection," he told her, as if able to read her mind. His devilish smile assured her that this would be a night filled with pleasures. She could not wait. "I love ye so much, Hannah…" The sound of his voice telling her those words only heightened her need.

"I love ye, too, Alistair," she replied.

He slowly lowered himself to his hands and knees, hovering just above her.

"I want to make ye feel good," he murmured, going slightly down, leaving a whisp of hot hair just above her right nipple. It pebbled instantly, aching for more. "I want to make ye feel like ye never wish to get out of this bed."

"I already daenae wish to leave," she breathed heavily, closing her eyes, allowing pleasure to wash over her once again.

He focused all of his attention on her breast now. He cupped it gently with his hand, then allowed the tips of his fingers to graze over the pebbled nipple. Her breasts ached for more, for his touch and a deep place between her thighs was throbbing with desperate need.

She gasped loudly when he opened his mouth and welcomed her nipple into the wetness of his lips and tongue. He sucked hard, allowing her to feel that pull, that suction, the lash of his tongue over her skin. Everything about the way he touched her was pure perfection. He read her perfectly. He strummed her like the finest instrument, and all she could do was moan in pleasure. Every fear, every insecurity she ever had about herself vanished, in the blink of an eye.

At that moment, with her eyes still closed, she felt his fingers between her thighs. Memory flooded her. She knew what pleasure what about to follow. His light touch was as soft as a feather. It tickled her. It brought pleasure. It made her relax and melt into his very hands.

She felt as if all of her senses were awakened at this moment. His scent was filling her nostrils. His touch was gliding up and down her skin. His tongue was flicking against her hardened nipple. His mouth enshrouded it with warmth and wetness. The very heat of his body next to hers was enough to drive her to the brink of madness.

His finger parted her wet folds, easily finding her aching, throbbing center. She moaned loudly again, her back arching, her legs spreading instinctively to open up to him and welcome him inside her. His finger struck her gently at first, and her hips rose from the bed even more. When she opened her eyes, she saw him smiling.

"Ye like this, me love?" he asked, although no answer was necessary. Her body reacted to his every touch perfectly. She not only liked it, she loved everything he was doing. She wanted more and more.

His lips were on her other nipple, while his finger kept on applying pressure to her swollen bud. Friction quickly brought her to the edge, and she exploded without any warning, right into the palm of his hand. While she was riding on the pleasure wave, his teeth nipped at her nipple gently. They tugged at it, teasing, mixing pleasure with a little bit of pain.

He pulled his hand away suddenly, leaving her throbbing for more. Her eyes opened widely, her entire body aflame. He spread her legs a little more with his knee, adjusting himself between them. She could feel his manhood pressing against her still palpitating entrance, a sensation new and strange and so very thrilling.

He lowered his forehead to hers. "Ye are so wet, Hannah…"

The sound of these naughty words was more than she could handle. She wanted to tell him how wonderful he made her feel, how her body yearned for more, but no words could ever describe this feeling accurately. That was why, once again, she allowed her body to do the talking. Her hands rested on his back, pulling him closer to hers. He smiled, understanding her gesture.

"Do ye want me to make ye mine?" he asked lovingly.

"Me heart is already yers," she smiled. "Me body is waitin' its turn."

"We shouldnae make it wait any longer then," he teased, much to her pleasure.

His breathing became longer, steadier as he looked down at her. His eyes were now darker than ever, as waves of his curls fell over his face. She had never thought him more handsome than he was at this very moment. And he was all hers. The thought filled her with joy, with pride, with emotions beyond description.

"It might hurt a wee bit," he admitted tenderly, speaking against her mouth. "If it does, tell me to stop and I will."

"Nay," she shook her head. "I never want ye to stop. Never."

Hearing those words undid them both. Their foreheads were still touching, his lips pressed against hers in a passionate kiss, his tongue burying into her mouth. Without thinking, she locked her legs around his waist, almost as if afraid that he might stop without being told to.

His hips thrusted, his manhood slowly slipped inside of her, stretching her, making her adjust to his size. She felt as if a star exploded right before her very eyes, sending a million little shiny dust particles all around them. There was a little pain. There was so much pleasure. Much more than she could take all at once. Her insides were on fire. Her breath was stolen from her chest. Her mind was blank. There was nothing inside of her, nothing but this wonderful feeling of being his.

Then, his body started to move slowly. She followed his rhythm. She didn't know what to do, but her body did. So, she allowed instinct to take over. She had become delirious with hunger for him, for his lips. There was nothing else inside her mind but the picture of him, her husband.

He kept thrusting inside of her, harder and harder, listening to the sound of her moans, pressed against his lips. She clung to him as if this would be the last thing they would ever do together. She didn't want this moment to end ever. Her heart yearned for him, all the pent-up fury found its way out and spilled into their lovemaking.

He read her mind better than she could. He slid his hand underneath her neck and grabbed a fistful of her hair, clutching at it gently. His hips pumped into her fervently now, deeper than before. This moment of full consummation was something beyond comprehension. This communion of souls, of complete belonging.

She grabbed at him, as his pace hastened more and more. She followed suit, moving her body in unison with his. She was so close; she could feel it. His tongue slid into her mouth, exploring, demanding more every single time. Everything about him being inside her titillated her, it pushed her so dangerously to the brink.

Without warning, she was thrown into the abyss and all she could feel was a tidal wave of ecstasy, completely taking over her. This was a different sort of pleasure than the one he gave her before. This was more complete. This made her fully his, and him fully hers.

A moment later, his body followed suit. It stiffened. She listened to sound of his groans, as he thrust into her deeply, pausing after every move. His breathing was ragged, short. Just like her, he could barely catch his breath. Pulling his manhood out of her with his hand, he slid to the side, next to her.

They were both lying on their backs, unable to say anything. Her heart was thundering throughout her body, the sound reverberating in her ears. She felt she suddenly became deaf and blind, aware of only what was happening inside of her, forgetting about the world around her. But Alistair's voice quickly pulled her back.

"Hannah, me love…"

That was all he said as he pulled her close to him and wrapped her into an embrace. His voice trailed off, and she wasn't certain if he did end up saying something more. If he did, it needed no response. Her presence, her embrace said it all.

She pressed her ear to his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. She had no idea when she fell asleep. It didn't matter. She was exactly where she wanted to be, where she belonged.

She was home.

The End?