Epilogue

EPILOGUE

K eith was already climbing into the carriage. He had been thinking of nothing but Celia since he had left, and many memories of Celia’s body entwined with had tormented him. The chance to relive such memories now was too much to refuse. Not only that, but the chance to touch her again, knowing she loved him, meant so much more.

Once she climbed into the carriage too, he shut the door and bolted it, then reached for her. She was already moving toward him, pulling off her pelisse and crawling into his lap. In his haste, he practically pushed the pelisse off her. It landed in a damp pile on the floor.

“Completely bare this time,” Celia whispered to him. “No shirt—nothing, Keith.”

“Well, I am following yer orders for a change, aren’t I?” he said, deepening his voice. The smile that spread across her lips was intoxicating.

“Then waistcoat and shirt… off.”

He gladly followed her orders, pulling the damp garments over his head and tossing them on the floor, where they joined her pelisse. She stood in the small space the carriage afforded and unlaced her gown, pushing it down around her ankles before she stepped out of it.

The rain had seeped into her corset and chemise, so the material stuck to her long legs and every curve of her body. Keith watched her, slack-jawed as his length hardened.

“I have missed this,” he whispered.

“You’ve been gone less than two days.”

“And ye haven’t missed it?” he asked as she crawled back into his lap, her lips finding his own.

She nipped his bottom lip, before taking it fully in her mouth and sucking on it in a way that made him rock-hard.

“I didn’t say that,” she whispered, pulling back. “Trousers, off.”

He reached down beneath her chemise and unfastened his trousers, watching as she unlaced her corset. When she struggled with it, he let go of his trousers to help her, but she leaned back.

“I thought it was your turn to obey?”

He practically growled at her words.

“See?” she whispered. “Maybe you just needed the right woman to make you obey.”

He pushed his trousers all the way down, kicking them off with his boots so that he sat naked on the bench. She dropped the corset and then lifted her chemise over her head, using it momentarily to hide her breasts from his view as she pressed her hips against his own, teasing him.

“Ah, Celia.” He moaned, his hands moving to her hips, wishing to feel more of her.

“Oh no.” She swatted his hands away. “You want to hold on to something? You hold on to the bench.”

He chuckled deeply, gripping the bench as she slid down.

“I love ye, lass,” he whispered.

She had had this effect on him from the very beginning, making him both wild and putty in her hands. He was beginning to wonder why they hadn’t reversed roles before.

She knelt between his legs and lowered her head to his crotch.

She knows this…

Entranced, he watched her as she pleasured him. At first, she was tentative, experimental, trying different things, but then she took him completely in her mouth.

He held on to the bench hard. He longed to bury his fingers in her hair, but this moment was about her control and him obeying, so he held himself back.

She drove him to his edge. He was soon growling his pleasure, in danger of spilling inside of her, when she leaned back.

“My turn,” she whispered and then crawled into his lap.

He reached for her waist this time, on instinct, and fortunately, she didn’t stop him. She gripped his shoulders instead, finding her balance as she lifted one foot onto the bench and lowered her other knee beside his thigh, aligning her center perfectly with his own.

She rocked herself against him, not looking away once. He just stared into those green eyes, stunned that she could now be his forever.

Then she sank down onto him. His length slid inside her, and he gasped at the sensation. She did too, rocking her hips at once, still not quite taking all of him inside her but teasing him with the promise of what was to come.

“Celia,” he groaned.

“Patience,” she repeated his old words back to him, then molded her lips to his.

He kissed her deeply, dominating her, feeling her tongue with his own. Old habits died hard, and he couldn’t resist taking control of the kiss. She didn’t seem to mind but rocked her hips faster so that suddenly, she took all of him. He sank down onto the bench so that she could move faster still.

She broke the kiss and gripped his shoulders hard, using his support to be able to move. Intoxicated by the sight of her, her body glistening with rainwater and sweat, he felt the pleasure spreading through his whole body. He was so near his peak already, but he wouldn’t let it happen yet. This was their first time after they had said they loved each other. He wasn’t going to let it end too quickly.

He had to take hold of her waist and lift her off him.

“Oh,” she gasped in amazement, smiling as she still gripped his shoulders. “Had enough?” she teased.

“Not by a long shot. Sorry, lass, I want control back.”

She giggled in such a delighted way that it was a wonder he didn’t climax right there and then.

He stood, still carrying her, then turned her around in the confines of the carriage and laid her flat on the bench. Looming over her, he bent her legs back so they were near her head. With her body completely open to him, he entered her again.

Her cheeks pinkened in perfect pleasure, her lips forming a perfect ‘O’ as she moaned his name. He couldn’t stop thrusting into her, couldn’t stop feeling every inch of her.

Reaching down to where they were connected, he placed one finger on her most sensitive spot. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. It was the sight he had craved—Celia so completely undone by what he could do to her.

How could he have lived without this in Scotland? How could he have even considered living without Celia… his wife?

She’s mine, for as long as she wants to be.

He thrust into her faster and harder, determined to push her over the edge.

She was getting close to the peak now. He could sense it in the way she moaned, in the intensity with which they were rocking the carriage, and how her body was tightening.

No yet… a little bit longer.

He pulled out of her again, loving the way she groaned in frustration.

“Nearly, sweetheart. Very nearly.”

He pushed down her legs and then grabbed her waist, turning her around so that she was kneeling on the bench, with the palms of her hand planted against the carriage wall. He nudged her legs further apart as she leaned forward, exposing her rear and that perfect curve of her back just as he had imagined.

He teased her for a minute or so with his fingers. She was panting, rocking her hips against him.

“Don’t taunt me!” she begged.

“As ye wish.” He moved toward her, sliding his length inside her until he hit that sweet spot. She threw her head back as she moaned his name loudly.

At that moment, Keith wouldn’t have cared if everyone in the house had heard her and looked out the windows to see the carriage rocking. All he wanted was in this carriage now. He needed this moment. He needed Celia to know that he was here and not going anywhere. They would always have this.

He moved faster and faster, his hands gripping her hips and then moving to explore the curve of her back and her rear.

She was nearing her climax again. He could definitely feel it now. She pressed her head against the carriage wall as her body tightened around him.

That squeezing sent him over the edge. He felt the release, the unbelievable pleasure that reached every nerve ending in his body as he was catapulted into oblivion. He rode those waves of pleasure, not halting for one second, not until he could feel everything start to calm.

He kept them connected, refusing to pull away from her just yet as they both panted and caught their breaths. Slowly, she lifted her head and fell back against him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close as he pressed a kiss to her neck.

“I take it this means I’m forgiven, lass?” he whispered, planting small, open-mouthed kisses up the curve of her neck.

“For being a fool and running away? Well… nearly.”

“Nearly?” he said sharply, lifting his head in alarm.

She laughed at his reaction, then rocked her hips back against his. The way she moved was already making him think of taking her again. He might need a few minutes, but once he was hard again, he would certainly be happy to take her again in this carriage.

“I may need a little more persuading to completely forgive you. Is that something you can give me, husband?” she teased, reaching behind her.

One hand found his hip, and the other gripped the top of his thigh, and then she ran her fingers down the long muscle.

“Persuade me a little more?” She rocked her hips against him again. The pleasure coiled in his lower abdomen.

“Whatever ye wish for, wife, ye shall have it.”

The End?