He gave it to her then, pulling out and pushing in deep.
He let go of her hair and her head dropped like a limp noodle, unable to support herself. He kept her upright on all fours though. His hands grabbed her hips, fingers digging deep to all her generous flesh, anchoring her for him as he took her from behind, deep and steady, the rhythm building until she was moaning and rocking back into his every lunge. It was a different position, the glide of his cock inside her hitting all new nerves.
She climaxed with soft, shuddering sighs, her hands fisting the bedsheets. He fucked her a little longer, collapsing over her with a groan when he came, his big body crushing her, but she didn’t care. She reveled in the delicious weight of him.
She barely remembered him rolling off her or pulling her to his side.
She dozed off for a while.
She remembered the question that came later, however, spoken into her ear and rousing her from sleep when the first gray of dawn started to lighten the room.
“Why are you here? In Scotland?”
She smiled sleepily, rolling over to look at his serious, handsome face. “I’m on my honeymoon.”
She felt him stiffen. His next words fell hard and accusing, his eyes cutting. “You said yer alone here.”
“I am.” She yawned, still sleepy. It had been an exhausting night. “He dumped me.”
He didn’t respond to that. Frown lines creased his forehead as he stared at her. She traced her fingers over the lines, trying to relax them. “It’s okay. I’m glad. You’re a much better lover,” she teased.
His scowl deepened and he came up on his elbows over her again. “That’s verra good to know.”
“What about you? Ever been on a honeymoon?” She knew even in her drowsy state she was fishing for information about this man, and she didn’t care. It was a one-night stand. She’d already thrown all her rules out the window. She could say anything she wanted.
“Aye. A long time ago.”
“Ah. So you’re…divorced.” God, she hoped he wasn’t married. It made her sick to think she had possibly done all the things she had done with a man who belonged to another woman.
“Not divorced. But she’s gone now. She and my daughter are gone. I lost them both.”
He’d been a family man. He had a wife and child.
And he lost them.
She sat up on an elbow and looked down at him, seeing him fully with his wounds laid bare before her.
She glanced around the cottage, understanding. It was the home of a man cut off from the world. Someone who didn’t want to share his life with anyone because he’d loved so much and lost so much and it destroyed him.
She considered that, wondering if anyone would be that wrecked if something happened to her. She honestly didn’t think so.
She looked at him and touched his face. For a moment, it seemed he would pull away from her hand, but he allowed it. Tears pricked her eyes. Sadness for the wife and daughter he lost. And for him…for the man left behind.
“They must have loved you very much.” She knew that because she would have loved him—a man who loved so completely his heart died right alongside his family.
Maybe she already did love him a little.
He blinked. She didn’t know what he expected her to say, but she sensed she had surprised him.
He ended up saying nothing. He kissed her then. It was different than their other kisses. This one was long and deep and tender. She was moaning and aroused as he shoved her legs apart and entered her in one smooth thrust.
She gasped. “You really like to do this a lot.”
“It’s been a while,” he growled against her mouth.
“Me too,” she panted as he stroked deep inside her, driving her into the mattress. “My ex wasn’t really into sex.”
“He’s a fucking bampot.”
She assumed that was an insult. She couldn’t really form the words to ask. He was moving faster and kissing her harder and she was coming again in a violent burst. He climaxed soon after her with that groan she was coming to know well. She’d hear it in her dreams, long after she left this place.
Once finished, they rolled apart. She brought the sheet back over her. “You really know how to wear a girl out.” Smiling, she tucked her hand beneath her cheek, already feeling the pull of sleep again. Her eyes drifted shut.
“I wouldn’t want you to leave unsatisfied.”
The smile slipped from her face. So he still expected her to leave. Naturally. Of course.
She cleared her throat. “Do you think the road is clear yet?”
He was silent for several moments, and she opened one eye to look at him. He wore that surly expression again. “I’ll go check in a while.”
She nodded, a hollow feeling spreading throughout her chest. She would leave soon. Maybe even in a few hours. She’d be on a tour bus with a group full of Americans by the end of the day, no sexy brogue whispering naughty things in her ear.
She’d have one hell of a story to tell Gina. That gave her a small jolt of pleasure. Until she realized this would soon be reduced to a story. A memory.
One that would only fade and grow dim with time.
~
Soon the storm passed, and Goldilocks began to wonder if the bear wasn’t so foul-tempered after all…if the bear was perhaps a little bit wonderful.
~
When Thea woke again sunlight was streaming into the room and the bed was empty. She sat up, holding the covers close to her chest as she glanced around the house.
“Niall?” she called.
No answer. She could almost believe she dreamed him up if not for the soreness between her legs. Last night had happened. She’d had sex multiple times with a too hot guy and it had felt just right. Nothing had ever felt as right in her life. She released a shuddering breath.
She slipped from the bed and padded barefoot into the bathroom. She reached for her clothes, testing them. Mostly dry.
Turning on the shower, she jumped in and quickly washed herself. Her skin was chafed from his beard in several places. Her neck, breasts. Between her thighs. Heat flamed her face when she recalled those places his beard had been. Finished, she emerged from the shower and was wrapping a towel around herself as the door to the bathroom opened.
Niall stepped inside and the space seemed to shrink. He was dressed, wearing a jacket, sweater, and jeans. The crisp scent of wind clung to him. Clearly, he’d been outdoors.
She felt shy. Dressed and with the bright light of day between them, she remembered she knew next to nothing about this man. “Good morning.”
Instead of returning the greeting, his eyes raked her up and down as she stood there dripping with his towel wrapped around her. After some moments, he asked in his taciturn way, “Hungry?”
“Yes, food would be good.”
Turning, he left her in the bathroom.
She dressed in her clothes that were fully dry now and emerged as he was pulling toast from a toaster. Eggs cooked in a pan on the stove. She inhaled the delicious aroma. He glanced at her and went back to scrambling eggs.
“Smells yummy. Can I help with anything?” she asked, trying not to feel awkward.