Epilogue
Eight Weeks Later
I lay naked on a king-size bed inside our new home, a two-story farmhouse a five-minute walk from Lachlan and Erica's place, watching as my husband of two hours and forty minutes kicked off his shoes. A kilt swaddled his hips, cascading down his thighs. Beneath the plaid, his ever-stiffening penis tented the kilt. Like any proud Scotsman, my Highlander had substituted a kilt for the pants but had worn the rest of the tuxedo — including the shoes and socks.
Only Aidan MacTaggart could pull of a look like that.
Now he took hold of the kilt, and with one flick of his wrist, sent it plummeting to the floor. His erection waved in the air, thick and long, the tip reddened and already damp with a drop of moisture. As usual, he'd forgone underwear.
Aidan knelt at the the foot of the bed. "Wish you'd let me take you to a posh hotel. It is our wedding night. Or afternoon."
He'd whisked me away from the reception early, at my request. I needed time alone with my husband.
"Rather start our life together in the home we'll share," I said, and tickled his knee with my toes. "You know I don't care about fancy stuff. I want you. That's all I need, today and every day."
"It's all I need too." On all fours, he crawled up my body until his hands and knees straddled me. He'd stopped with his head over my belly. "We are going on the honeymoon, even if Lachlan did pay for it."
"Lachlan and Rory. It was their wedding gift to us." Two weeks in in the south of France, at a villa on the Côte D'Azure. "Can't wait to see the French Riviera. Sure you don't mind bringing the puppies with us?"
"Wouldn't be the same without the furry lassies." He ducked his head to swipe that agile tongue over one nipple. "Though I'm glad Jamie took them for tonight, so I can have you all for myself. Cannae wait to see you lying nude on a private beach, for no one but me to see."
"You have become rather possessive of my body."
He kissed my belly. "Let me show you how much I covet your body."
I bent one knee and grazed it against his cock. "I covet yours too."
He hissed in a breath as I hooked my leg around his hip. "Thig mi air do mhuin."
"No clue what that means, but I'm game for anything."
"Means I'm coming to mount you." He laid a hand on my belly, gliding it lower and lower until his fingertips teased the hairs on my mound. "No need to fannadh anymore, unless you want me to watch."
"I want you inside me."
"Dé an doimhneachd?"
"You have got to teach me Gaelic. What's that one mean?"
"How deep."
Lifting my hips, I pressed his palm into my mound so his fingers skimmed my clitoris. "Deep as your slat can go. I want you so deep inside me I can feel you come, like you're a part of me."
"We are a part of each other, mo leannan." He thrust his hand between my folds, caressing the skin, fondling my clit. When I arched my back and moaned, he grinned. "I'm impressed you learned a Gealic word all on your own. Slat? Never taught you that one. Where'd you learn it?"
"Rory told me."
Aidan's hand stilled, his eyes went wide. "That bloody bod ceann — "
"I'm kidding," I said, helpless not to laugh at his adorably offended expression. "Your brother's not a dickhead. But I learned slat from the Internet."
"Did you now." That hand began to stroke me again with leisurely ease, stoking my need, making me wriggle against his palm and clench my fingers in the sheets. "I'm going to show you things the Internet cannae teach ye."
"No better teacher than Aidan the Magnificent."
He pulled his hand away, glided a palm to the inside of each of my thighs, and spread me wide for him. "We come together this time."
Joined hearts, joined lives, joined bodies. He'd always taken care of my pleasure first, before taking my body, though I invariably climaxed again when his impassioned love-making drove me over the edge along with him. But this time, on our wedding night, it seemed appropriate we find our pleasure as one.
He planted his hands at either side of me, his arms straight and his face above mine. "I love you with everything I am."
"I love you, Aidan, so much."
He slid inside me, slowly, delicately, filling me until it seemed we had merged. He, a part to of me. I, a part of him. Forever.
I clung to him as he began to pump his hips, pulling his cock out of me and then driving it deep inside again, the pace languid and deliciously torturous. With my heels flat on the bed, I hoisted my hips up to meet his thrusts, my mouth open on a string of moans and gasps, the desperation to come mounting like a spring wound ever tighter. He pumped faster, harder, grunting each time he lunged into me and blustering out a breath when he retreated. I locked my legs and arms around him, begging him to never stop, to make me come, to never stop.
My body went rigid, my release hovered so close I could almost taste it, the promised pleasure like a bite of a decadent dessert hovering a breath away from my lips. His hips pistoned in a frantic pace as his cock pounded into me, making me cry out.
In the instant my orgasm wrenched my body, the ecstasy flooding over me, his release pulsed inside me and he threw his head back, shouting a long litany of Gaelic. I clutched him and cried out again and again, lost in endless waves of bliss. Aidan pumped into me twice more, then shoved a hand down to massage my clit, ever determined to see my climax through to the very last. When I thought my orgasm would never end, it at last faded away on a final, shuddering wave.
He collapsed beside me and pulled me into his arms, cradled against his powerful body. We both breathed hard, nearly breathless from the incredible rapture of our love-making. With my ear pressed to his chest, I listened to his heartbeat while it gradually slowed.
"The wedding was beautiful," I said, "but this was more fun."
My thoughts traveled back to the wedding and the two of us reciting our vows atop a hillside behind Lachlan and Erica's home, surrounded by a carpet of purple heather. It seemed appropriate we join our hearts and lives on the same hill where they had taken their vows. After all, I would never have met Aidan if he hadn't gone to Dance Ardor in hopes of re-creating his brother's journey to lasting love.
"Weddings are for the guests," Aidan said. "This was for us."
"I finally got to meet the infamous Rory, but I didn't see the caber."
"He was in a good mood today, because of the wedding." Aidan shook his head. "The man needs a strong woman to shake some sense into him."
"I'm sure he'll find the right girl someday."
"Not unless she ties him up and drags him away from his office."
"Let's not talk about your family anymore tonight."
"Anything my wife wants." He rolled onto his back, taking me with him, and I wound up sprawled atop him. His fingers traced small, delicate circles on my back. "Should I worry about your brother's intentions with my sister?"
I laughed, recalling the sight of Gavin and Jamie engaged in a secret conversation. They'd slipped away from the crowd at the outdoor reception — held at Lachlan and Erica's, of course — to a spot off to the side where they could have some privacy. Aidan had spotted the pair and poked me in the ribs, his lips twisted as he nodded toward Gavin and Jamie.
"What are they up to?" he'd asked me.
I'd shrugged. "No idea. Maybe a quick tryst."
He'd looked so adorably horrified at the idea. "Bad enough he had her in a hunting shack in the woods."
"Young love. What can you do?"
Back in the present, ensconced in the arms of my wicked Scot, I propped my chin on his chest and said, "Gavin and Jamie may be the next couple to tie the knot. Do you have a problem with that?"
"Not so long as he treats her right."
I raked my nails down his chest. "You mean as long as he's doesn't act like the two Scotsmen I know, who seduce us American girls at first sight."
"Exactly."
A phone rang, muffled but nearby. I sat up, trying to decide if it was my phone or his. "Sounds like mine."
"Let it go," Aidan said. "We're on holiday."
"Better check it, just to be sure."
He wriggled out from under me and marched across the room stark naked to dig my phone out from under my wedding dress, which had wound up piled atop a chair. He glanced at the phone's screen and cursed in Gaelic.
"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up.
"It's the surgery," he said, and tossed me the phone.
I caught it in one hand.
"My checkup?"A few days ago I'd signed up with the MacTaggart family's GP, a prudent step considering we wanted to have a baby. "Probably calling to tell me the blood tests were fine. It was a standard physical, that's all."
"They called on our wedding day. Must be urgent."
"Don't turn into a worry wart. That's my job." I held the phone to my ear. "This is Calli."
"Miss Douglas — " The woman halted mid-sentence. I recognized the melodic voice of the surgery's nurse. "Pardon me. It's Mrs. MacTaggart now, isn't it? Congratulations, dearie."
"Thank you."
"We've got your blood results and there was a wee bit of a surprise. I thought you'd want to hear it right away."
"Surprise?"
"Yes." The woman made a delighted little noise. "You are pregnant, dearie."
"What?" I virtually screeched the word. "That's incredible. I thought it would take longer to happen, but this such perfect timing."
"Congratulations, gràidh."
She'd called me darling. It would've been sweet, if I hadn't been overwhelmed by the news. "Thank you for calling. I have no idea what to say."
"Tell your husband, that's what you should do."
She said goodbye and I said it back, not thinking anymore, acting by rote. I dropped my phone on the bed and looked at Aidan.
He grasped my face in his hands, searching my eyes. "What is it? Are you ill?"
"No, not at all." I laid my hands over his, unable to stem the tears trickling down my cheeks, and smiled. "We're having a baby, Aidan. I'm pregnant."
For a couple seconds, he stared blankly at me. Then he let out the loudest, most uproarious whoop I'd ever heard, head thrown back, arms flung wide. The whoop segued into laughter and he leaped onto the bed, bowling me over with him. Tangled in each other's arms, we laughed and cried and kissed. The kissing grew more heated, our hands began to grope, and his penis began to swell once more.
"This," he said, licking and nibbling his way down my neck, "requires another celebration."
"You mean sex."
"Would ye rather drink champagne?"
"Oh no. I want sex, right now."
He pushed up onto his knees. "I'd wager we made a bairn that day under the apple tree."
"The magic fertility tree? I think so too." My eyes fluttered shut as he skimmed his hands up and down my body, exploring every curve and dip, worshiping me with his rough but tender hands. "This might sound weird, but I'm looking forward to coming back after the honeymoon and getting to work. Cataloging your uncle's piles and piles of family papers and historical books is like catnip to a librarian."
"I'm looking forward to working with my new partner." He dipped his tongue inside my belly button, swirling it there. "The best partner a man could want. My bonnie, clever wife."
He lay down beside me and settled his head on my belly, his ear to my womb and a blissful smile lighting up his beautiful face. "I was right again. Said you could give me everything I wanted and you have."
"Don't get arrogant about it. You may be wrong at some point."
"Maybe." He kissed my belly and smirked. "Donnae hold your breath, though."
I grabbed a pillow and whapped him on the head with it.
He peppered kisses over my skin, up between my breasts, to the hollow of my throat. There, he breathed his words against the sensitive flesh. "I want you, but only if it willnae hurt the wee one."
Wee one? I needed a second to figure that one out. "If you mean the itty-bitty fetus growing inside me, nothing you do is going to hurt it."
"Good." He rolled us both over, with me on top. "But to be safe, you should take the reins this time."
"Oh, I see. This is for safety." I placed my hands on his chest and pushed up into a half-sitting position, my breasts dangling. "I thought you just liked watching my boobs bounce."
He waggled his eyebrows. "That I do."
I raised onto my knees, took hold of his shaft, and positioned the head at my opening. "You ready for hot, married sex?"
"We've already done that, mo leannan."
"But this time it's hot, married, we're-having-a-baby sex."
"Ah, that is different."
His crooked smile was the most wonderful thing I'd ever seen. He looked like a man overjoyed at the prospect of raising a bairn. With me. Our family.
"Aidan," I said, my hand still around his cock, "you've given me everything I didn't know I wanted. Let me show you how grateful I am."
I slid onto his cock, inch by velvety inch, until he was seated snug inside me.
He grasped my hips, that naughty gleam in his eyes. "I'm grateful I found a wife who's such a great fuck."
I slapped his chest. "Arrogant Scot."
"Cheeky American."
For the rest of the night, we demonstrated our gratitude and devotion to each other in more ways than I'd ever imagined, even in my wildest fantasies. Not only had I met a man who treated me with respect, one who appreciated my quirks and made all my fantasies come true, I'd also found the one man in the world who accomplished a feat I'd believed impossible.
He set me free — in every way.
And for that, I would be grateful for the rest of my life.