Kaitlyn and the Highlander

by Diana Knightley

  Dad shook Magnus's hand, hugged and kissed me, then announced he would bring paperwork to be signed tomorrow. Meaning I would have my name on a fortune within hours.

  They were all coming to my new house, where Zach was making a wedding meal.

  You might think the dreamlike trance of the day would be broken by now, but no, still going. And I hadn't even kissed him yet. I thought that was the main part of every wedding, yet here I was, not kissed. My hands had been bound to his though, in many ways that was way better.

  He was speaking with Lady Mairead. I watched the side of his face, angled and intense.

  Lady Mairead turned to me. “Kaitlyn Campbell, I will see ye at home, your parents are giving me a ride.” She clasped my hand in hers. “Thank ye.”

  “Oh, no worries, I mean, you're welcome.” I had forgotten I originally did this for her, because I could only think of Magnus now, and what I had done for him.

  She and my parents left, and then Hayley hugged and kissed me. She led us outside as it dawned on us that her car was the only vehicle left.

  She said, “I should have thought this through. I could have had a temp here with a car. Hmmm. Okay, in a pinch, I'm your chauffeur.”

  She opened the car door for us, and I slid in and then Magnus. She closed the door and ran off to check we hadn't forgotten anything in the church.

  Magnus still had the silk rope looped over his arm. He slid it off, coiled it into a small circle, and fit it over my hand to my wrist as a bracelet. Then he pulled my arm, up under his own, and pressed his lips to my temple and lingered there. I listened as he breathed me in. “Ye hae married me then, Kaitlyn?”

  “I have Magnus, I married you. Did you marry me?”

  “Aye, I hae, forever.” The words vibrated on my skin.

  Hayley appeared and climbed in the driver's seat. “Okay — to Magnus's? am I invited to dinner too? Michael?”

  I laughed, “Michael's probably there moving my stuff in, right? So definitely.” Then I glanced at Magnus, “I'm sorry, I just — can Michael and Hayley come eat dinner tonight?”

  “Tis your house too Kaitlyn, ye decide.”

  “Yes, come to dinner.”

  Thirty-one

  When we got to the house, my parents made us stand on the deck while they took pictures of us in pseudo-wedding poses, side by side, holding one hand, strained smiles. I supposed we would like to have them someday.

  Zach roasted lamb, with mint. There were also turnips and potatoes, to which Magnus exclaimed, “Neeps and tatties, well done!” as well as some citrus and berries because it was summer, and Zach wanted to lighten it up. For dessert there was a beautiful wedding cake, two round layers with white icing covered in flowers. He explained that he bought it, because we did not give him enough time to bake one. Though he would have.

  He said, “And it's chocolate cake, you're welcome, Katie.” There was also sorbet, heather ale, and champagne.

  Magnus and I sat beside each other at his big dining table. A key part of any wedding plan is the dress the bride puts on after the ceremony. I had forgotten the need for such a thing. So I stayed in my wedding dress, which was over the top for the living room. Yet it felt so luxurious to have white damask in folds all around me, with my dark, handsome husband in a tux beside me. He was hanging on my every word, watching me constantly, completely. We leaned in toward each other. I batted my lashes. He smiled a lot.

  Hayley and Michael joined us, my parents, and Lady Mairead. Waiting for the first course I noticed Magnus tug at his bow tie. “Tis too tight.”

  “Just unclip it.”

  He fumbled with the back of it. “Daena hae a clip.”

  “Lean in.” He raised his chin. I pulled the ends, untied the bow, and left them dangling undone beside his buttons. Then, because I liked the proximity and the touches and the being the-person-who-touched-him-there, I unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, opened it off his neck, and stroked down the fabric, starched, cotton, expensive. It was the most intimate thing I had ever done with him, at the table in my wedding dress, untying his tie, unbuttoning one button of his shirt.

  His eyes lingered on my face the whole time. By the time I sat down I was flushed. Bordering on hot.

  Zach and Emma served the meal and brought in platter after platter of food, and asked if we needed anything, but stayed close by, joking and laughing as they handed the plates of food around.

  After serving us they served themselves and then joined us at the table, sending food out for Magnus's security team. It was equal parts traditional, the way Magnus and now me too, had a staff, but also very modern how his staff shared the food and the space with him. I liked it and supposed it had a lot to do with Magnus, his kindness, that he didn't need to feel superior.

  The dinner was festive and fun, but the space between Magnus and I was charged with electricity. We barely touched. His fingers brushed mine here and there as we ate. It was much like those moments when you're first dating someone, trying to bed them, but so different too, because there wasn't any downside. No 'what ifs', only anticipation.

  He was mine. Forever and ever mine. And I hadn't even tasted him yet.

  Thirty-two

  My parents left and Lady Mairead went up to her room to bed.

  We sat for a bit longer, enjoying another beer and more conversation with Hayley, Micheal, Zach, and Emma. Then Hayley came up with an idea to stage photos of us in our wedding clothes, sprawled back on chairs, surrounded by plates of half-eaten food and half-empty drinks. Zach and Emma had done some cleaning already, so they dragged out dirty dishes and set the table again to look post-feast. Hayley told me to lean in against Magnus's chest, holding a big slice of cake in my fist, his hand around a whole bottle of wine. Part of a roasted lamb in front of us. It looked like some kind of neo-rococo last supper, ornate and beautiful, a little decadent and very funny. We laughed a lot and all agreed that those photos of our wedding were our favorites. Then, before I knew it, Hayley and Michael were up grabbing their things, saying goodbye, and leaving through the front door.

  Zach and Emma cleared plates from the table and poured us each another drink. I was stuffed. Our chairs were very close to each other, yet we still weren't touching. I leaned back in my chair and tried to get a deep breath but my bodice had grown tight with the food, I tugged at the base of it. Magnus shifted his hand to trail a finger along the bottom edge of my bodice, so close to my hip, back and forth, slowly, mesmerizing, then his finger went up under the edge of it, and gently pulled, barely, slowly, drawing me closer, promising more. My breath caught.

  “Would ye like tae go tae our chamber, Kaitlyn?” He asked quietly.

  I shook my head.

  “Why nae?”

  “I'm scared.” His finger continued to travel back and forth along the lower edge of my bodice.

  “You are scared of me?”

  “No, it's just, I think I'm scared of the moment, you know?”

  He nodded. “Aye, I know. I feel it too.”

  His fingers trailed up my side and across my shoulder and faintly, lightly, down my arm, giving me shivers.

  “I think twill be all right,” he said quietly, seriously.

  “How do you know?”

  He smiled softly. “We canna stay here, there is cleaning that must be done, and our bed is much more comfortable.”

  I nodded and stood. He held my hand and led me to the bedroom, just off the main living area.

  “You sleep here now?”

  “Aye, since ye slept here. It smelled of ye for a time.”

  “Really? You're going to give me a complex.”

  “A complex?”

  I stood in the middle of the room while he adjusted the window screens and turned on a table lamp, throwing the room into a dim light.

  “Make me insecure — because you keep talking about how I smell.”

  “You smell like nothing and everything at once, I canna describe it.” He opened a top drawer, showing me my underwear
in small stacks. I hoped Emma had done the folding instead of Michael and Zach. But also, whoa, someone put my clothes away.

  Magnus sat on the bed. “You look verra beautiful.”

  I blushed. “Thank you.”

  I was still wearing my pearled headpiece so I went down the small hallway, through the frosted glass sliding door, past the closets that I would need to explore tomorrow, to the gigantic master bathroom. I paused for a moment, my toothbrush was there, beside another strange toothbrush in a strange bathroom, my husband's, forever more. I took a deep breath, pulled the crown off, yanked out the bobby-pins and hair-bands, and ran a brush through my hair.

  When I returned, the room was darker. Three cylinder candles burned on the bedside table. He stood. “Come here, Kaitlyn.”

  “I like it when you say my name. I mean, I like that it doesn't have 'mistress' in front of it anymore.” I stood in front of him. His eyes were intense on my face; I felt awkward. “You lit candles.”

  “Aye, Emma assured me ye would like them.”

  “I do, they smell good.” He slowly trailed his fingertips down my sides to my waist and gently turned me so he could untie my bodice. His fingers shook as he worked at the lacing.

  “Do you know what the scent is?”

  He was quiet, working on the laces. “She said tis called Hot Amber.”

  “Yum, I love — is it going okay back there?”

  He sighed. “I am tryin' tae concentrate.”

  “Ah, sorry.” It took him a long time because it was complicated and tight, but then slowly he worked his fingers into the tight laces, the fabric folds, and taking his time spread open the back of my dress. He looped a finger under the capped sleeves and with excruciating slowness pulled them off my shoulders and down. The entire dress fell in a giant puff of white around my knees.

  He offered me a hand for balance while I stepped over the pile, and he shoved it away with his foot. I was facing him, mostly unclothed. He sat down on the bed. Then he reached out and ever so slowly bit by bit, pulled my panties down to the ground. “Can ye stand there for a moment?”

  It was hard to know what to do as his eyes traveled around and over my naked body. I wanted his touch so desperately. I was arching forward with my breaths, doing this thing I did where I couldn't be still. He was as still as a rock, concentration and focus, but I was struggling against my need to climb in his lap, bringing force and energy and movement.

  He grinned. “You art a breeze riding wisp. You daena wiggle so much when ye were clothed.”

  I pretend whined, “I can't help it, this is too long without you touching me.”

  “Tis now?” He grasped my hips and pulled me forward to stand between his legs. “Ah, much better.” He ran his hand down my back, my ass, my legs. Until I couldn't bear it anymore. I pulled him to standing and began working on the buttons of his tuxedo shirt. My fingers brushing the shirt linen stretched across his firm chest. I yanked it down his arms, and tossed it to the side. And ran my hands up and down the ridges along his abdomen.

  The kilt was more complicated. It wrapped. I found the latch and it dropped to the ground. He sat and removed his boots which took a second and he was flustered and apologetic during it. Then he asked, “Kaitlyn, will ye come tae bed now?”

  I nodded and joked, “Aye.”

  He shoveled under the covers, giving me my first glimpse of my husband's full form, in motion, muscles taut, holding my hand, pulling me along. We arrived in the middle of our luxurious bed, under a cloud of a comforter, surrounded by too many, too high pillows. And we snuggled close, wrapped, front to front.

  And

  oh

  my

  god

  I was touching the length of him, my chest pressed to his. He wanted me; he was pressed on my stomach, and he was holding me, so strong and sure, his breath warm on my cheek. His hand traveling slowly down my back and around my buttocks and then up slowly along my side. He pulled a breadth away and watched his hand as it moved up my stomach. The caress so light and electric that I arched toward his fingers. His hand paused at my breast. His voice rolled from somewhere in his chest, vibrating against my skin. “May I touch ye here?”

  I breathed out, “Anywhere.”

  “Och, aye.” His hand drifted along my curves, checking to see if I was telling the truth. His hand followed along the curve of my bottom, caressing up the back of my thigh, raising it to his waist, around and into the folds between my legs, and down my thighs and back up again. He closed his eyes. His brow drawn in intense concentration. He placed his mouth against the edge of my neck, hot, lips, wet, whispering — “I want ye, Kaitlyn. But I daena want tae scare ye.”

  I wrapped my hands around the back of his head, arched forward and with my leg wrapped around his waist I brought his hips closer to mine. “I want you too. I'm not scared.”

  He looked into my eyes. his were wild, his brow hot, his hair tousled. “I dinna think ye would want—”

  “That I would want you?” I ran my hands down his back inching him closer, myself wanting him more and more. My lips were close to his ear. “I do, I want you.”

  “I daena want tae hurt ye...”

  I ran my fingers down his jawline. “You won't.” His hand dove between my legs, and I was losing the ability to think or speak.

  I ran my hand across his wide shoulder, slowly massaged down his side to his buttocks and staring into his eyes pulled him inside me. He moaned, closed his eyes, and rolled on top of me, intense and hard and full of force and power; we shoved and pushed against each other, faster and faster, until he climaxed with a groan and relaxed down onto my body.

  He lay there, heavy on me, soft within me, for a long time, his breathing fast, then growing slower and slower. His mouth on my shoulder, his voice vibrating on my skin. “Tis the way it goes then?”

  My eyes wide, I asked, “Magnus, was that your first time?”

  “Nae.” He gave me a sheepish grin. “Twas the first time in a bed. Changes the operation of it.” He put his mouth back on my shoulder. “Twas my first time with you. It changed the meanin' of it.” He pulled a hair breadths away. “Am I crushin' ye?”

  I wrapped my arms and legs around him tighter. “No, I like you here.”

  He leaned his cheek to mine and then rested his mouth on my neck, just under my jaw, at the edge of my throat, my heartbeat against his breath. And then slowly he rubbed his cheek along mine, his lips up to my lips, and kissed me, for the very first time, soft and sweet. I wrapped my fingers through the back of his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss was lingering and awesome, tastes and moans, licks and nibbles, the scent of amber floated around us, and when it was done, I looked up to find him staring down at me. And we stayed there for a moment, looking deep into each other's eyes.

  “Aye Kaitlyn, ye have married me.”

  I sighed. “Aye Magnus, I did.” I had to look away the feeling was so intense, deep. I concentrated on pushing a bit of his hair behind his ear.

  He shimmied down my body. With a hand firmly holding my breast, he kissed me on the bottom edge of my ribs and then nuzzled his forehead into my chest. With his other hand he firmly gripped my buttock. “Tis all mine?” His voice sounded muffled, pressed to my diaphragm.

  “Technically speaking.”

  “Good, I plan tae live here now.”

  “In my breasts?” I giggled.

  “I could eat my meals here.” He kissed my breast causing me to arch toward his mouth. “And tis a pillow so I can sleep here too.” He snuggled his cheek into my skin.

  “It might get boring after a while to live in bed sleeping and eating, but I'm game to try.”

  He chuckled, held in my arms, but holding me too. “I canna believe I would get bored with ye.” The room was peacefully dark. The candle flickers casting dancing shadows. Our voices low and deep. Meant only for each other.

  I entwined my fingers in his hair, wrapping and twisting a curl around my finger, brushing hair from his sweaty brow.


  We laid there like that for a long time. The amber scent wafting around us. I was thinking about all the firsts — we had just made love, undressed each other, seen each other naked for the first time, then we kissed. And—

  “Did you do this with James Cook?”

  I startled, “What? Why do you ask that?”

  His cheek pressed to my chest, his voice a rumble. “I feel I need tae know. And I need ye tae be the one tae tell me.”

  “Oh.” That's why he had been so quiet. “I don't think we should talk about it. I—”

  “Usually when I ask ye something, you answer.”

  “But this is not the same as 'how does the light switch work.' This is —”

  “If I dinna ken this about ye, but you do, and James Cook ken this about ye, and I dinna, then I am made a fool.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I guess I can see that.” His arms tightened around my back, holding me tight and still.

  I spoke it into the air between us. “I have done this with James Cook. I also did these things with my fiancé, and... But that was my past, and we shouldn't dwell on it, because there's no going back. Honestly, I didn't know you were coming.”

  “Aye.” He sat quietly for a moment, his heartbeat in a constant rhythm on my stomach “And ye dinna marry these men, Kaitlyn?”

  “No, only you.”

  He raised his head and shoulders above me to look at my face. Candle light flickered across his pained expression. “So you dinna vow tae them that ye would never bed another man?”

  “I didn't make any vows, but when I loved Braden I wasn't with anyone else. When I loved James I wasn't with anyone else. I stopped loving them when they chose other people. It's complicated, I guess. But it's more like an agreement than a vow.” I stroked my fingers down his wide shoulder. “Are you worried I might break my vow to you?”

  “I daena wish tae be made a fool.”

  “We are new to each other, and until we have spent more time together we won't have proof of our truthfulness, but I won't lie to you Magnus. And I meant my vow today. I will not be with another man.” My voice caught. “Just please don't break my heart.”