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Passion soared in him, chasing away all his worries and misery, and as it did, his need for his wife grew in leaps and bounds. While he could easily sit there and enjoy, he needed more. He needed to be inside her.

“Oria,” he said and when she looked up at him, her tongue tracing her lips, licking the taste of him, that was it. “Straddle me,” he ordered impatiently.

Oria didn’t protest, her need had turned to an ache that she knew only having him inside her would ease. She hurried over his lap and being as wet as she was, he slipped easily inside her and she let out a moan of satisfaction that rippled around the room.

She braced her hands on his wide shoulders and planted her feet firmly on the floor, then she began to move. The pace came naturally, starting slow so that she could enjoy feeling him slide in and out of her, then the tempo changed and she was moving faster, her moans no more a ripple but full and robust.

His hand and stump found their way to her backside and he forced the pace to change once again, fast and with a force that demanded from the both of them.

“God, wife,” Royden groaned. “You’re going to kill me, but I’ll die happy.”

“You’re not dying without me,” she said and dropped her had back and moaned loudly.

It truly felt like he was on the precipice of a tremendous fall he didn’t know if he’d be able to survive and he didn’t care. And he didn’t intend to go alone. “We’ll die together.”

Oria brought her head up, her eyes going to her husband’s. “Aye, together. Always together.”

She gripped his shoulders and rode him hard and fast and in seconds they both fell off the edge together, tumbling down and down in an endless, explosive climax that had Oria collapsing against him in a near faint.

Royden squeezed his eyes and let his groan fade away as the last sparks of his climax drifted off. That’s when he realized his wife felt much to lifeless against him.

“Oria,” he said anxiously, his hand moving up along her damp back to shake her shoulder gently. When she remained lifeless, his heart began to pound in his chest and he shook her harder. “Oria!” Relief flooded him when he heard her groan softly.

With effort and keeping her head rested on her husband’s shoulder, she looked up at him. “We’re alive?”

Royden laughed. “Aye, we’re alive.”

“I thought I’d died and gone to heaven,” she said. “It felt that great.”

He hugged her and laughed again. “On that we agree.”

She yawned, then said, “I could sleep right here.”

He felt the same, but knew that wouldn’t last. Besides, the light, sheen of sweat covering them both would have their bodies cold in no time.

“The bed would be more comfortable,” he said.

“You inside me is when I’m most comfortable,” she said and yawned again.

It continued to startle him as to how much he loved his wife. He gently maneuvered her off him and up into his arms and carried her to bed, pulling the blanket over her.

“Where are you going?”

“To stoke the fire since once I join you, I’m not leaving your side again.”

“You better not,” Oria ordered and watched him tend the hearth, then pulled the blanket back when he got near the bed. “Hurry, I need warming.”

They were soon wrapped snug around each other and sound asleep.

Oria made her way to the cottage Wren had chosen for her and Parlan. More hands than needed helped with the repairs. Still though, Royden and his da pitched in to help. It was what made them such fine leaders. They worked side-by-side with the clan and the people appreciated it.

A day or more and the cottage would be ready. Oria would miss having the couple at the keep. This last week, having them in the keep, had been wonderful. Oria imagined it must have been similar to when Arran and Raven had been there. She had been envious of Royden’s family. It had only been her and her da since she’d been eight years. It was nice to have a larger family, which was why she hoped that Royden and she would have many bairns. The keep would always be filled with talk and laughter.

She smiled when she spotted her husband and his da working together to attach the repaired front door. He returned the smile when he saw her and not wanting to disturb him, she went and joined Wren by the side of the cottage, staring at a plot of freshly turned soil.

“I’m not sure if this size will suffice for my garden,” Wren said before turning to look at Oria.

“That would depend on how much planting room you have need of,” Oria said, though thought the plot sizeable.


Tags: Donna Fletcher Highland Promise Trilogy Romance