His Heart's Home

by Sterling, Stephanie

  Duncan grunted and lifted his head. Ciaran kept touching him, tracing him until he roughly captured her hands.

  “I’m going to make this last all night,” he growled in warning. “You’re never going to forget tonight, so just lie there and enjoy it.”

  “But,” Ciaran puffed, “I want you to enjoy it too!”

  Duncan chuckled thickly. “Believe me, I’m enjoying myself,” he murmured lustily, raking his gaze heavily over his wife’s exquisite body. “You really don’t need to worry about that,” he promised, stripping away Ciaran’s shift so she was completely naked before him. He made a low, appreciative sound in the back of his throat and pushed her back down onto to the mattress, palming her breasts and capturing her mouth as he did so.

  Ciaran whimpered and writhed, clutching at her husband to try and urge him closer. Little bursts of pleasure shot through her body wherever his fingers grazed her skin, but it wasn’t enough. She lifted her hips to grind against him, opened her legs to twist around him, and hoped she might inspire Duncan to lose control.

  “Minx,” he growled, nipping sharply at her skin.

  Ciaran gasped, and Duncan moved against her, bucking into the intimate cradle she had created for him. It felt good, and a little bit wicked. Ciaran could feel Duncan’s body beneath his clothes, rubbing against her where it could serve no purpose other than to arouse her wanton desires.

  “Please?” she panted, fumbling with Duncan’s belt. “Undress?” she begged. She wanted to feel him, to see him. Duncan had taught her what it was to appreciate a man’s body, and now she couldn’t get enough of him. He inspired a hunger inside her so great that it seemed impossible to ever completely sate.

  “Will you be a good girl if I do?” Duncan whispered, helping her with the stiff buckle of his belt.

  “No!” she cried mischievously and reached for him again.

  Duncan shuddered and groaned. Ciaran had such incredible power over his body. Her enthusiastic touch could push him to the brink faster than any other woman he had ever known, not that he wanted such thoughts intruding on his wedding night, so he dutifully pushed them aside.

  He captured her hands and kicked off his trousers, before moving to cover her little body with his own much larger one. He loved the contrasts between them - Ciaran’s soft, lush femininity compared to the hard masculine planes of his own body. He hadn’t ever told her, partly for fear of her reaction, but he loved the way he could dominate her too. She made him feel so virile and powerful.

  “You look very serious,” Ciaran whispered, tiptoeing her fingers down his back.

  Duncan smiled for her. “Bedding one’s wife is a very serious business,” he teased, stroking a hand over her slightly swollen stomach.

  “It is?” Ciaran squeaked, breath catching in the back of her throat when Duncan slipped his hand between her thighs.

  “Oh yes,” Duncan murmured thickly, eyes glittering with desire, but they also shone with something warm and reassuring - something Ciaran still didn’t recognize, and yet loved to see. “It’s a husband’s duty to make sure his wife is completely pleasured.”

  “It is?” Ciaran giggled, although her laugh ended in a delighted moan when Duncan pressed a couple of fingers into her body. “No one ever told me that,” she panted, tensing as Duncan teased her.

  “Well this husband considers it his duty,” he growled, and Ciaran certainly wasn’t going to argue.

  Duncan was determined to make sure this marriage, their marriage, surpassed Ciaran’s first experience of matrimony in every way she could possibly imagine.

  For once in his life he was going to come first - or he was going to die trying to get there. Even Ciaran’s hatred of Sean wasn’t enough for Duncan. He needed everything. He needed her love. He didn’t only want to be a better option than her first husband. He wanted to be the only option. He wanted to know that if Ciaran had her pick of all the men in the world she would choose him.

  “Tell me you want me?” he urged.

  “Of course I do!” she gasped, and then sobbed loudly when her body broke for the first time that night.

  Duncan watched her smugly. He loved making her climax, loved watching her, loved hearing her, loved the simple fact he had brought her to such a peak of ecstasy. He stared at her shamelessly as she tried to recover her senses. The scent of her skin was utterly intoxicating. Duncan hungrily licked his lips and considered his next move. His body was aching, burning with desire, but, amazingly, he was able to put his wife’s needs before his own… More or less…

  ..ooOOoo..

  The months that followed her wedding to Duncan were the most blissful of Ciaran’s life. Everything went smoothly. The boys started school, the weather was mild, Ciaran’s pregnancy progressed smoothly, she had help from Molly around the house, and even the other wives slowly warmed to the new Mrs. MacRae.

  It was like Duncan was her good luck charm. She truly considered herself blessed to have found him, or rather, that he had found her.

  In no time at all, Ciaran was making the preparations for her son’s birth. She was still positive that she was having a boy, and she was proven right when he came into the world with very little fuss. Duncan, it had to be said, was more worried than Ciaran was about the whole thing, young as she was, Ciaran was getting to be an old hand at childbirth.

  She delivered a healthy baby boy late one spring evening. Duncan had to be almost physically barred from the bedroom during her labor, and he was the first face Ciaran saw after their son had been brought into the world. He looked far worse than she did. He was pale and anxious. Ciaran wished she could draw him into her arms and prove that everything was fine.

  “Are you all right?” he croaked, taking her hand gently, while the midwife cleaned the baby.

  “I’m fine,” Ciaran smiled. “A little tired.” She had been through this before after all, although she had never been through it and then had a doting husband worry and fuss over her. It was rather lovely. “Have you seen your son?” she asked, beaming with pride.

  “My son?” he whispered, glancing over at the whimpering bundle.

  “Yes,” Ciaran giggled. “Your son, you remember, the one that all this fuss is about?” she teased, as the midwife bustled over and gave her the baby carefully.

  “My son…” Duncan murmured, staring in awe at the child.

  He had dreamed about this moment for such a long-for such a very long time, he could hardly believe he wasn’t dreaming now. Could that tiny little baby really be his son? He looked so small-so perfect. His little red face scrunched up crossly as he tried and failed to latch on to his mother’s breast.

  “Come on, little one,” Ciaran laughed. “There, that’s it, you can do it,” she cooed, helping him to find his way.

  “Thank you,” Duncan murmured, having to clear his throat as the words choked him with emotion. He had never loved anyone quite like this before-never so fiercely so instantly. “Thank you, Ciaran,” he said huskily, having to blink hard to keep himself in check.

  “Thank you?” she echoed him, looking up from the babe nursing at her breast. “I didn’t do anything special,” she said with smile

  “Ciaran!” Duncan exclaimed so loudly their son stopped feeding. For a second it looked like he would cry, but Ciaran managed to tempt him back to his meal and he settled back down. “You did everything,” Duncan said fiercely, if more quietly.

  “Well, I think you helped a little bit at the beginning,” Ciaran giggled. Duncan chuckled, and watched as, still smiling, his wife closed her eyes for a moment. He reached out to stroke her cheek.

  “Are you very tired?” he asked. The children had wanted to come and see her, but he didn’t know if that was a good idea.

  “Mmm, a little,” she sighed, opening her eyes. “I’ll get up in a minute and fix some supper though,” she told him.

  “You will NOT!” Duncan boomed, unable to believe she would even suggest such a thing.

  “Duncan! Don’t shout!” Ciaran
hissed, gently shushing the baby.

  “Sorry,” Duncan said, and looked contrite. “But you can’t honestly think I’d let you out of bed to start working?” he asked incredulously.

  Ciaran blinked. “Well, I always have before,” she confessed.

  Duncan’s face blackened at the reminder of her previous pregnancies. He loved her other children, but he hated that she had been married to another man before him, especially when that other man had been an absolute beast. Actually, now that he thought about it, Duncan could hardly pretend to be surprised to hear Sean had started working Ciaran to the bone the second she had delivered his children. It was just the sort of despicable stunt he would pull.

  “Duncan?” Ciaran asked timidly.

  He shook away his frown and smiled. “The boys and I can manage, and there’s always Molly if we get desperate.”

  “Oh, but I’m your wife,” Ciaran argued, her brow furrowing in a little frown. “It’s my job to look after you.”

  Duncan chuckled. “No,” he said gently, picking up her free hand and kissing her fingers. “It’s my job to look after you.”

  “You’re going to make me cry,” Ciaran warned him, taking back her hand so she could change the way she was holding the baby. He had finished feeding now, and had dropped instantly off to sleep. “What do you think we should call him?” she mused, looking down into his angelic little face. “Did you have any ideas?”

  Duncan glanced down at his hands and hesitated. “Aye… I did have one…”

  “Oh?” Ciaran smiled. “You never said! What is it?”

  “It’s-” Duncan looked from his wife to his son. “It’s Thomas.”

  “Thomas?” Ciaran tried the name out on her tongue. She glanced down at her sleeping son. Did he look like a Thomas? “What do you think little man?” she whispered. “How do you feel about it?”

  “How do you feel about it?” Duncan asked, and he looked strangely serious.

  “It’s a fine name,” Ciaran nodded, smiling, sensing that this was very important to her husband for some reason-and then it struck her. “Thomas-Thomas was the name of your older brother, wasn’t it?” she asked cautiously, understanding a little better.

  Duncan had still never confided in her the details of what had happened to his brother, but she knew that Duncan had loved him a great deal, and, of course, she knew he was dead.

  “Aye,” Duncan murmured. “I thought-but if you don’t like it-”

  “I like it!” Ciaran interrupted quickly. “Of course he shall be called Thomas!”

  Duncan’s lips twitched. “Why?”

  “Because that’s what you want him to be called,” Ciaran nodded, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

  “Ciaran! You have to want it too!” Duncan exclaimed, looking both amused and exasperated.

  “I do!” she insisted. “I didn’t have anything in mind, and I do think it’s very sweet you want to name him after your brother.”

  “Sweet?” Duncan grunted, obviously taking offense at the term.

  “Well… nice?” Ciaran tried instead. “It shows you must have loved him a very great deal,” she said gently. A dark, painful shadow crossed Duncan’s face, and Ciaran wished she hadn’t said anything. She cuddled her sleeping son closer to her breast.

  “I did love him,” Duncan said at length. His voice was hoarse and strained. “I worshipped him,” he laughed sadly. “Even now, after so many years, I find it hard to believe he’s gone. Sometimes I still expect to see him.”

  “He must have been an amazing man,” Ciaran said quietly. She didn’t want to break the spell, in case Duncan stopped opening up to her, but she couldn’t sit in silence.

  “He was,” Duncan nodded fiercely. “A better man than me.”

  “Duncan, no!” Ciaran gasped. She wouldn’t believe that.

  “It’s all right,” he chuckled. “I made my peace with that fact a long time ago.”

  “It’s not true!” she insisted, speaking just as fiercely as he had done a moment before. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known!”

  Duncan smiled suddenly and kissed her cheek, being careful not to knock baby Thomas as he did so. “Aye, well that’s why I love you,” he chuckled, smoothing a few loose strains of hair behind Ciaran’s ear.

  Ciaran, however, had turned rigid and pale. He loved her? Duncan had never, ever said that before. Could he-did he mean it, truly, or was it just his excitement about the baby talking

  “Ciaran? Is something wrong, lass?” Duncan frowned. “You don’t look well…”

  “I’m sorry. I’m fine!” she insisted quickly.

  “No, I’m sorry,” said Duncan apologetically. “I should be letting you rest, not keeping you talking.”

  “I don’t mind!” Ciaran was quick to reassure him, but Duncan thought it would be for the best if he left her alone to get some sleep.

  “I should just be in the next room if you need me,” he told her soothingly. “And you can always send one of the boys after me if I do need to go out to the barn.”

  “All right,” Ciaran said. She pouted a little, which made Duncan smile.

  “Sleep!” he chuckled. “Do you need me to-?” he looked at Thomas hesitantly.

  “Hrm?” Ciaran murmured. Despite her protests to the contrary, her eyelids were obviously heavy and closing of their own accord. “Oh, take Thomas?” she yawned. She had fixed up a little crib for the baby a few days before. “I can get out and put him-”

  “Ciaran!” Duncan groaned. More than anything he wanted to be able to hold his son for the first time, but he also wanted his wife to realize she didn’t have to do everything herself! “Please?”

  “Well, if you don’t mind?” Ciaran sighed sleepily.

  “Oh Ciaran,” Duncan laughed. He gently took the baby off her and pressed a swift kiss to her lips. “It’s going to take a little while longer to break you of these habits, isn’t it, lass?”

  Ciaran made a confused, incoherent murmured, but she was nearer to sleep than waking, and so Duncan let her rest. He was rather busy himself, gazing down at his son. His son! It suddenly seemed so real! Duncan had seen his share of babies before, but little Thomas had to be the most handsome, the most perfect.

  “I’m going to look after you,” Duncan promised the sleeping baby. “You and your mama, and your brothers and sister,” he told Thomas, as he rather reluctantly placed the baby down in his cradle. He brushed an ever-so-gentle kiss against his little son’s head, and then crept quietly out of the bedroom.

  The moment he stepped out into the main room he was beset upon! “How’s Ma?” “Is she sick?” “You were in there an awful long time?” “Can we see her?” “Where’s the baby?” “Can we see him?”

  “Woah!” Duncan laughed, and held up his hands in surrender. “One question at a time, all right?”

  “How’s Ma?” Avery asked. His young face was lined with concern.

  “Your mother’s doing fine,” Duncan assured the boy. “She’s asleep at the moment, but I’m sure she’ll be keen to see you all when she wakes up again.” Avery cracked a relieved smile. “Your brother is all right too,” Duncan added, wandering over to the kitchen, despite what he had told Ciaran, he wasn’t exactly an accomplished cook.

  “My brother?” Avery said hesitantly, and a little hopefully, following Duncan across the room.

  “Aye,” Duncan said gently. “Thomas is your brother.” He knew that Avery and Ryan had to be anxiously aware they weren’t related by blood to either him or Ciaran, but he wanted to make them realize that didn’t mean they weren’t family!

  Together, Duncan and Avery managed to fix enough food to feed the family. They were lucky that Molly had left a stew simmering on the stove or else they might have gone hungry that night.

  “I want to see Mama before bedtime,” Aidan yawned. In truth it was already far past the children’s bedtime, but Duncan thought the lack of schedule could be excused for one day. “And the new baby too!” Aidan demanded, fi
nishing off the last mouthful of his stew.

  “Baby!” Mary cooed. She was sitting on Duncan’s knee, eating a piece of bread with her fingers. “Dada, baby!” she said, pointing to herself proudly.

  Duncan laughed and kissed the top of her head. “No, you’re my big girl now,” he said. “You’ll have to help with the new baby.” Mary did not look impressed. “Won’t that be nice?” he urged gently, but Mary was blatantly not convinced.

  “No!” she whined, puckering her face into a scowl, and Duncan was forced to recall how he had felt when his mother gave birth to Ewan. He wanted to reassure her, but he supposed the only way to do that would be to show her she wasn’t being replaced. She was too little to understand reasoning with words.

  “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll see if Ma is awake?” he asked Mary. She nodded silently and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

  “I want to come too!” Aidan shouted, and Liam agreed.

  “In a minute,” Duncan assured them. “I’m just going to make sure your Ma is awake and up to visitors.”

  The boys sat back down, while Duncan carried Mary over to the bedroom he and Ciaran (and now Thomas too) shared. He poked his head inside, and smiled when he saw his wife sitting up in bed.

  “You’re meant to be asleep,” he chided her gently, putting a squirming Mary down so she could run over and see her mother. “Careful, Mary,” he said, wincing as the little girl scrambled up onto the bed. He didn’t think his wife was feeling well enough to be climbed over, but apparently Ciaran disagreed.

  “She’s fine,” she laughed, hugging her daughter tightly. “Where are the boys?” she asked, looking bright and healthy, so Duncan called for her sons to come and see her too. The four boys hurried into the room, Avery and Aidan rushed to their mother’s bedside, while Ryan and Liam quietly crept over to peer into the crib.

  “He looks funny,” Liam frowned, poking Thomas with a chubby finger.