Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
But while having my gorgeous husband take me out into the woods alone to “teach me things” did sound appealing—very, very appealing—seeing the look of shock when I nailed the target he’d set up at fifty paces was pretty damn good too.
I’ve been sneaking in some lessons with Freya, one of Tor’s crew of Vikings. Or, retired Vikings. Or, mostly-retired Vikings, I suppose. I think they’re all still figuring it out. But Freya, the younger sister of one of his captains, has ended up being a good friend, and with the Norseman settlement not far from Castle McDougall, it’s been great to have another girl closer to my age to get to know. That she’s an expert marksman with a bow has come in quite handy in flabbergasting Lachlan.
“Who taught you,” he chuckles. “Callum? Hamish?”
I smile, pursing my lips as I shake my head innocently.
“I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about, dear.”
He chuckles deeply, pushing his fingers through his silver and black hair before dropping his dark eyes to me.
“Why do I get the feeling you took secret bow lessons just to tease me?”
I grin. “I’ve mentioned how much you get me, haven’t I?”
Lachlan chuckles, and before I know it, he’s pulled me into a kiss.
“Aye, lass,” he smiles. “You have. Almost every day since the wedding.”
I grin, pulling close to him and looking up, and when he leans in to sear his lips to mine, my heart skips a beat, like it always does.
“Happy almost one-year anniversary, husband,” I whisper quietly.
“Happy almost one-year anniversary, wife,” he growls back as he leans in to kiss me slow and deep.
It’s been almost a year since our wedding, the very day he rescued me from Lord Campbell with the help of his friends. And ever since then?
Well, ever since then, I’ve been living in a fairytale.
We did wed that very day, in a quiet, small ceremony with our close friends, and I became the Lady of Castle McDougall. And hilariously, Cat’s stepmother, technically. Not that I tease her about it at all. Ever. Not even a little bit.
…Okay that’s a lie. It’s far too much fun to pass up the opportunity to tease her.
With my grandfather’s passing, the rest of the Campbell’s dropped their claims of “money and land owed” by Lachlan for annulling the marriage to Darcy. Yes, me marrying him did still settle any possible claims my extended family could have. After all, I was a Campbell, though thankfully, not anymore. But really, we married for love—a fierce, wild, untamed, passionate love.
Oh and don’t feel bad for Lord Campbell. He had the chance to drop it, and we obviously would have taken him with us off that crippled ship. But he made his choice, and he paid for it. Darcy was banished from Castle McDougall, again — this time under penalty of imprisonment if she ever returned to Scotland. As far as I’ve heard, she’s back in France with another cousin of hers, telling anyone who’ll listen what a terrible, back-stabbing, disloyal daughter I am.
…Needless to say, I haven’t lost any sleep over it.
“I brought you all the way out here, alone, to teach you to shoot. And you’ve gone and taken lessons already.”
Lachlan makes a tsking sound with his tongue against his cheeks, and I shiver in anticipation.
…We both know damn well that shooting a bow was not the main reason he brought me out here. Yes, we have an entire castle, and to ourselves should we say as much. But there’s something so… freeing about coming out here alone together and taking our clothes off to do wicked, wicked things to each other.
“Well, think of it this way,” I purr, kissing him slowly. “Now you don’t have to spend all that time teaching me how to aim. Think of all the time we’ve got now before we have to ride back.”
He growls, and when his hands slide around my waist and grip me tight, I whimper as the thrill shivers through me. My big, handsome husband pulls me close, kissing me slowly, and then harder, and fiercer, until the both of us are moaning as he spins me and pushes me back against a big tree. His lips sear to mine, and I moan as our tongues duel. Big hands slide over me, yanking at the ties of my dress, and I whimper as Lachlan yanks the clothes from my body, hissing as his fierce eyes sweep hungrily over me.
“Gods are you beautiful,” he groans, kissing me slow and deep as I moan and reach for his own clothes. My hands feverishly tug at his kilt, undoing it and letting it drop, and when my hands slide down to cup his huge cock, I whimper eagerly into his lips.
God lord is he big, and damn do I love it.