Now, though, sitting next to her at the head of the table, surrounded by friends and family sated with their wedding feast, Alex had developed a case of nerves. He’d been with women before, of course. But the objective of those encounters had been his pleasure. In a matter of minutes, he would be called upon to please his wife, and he hadn’t a bloody clue how to do it.
“Alex?”
He turned abruptly to his bride seated on his right.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
Magnus began another in a seemingly endless round of toasts, first to the married couple, then to the Laird and Lady Balforss, then to Ewan MacBeath. At the moment, Magnus was toasting Hercules for his courage and strength. If this continued much longer, Alex would be too drunk to bed his wife.
“Nae lass. Nothing’s wrong.” He lifted his glass to the dog. “How do you fare, love?”
“It’s well past midnight. Do you think anyone would notice if we slipped away?” She placed a warm hand on his thigh, and he roused instantly to her touch. Apparently, his soldier had no doubts about its ability to please his wife.
He cleared his throat. “Father, Mother,” he announced, gathering the attention of those at the table. “Family and friends, Lucy and I thank you for your love and well wishes. We are lucky to be blessed with your presence at our wedding table. Stay and enjoy my father’s whisky for as long as it lasts. It’s time for my wife and me to retire. Good night.”
Alex endured a few congratulatory slaps on the back while he waited for Lucy to kiss his parents good night. It was no easy thing for a man to announce to a room full of people he was about to bed his wife, but he thought he had done it brawly.
Alex and Lucy left their wedding guests behind, laughter echoing throughout Balforss. How many Sinclair men before him had spent their wedding night under this happy roof? His parents, his grandparents, his great-grandparents? Five generations, at least. He led his wife upstairs without a word, his heart thrumming inside his chest. Once inside his room, he latched the door. Someone, Haddie most likely, had lit at least a dozen candles and placed heather on the pillows.
“What do we do now?” Lucy asked, her eyes reflecting the same excitement Alex felt.
“First, I must tell you something.”
“I’m listening.”
“Good because this is important. I mean it’s important I tell you this.”
“Tell me what?”
“I love you.”
“I know. And I love you,” she said.
“No. That’s not what I mean.”
“You’ve changed your mind?”
“Yes. I mean no,” he said, and held her steady. “This is not coming out right. Let me start again.”
“All right.” She looked very concerned.
“I had two worrisome days to think of nothing but you. I always assumed I would fall in love with you after we married. I was so wrong, Lucy. Because you see, I was already in love with you. I have loved you since the day I met you.” He saw tears glistening in her eyes and hurried to finish. “When I was a boy of eleven, I must have known even then I would be the one to love and protect you. Do you remember the oath I made to your father?”
“You and my father both mentioned the oath, but I don’t remember.”
“I gave him my solemn oath that I would serve and protect you with my life. I meant it then, and I mean it now. I ken I was as much in love with you then as a boy could be. It was as if I pledged my troth to you that day. I was too young to see the oath as a promise to marry you. But it’s clear to me now.”
Tears streamed down Lucy’s cheeks. He used his thumb to wipe them away.
“I had to tell you before I take you to my bed and make you mine forever. I’ve made so many mistakes because I’ve been a coward. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you.”
“Oh, Alex.” Her chin dimpled. “I was too proud to tell you I love you. Think of all the pain we could have avoided if—”
“Wheesht now. Dinnae think of what might have been. It’s all behind us, and we’re the better for it. Think only of the future.”
When Alex kissed her, Lucy’s body seemed to melt against his. As their kiss deepened, he ran his hands down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her to him. They parted lips long enough for him to whisper, “God, Lucy. You make me want you so much. I cannae wait any longer. Will you have me?”
…
The room had already begun to spin even before Alex asked, “Will you have me?” four words that scorched their way down her body and settled between her legs.
“Yes, Alex. Make me your wife.”
She trembled both from anticipation and nervousness. He seemed to sense her trepidation and loosened his grip on her behind.
“As it’s your first time, we’ll go slow,” he said. “If I do anything you dinnae like, you’ll tell me, aye? And I’ll stop.”
Lucy nodded.
“And if I do something you do like, you’ll tell me, aye? That way, I’ll know to do it more. I want to please you.”
“I want to please you, too.”
“First,” he said, touching his lips lightly to her forehead. “We undress each other. Very slowly. Would you like that, wife?”
“Yes, please.” She felt as though her body was becoming liquid in her husband’s hands.
“Turn around, love. I’ll start with your buttons.”
She bent her head and pulled the locks of curls that had escaped her coiffure aside. He mumbled a few mild oaths as he struggled with the tiny buttons. Thankfully, there were only five. When he finished, he trailed warm kisses from her shoulder to her ear, making her shiver with delight.
He undressed her slowly, deliberately, mindfully. As each article of clothing dropped from her body, he laid kisses on her newly bared skin. Neck, chest, shoulder, wrist, the inside of her elbow. The process was so deliciously slow that, when at last her shift floated down and puddled at her feet, she felt liberated by her nakedness. Flushed with sexual freedom. Freed from guilt over her desire for Alex.
She stepped back from her husband to allow him a better look, a brazen act but so, so exciting. She raised both arms and turned a full circle for his benefit. When she faced Alex again, he stared at her legs, looking crestfallen. She dropped her arms and covered herself.
“You don’t like what you see?” she said, suddenly feeling like she wanted to run away.
Alex shook his head. “You’re beautiful, but the marks those animals made…” He dropped to his knees in front of her. Looking down, she saw the ugly bruises on her thighs where the man had held her down. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I should have come sooner.” He caressed her thighs and gently kissed the bruises.
Lucy laid a hand on his head as he trailed soft wet kisses up her left leg to her belly. “Cuts and bruises will disappear,” she said. “Our love will last forever.”
Alex paused, inhaled deeply, and said, “You smell so good.”
She tugged the ribbon from his queue, freeing the braided red hair, and raked the fingers of both her hands through.
He stood. “Will you take your hair down for me?”
One by one, Lucy pulled out the combs and hairpins holding her curls on top of her head until the dark mass fell down her back and over her shoulders.
Alex let out his breath in one whoosh. “Lovely.”
“My turn, now.”
Her husband wasn’t nearly as biddable as she. Undressing an octopus would have been easier. While she struggled with his stock and waistcoat, he was busy fondling her breasts with fascination. Very distracting. Not until she applied nimble fingers to unbuckling his kilt, did his attention stray from her pebbled nipples to the progress of her hands.
Once freed, his member sprang away from his body and bobbed joyously between them. Lucy gasped. She didn’t expect it to be so…animated. Before she had an opportunity to explore his part more carefully, Alex lost patience with the process. He tore his shirt over his head
, toed off his boots, and plastered his bared chest against her. They sighed in unison when they connected skin to skin.
“Does your wound pain you, Alex?” She brushed her hand lightly over his bandaged side.
“Believe me, love. I dinnae feel anything but you right now.”
He slid his big hands down her back, splayed his fingers around her bum cheeks, and squeezed, as if testing their ripeness. Following his lead, she cupped her hands around his smooth, hard buttocks. The sound he made, a cross between a groan and a growl, pleased her, as did the feel of him pressed against her belly. He was hard as brass.
Alex released his hold and pulled back the linens, wordlessly ushering her into his bed. His breath quick and his movements urgent, Lucy complied, sinking deep into the downy mattress. He crawled cat-like onto the bed, nudged her legs open with a knee, and hovered over her.
Shadowed in the candlelight, he appeared much larger. Big and threatening, like an animal. The way the light caught in his eyes gave him an almost demonic look. Uneasiness swept through her. The image of the horrible man in the cell flickered in her memory.
“Alex?”
The beast growled and lowered his head to bite her breast.
“Stop.”
The looming body froze. “I’m sorry, love. Did I do something wrong?” Alex asked, his voice warm and solicitous.
Reassured that the broad shoulders belonged to a man and not a monster, the tension in her body released. “No. I just got a little scared.” She reached a hand to his cheek to make certain the man was really Alex.
He shifted his body to lie next to her, allowing the candlelight to reach his face. “I went too fast. I’ll slow down.” He bent his mouth to hers, his tongue teasing her lips with a sweet, soft kiss. When he drew back, he lifted to his elbow and propped his head in his hand. “I want you too much. Every part of my body wants…” He played with a lock of her hair, drawing it out, letting the silky tress slip through his fingers.
“What does your body want?” she asked, feeling light-headed.
“You,” he said, his voice low. He brushed the back of his knuckles across her nipples, making them tighten and ache.
Lucy drew in a sharp breath and let it out again slowly. He raked his eyes the length of her nakedness, then dragged the tips of his fingers down the middle of her chest, her belly, and paused at the triangle of curls between her thighs. She liked the way he looked at her. Hungry. As if he wanted to devour her. He moved his head down and placed his mouth on her right nipple and sucked. Shocked at the intense sensation, Lucy writhed involuntarily.
Alex released her nipple. “Is this good, love?” At her moan of agreement, he bent his attention to the other. Her hips began to move in answer to his ministrations.
“I’m ready to try again,” she said, realizing every part of her body wanted him.
He positioned himself between her legs again, cradling his hips against hers and propping the bulk of his weight on his elbows. His arms and legs, trembling with effort or need, made the mattress beneath her vibrate. His brow furrowed with intense concentration.
“Alex,” she whispered. His eyes met hers. “Kiss me.”
She felt his body relax against her, a comforting weight. He covered her mouth with his, slipping his tongue past her lips, her teeth. Was he mimicking with his tongue what he would do when he took her? A throbbing need centered between her legs demanded she let her thighs spread farther apart.
“Oh, God, yes.” Alex pressed against her, seeking entry. Lucy raised her knees. “That’s it, love. Wrap your legs around me.”
He pressed inward, withdrew, and pushed further in. Lucy felt a sharp pinch and yelped.
Alex froze, breathing hard through his nose. Eyes shut tight in concentration. “Sorry, love. Does it still hurt?”
From the way he spoke, it sounded like he was the one in pain. “No. I’m all right.”
Slowly, carefully, he began moving, establishing an increasing rhythm. The new and exotic feel of him inside her erased the initial sting of his invasion. Gradually, her hips moved in answer to his. The throbbing sensation grew more intense each time their bodies met at that slippery junction. And oh, how lovely, how very, very, warm and lovely—
“Let go, Lucy. Surrender to me. Let me please you.”
Her lips formed a taut O but no sound came out. Lucy fisted the bed linens and held on as the sensation rose, crested, and crashed over the edge, sweeping her body and all reason away with it.
“Alex.” She breathed his name again. “Oh, Alex.” With each surge of ecstasy pulsating inside her, she cried out, “Oh, oh, oh.”
Alex released what sounded to her like a cry of victory before jerking once, twice, and stilling. Hovering above her, he panted. Beads of perspiration glistened on his forehead and sweat sheened his torso like a hard-ridden horse. Or perhaps she was the horse and he the rider?
Once he caught his breath, a wide smile spread across his face.
“Did I serve you well, wife?”
“Yes, master.”
Alex laughed and buried his head in Lucy’s neck. “Jesus, God, Lucy. Feel my heart.”
She laughed. “It’s beating so hard. Are you sure you’re not dying on me?”
“If I do, I die a happy man.”
…
He made love to her twice more. Slowly. Lazily. She surprised him with her enthusiasm and curiosity. He lasted longer each time they joined. And with each joining his vixen bride’s cries of pleasure brought him home.
When dawn keeked through the shutters, Lucy slept on her side, cradled in his right arm, her hands curled under her chin and her right leg slung over his. The bedclothes lay twisted and tangled around their limbs, making it difficult to tell where his body began and hers ended.
He hadn’t slept at all last night. How could he when he was so conscious of the person lying next to him? He’d never shared a bed with a woman before. Who knew sleeping with one’s wife would take so much getting used to?
She stirred and then rolled away from him without fully waking, settling herself in a secluded corner of his big bed, offering him a glorious view of her backside.
Alex covered her body with the linen before getting out of bed, then dressed himself as quickly and quietly as possible. With boots in hand, he tip-toed to the door. Just as he reached for the knob, he heard, “Alex?”
“Go back to sleep, love.”
She rose to one elbow and rubbed her eyes. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve something to see to before breakfast.”
“What?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Lucy closed her eyes and burrowed into the bedclothes. “Mm. I like surprises,” she purred.
At the bottom of the stairs, he pulled his boots on. Mrs. Swenson and one of the kitchen maids were setting the table for breakfast. He’d have to hurry before the whole house came alive.
Trotting toward the stable, he called out for Peter.
The groom emerged from the stable with curry brush in hand and a smile on his face that warmed his heart.
“All recovered, man?”
“Aye, sir.” Had the boy grown since he last saw him?
“I have an important job for you this morning. I want you to give Apollo a good grooming—a wash and a brush. Make his tail and mane shine. Then saddle him and bring him ’round to the front of the house after breakfast. Got that?”
“Aye, sir. You can count on me,” Peter called, already running back toward the stable.
When Alex returned to his room, he was disappointed to find his wife no longer in his bed. Instead, he found Haddie tidying the bedchamber.
“Where’s Miss Lucy?”
“In her room, taking a bath.” Haddie pulled the bed linens off the mattress.
When he caught sight of a red splotch as she dragged the sheet off the bed—the blood from Lucy’s maidenhead—he called out a little too sharply, “Wait.”
Haddie’s eyes dropped to the linen an
d bounced back up to meet his, immediately understanding what he was about. People often saved the linens from their wedding bed—some as proof of the bride’s purity, others as trophies. Alex wanted to save the precious linen so that he might never forget the best night of his life. Haddie left the bedchamber, closing the door behind her. He folded the sheet carefully and tucked it away in the bottom drawer of his chest, where he kept all his most treasured possessions.
He smiled at the humming coming from the next room. A songbird she was not. He knocked on the door connecting their rooms. “Lucy, can I come in?”
“I’m bathing,” she called.
Alex chafed at her refusal. “I know. I want to come in and talk to you.”
“After I’m done bathing.”
Maddening. Lucy was his wife now. She was obligated to obey him. “I’m coming in.”
“No.”
He pulled the door open and hurdled over the chest blocking his entrance. Lucy sat folded into the wooden bathing tub, only her head, shoulders, and knees peeking above the water’s surface. He took an odd delight in her shocked expression, blue eyes wide and pretty mouth open.
“But the door was…” She huffed. “You mean you could have come in at any time?”
“Aye. And I didnae because we werenae married. But as you’re my wife, and I am your master, from now on, I forbid you to shut the door between our rooms. And I willnae tolerate you disobeying my—oh.”
Lucy rose up out of the tub, water sluicing down her curves and soapsuds clinging to her breasts.
Speechless, Alex stared at his naked wife.
“Close your mouth, Alex.”
His teeth clacked together.
“What were you saying about a surprise?”
…
“Keep them shut.” Alex led Lucy outside by the hand. “No peeking.”
She shuffled hesitantly, testing each step. He positioned her in front of Peter and the snow-white gelding.
“All right, then. You can open them now.”
He watched her carefully, not wanting to miss her reaction. She opened her eyes, blinked, then looked to him, clearly confused.
Tying the Scot Page 29