by K. E. Saxon
A twinkle came into his eye and his gaze softened, warmed, as it slid over the area in question. “Well...with your petite frame, believe me...to a man, it looks as tho’ they are.”
A hot thrill of excitement traveled over her skin, causing her stomach to quiver as the peaks of her breasts pebbled under the soft fabric, and that other place, where a man would someday mate with her, to tighten. “I’ll go change.”
Callum reached out and grabbed hold of her hand before she could take a step. “Nay, no need. The gown becomes you—and ‘twas a gift from my grandmother, was it not? Surely, she would be hurt should you not wear the thing this eve, as she intended.”
* * *
Callum watched Branwenn from across the hall. She was now dancing with his stepfather. She’d danced with every male member of the household, or so it seemed, at least twice. Lord, how he craved to be near her, to hold her hand as they danced to the piper’s tune. But, he dared not. For he knew if he touched her while she wore that gown, he’d do something very, very, very stupid. Like kiss her in front of everyone. Or drag her off to his chamber and kiss her even more deeply before he stripped that red gown from her pale, creamy body and burrowed his face in those lush breasts he’d had no idea had been hiding all these moons under her clothes. Aye, he’d best keep his distance.
And then he was struck by a sudden stray thought. His eyes narrowed and he turned his gaze to his Grandmother. What, he wondered, was her game?
* * *
Bao and Daniel stood with their grandmother and their aunt Maggie across the chamber, watching in amusement, the play of emotions that moved across Callum’s visage as he avidly watched Branwenn swirling with Laird MacGregor in a dance. “Cupid’s arrow has definitely hit its mark, would you not agree, Bao?” Maggie asked.
Daniel answered. “Aye. And not only his heart, but other parts as well,” he said irritably, noting where Callum’s eyes were glued.
Bao’s brows slammed together, too, just now seeing the exact position of Callum’s sights as well.
Lady Maclean patted Daniel’s arm. “Do not be such a prig, Daniel. Why, how else should he feel? I do want to see great-grandbabes from this match, after all.”
* * *
Branwenn finished the dance with Laird MacGregor and, tired of waiting for Callum to ask her, she decided to ask him for a dance. She walked with clear determination toward him, a bright smile plastered on her countenance to hide the dire fear of refusal she felt. Her heart pounding, she stopped before him and said cheekily, “Daniel told everyone you’re not dancing because you got kneed in your manly parts on the training field this afternoon and their swollen. Everyone laughed of course.” If this didn’t get him out on the floor, he was not the man she thought him to be—proud and cocky.
Callum ground his teeth together and swallowed a growl. He was going to kill Daniel. Without saying a word, he took Branwenn’s arm and led her to the area where the others were dancing. He could do this. He could. The dance would only last a few minutes and then he would leave. Because, he truly could not trust himself to keep his hands from her afterward. Mayhap, he thought, turning an evil eye on his much-too forthcoming cousin—he had been kneed, but that was decidedly not why he was not dancing; he’d been wearing a groin plate, for Christ’s sake—and decided a little retribution was in order. Mayhap a wrestling match. And, if he was very thorough, he’d tire himself to the point where his dreams would not be filled with the lush body of the lass beside him. Nor, he added, his stomach quivering, that carmine mouth of hers either.
* * *
After her brothers and Callum left the great hall, Branwenn made a very big decision. Tonight, she’d give her virginity to the man she loved. For, if Gaiallard de Montfort came for her, she may for evermore be forced to mate with that horrid creature. And once, just once, she wanted to know what it felt like to make love to someone for whom she cared deeply—and someone whom she knew—nay, he did not love her, but—desired her. Aye, he desired her. That much had been made plain to her these past days. And, for what she had in mind, that would have to be enough.
* * *
Callum callapsed on his bed, exhausted from the wrestling matches he had had with both Daniel and Bao after the feast. He’d been so drenched with sweat when they’d finished that he’d walked to the small inlet of the sea that was near to the MacGregor fortress, and taken a bath in its cold depths. Afterward, he’d swum awhile, slicing through the water in slow strokes to work out the tension in his muscles. Then he’d taken some of the sleep tonic Daniel had made for him after Lara’s death. Within moments he was deeply asleep.
* * *
Branwenn crept into Callum’s room, tensing at the snick the door made as she closed it behind her. She waited a moment with her palms pressed on the door behind her back as she leaned against them, in case he awakened and she had to make a quick exit.
When she only heard the deep cadence of his breathing as he slumbered, she cautiously began the seemingly long journey over to his bed. Silently stepping out of her carmine gown and flower-embroidered chemise—she’d left the filet in her chamber—she carefully lifted her knee to the mattress. Fearful of waking him before she was ready, she slowly leaned down onto her hands and climbed in next to him. She let out the breath she had been holding once she was settled on her side facing him, grateful that she’d been able to get in without rocking the mattress very much.
Breathing in deeply, she took in the intoxicating smell of him. He smelled of heat and sandalwood—and man. Her mouth watered as she imagined running her tongue over his lips, the way he had done to hers that day outside the chapel.
He lay on his back, shockingly nude and obviously deep in slumber, perfect for her plan. She wished she could light a candle so she could view him fully, but worried that he’d be repulsed by the marks on her frame, should he learn of them. Thankfully, she’d seen enough of what a man looked like (though she’d never admit as much to her brother!) that day by the fall two summers past, when she’d watched Bao make love to Jesslyn, to know how things were done, and Callum’s explaining the process to her the day in the sea cave had added to her understanding.
Her heart pounding with excitement and trepidation, she stroked her hand along his broad chest, her palms tingling with the contact of the crisp hairs that grew there. From there, she moved her hand to stroke the bulging muscles of his upper arm. He sighed and mumbled something she could not understand and then placed his large palm on her bent knee, absently rubbing his fingers along the crease. She tensed for a moment until she realized he remained asleep. Good. She didn’t want him to awaken until she had him where she wanted him.
Deciding she must make haste to do just that, she stroked her hand down his torso, coddling his already growing manhood in her hand. Never having seen a man’s sex in its aroused state before (she’d been too far away from her brother and Jesslyn to see any actual details, just some flesh colored thing jutting out from his groin, and Callum had made it vexingly impossible for her to see him that day in the cave after dousing the flame), she didn’t know exactly how it worked. Callum’s had already been ‘ready’ the two times she’d been near enough to touch it. Still amazed at the size of it, a thrill coursed through her when she felt it become even more large, more hard, more straight, as it rose up from its nesting place against the sacks below, making her fingers open wider as it grew. Wanting to feel the whole length that was barely visible in the darkness, she held him in her fist and lightly stroked up to the rounded head, using her fingers to trace the edge and press the tip, learning once more its manly attributes. A loud moan burst from Callum’s throat at her exploration, and yet he still did not awaken.
* * *
Callum was having a very erotic dream. He was lying on a bed of seaweed just inside the mouth of one of the sea caves on the MacGregor land and Branwenn, dressed as the beautiful black-haired water nymph, was treating him to another of her very sensual massages. She seemed to know exactly the place
on the head of his cock that would send a tremor of pleasure rocking through him if she manipulated it and she did it several times in a row drawing a moan from his lips. “Sweet nymph, I ache to feel your mouth on me.”
* * *
Branwenn shot a glance at Callum’s face, thinking he’d wakened and would allow this intimacy with her. But no, he still slumbered. She smiled ruefully. He was dreaming. Good. But, wanting to please him, she opened her mouth and took him in, sliding her tongue around the head and stroking it along its length. The urge to suckle came over her, and she recalled that he’d asked her to do just that the last time. So, she answered the urge, surprised and pleased when he groaned and placed his hands on her head showing her the up-and-down motion he desired from her. She tasted the musky flavor of his seed and knew from their previous encounter how close he was to completion, that she might have gone a bit too far. Not wanting this finished before she’d done what she’d come here to do, she took her mouth from him.
He groaned as if in pain but settled when she straddled him.
* * *
Lifting his hands to her straight hair, Callum tugged on it, bringing her down to meet his mouth. She tasted of raspberries and smelled of the wild pink roses that grew on the edge of the forest. So sweet. Branwenn. Her taste and smell intoxicated him. And her sighs sounded like the ocean breeze in the sea cave. Still believing himself dreaming, so groggy was he from the sleep tonic and exhaustion, he ran his hands down Branwenn, the sea nymph’s, neck and chest to cup the soft, full mounds of her breasts, enchanted by the feel of the nubby tips teasing his palms. Moving further still, he explored her small waist and nicely rounded bottom before stroking his fingers against the wet curls of her labia as he moved his mouth to the nipple of one breast and began to suckle.
* * *
On fire from Callum’s hands and mouth and afraid he’d waken, Branwenn reached down and took his engorged phallus in her hand and positioned him at her entry, pressing down, not knowing if she was doing it correctly.
But, thankfully, Callum evidently knew exactly what to do and was clearly more than ready to fully comply, for he levered his hands on her hips and pushed her down onto him, lifting his own hips up at the same time, which forced her to take him in one harsh push.
“Owwww!!” That hurt much more than she’d expected.
“Hhmmg?” he answered.
Too painful, in fact, Branwenn decided. She leaned forward and placed her hands on the headboard for support as she strained to disengage from him.
Callum wouldn’t allow it. He rolled over on top of her, moving slightly out of her and keeping most of his weight on his elbows. He stroked the hair away from her face, clearly not fully awake. He moved into her again, this time as deep as he could go.
“No, don’t. Oh, God, it hurts!” Branwenn pressed her palms against his chest, bowing her back.
* * *
Callum’s eyes flew open. His breath harsh, he shook his head to clear the fog and gazed down at the woman he was now fully sheathed inside. “Blood of Christ! What the hell are you doing—have you done?!” Callum tried to move off of her, but, perversely, now Branwenn threw her arms around him and pressed her pelvis up as he tried to withdraw from her. “Nay! The damage is already done. Let us finish this. I want to finish this.”
God, she was so beautiful. And lush—those tightly pebbled peaks of her breasts teased through the hair on his chest. And she smelled of woman. He’d been fighting his attraction to her for so many moons now, first because he’d been wed, and then because he knew he must wed her to bed her—and she was not old enough to take on the kind of responsibility that would require. For, with the title of wife, instantly came the title of mother as well. And there had also been the niggling doubt that she held any soft feelings for him. But, this certainly proved he’d been wrong about that. And, the deed was done; the tide had turned; fate—or Branwenn—had stepped in to change everything. And, they would wed. It had to be. A thought struck him then: She had both his mother and his grandmother to aid her in mothering Laire. All at once, those self-imposed shackles of dissent fell away, and his heart soared. He grinned in the darkness.
And then, at last allowing himself to rejoice in the feel of her tight sheath around him, and wanting desperately to taste every portion of her, the temptation proved too great and he acquiesced.
“You’re not ready yet. Let me prepare you first,” he said as he leaned down and kissed her mouth, rubbing his tongue along the inside of her bottom lip before stroking it against her tongue.
“Aye,” Branwenn breathed into his mouth.
He remained inside her, but didn’t move, determined to make her so hot for him, he wouldn’t hurt her again once he began to truly take her.
He trailed kisses across her flushed cheeks and kissed away the cool, crystal-wet teardrops that clung to her lashes before making his way to her ear. Nibbling her earlobe and breathing heavily, he tensed when he felt her canal flex around his arousal. She was so good. Better than his imaginings. Moving down to her breasts, he took one of the rigid peaks into his mouth and laved it with his tongue as he softly suckled. Feeling her sheath softening with hot moisture as he pleasured her, he learned her curves with his hand and slowly rocked into her in shallow movements.
* * *
Overcome with the fulfilling sensation of sharing her naked body with the man she loved and taking his into her own, Branwenn opened her eyes to see her lover’s expression. Were his feelings as acute? She gazed through the darkness and, seeing the intense look of pleasure on his countenance as he made love to her, hearing his soft murmurs of pleasure, his jagged breathing, she thought they might be. He moved his hand between them and stroked a place that sent shivers of pleasure through her. “Oh, God. Aaahhh, what are you doing to me?” she said, her voice strained with need, as he continued manipulating her with his fingers while he began to take deeper strokes into her.
Callum pressed his lips against her ear and murmured, “I’m giving you the pleasure you so generously gave me a moment ago.”
The sharp pain of that first entry and the slight sting of having him motionless inside of her as he kissed her had now been replaced with a pleasurable ache, a straining need for what, she knew not. But it would come from Callum and it would come from this coupling. Moving her hips up to meet his strokes, she raised her hands over her head and arched her back, pressing her breast against his mouth.
* * *
Taking the hint, Callum opened his mouth wide over her lovely, soft-skinned breast—the same breast he’d been craving to devour those dire hours in the great hall earlier—and suckled forcefully, knowing she was close now to her very first release. As he sucked and laved her nipple, he rotated his fingers over her clitoris and began a faster rhythm of entry into her. ‘Twas not long before the muscles of her body tensed. Finally, when her thighs began to tremble powerfully and she met his thrusts with those of her own, he took her over the edge with one final deep push.
* * *
Branwenn shattered, unaware that she’d called out his name. Her whole body quaked with the intense pleasure that the release caused in her, centered around the movement and manipulation by him of her womb and breasts. She felt as if she were bursting into thousands of small stars of ecstasy, each one floating off into the night sky, but reverberating along her nerve endings for long minutes afterward.
* * *
Hearing his name on her lips, and feeling the tight muscles of her canal milking him, Callum felt himself begin to come and quickly pulled out of her, using his hand to bring himself to his final completion. They would wed, but he didn’t want her pregnant before they did so—he wanted no raised eyebrows regarding this match.
Wiping his shaking hand on the coverlet, he lay between her spent thighs and stroked the hair from her hot, damp cheek before kissing her gently on her mouth. They didn’t speak, but she ran her hand up and down the side of his rib cage as he kissed her. Incredibly moved by the gift he’d j
ust received, he left her mouth and placed soft kisses on her cheeks, nose, chin, and brow. Rising up a bit on his elbows, which were braced beside her upper arms, he ran his fingers through her hair and grasped her head in his hands before leaning down to place a tender kiss over the lid of each of her beautiful eyes.
Her contented sigh broke the silence.
“Will you wed me, Branwenn?” he whispered softly into her ear, a grin on his face, for he was sure of the outcome.
Branwenn took in a slow deep breath, still dizzy, her eyes closed as she floated on a cloud of contentment. She answered on the exhale. “Naaaayy.”
* * *
CHAPTER 6
“What mean you, Naaaayy!” Callum leapt from atop her and stood, hands on hips, beside the bed. He turned and quickly lit the taper atop the bedside table.
Branwenn rushed to cover herself with the sheet.
Turning back to her, he said, “Well?”
She couldn’t help it, she allowed them to skim down his long, muscular frame. “That is what was just inside me? But, it felt much bigger when I held it in my hand.”
Callum’s cheeks turned ruddy. “The thing doesn’t stay that size all the time, you sharp-tongued temptress,” he replied, clearly abashed. “Else, it’d be a nuisance, not a pleasure.”
Shrugging, Branwenn closed her eyes and, with a big smile on her lips, said, “Ohhh. I see.” Then another thought struck. Her lids flew open and her gaze settled upon him again. “Why did you not stay inside me to...finish?”
“Because, I want no scandal attached to this marriage. I won’t have you with child before we exchange our vows.”
That made sense, but, for some reason it hurt her feelings that he didn’t want to make a babe with her now. Branwenn narrowed her eyes at him and sat up, her hands on her hips. “So, ‘tis fine to make my poor stomach take it in, but not to give it into my womb—where it belongs!”