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This is not really a prompt, just wanted to tell @lenny9987 how much I enjoy her fics! and to ask if the Come Hell or Helwater will continue?

Come Hell or Helwater - Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

After dinner, Jamie had to go back to the stables to make sure all the horses were set for the night so Claire set about getting Brianna ready for bed.

When Jamie returned, he found the cot that would be Brianna’s made up with the necessary blankets and pushed into a corner so there were walls on two sides. Both were in their shifts, Brianna beneath the covers while Claire sat with her back straight against the wall, a pillar for Brianna to lean against, her posture slipping as she drifted closer and closer to sleep.

Claire had a book propped open in her lap and was reading by the light of a candle on the small table beside the bed. She winked at Jamie as he came in, barring the door against the night and the press of Helwater beyond. With the doors and windows shut, just the three of them inside, it was easy to pretend that the small cottage was all there was in the world, that nothing could or would disrupt the peace that was settling over them.

He sat and began removing his boots and stockings, listening to Claire’s voice rise and fall with the intonations of one practiced in storytelling.

She was reading Robinson Crusoe to Brianna. It must his copy brought from Lallybroch. He remembered the smile of familiarity she’d worn when running her fingers over the cover the day she’d found it on the shelf in his study. Still printed in her time, she’d told him. And on a shelf somewhere in almost every bookshop she’d ever visited.

There was a pause, longer than just to turn the page. He looked up to see Claire watching him. Brianna wasn’t asleep yet and she nudged her mother to keep going. Claire patted the space on the bed on Brianna’s other side and then resumed where she’d dropped off.

Cautiously, Jamie settled into the place she’d indicated and when the cot had finished creaking under his shifting weight, Claire passed the book over to him with an exaggerated yawn.

Clearing his throat, he began to read aloud, stealing peeks at Brianna as she watched him, her eyes steadily glazing over with rapidly approaching sleep. Claire beamed as she wrapped her arms around their daughter, keeping her attention on him as well.

He lost himself in the familiar story and the warmth of his lasses beside him. A nudge to his leg from Claire’s foot roused him from the waking dream. Brianna had fully passed out and Claire was pinned in place.

A chuckle escaped him as he closed the book and set it aside, scooting across the bed carefully to keep the motion and noise from waking Brianna. It was a tricky set of maneuvers necessary to shift Brianna long enough to free Claire, then he lay Brianna down and pulled the blanket up to cover her. The lump in his throat was larger and the tears that slipped down his cheeks flowed freer than he would have expected. He leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to her temple, lifting his head before any of the tears fell upon her.

He never thought he’d see his child, let alone have the chance to read with her and bid her goodnight; that Claire would be there watching over him with a smile that told him he was doing just fine, even if he shook a bit as he ran his fingers along Brianna’s cheek and brushed the hair from her face.

At last he stood, lest his ministrations wake the lass. Claire was immediately there, folding herself into his side, wrapping her arms around his middle, and resting her cheek against his chest. Jamie leaned his cheek against the reassuring cushion of her curls, then turned to kiss her crown.

She pulled back and he froze, doubt creeping up in his gut until he looked down at her and saw the warmth in her eyes. He remained in place as she rose on her toes and kissed him softly. Only then did he relax, loosening his jaw and welcoming her tongue as it slid along his lips, seeking his own.

His hands wrapped around her waist—the fit and feel precisely the way he remembered. The fabric of her shift wasn’t sheer but was thin enough for him to make out every line and curve as he ran his hands slowly up and down, working his way toward the roundness of her backside.

Claire stopped his progress by grabbing his wrists and pulling away from him. Keeping hold and biting her lip, she led him from the cottage’s large and open main room to the long and narrow room adjacent. The only space the small table fit was at the far end beyond the hearth and there was only a single trunk for their clothes.

But neither of them were paying attention to the furniture beyond the bed.

Jamie closed the door quietly behind them and Claire was immediately tugging at the hem of his shirt, her fingers incidentally brushing his groin in the process. At the sharp noise he emitted, she realized what she’d done and her hand slipped down to do it again while Jamie took over clumsily removing his shirt and then fumbling with the laces of his breeks before giving up and tugging the neck of her shift so it became loose and slipped down her shoulders.

“Ye ken,” he gasped, “I kent ye were really here because of this.”

“Because of what?” she inquired, her hand continuing to stroke him.

“If ye’d been naught but a vision, I’d have had ye right there on the Dunsanys’ sitting room floor,” he growled and she laughed.

“But no,” he continued, taking her wrist and pulling it—reluctantly—away. “No, I’ve had to watch ye and wait for near three days to have ye to myself like this.”

Claire smiled, shyly, and pulled her shift so that it slipped further, finally pooling at her feet and leaving her completely exposed.

“Am I worth the wait?” she asked, her tone playful but the question in her eyes sincere and a little nervous.

“God yes,” he breathed and then he was just as bare a moment later, though less-elegantly accomplished. The breeks clung to a foot as he pulled Claire against him and lifted her from the floor. Her arms and legs wrapped around him as he carried her to the bed, her mouth briefly finding his before moving along his jaw and throat.

He lay her down and stood back, drinking in the sight of her and noting how motherhood more than time had altered her body.

Her hair had come loose and was a tangled mess about her head and shoulders, the dark curls stark against the smooth, pale expanse of her skin. Her breasts were fuller and round for having been suckled by a hungry babe. He plotted the path his tongue would take, from throat and collarbone down to the first nipple, running in tighter and tighter circles until he took it in his mouth to suck and tease with his teeth. When the same had been done to the other breast, he would use his tongue again to find his way from the gully between down to her navel.

Faint lines marked the loose skin around her belly. It had only been a few brief months early in their marriage that her stomach had been flat. Before the first of their daughters had grown and sheltered there. He recalled feeling the child shifting inside of Claire—the press of a foot against his palm, an elbow against his side when Claire turned to him in bed… the swell of that belly against his stomach when he buried himself inside her…

Movement from Claire’s hand drew his attention down between her splayed legs.

She stroked herself with the same rhythm she’d used on him moments before. The throbbing pulse was growing more concentrated in his groin as she began to move her hips and bite her lip.

He would use his tongue the next time, when he could take his time and draw their pleasure out to last hours. For this time, they had both waited long enough.

Climbing on the bed, he knelt between her legs and took hold of her wrist, raising her arm and pinning it over her head as he stretched his body along the length of hers. She rocked her hips against him, eager and hungry as he was, nerves succumbing to blind need.

Covering her mouth with his other hand to muffle the sound, he bit his lip and thrust deep, memory and imagination falling far short of capturing the sensation of belonging he found there.

Locking eyes and sharing a soft kiss, they began to move together, slowly at first as their bodies confronted first the shock of joining and then the lethargy of remembered pleasures made flesh once more. But the dim echoes were soon drowned out by the roar of what was to come, and they happily gave themselves over to it.

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