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Heroes of Honor: Historical Romance Collection

Page 93

by Laurel O'Donnell


  Mairghread and Tristan joined hands as they stood before the priest and spoke their vows. If asked later exactly what they had said, neither would remember. Instead they would recall the love they shared and promises to be true to one another for the rest of their lives. Once they spoke their vows, the family moved inside the kirk for the wedding Mass.

  Tristan was impatient for the Mass to conclude. He rarely minded attending church and often enjoyed the ritual, but today was a different matter. He wanted done with the service and to have Mairghread officially pronounced his wife. He wanted to skip the feast that awaited them and abscond with her to their chamber. He peeked at Mairghread from the corner of his eye and saw she was looking just as frustrated as he felt. Mairghread turned her head and smiled at him. She edged her hand closer to his on the rail and nudged her pinky against his, wrapping it around his finger. They finished the service with their fingers joined. It was the most they dated to do, but the small touch seemed to calm them both, even if only a little bit.

  Father Peter said the last “amen” and announced to the family and a few special guests within the kirk that Tristan and Mairghread were wed. They stood, and Tristan wrapped his hand around Mairghread’s waist. Before he had the chance to pull her to him, she stepped into his embrace. Their lips collided in a kiss that was in no way appropriate for a church. Father Peter cleared his throat several times, Laird Sinclair tsked, and the brothers Sinclair guffawed, but nothing would break up the kiss before Tristan and Mairghread were ready.

  When they broke apart, Mairghread pressed her finger tips to her lips and looked up at Tristan

  “Wife,” Tristan whispered.

  “Husband,” Mairghread replied.

  Tristin scooped Mairghread up and carried her to the kirk’s entrance where he paused for the cheering crowd. He continued to the Great Hall despite her pleas to be put down. When they got halfway across the bailey, Mairghread gave up and laid her head against his shoulder.

  “Precisely where ye belong,” he breathed next to her ear, and she sighed.

  They entered the Great Hall which had been beautifully, if not quickly, decorated for the feast. Tristan climbed the dais stairs and sat down in his seat with Mairghread in his lap. She tried to climb out as the hall began to fill.

  “And just where do ye think ye’re going, wife?”

  “I canna sit in yer lap during the meal. Surely, ye’ll let me go now that everyone is arriving. It’s unseemly.”

  “Since when do ye care about propriety? I bet I will find ye covered with dirks when I undress ye.”

  Mairghread’s cheeks flamed with his bold announcement that he would undress her soon. Contemplating about just how soon made her squirm. “One.”

  “One what?”

  “One dirk is all I have on me.” She squirmed again as the idea of Tristan searching under her kirtle for her knife made her body ache.

  “If ye dinna stop wriggling on top of ma cock, ye willna be staying here long enough for the first toast.” She had noticed his hard length pressing against her hip, and it was making her even more restless.

  “What if I dinna want to stay here long enough to listen to the first toast?” she muttered.

  Tristan growled and cupped her chin, pulling her in for a fierce kiss that had a new level of possession she had not felt before. She sank into his embrace and returned his kiss with equal ardor and fervor.

  “One,” he whispered.

  “One what,” it was her turn to answer.

  “One course is all that we are staying for. Eat enough to tied ye over because I intend to make ye work up an appetite by morning.”

  Mairghread looked around and saw that her family was seated at the high table, and the serving women were bringing around trays of food. When a woman placed a trencher in front of them, Mairghread reached forward and filled it. She put a little bit of everything within her reach onto the trencher. She felt more than heard Tristan laugh behind her. She speared a piece of venison and cupped her hand below it to keep it from dribbling on her gown. She turned and fed the piece to Tristan. He reached around her and picked up a piece of venison, too. He held it over the trencher and waited for her to lean forward. When his fingertips meet her lips, she licked his fingertips and sucked his finger into her mouth. His cock twitched and strained behind his plaid. Mairghread did not attempt to contain her giggle. She picked up a piece of quail with her fingers and looked over her shoulder as she brought it to her mouth. She paused to be sure Tristan watched. She stuck the tip of her tongue out to catch the sauce before it dripped before sucking the piece of poultry into her mouth and then licked her fingertips.

  Tristan was ready to burst. He had had all the teasing he could manage, and they had only just had a couple of bites. He pushed back his chair and stood up. Mairghread squeaked at the sudden change in position. Tristan looked around and nodded his head once before moving to the dais steps. The crowd looked on in shock and confusion since the meal had just begun. Not everyone had even started eating yet. Tristan charged straight for the stairs and took them by twos. By the time everyone realized the laird and lady were retiring for the evening, there was not enough time to make any bawdy comments. Benches pushed back as clan members rushed to follow them upstairs. They would not be short changed their viewing of the bedding ceremony.

  Tristan used his elbow to push down the handle of his chamber door and then kicked the door shut. He strode to the bed and unceremoniously dumped Mairghread on to it. He sprinted back to the door, turned the key in the lock, and dropped the bar down. Mairghread was about to complain about his treatment when she heard the footsteps in the passageway and then the pounding on the door. She understood why he had hurried back to the door. She did not want any witnesses to her first proper bedding.

  Tristan hurried back to the bed and helped her to stand. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned his forehead against hers, inhaling the fragrance he would always consider as hers. He trailed kisses across her forehead to her temple, down her cheek, and to the sensitive flesh behind her ear. He nibbled and sucked when he got to the place where her neck met her shoulder.

  “They will give up and go away soon enough. I willna share this time with anyone but ye. Ye are mine and mine alone. I willna have any other mon see ye as only I do. I willna have any other mon see yer face when ye find ye release. That is ma privilege and mine alone.”

  “I willna share ye either. What is the past will remain there. Nay other woman will see what is now mine and mine alone. I dinna want any other woman to see and dream of what ye do to ma body. That is ma privilege and mine alone.”

  “Tha mo chridhe a 'faireachdainn dìreach dhut.” My heart beats only for you.

  “Tha mo anam a 'bruidhinn dìreach riut fhèin.” My soul speaks only to you.

  Tristan and Mairghread undressed each other. In their own minds, they imagined they would feel more rushed to undress, but they savored this time together. They would only ever have one first time, and they both wanted it to last after having waited for what seemed like an eternity. Once Mairghread was bare, Tristan ran his hands over her entire body and down her arms and thighs. He had never seen anything as beautiful as the woman before him, and now he knew he was bound to her forever.

  “There isnae a sight dearer to me than ye in this moment. I havenae wanted aught more in ma life than to have ye as ma wife and to make love to ye.”

  “Tristan, I am yers forever more.” She ran her hungry eyes over him. She still marveled at his raw strength and power. His body was so different from hers, yet they fit each other so well. “Make me yers in every way. Make me yer wife in truth.”

  She sat back on the bed and inched towards the pillows. Tristan climbed onto the bed and moved over her. She laid back on the pillow and reached for him. He braced himself on his elbows and wrapped his arms around her. They pressed their bodies together and held each other for a moment, reveling in the pleasure of being chest to chest, stomach to stomach, hips to hips, a
nd legs to legs. Their kiss was languid as their tongues explored each other’s mouth like it was the first time. Mairghread ran her fingers through his hair, and one of Tristan’s hand ran along her ribs and down to her thigh. As their hands explored one another, their breathing increased. Mairghread pressed her hips up against his rod. She was convinced it was harder and longer than ever before. She peeked down between them and had a moment of panic that he would not fit.

  “Sshh, mo chridhe. We will fit.” She looked into his eyes and knew he meant it. She opened her legs and let her knees fall to the sides. He brought his hand to her mound and brushed his fingers along her seam. He marveled at how wet she was; she was dripping. He began to inch his way down, but she squeezed his shoulders. He looked up.

  “Later. I canna wait any longer to have ye inside me. I dinna need aught else but that. Tristan, ma body aches for ye. It is painful how badly I want ye. Please, dinna make me wait any longer.”

  Her words sank in, and his cock leaked as he looked at her pink nether lips. He wanted to taste her honey, but he would wait for that pleasure. His cock twitched as the tip touched her damp folds. It seemed to have a mind of its own. He looked into Mairghread’s eyes as he inched into her. She brought her knees up to widen her entrance. She seemed to sense what to do. Tristan wrapped one of her legs over his hips and slid into her until he brushed against her maidenhead. He was aware it would hurt, and he accepted that it was inevitable, but he balked at the idea of bringing her pain. He could see the livid and angry bruises that covered her body. He had been able to ignore them before, but now he experienced guilt that he would cause her more discomfort.

  She seemed to read his mind because she wrapped her other leg around his hip and joined her ankles. She ran her hands down his back and gripped his buttocks.

  “I am fine. Or at least I will be once ye stop waiting.” With that, she thrust her hips up and pushed as hard as she could with her hands and heels. She was so wet it took little effort for him to slide all the way in and break her barrier. She tensed and stiffened. Tristan did not miss her gasp as her body responded to his invasion. His cock wanted nothing more than to thrust and thrust, but his head and heart told him to withdraw. He started to pull out.

  “Dinna ye dare leave me like this. Ye have made ma body ache with desire and then ache with a fullness I wasna prepared for. Now ye will fix it by making love to me.” She forced her body to relax, and Tristan held himself still. It was the single hardest physical feat he had ever accomplished, but he was not willing to move until she was ready. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his chest ached as he tried to draw in enough air. His arms were shaking a little. Mairghread ran her hand over his forehead and wiped the sweat on the sheet beside her. Then her hands ran up and down his chest. She raised her chin for a kiss just as she raised her hips. Tristan sank his hips into her as his mouth devoured hers. She put her hands back into the grooves along his hips she loved so much. They were the right size for her hands. They began to move together. Mairghread did not attempt to stifle her moans and gasps of pleasure. The more noise she made, the wilder Tristan grew. He grunted as he thrust into her. He was being too rough, and he knew it. He tried to slow down, but she shook her head wildly.

  “More. More,” she panted over and over.

  Tristan was on the verge of losing control. He had never felt like this before. Mairghread was a constant source of firsts for him, and it continuously shocked him since he had considered himself experienced. He could no longer stop the hard thrusts of his cock as it pounded into her.

  “Ye feel so good, Mair. I canna stop. I am so close. God, I want ye so much. I canna stop. I canna stop.” Each phrase forced between thrusts.

  “Dinna stop. More, Tristan. Harder,” she pleaded. “Please just dinna stop. I’m so close too.”

  She arched her back and hips off the bed and erupted. Her sheath clung to his rod and squeezed every last drop from him. Their release was simultaneous and almost violent in its explosion. It seemed to carry on without an end in sight. Tristan had been convinced his release into her arse had been the most intense climax of his life, but it was nothing remotely close to this one.

  They clung to one another, Tristan’s arms wrapping around her back, and his head was buried in her neck. Mairghread’s arms and legs encircled him like she was climbing a tree. Neither had any desire to loosen their hold or pull away. Several minutes passed while they stayed like this. It was unfathomable to Tristan how he was still hard inside of her. He did not think there was a single drop of seed left. Mairghread’s hands began to run up and down his back, and he kissed her neck over and over. She was not sure how she felt after all of that, so she shifted her hips side to side. They moaned together. Tristan looked up. He had never moaned in bed before in his life. At least not without a life-threatening injury.

  “Lass?”

  “Aye, I am well. I just dinna ken what to say.” Mairghread shifted her hips again, and she was aroused all over again. She rubbed her mound against his pelvis and was ready to go again. She peeked up at him and noted the confusion on his face. She paused, worried. “Did I do aught wrong?”

  “Nay. Just the opposite. Keep moving like that because it’s wonderful. I just dinna ken how I can still be hard after spilling what was surely every drop of seed I have. I can feel maself growing again. Ready to go again.”

  He rolled over and brought Mairghread on top of him. She leaned back to gaze down at him. He was the most shockingly handsome man that she had ever met, and he was buried deep within her. She had never in her life imagined love making would be so powerful and all consuming. Mairghread assumed making love would exhaust her after what they had just done, but she was ready to go again, too. She rocked her hips as she tested out the new position. She did not understand how it was possible, but he was even deeper than he had been when she was on the bottom.

  “I ken ye will be sore after what we just did, so ye can set the pace now.” A jab of dark jealousy tried to take hold as she knew he spoke from experience. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him. She circled her hips and rocked. Mairghread knew he liked the sensation because he nibbled her lower lip and dug his fingers into her hips. She increased her pace and tried raising her hips to slide up and down his shaft. She did not enjoy that as much as rocking her hips and grinding her mound on him. He did nothing to change her pace or rhythm. He thrust up to meet her and continued until she moved at a frenzied pace.

  “So close, Tristan. I’m so close.” He reveled in her growing knowledge of her body and what his body did to bring her pleasure.

  “Tristan!”

  He felt her inner muscles clench around his cock, and he thrust as hard as he could into her, finding his own release.

  “Mairghread!”

  She sank down onto his chest. It was his turn to run his hands up and down her back.

  “I didna ken.”

  “Tristan, what didna ye ken?”

  “I had nay idea that this is what true lovemaking feels like. It far surpasses aught I have ever done before.” Mairghread lifted her head to gaze at him and watched his eyes roll back in his head before he closed his eyes. His whole body went lax.

  “Tristan? Tristan?”

  “Lass, I amnae dead, but I could die now for I am surely in heaven.” He pulled her back down to lie against his chest. It was not long before they both fell asleep with him still joined to her.

  Epilogue

  Nine months later

  “A

  lasdair, I dinna give a rat’s arse where Lady Beatris is. I dinna care that she is at court and took Sorcha. Let her be the king’s problem. He deserves it for being such a pain ma arse. Mind ye, I still amnae pleased I never received a report from the guardsmen I placed at Sorcha’s croft. They never alerted me when she left in the middle of the night. But I have far more important things to occupy my mind right now.”

  Just as he turned away from Alasdair, a scream rent the air. He charged towards the stairs. He had
had all he could take. The screams had been coming all morning, and he was sure he was about to lose his mind. He was met with a wall of men. All four of his brothers-by-marriage blocked his way just as they had every time he tried to go to his wife.

  Liam Sinclair sipped his whisky by the fire. He was willing to acknowledge it was far too early to be drinking, and it was already his third cup, but it was the only way he would make it through the day while hearing his daughter in pain. He had been through it five times before with his own wife, and it did not get any easier. He felt for the poor man. Tristan had maintained control of himself longer than Liam expected, but the Sinclair knew time was growing short. At least one of his sons would come away with bruises and probably a broken nose. He had broken his own brother’s nose when his wife labored with Callum. It had only taken that one shattering punch for anyone to ever keep him from his wife again.

  “Move out of ma way now, or I will move ye all. I will see ma wife.” Tristan hissed through his teeth. He clenched his hands, and his fists were white. A vein was bulging in his neck and in his temple. He could not take it any longer. He had tried to do what the midwife said and to wait below stairs, but if he heard her scream one more time, he would commit bloody murder to anyone who stood in his way. He tried to take a few calming breaths, but another scream rang through the keep.

  “That’s it. I’m done waiting.” He swung his right fist into Callum’s gut, and his left fist into Alexander’s jaw. They both staggered, and he tried to push through the space between them. Tavish and Magnus latched on to his arms, and he twisted to kick Tavish in the groin. Tavish released him. He headbutted Magnus, but the giant beast laughed. He charged towards the stairs, and Magnus jumped onto his back. Tristan was too livid and too determined to get to his wife to shake Magnus free. He was unable to take the stairs two and three at a time with the extra weight, but he still climbed to the top. Magnus tried to drag his feet and pull him backwards, but they were too evenly matched in strength. They got to Tristan’s chamber door, and he stopped.

 

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