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

woman so much as he did Isobel. Although he knew it was his right to take her body, he would wait for her to be willing. Forcing himself upon her would only make things worse and no matter how much he ached for her, he was not willing to make a second mistake.

The corridor loomed long as he headed to the bedchambers. He stopped in front of Isobel’s door and then turned to the one they’d shared. Still undecided, he reached for the door handle to Isobel’s chamber.

Upon entering, he couldn’t see anything. The room was pitch black, with no fire in the hearth. He lit a candle that was on the table next to the door, giving him enough light to see.

The room was bare, empty of his wife and her items.

Panic squeezed at his chest. Had Isobel left without him knowing? No, it was impossible. The guards would have surely stopped her and informed him.

Just then Ramey turned the corner toward him. “Good night, Laird. Do ye wish assistance?”

“No, go seek yer bed.”

When the man turned away, Darach called his name. “Do ye know where my wife is?”

The valet gave him a strange look. “I cannot say for certain, Laird. Have ye looked in yer bedchamber?”

“Sleep well,” Darach said, dismissing him. The last thing he needed was a witness upon learning his wife had left or moved farther away to keep him from joining her at night.

When he opened the door to his bedchamber, he immediately looked to the bed. On his bed was Isobel sleeping soundly.

He then gathered the courage to look around the room. Her comb and ribbons were on the dressing table, her robe over the trunk at the end of the bed. He walked to the wardrobe on the far side and opened it to find all her gowns had been returned.

Unsure of what to do since for the last several nights, his routine had been disrupted, he sat down for a moment.

“Darach?”

Isobel was sitting up looking at him. “Are ye coming to bed?”

“Aye.” Overcome with emotion, he couldn’t formulate any other words in that moment.

The light from the fire reflected about the room, casting a wavy pattern across the space. Isobel looked like a siren, her hair loose about her shoulders, and nightdress untied at the throat so that the tops of her breasts were revealed.

“I cannot keep from ye,” Darach admitted. “I desire to make love to ye until the sun rises.”

Her tongue darted out, licking first her top lip and then the bottom. “I ached for ye, Darach, so very much.”

Needing no further encouragement, he ripped the clothing from his body, tossing it wherever it fell, uncaring of anything other than to go to the beauty in his bed.

Their mouths met in an urgent kiss of passion and need, while he helped her pull the nightdress off.

The feel of her soft body against his was almost enough to send him to release, but he held back, needing time to relish what he’d been missing for so long. Isobel against him, under him, writhing and calling his name.

“Take me, I cannot wait,” Isobel urged. “I am on fire.”

“As am I,” Darach said slipping his hand between her legs to stroke her sex. She would come fast the first time, he needed her to find a fast release so that they could climb her second crest together.

When her nails dug into his shoulders, he knew she was close. Darach lowered, trailing his tongue down the center of her body until reaching her apex. Then he took her sex into his mouth and lapped at the engorged nub with the tip of his tongue.

Isobel lifted up from the bed with cries of passion that were like music to his ears. “Oh Darach!” she called out, her entire body shivering. He blew on her sex and suckled at the center causing her to shudder in a hard release.

As she settled, he kissed her thighs, her hips, and her stomach, allowing her time to catch her breath. When he sought her mouth, his restraint gave way and he pushed inside her.

The sensation was like no other, he gasped and blew out short breaths to keep from releasing then and there.

He drove in deeper before moving out and thrusting back into her beautiful body.

“Yes,” Isobel urged as he continued driving in and out of her, sinking deeper and deeper, unable to keep from losing control.

The release was long and so overwhelming, he cried out, Darach’s entire body tensing with uncontrollable shudders. Isobel writhed under him, lost as well, in her own cresting.

When Darach collapsed over her, he was drenched in sweat, their bodies slick with the result of lovemaking and he loved it.

She bit his shoulder playfully. “That was agreeable.”

“Aye, I found it pleasant,” he teased back.

They both chuckled, but quieted when he took her mouth. He meant to keep to his word to make love to her until the sun rose.

“I am happy that ye are going with yer husband to Barra to visit the MacNeil,” Beatrice said, watching as Isobel packed. “It will be just myself and Ella here.”

Isobel smiled at her sister. “Lady Mariel is going as well; she is a MacNeil like our mother and has family there.”

Beatrice nodded. “When Mother and I visit in the spring, we will go to Barra to visit as well. Perhaps, ye and Lady Mariel will go with us.”

“I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” Isobel said, meaning it. “I still cannot believe our parents allowed ye to remain. Whatever did ye put in that letter?”

With a secretive expression, Beatrice stood and then smiled. “Ye look happy sister.”

“I am content for now. Happiness does not feel far away.”

Just then the door opened and Darach entered.

“I was just leaving,” Beatrice said and, after a saucy wink, walked out.

Isobel accepted a kiss to the temple from Darach. “I cannot go for a walk just yet. I have much to do. Perhaps one of yer brothers can