by Mary Wine
He did, too, with his blond hair sticking up and the rest of him bound by the fabric. The Lindseys had left him standing on his feet and really quite helpless, if such a thing were possible.
Rolfe sent her a disapproving glare when she softly snickered.
“Duncan even included a book of poetry for yer enjoyment, but ye’ll have to unwrap a few layers if ye want to find it.”
“I’m astonished to hear he even knows what poetry is, much less has a book of it.”
She was moving toward Rolfe, pulling one of the ends of the fabric free from where it was tucked into a fold. “There is a small fortune in cloth here.”
“Aye,” Rolfe agreed. “Although, for all Duncan’s insisting that it is a wedding present for ye, I rather believe his true intent was to make it so I must wait on yer whim to release me.”
Katherine stopped. She’d begun to circle him, unwinding the cloth, but froze as she remembered exactly what they were expected to do.
Her belly decided to knot as her hands started to shake.
Rolfe let out a very male, frustrated sound. “I suppose I’d be insensitive if I growled at ye to get on with it?”
“You would.”
Of course, she’d be a coward to stand there behind him, shivering over consummating wedding vows she’d decided to willingly take.
“And if I plead for mercy?”
She laughed. “You would never do any such thing.” But the break in the tension allowed her to get her feet to begin moving again. Katherine came around in front of him but kept her gaze on her work, succeeding in pulling a full measure of blue wool from him.
There were still at least three more lengths wound around him.
“Do nae doubt me, lass,” he continued. “The truth of the matter is, I took a bath, but I am sweating like it’s the dead of summer. So, if ye do nae release me soon, I believe I am threatening ye with the company of a man who smells less than sweet.”
“Well, I shall take that under consideration.”
She freed another length of wool, this one a brown color. “Is this a customary way to deliver a bridegroom?”
Rolfe snorted. “Only when Duncan Lindsey thinks I will no’ get the opportunity to repay his…kindness.”
“Hmm.” She held up the third length of fabric and admired the dark-ruby hue. “Perhaps he wishes to soften the blow of my having no dowry.”
“Katherine.”
There was a firm note in his tone. He wanted her to look at him and she knew it, yet she still worried her lip before she lifted her chin and locked gazes with him.
“If I wanted a fat dowry, I’d have wed years ago.”
There was a light in his eyes that made her tremble deep down inside her body. The reaction defied her understanding, and yet she felt it so keenly, it didn’t matter that she failed to make sense of it.
That was the way it was with Rolfe McTavish.
“I wanted ye,” he muttered in a husky tone. “I wanted more than to bed ye. I wanted to know ye are mine.”
She’d pulled another length from him and stood for a moment as she simply released it and let it settle to the floor. “There will be plenty who tell you how foolish it is to wed me for a tumble.”
His lips twitched. She’d seen him grin before, but this was something different, something more intimate. It was roguish to say the least, cocksure as well, but there was a promise lurking in his eyes that made her breath catch before she circled behind him yet again and pulled another layer away from him.
He shrugged, dislodging the remaining layers and sending them down his body. She stepped back and enjoyed the sight of him emerging from the cocoon, because he was too strong a creature to be bound. There was a majestic quality in his strength that mesmerized her.
He kicked the fabric to the side and contemplated her. The Lindsey plaid she’d wrapped around her for warmth was lying discarded on a chair. She stood there in her smock, feeling as though the candles behind her made it nearly transparent.
Yet where she’d been nervous, she was now curious to see what he made of her.
Would he be disappointed in his bargain?
For all she brought to him was herself. If he stayed, it was because he wanted to, and she found that idea endearing.
It felt as if the chamber had shrunk, now that he was free. He fixed her with a long stare before he grinned at her.
“Ye have the devil’s own courage, Kat.”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Some call me hellion for it.” She plucked the book from where it lay nestled in the fabric and set it on a table before she turned to look back at him. “Best know I have no plans to adopt more submissive ways. If that displeases you, the door is behind you.”
He snorted before laughing outright at her brazenness. The Lindseys had wrapped him up in all his clothing. He started to work the buttons on his doublet as he finished chuckling. He locked stares with her before he firmly tossed it aside.
Her mouth went dry.
But her insides felt as if they were heating.
“I am no’ going anywhere.”
“So I see.” It had become impossible to stand still. She shifted slowly away from him, but her attention remained fixed on him as he pulled the end of his wide belt free.
You know what a man looks like…
Yes.
However, this was Rolfe. The man who made her breath catch. It was vastly different somehow. Time was moving very slowly as he tugged on that end of leather to release the buckle, and then it was free, the pleats of his kilts sagging and slipping down his hips.
It left him in his shirt and boots. Katherine found that pleasing because they were somehow more evenly matched now, even if she’d be a fool to think he wasn’t stronger than she was.
No, it wasn’t about raw strength.
“Do nae fear me, Kat.” His voice had become husky, but there was a genuine note of concern in it, too. One that warmed her heart.
“I wouldn’t have signed the contracts if I did.”
She wasn’t sure she’d thought about her answer, only that the words were very true and they pleased him. She watched his expression change to one of enjoyment. Not the same as when he’d been laughing—no, this was a deeply personal sort of satisfaction.
He’d sat down to work his boots off. The fire popped, a log shifting and sending up a spray of crimson sparks while Rolfe finished getting out of his boots. He stood and faced her, contemplating the way she’d come to stop in the shadows between the bedchamber and the arched opening that led to the receiving portion of the chamber.
She likely looked frightened.
Well, at the very least, nervous.
Even admitting that wasn’t enough to get her feet to move toward him.
It would be best.
Courageous.
And yet, she lingered in… Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what to call it. Part of her was caught in a rush of anticipation, while the other seemed to be embracing doubts about what she was doing.
“Are ye hungry?” he asked. “Ye did nae eat very much.”
Katherine shook her head. “The corset was snug.”
He cast a glance at the dress where it was draped over the chairs.
“I hope ye did nae mind that the dress was nae made for ye.”
“That sort of life was lost years ago when Morton stole me from England,” she answered. “I have not longed for it.”
“No’ even now?” he asked quietly.
She ended up smiling. “Especially not now. There are some things that Scotland and England have in common, and one is the expectation of children wedding whom their parents choose.”
Rolfe joined her in grinning. He was moving toward her, leaving the light behind, which suited her well. Of course, she had to tip her head back to maintain eye contact with him as he neared,
and his size made her heart accelerate.
“Ye do nae think I would be yer kin’s choice of groom?” he asked, a single step from her.
“No more than I am your father’s.”
Rolfe reached out and settled his hand against the side of her face. She shuddered with the contact, so intensely aware of him.
“Ye’re mine.”
He spoke in a raspy whisper before pressing his lips against hers. He’d intended it to be a soft kiss that wasn’t too startling, but she rose onto her toes so she could kiss him back, and it felt as though something snapped inside her. A leash that had been holding her back, because now she reached for him, hooking her hands into his shirt as she tried to mimic the way he’d kissed her before.
The hard, determined way.
She didn’t want soft.
She wanted him.
Rolfe didn’t disappoint her. He took her kiss as permission to discard his attempt at being gentle. His chest vibrated with a growl as he closed his arm around her body and clamped her against him. His hand slid across her cheek and into her hair, where he closed his fingers into a fist that tugged the strands of her hair tight.
Then his mouth claimed hers in a demand that sent a jolt down to her toes. It was raw and hungry, the way he moved her mouth beneath his. There was a touch from his tongue, and then he was pressing her mouth open wide so he could thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth.
She let out a little moan.
He ripped his head away from hers in response, gaining another little cry from her.
“No, don’t let me think.”
He frowned at her, holding her head in place and keeping her from following him. “I am nae a beast. It does no’ have to be this very moment.”
But he was hard. His member was a solid length pressed against her belly. She’d seen them before, man parts, but now she felt something entirely new in regards to them. She wanted him inside her.
“I like your strength.”
She wasn’t entirely certain what she meant, but understanding flashed in his eyes a moment before he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed. It seemed perfectly correct, in all its wickedness.
Honestly, that wickedness made it even more enticing as Rolfe crawled into the bed with her. He was hot and heavy, and that felt so very good against her flesh.
So right.
As though she’d been made just for the purpose of fitting against him.
“I do…nae…want to hurt ye,” he muttered against her neck, pressing tiny kisses against skin that was unbelievably sensitive. The kisses stirred the cravings inside her, making her writhe against him in an effort to get closer.
“It cannot hurt so terribly,” she answered him. “Not with the way the maids defy the Church to tryst.”
She slid her hands beneath his shirt, absorbing the way he felt. She had never thought she might enjoy touching another human being so very much.
“Where the devil did ye see that?”
He’d lifted his head and was glaring at her.
“You know I trained in the yard, as a boy.”
Her answer hit him, making him blink, right before Rolfe McTavish did something she’d never thought to see him ever do.
He flushed.
She laughed at him and raised her thigh so his hips slipped between her legs. It felt so very right in a way that she had never imagined carnal intimacy might.
“Would you rather I lay here dreading this?” It was an honest question. Wives were expected to perform their duty in a dignified manner that she doubted included kissing him back. Uncertainty needled her, and she let her hands fall back onto the bed, feeling as if she were being denied the best food on the table in favor of devotion to piety.
“No,” he answered sharply. “Sweet Christ, I think I’d agree to anything ye demand so long as ye put yer hands back on me.”
It was what she wanted, and knowing he agreed was like striking a flint stone over a bowl of tinder. She felt the first teasing sparks hit her skin as she laid her hands on him, arching when it felt as if they were connected at some level of awareness she had never encountered before.
Enchantment?
Bewitchment?
All she knew for sure was that she was intoxicated, and happily so. He shifted, pushing their clothing aside as he settled between her thighs. She opened them wide and sucked in her breath when he touched her folds. The sensation was so acute that she wasn’t sure if it was pain or pleasure.
Only that she wanted him to touch her again.
“Easy.”
He was cooing to her, his tone soothing as he stroked her open sex. She was wet, and he teased the sensitive folds with delicate touches of his fingertips.
“I’ll…no…rush…ye…”
Frustration edged his tone, but he seemed to be fighting the urge to get on with claiming her. She wanted that, too, and shifted beneath him, seeking out his member. She’d never felt empty before; now, it seemed to be the single thought she could manage. Everything had melted away beneath the feeling of his hard body.
“No…no’ just yet.”
He lowered more of his weight onto her, imprisoning her beneath him as he stroked her folds, drawing her wetness from where it emerged from the center of her body.
“Rolfe…”
He made a soft, male sound of amusement under his breath. “I like the sound of me name on yer lips.”
He pressed a kiss on her, all the while teasing her spread sex. She writhed beneath him, gasping when he touched a spot at the top of her sex.
“I like that sound even more.”
He sounded arrogant now, pleased in a very male fashion. Part of her recognized that, even if it defied her understanding completely. All she knew was that it was too difficult to keep her eyes open. She was lifting her hips up toward his hand, her lips parting because containing everything inside herself was completely impossible now.
There was too much sensation, too much tension twisting beneath his fingertips. She wanted something so badly that she was straining toward it. Desperation drew her muscles tight as she felt her abdomen ache from her effort to press herself more firmly against his touch.
Then it all burst, like a bubble above her face. She felt the tiny drops of water splattering all over her skin, in a hundred different places. Pleasure ripped through her, holding her in its grasp for moments that felt like hours before she was dropped back into reality, a panting mass of quivering flesh.
Her cheeks stung as she realized he’d watched her through the climax.
“Do nae be shy,” he muttered as he kissed her softly. “If I wanted to wed for duty, I could have done so years ago. I crave yer passion, and I will nae be content without it in our bed.”
They were in shadow, but she saw the glitter in his eyes, could see the way his jaw was tight, while his tone conveyed his determination. She relaxed beneath him, cradling him between her thighs.
“Then come to me.” Her voice was husky, and she lifted her hips in invitation.
She watched the muscles running down his neck cord. He nodded, his teeth clenched as he moved, and she felt the first touch of his member against her sex. It was hard and yet slid easily into the slickness he’d drawn from her body.
The first thrust only drove his length halfway into her. She gasped as her passage stung, feeling as if the skin was being ripped. But he withdrew, granting her a moment to suck in a breath before he was thrusting deep, opening her wide.
He caught her hands when she raised them in defense, pressing them to the surface of the bed as he remained lodged deep inside her. What had been white-hot pain suddenly eased, like a scab jerked off the surface of a partially healed wound. One moment, it was agony, and the next, bearable.
The moment she sucked in a deep breath, the cravings returned. They were deep inside her
, echoes of the intense feelings that had drawn her tight right before pleasure burst through her, but she knew what they promised now and was eager for the satisfaction that might be gained.
“More,” she prompted him.
He let out a half bark of male amusement before she felt him shift his body above hers, withdrawing his length and driving it back into her with a smooth thrust that made her gasp when he lodged himself completely within her.
“I’ll happily give ye plenty more.”
He was as good as his word, moving with a pace that was slow and easy, helping her find the rhythm. He smoothed the hair back from her face and then held on to it as he began to move faster. His chest filled and emptied faster, his breath rasping between his teeth as she felt him growing harder. The bubble was growing tighter inside her, the approaching moment beckoning to her as she strained up toward him.
He was holding back; she felt him struggling as she clawed at his arms in need. It was all-consuming, the boundaries of right and wrong dissolving into a storm of cravings and demands from her flesh. She wanted to be taken and he didn’t disappoint her, pinning her beneath him as he drove his cock into her over and over until she burst.
Pleasure wrung her body and tossed her against the wall. She was gasping, straining upward when she felt him slam his cock deep into her and groan. His hot seed flooded her, spurting against her insides as his hand tightened in her hair. For just a moment, there was pain, and it enhanced the moment in a manner she couldn’t completely explain, but it unleashed another ripple of satisfaction. One born from the knowledge that he was stronger than her.
She didn’t know what it meant, couldn’t form serious thoughts if she had needed to. Her body felt heavy and more satisfied than she’d ever imagined possible. So she didn’t bother to open her eyes, but drifted off into sleep while wrapped in bliss.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to face her circumstances.
* * *
Gordon land
“He’ll no’ last long.”
Diocail nodded once in response to the healer before the man made his way out of the laird’s chamber on shuffling footsteps.
“Bury that bastard in unhallowed ground,” Colum growled from his bed.