Nodding, Ebba backed out of the room as Iliana searched her chest for hose. Finding a pair of green ones, she carried them quickly to the bed and sat on the end of it to begin putting them on, only to pause and whirl about as her husband suddenly lunged upright. She thought at first he must have suffered a night terror that had startled him awake, but as he continued forward until he could grab her, then started to fall back, taking her with him, she realized that he must have awakened while Ebba was in the room and waited until now to reveal the fact.

Squealing, she grabbed for the bedpost, but he was faster. She ended lying flat on her back as he shifted atop her. Iliana opened her mouth to protest then, but Duncan was not interested in hearing it. His mouth came down atop hers and his hands began roaming so fast and in so many directions it made her dizzy.

“Husband!” she managed at last when he finally freed her mouth, only to bite down on her lower lip when he jerked her unlaced neckline aside and clamped his mouth enthusiastically on one of her nipples. She caught her breath and tried again, but gave it up and squeezed her eyes shut as he rucked up her skirts and snaked one hand down between her legs to set about stoking her fire.

“Oh, my lord,” she breathed with a mixture of shock and pleasure as her body immediately burst back to heaving life beneath his ministrations. “Oh my…oh dear…Oh, Mother,” she moaned, then popped her eyes open as she recalled what she was trying to tell him. “M-mother!” she gasped. “Nay! Please, husband. My mother is here. I needs must—”

“Worry not, wife,” he muttered, raising himself away from her breasts to kneel between her legs. “We shall make it quick so you can get below and greet her.”

“Quick?” Iliana asked, then gasped as he raised her hips and slid into her.

He paused then to frown at her a bit worriedly and ask, “Are ye tender?”

Flushing with embarrassment, she shook her head quickly.

“Not at all?”

“Nay, but—” The word ended on a grunt when he grabbed her legs by each ankle and tugged them up over his shoulders as he drove deeper into her.

“Good,” he groaned, holding her tightly to him briefly before withdrawing slightly and pounding back into her again. “Damn me, yer so tight.”

Iliana bit her lip uncertainly. “Is that bad?”

“Nay, nay. ’Tis good. Too damn good, and I have waited too damn long. Hook yer ankles, sweetling.”

“Hook my—?”

“Aye, help me hold ye up,” he muttered, his face a picture of pain. “Hook yer ankles behind me head.”

Iliana did as instructed, then moaned herself and arched into him when he released one hand from holding her hips and moved it between them to caress her again.