12-22-2021 #1 in Celtic
12-02-2022 #1 in mature themes
12-04-2022 #1 in Historical Romance
Uncovering a web of lies and deceit, Laird Eòin (Owen) Douglas is made the ninth Earl of Douglas and third Earl of Avondale upon the death of his father Willi...
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Eòin sat on the edge of Niamh's bed watching candlelight dance across her sleeping face. His future wife was certainly a beauty. Smooth skin with rich earth tones covered the soft features of her face. Thick dark lashes framed the edges of her eyelids. She insisted on a satin pillowcase to "protect her hair" as she put it.
He still wasn't sure how she got her hair to be so soft to the touch. He heard Caitlan complaining about the purchase of some expensive accouterments. Something she referred to as shea butter. He didn't care how much the damn thing cost. So long as she kept it just this way, running like silk over his fingers.
His cock flexed between his legs as he focused on her lips. They were almost a perfect heart shape, with the bottom just a bit larger than the top. It stood apart, begging to be kissed and suckled. He would ensure that it was never left wanting. He couldn't get the vision of her lips wrapped around the girth of his cock out of his head. His inclination was to wake her and sheath his cock inside her deep as he could go. He wasn't sure how she did it but she stirred something in him that he'd never felt for another woman before.
He would see that she was well cared for and that she would want for naught but he could never love her. Not when his plan was to infiltrate the court of King James and confirm Richard Colville's involvement in his father's murder with the King's complicity. He would see them both dead. Even if the act cost him his life.
He would not permit her to suffer needlessly. Despite the fact that he didn't love her, he would not see any harm come to her. This indescribably maddening urge to protect her forced all his decisions and judgments to change drastically. They began to include her and how the outcome of each decision would affect her. It infuriated him to continually worry how his schemes might harm her. He never cared before about them harming anyone else, not even Allistor and Isobell.
He sighed deeply. His thoughts returned to her. His gaze found her lips again. After their first kiss, it became clear to him that she was no virgin. She'd obviously known and perhaps even enjoyed the touch of a man. The knowledge should unsettle him but instead, he found himself being relieved that she embraced her sexuality. Because of the backward thinking of modern society, too many women never knew the joys of intimacy or learned that part of themselves too late.
