forceful strokes. His face contorted in ecstatic furor as a spasm began to shake him. With a shout he climaxed inside her, his sex throbbing against the walls of her passage as hot liquid spurted against her womb.
Graeme couldn’t think.
Making love to Blair was more than he had expected. It was a frightening revelation. He was accustomed to the afterglow of sexual satiation, yet the depth of contentment that curled through him stole his mind and sapped his energy. What had Blair done to him? The first thought that came to mind was that he had succumbed to one of her spells.
What he had experienced with Blair was deeper than the pleasure he’d known with any other woman, more profound in intangible ways he could not express, and endlessly more compelling. If he wasn’t careful, Blair could become addictive.
With great reluctance Graeme rolled off Blair onto his back, his harsh breathing and racing heart reminding him that what had just taken place between him and his wife was extraordinary and without precedence.
He turned his head to stare at Blair, wondering if she was truly a witch with magical powers. She was curled up in a ball beside him, sound asleep and looking like an earth angel. He wouldn’t awaken her now, but in the morning she would have a great deal of explaining to do. He wanted to know more about her dreams and visions.
Unable to resist the lure of her ethereal beauty, he brushed a wayward tendril of bright hair from her forehead. The silken strand scorched his fingers, and he released it quickly, stunned. What kind of magic was this?
Though Graeme tried to sleep, he could not. Blair’s reason for wanting to consummate their marriage did not please him. She had come to his bed because she feared her brother, not because she wanted her husband.
Blair said she could never love him. Mayhap not, but he had encountered no problem in arousing her. Her passion had stunned him. He’d had no idea she was capable of such an enthusiastic response, and he was willing to bet she was surprised as well.
Perhaps her physical response to him was the answer to their problems. If he could seduce her into loving him, she would lose her powers. Without her powers, no one could accuse her of witchcraft, and danger would no longer stalk her.
Aye, that was what he would do. Make Blair love him and at the same time enjoy the benefits of the marriage bed. While his own heart was well protected, he knew Blair’s was vulnerable. If the only way to protect her from herself was to use her vulnerability, then so be it.
As for her dream about MacArthur and MacKay, he’d be a fool to disregard it. He would keep a watchful eye out for them.
Blair was still sleeping soundly when Graeme eased out of bed at first light. He washed and dressed and left his chamber to break his fast, careful not to awaken Blair. He took a seat beside Stuart and Heath, who were enjoying their oats and bannocks.
“Ye’re late, lad,” Stuart said. “ ’Tis not like ye to oversleep. Do ye still intend to help us with the shearing?”
Stifling a yawn, Graeme nodded as he attacked the bowl of oats Glenda set in front of him.
“What ails ye this morning, lad?” Stuart asked. “Did ye have a bad night?”
Graeme grinned. “Actually, Uncle, I had an exceptionally good night.”
Heath nearly choked on his bannock. “Never say ye bedded the witch! Are ye mad, Graeme?”
Graeme sent Heath a quelling look. “Blair is my wife. Bedding one’s wife is a normal occurrence.”
“Mayhap ’tis a normal occurrence when one’s wife is normal,” Heath groused. “I wasna worried about ye as long as I knew Blair hadna lured you into her bed, but this changes everything.”
Graeme sent him a confused look. “How so?”
“After bedding her, ye are more susceptible to her spells. I didna want to tell you this, but now I have no choice. Aiden saw yer wife sneaking out to the stillroom last night. Lord only knows what evil she was hatching out
Graeme couldn’t think.
Making love to Blair was more than he had expected. It was a frightening revelation. He was accustomed to the afterglow of sexual satiation, yet the depth of contentment that curled through him stole his mind and sapped his energy. What had Blair done to him? The first thought that came to mind was that he had succumbed to one of her spells.
What he had experienced with Blair was deeper than the pleasure he’d known with any other woman, more profound in intangible ways he could not express, and endlessly more compelling. If he wasn’t careful, Blair could become addictive.
With great reluctance Graeme rolled off Blair onto his back, his harsh breathing and racing heart reminding him that what had just taken place between him and his wife was extraordinary and without precedence.
He turned his head to stare at Blair, wondering if she was truly a witch with magical powers. She was curled up in a ball beside him, sound asleep and looking like an earth angel. He wouldn’t awaken her now, but in the morning she would have a great deal of explaining to do. He wanted to know more about her dreams and visions.
Unable to resist the lure of her ethereal beauty, he brushed a wayward tendril of bright hair from her forehead. The silken strand scorched his fingers, and he released it quickly, stunned. What kind of magic was this?
Though Graeme tried to sleep, he could not. Blair’s reason for wanting to consummate their marriage did not please him. She had come to his bed because she feared her brother, not because she wanted her husband.
Blair said she could never love him. Mayhap not, but he had encountered no problem in arousing her. Her passion had stunned him. He’d had no idea she was capable of such an enthusiastic response, and he was willing to bet she was surprised as well.
Perhaps her physical response to him was the answer to their problems. If he could seduce her into loving him, she would lose her powers. Without her powers, no one could accuse her of witchcraft, and danger would no longer stalk her.
Aye, that was what he would do. Make Blair love him and at the same time enjoy the benefits of the marriage bed. While his own heart was well protected, he knew Blair’s was vulnerable. If the only way to protect her from herself was to use her vulnerability, then so be it.
As for her dream about MacArthur and MacKay, he’d be a fool to disregard it. He would keep a watchful eye out for them.
Blair was still sleeping soundly when Graeme eased out of bed at first light. He washed and dressed and left his chamber to break his fast, careful not to awaken Blair. He took a seat beside Stuart and Heath, who were enjoying their oats and bannocks.
“Ye’re late, lad,” Stuart said. “ ’Tis not like ye to oversleep. Do ye still intend to help us with the shearing?”
Stifling a yawn, Graeme nodded as he attacked the bowl of oats Glenda set in front of him.
“What ails ye this morning, lad?” Stuart asked. “Did ye have a bad night?”
Graeme grinned. “Actually, Uncle, I had an exceptionally good night.”
Heath nearly choked on his bannock. “Never say ye bedded the witch! Are ye mad, Graeme?”
Graeme sent Heath a quelling look. “Blair is my wife. Bedding one’s wife is a normal occurrence.”
“Mayhap ’tis a normal occurrence when one’s wife is normal,” Heath groused. “I wasna worried about ye as long as I knew Blair hadna lured you into her bed, but this changes everything.”
Graeme sent him a confused look. “How so?”
“After bedding her, ye are more susceptible to her spells. I didna want to tell you this, but now I have no choice. Aiden saw yer wife sneaking out to the stillroom last night. Lord only knows what evil she was hatching out
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