Page 129 of Promised to the Forbidden Laird

“Take me, Roy,” she moaned against his lips. “I willnae break…”

He seemed to understand exactly what she wanted him to do. He thrust his hips into her, nailing her against the wall. She felt so full of him, as he claimed her. There was no caution in him any longer. With each push and pull, she felt full and satisfied, as their bodies followed their own rhythm.

His lips found hers, and they were kissing feverishly, as if this were the last time they would ever hold each other, and this communion of souls would make them belong to each other forever more.

He was holding her firmly against the wall as pleasure swept through them both with such force that the corridor, the castle and every duty beyond it ceased to exist.

There was only him, holding her in his arms. Her nails bit into his shoulders. Her mouth opened beneath his, each broken breath drawing them both deeper into the wild rhythm between them. He buried his face against her throat, breathing her in as he drove them both toward the edge, unable to slow, unwilling to stop.

When release finally overtook them, she tightened around him and hid her cry against his shoulder. Roy held her there long afterward, both of them trembling, their foreheads pressed together while their breathing slowly filled the silence.

What followed was fierce, unguarded, and entirely theirs. Donaldina met him without fear, holding him when his restraint failed and surrendering nothing she had not freely chosen to give.

Somewhere beyond the door, footsteps passed and faded toward the lower stair. Dun Ard continued preparing itself for morning.

“We will be missed,” he managed to say, though neither of them was yet breathing properly.

“Aye.”

“Yer attendants may come looking.”

“Mairi has more sense.”

“Hamish doesnae.”

Donaldina smiled against his skin. “Then ye had best remain very quiet.”

Roy looked down at her. Despite his warning, neither made any effort to move. Donaldina listened to the steady beat beneath her ear.

Tomorrow they would be separated for the ceremony, dressed beneath different banners and brought together before the clans.

For now, she stayed where she was. There was no distance left between them worth restoring.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Roy faced armies with less unease than he felt standing before the altar.

The great hall of Dun Ard had been transformed beneath MacIver red and MacNicol green. Winter heather wound around the pillars. Fresh rushes covered the floor, releasing the clean scent of grass beneath the heavier warmth of peat smoke, beeswax and bodies gathered too closely beneath one roof.

Both clans filled the benches. Men who once reached for weapons at the sight of one another now sat shoulder to shoulder, though suspicion remained in the careful angles of their bodies. Young heirs watched from the lower tables. Elders whispered behind raised hands. Every face seemed turned toward Roy, measuring whether a King’s command could truly become peace.

The joined banners stirred faintly above the high table. Roy looked at them once. He spent most of his life beneath colors that demanded blood. A banner marked the ground a man was expected to defend, the name he was required to preserve and the enemies he inherited before he was old enough to understand why they hated him.

Today, two banners hung together. Neither was lowered. Neither was conquered.

Hamish stood beside him, dressed more formally than Roy had seen him since before the war. He shifted the ceremonial brooch at his shoulder as though it were more uncomfortable than armor.

“Ye look as though Father Maol intends tae execute ye,” he murmured.

Roy kept his eyes upon the doors. “Silence would improve ye.”

“It rarely has.”

Malcolm stood on Roy’s other side with several elders and councilmen. Their expressions ranged from solemn approval to the grave resignation of men who believed weddings ought to resemble funerals in all but destination.

Roy barely noticed them. The musicians ceased. The hall rose.

Donaldina entered between Mairi and two MacNicol women carrying candles. Roy forgot the gathered clans. All he could see was her.