The Scarred Highlander (Blood & Honor Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: Blood & Honor Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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“You are an honorable man, husband.”

He grinned. “If you knew what I was thinking, you would not think me honorable.”

She returned his grin. “And if you knew what I was thinking, you would think me wicked.”

“Hurry and wash so I may wash,” he ordered. “I will not come to you with the blood of battle on me.”

Though exhausted from all she had been through today, Elsie hurried to bathe, eager to make love with her husband. She kept a drying cloth wrapped around herself once out of the tub and sat at the small table, piled with food, ready to eat so her gurgling stomach would not disturb them while in the throes of lovemaking.

She watched him undress and even with the grime and blood of battle on him, he was appealing as always, and she found her need for him spiraling. She drank the wine and nibbled on the food, eager for him to finish.

Cavell watched his wife lean back in the chair, saw the fatigue on her lovely face and how she fought to keep her eyes open. He had an aching need for her, and he silently cursed the toll the day had taken on her. He could hurry and wash and share a quick poke with her, but he wanted more, his love for her insisted on more than a quick poke.

He lingered in the tub after washing, the water already chilly, until he was sure she slept. He got out, dried himself, then gently loosened the cloth around her so when he lifted her into his arms, the cloth fell away. He carried her to the bed and gently placed her on it, then pulled the blanket over her.

He did not trust himself to get in bed with her, not yet. He went to the table and sat in the chair still warm from his wife’s presence and turned it toward the hearth, so he did not look upon his sleeping wife and think of her naked beneath the blanket. He refilled his tankard with a generous amount of wine and drank it, it slowly flowing down his throat and crashing into his stomach, not having eaten since early morning. He grabbed a piece of bread and munched on it.

It was better they did not couple. He killed today and his hands should not be touching her. He feared he would not be as gentle as he should be with her. Still, he ached for her.

He let his glance linger on the flames in the hearth, but his thoughts kept going to his brother. His father would need to be told, but did he tell him the truth or let him continue to believe that Harcus was the son he most admired, the son he most respected?

It was not an easy decision to make, for either way, truth or lies, he would suffer for it in his father’s eyes. At one time that would have mattered to him, but Elsie’s love had changed all that. He cared what she thought of him, what his clan thought of him, and what their future children would think of them. Nothing else mattered.

Her hand on his shoulder surprised him and he rubbed his cheek across it, before taking hold of it and drawing her around in front of him to rest in his lap.

“You need to sleep.”

“I cannot sleep without you beside me, though presently I would prefer you inside me.”

He rested his brow against hers. “You make it difficult to do what is best for you.”

“You know what is best for me, for us both, especially after the day we have had. So, please, husband, do what is best for me.”

His arms slipped beneath her bottom and in one swift lift he was on his feet with her tucked safely in his arms. He walked to the bed as he brushed a kiss across her lips, then lowered her down on the bed, slipping over her.

She pressed her cheek to his and whispered, “Slow and easy, husband, so I can enjoy the feel of you inside me.”

He obliged her, slipping his hard shaft inside her gently and setting a slow steady rhythm. They kissed along with his easy thrusts, tasting slowly of each other, satisfying a thirst that had lingered in them since he had found her on the bank of the stream.

“I love you so much,” she whispered between kisses.

“I love you more,” he whispered back.

And so it went the back and forth of kisses and thrusts that built slowly, deeply, until it overwhelmed and Elsie cried out, “I cannot wait.”

Cavell felt the same and they soon became lost in a spiral of pleasure, the sensation growing stronger and stronger and when he heard his wife cry out in climax, felt her body burst with it, he did the same, roaring out his pleasure.


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