lowered her eyelashes, shielding her own emotions from him. A second later she jumped when his hand landed on top of her thigh and gave it a squeeze.
Curan chuckled once more. “Careful, Barras, I did warn you that my sister is not meek.”
“Was that a warning then?” Gordon reached out to pick an apple off the table. He cut into it with a small knife, splitting it with a sharp sound. He placed one-half on her plate before taking a bite out of the firm fruit and chewing it while contemplating her brother. “And here I thought ye were bragging to me. Ye know, polishing up yer sister’s image so that I’d be hungry for a match with her.”
Gordon’s captains laughed, but her husband watched her pick up the apple and take a small bite from it. The flesh was sweet, and the smell filled her nose as she swallowed slowly.
“Maybe I was.” Curan answered Gordon, but Jemma discovered that her brother was watching her as well. She took another bite and chewed it faster, shooting both men a warning look.
“I, for one, am grateful that things are settled now and no one shall feel the need to look after me.”
The table quieted, several frowns appearing. Jemma looked to Gordon for an explanation.
“It seems that the Church shelters its own. Imogen was smuggled away by her fellow sisters, and none of them will tell me where she is.”
“The priest told us to trust the Church and pray for her.”
It was a disheartening thought but one that didn’t hold up against the greeting that she had received from the castle’s inhabitants. Her hope was burning brightly, and it was even balm for her heart to know that she would not have to endure the guilt of Imogen suffering somewhere in a cell, or worse yet, her execution.
“I wish her well.”
There were plenty of raised eyebrows in response, but her husband considered her from behind a frown.
“I do.”
“Well then, ye may wish Anyon well, too, for she has taken leave of the castle to join her cousin on McIre land.”
Jemma swallowed again and noticed everyone at the head table watching her.
“Another bit of glad tidings.”
“I agree, wife.”
Jemma heard the tone in her husband’s voice that often sent her temper to heating. He’d sent Anyon away, and he was not sorry.
She wasn’t, either.
Her pride might ache, but her heart applauded the action. She reached beneath the table and pinched his thigh.
His hand captured hers, the feeling of his fingers wrapping around hers awakening more desire in her. She suddenly needed to be touched. It began to take command of her attention as her belly filled. She turned her hand beneath his and began to stroke his fingers, one after the other. Their skin sliding against each other was intoxicating; even the bright sunlight didn’t make her shy away from the desire inside her.
It made her feel even more alive, and that was something that she had missed too sorely to feel guilty over.
“Since ye claimed the duty of escorting me wife in, I believe I’ll take my chance to have her on my arm now.”
They made it halfway down the aisle before Gordon laughed low and deep and scooped her off her feet. Those still eating erupted with amusement. Many of them slapping the tabletop while their laird carried her off.
“You enjoy that too much.”
Gordon tossed her into the air and caught her. “Aye, I do, lass.” He carried her up the stairs to their chamber, never stopping to catch his breath.
“But I confess that I enjoy being inside ye more.” He laid her down on the bed, his gaze moving over her as though he was attempting to memorize her. “However bold or blunt ye might find that, lass.”
“I find it pleasing. Very pleasing.”
“Is that so?” He reached out and flipped her skirt up to expose one leg. He clamped his hand around her knee and slid it up to her thigh. “How pleasing?”
“So pleasing that I wouldn’t mind if you ripped this dress off me, so long as you lay with me, no clothing between us.”
He drew in a stiff breath, a muscle twitching on the side of his jaw. The fingers on her thigh tightened.
“No just yet, lass. Ye need to rest.”
Jemma hissed and sat up. She slid her own hand across the sheet and beneath his kilt to smooth along his thigh, but she did not stop there. She continued on until she felt the sac that hung beneath his member and then the hard rod itself.
“I need to feel you inside me, Gordon. I need to be your wife.”
“Sweet lass.” His voice was hoarse, but he captured the sides of her face between his hands and kissed her. She lost her grip on his cock but happily reached for him as he pushed her back while his lips teased hers. He didn’t rush to open her mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking along her lower lip in a slow motion before he pressed a harder kiss against her lips. Slowly, steadily, he increased the pressure until she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to penetrate. Liquid fire pooled inside her, like molten metal going into a mold. His tongue stabbed down into her mouth, stroking along her own, and she eagerly accepted it, closing her lips around it to suck it.
