by Mary Wine
“A fortunate fact.”
Curan offered her a soft chuckle before escorting her into the hall. Word had already spread of her arrival, and every soul was on their feet. They turned to watch her come down the aisle, and the men tugged on their hats while the girls nodded their heads. Tears stung her eyes because it was the respect that she had dreamed of, longed for, but could only earn.
Somehow, she had.
But her attention settled on the man waiting for her. Gordon stood at the head table, every one of his captains beside him. But they did not sit next to him today. There were two chairs for her and Curan.
The look in Gordon’s eyes sent two tears down her cheeks. Joy shimmered there, so much of it that there was no way to mistake it. He pulled the “X” chair back for her, and no one sat down until he had pushed it back toward the table.
The rest of the hall became noisy once more as the meal was served.
“Ye are a fine sight, lass, even if I find myself wanting to carry ye back above stairs because I want to make sure ye are truly rested.”
“Really, Gordon, I am not sure that you should declare so boldly that you want to carry me off with my brother listening.”
One of his eyebrows arched at the suggestive tone of her voice. A hint of passion flickered in his eyes. Jemma lowered her eyelashes, shielding her own emotions from him. A second later she jumped when his hand landed on top of her thigh and gave it a squeeze.
Curan chuckled once more. “Careful, Barras, I did warn you that my sister is not meek.”
“Was that a warning then?” Gordon reached out to pick an apple off the table. He cut into it with a small knife, splitting it with a sharp sound. He placed one-half on her plate before taking a bite out of the firm fruit and chewing it while contemplating her brother. “And here I thought ye were bragging to me. Ye know, polishing up yer sister’s image so that I’d be hungry for a match with her.”
Gordon’s captains laughed, but her husband watched her pick up the apple and take a small bite from it. The flesh was sweet, and the smell filled her nose as she swallowed slowly.
“Maybe I was.” Curan answered Gordon, but Jemma discovered that her brother was watching her as well. She took another bite and chewed it faster, shooting both men a warning look.
“I, for one, am grateful that things are settled now and no one shall feel the need to look after me.”
The table quieted, several frowns appearing. Jemma looked to Gordon for an explanation.
“It seems that the Church shelters its own. Imogen was smuggled away by her fellow sisters, and none of them will tell me where she is.”
“The priest told us to trust the Church and pray for her.”
It was a disheartening thought but one that didn’t hold up against the greeting that she had received from the castle’s inhabitants. Her hope was burning brightly, and it was even balm for her heart to know that she would not have to endure the guilt of Imogen suffering somewhere in a cell, or worse yet, her execution.
“I wish her well.”
There were plenty of raised eyebrows in response, but her husband considered her from behind a frown.
“I do.”
“Well then, ye may wish Anyon well, too, for she has taken leave of the castle to join her cousin on McIre land.”
Jemma swallowed again and noticed everyone at the head table watching her.
“Another bit of glad tidings.”
“I agree, wife.”
Jemma heard the tone in her husband’s voice that often sent her temper to heating. He’d sent Anyon away, and he was not sorry.
She wasn’t, either.
Her pride might ache, but her heart applauded the action. She reached beneath the table and pinched his thigh.
His hand captured hers, the feeling of his fingers wrapping around hers awakening more desire in her. She suddenly needed to be touched. It began to take command of her attention as her belly filled. She turned her hand beneath his and began to stroke his fingers, one after the other. Their skin sliding against each other was intoxicating; even the bright sunlight didn’t make her shy away from the desire inside her.
It made her feel even more alive, and that was something that she had missed too sorely to feel guilty over.
“Since ye claimed the duty of escorting me wife in, I believe I’ll take my chance to have her on my arm now.”
They made it halfway down the aisle before Gordon laughed low and deep and scooped her off her feet. Those still eating erupted with amusement. Many of them slapping the tabletop while their laird carried her off.
“You enjoy that too much.”
Gordon tossed her into the air and caught her. “Aye, I do, lass.” He carried her up the stairs to their chamber, never stopping to catch his breath.
“But I confess that I enjoy being inside ye more.” He laid her down on the bed, his gaze moving over her as though he was attempting to memorize her. “However bold or blunt ye might find that, lass.”
“I find it pleasing. Very pleasing.”
“Is that so?” He reached out and flipped her skirt up to expose one leg. He clamped his hand around her knee and slid it up to her thigh. “How pleasing?”
“So pleasing that I wouldn’t mind if you ripped this dress off me, so long as you lay with me, no clothing between us.”
He drew in a stiff breath, a muscle twitching on the side of his jaw. The fingers on her thigh tightened.
“No just yet, lass. Ye need to rest.”
Jemma hissed and sat up. She slid her own hand across the sheet and beneath his kilt to smooth along his thigh, but she did not stop there. She continued on until she felt the sac that hung beneath his member and then the hard rod itself.
“I need to feel you inside me, Gordon. I need to be your wife.”
“Sweet lass.” His voice was hoarse, but he captured the sides of her face between his hands and kissed her. She lost her grip on his cock but happily reached for him as he pushed her back while his lips teased hers. He didn’t rush to open her mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking along her lower lip in a slow motion before he pressed a harder kiss against her lips. Slowly, steadily, he increased the pressure until she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to penetrate. Liquid fire pooled inside her, like molten metal going into a mold. His tongue stabbed down into her mouth, stroking along her own, and she eagerly accepted it, closing her lips around it to suck it.
“Sweet wife.”
He released her and stood. She ached for him, rolling up to follow him until she heard his belt open. He pulled on the thick leather with a hard motion and tossed the open belt aside. His tartan received only enough attention to keep his colors from landing on the floor. He gathered up the loosened pleats and tossed them in a heap on top of a table.
Jemma reached for the top button on her doublet and flicked it open.
“No.” He barked the command at her while ripping open the ties at the neck of his shirt.
“I want to undress ye.”
His eyes glowed with excitement, and he pulled his shirt up and over his head to finish baring himself. He climbed onto the bed, his knees digging into the soft mattress.
“I want to kiss every inch of ye.” His voice was hoarse again and his eyes bright with emotion. He released the buttons on her doublet with soft motions before gently easing the garment down her arms. His touch was the complete opposite of the way he had stripped his own clothing aside. Now he was tender and almost hesitant. He seemed to be savoring every movement, and she moaned softly as he stroked his hands back up her arms with only her chemise interfering.
“I spent too many hours dreading the possibility that I might not ever get to feel yer warm skin next to mine in this life again.” He grasped the tie that held her stays closed and pulled the knot loose. Her breasts felt heavy and swollen. Gordon worked the lace free and pushed the corset over her shoulders so that it fell onto the bed behind her.
His hands trailed over the curves of her brea
sts, unleashing sweet sensation that rippled along her skin. She wanted to fall back onto the bed and simply enjoy being touched.
Gordon slid his hands down to her waistband and opened the tie there. With a few motions of his fingers he had it open and was pulling her skirts up and over her head. Her arms were stretched high above her head, and then the garment was finally free.
“Stay like that, lass.”
The position pushed her breasts out, and her chemise fell in soft waves over her thighs. She was kneeling on the bed, and Gordon sent her hip roll onto the floor in one swift motion, leaving her in nothing but the thin linen shift.
He slid his hands down her arms and onto the sides of her body. Moving them inward, he cupped each breast, sending a shiver down her back. His hands kept moving, down across her midsection and then over the curves of her hips and still farther along her thighs until he found the hem of her last garment. He drew it up slowly, and she felt the air touching her bare skin. A soft murmur of delight whispered past her lips as he drew it higher, up until her breasts felt the morning air kiss them. Her nipples tingled, beginning to contract. And the skin on her arms felt the linen brushing over them until it was drawn completely away.
“Ye are a vision, lass. One that I swear I dreamed of every moment that we were separated.”
Jemma reached for her hair and began to comb her fingers through the strands. Gordon settled on his knees in front of her, his gaze centered on her fingers as they slid through her hair. His cock stood erect with its ruby head swollen, and her passage felt wet for it, but there was no pressing urgency. Instead there was an enjoyment of the building heat.
Jemma finished freeing her hair, and he reached out to grasp a handful. He allowed the strands to rest in his palm for a long moment before leaning forward to inhale their fragrance.
“I adore the way ye smell, lass.”
He pushed her back, nuzzling and kissing the tender skin at her neck.
“Everywhere.”
His lips traveled to her collarbone and then down to her chest. His hands smoothed up from her waist to cup her breasts, and his lips captured one nipple. She gasped, stretching out across the bed. Pleasure streamed through her, feeding the heat that flickered in her passage. His tongue flicked across the hard point her nipple had become before he began licking his way toward her opposite point. He didn’t hurry, and the hard nipple tightened with excitement as she felt his warm lips nearing it. She whimpered when he closed his lips around her breast, her back arching to offer it to his mouth. He sucked harder, and she gasped when need speared through her.
But he left the tender spot soon and trailed his kisses across her stomach.
Jemma shivered, unable to control the urge to spread her thighs. She craved the pleasure she knew he could give her with his lips. There was no thought given to right or wrong, there was only the yearning burning inside her.
“Ah, and the sweetest place of all.”
Gordon pushed her thighs farther apart, the folds of her sex opening to expose her clitoris. His thumb brushed across the little point, drawing a sharp sound from her lips. The next contact was slightly firmer and longer, his thumb rubbing in several tiny circles before it traced the center of her sex down to the opening of her passage. He toyed with it, inserting his thumb for several long seconds and sending need racing through her.
“I could spend hours listening to the sound ye make when I’m pleasuring ye.”
Her cheeks pinkened slightly, and he chuckled because he was watching her from between her open thighs. He moved his thumb back up to her clitoris and began rubbing it again.
“I confess that I could listen to ye whimper like that for hours.”
Jemma hissed at him. His lips twitched up into a mischievous grin.
“But I agree that what we both crave isn’t exactly this.”
He rose up from between her legs, and her attention lowered to the length of his member. Her passage craved it, the walls feeling empty and needy. She lifted her arms in invitation, and his lips thinned, his expression becoming intense.
“I’ve dreamed of seeing ye issue that invitation, sweet lass.” He settled his weight over her, the head of his cock pressing against the opening to her passage. “But the reality is far better than anything my mind teased me with.”
His mouth claimed hers in a hard kiss. Urgency fueled his lips, and she met him with equal longing. His hips pressed forward, his hard flesh tunneling into her sheath. She clasped her hands around his neck, whimpering again with the sheer amount of sensation that filled her. He pushed deeply into her passage, and her hips lifted to meet him. They worked together perfectly, passion commanding them both. Pleasure was building inside her, tightening and threatening to release far too soon. She could see the passion on his face, too, and she watched his eyes battle to hold it back, but to no avail. His thrusts became harder and faster, and she kept pace with him, as eager for the release as he. The pleasure built until it broke, and the moment that it took control of her she felt his cock begin spurting its hot seed against the mouth of her womb.
Her lungs froze between breaths, and every muscle drew taut while the pleasure ruled her. It ran from her belly out to her toes and fingertips and then back to her belly without stopping. Only when it landed deep inside her did she draw breath again, gasping to fill her burning lungs. Gordon shuddered on top of her, his arms holding just enough of his weight to keep her from being crushed.
“Too fast.”
He rolled over and pulled her along with him. “ ’Twas too quickly done, lass.”
He gathered her close, and she laid her head on his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat.
“We have plenty of time to perfect our timing.”
But did they have enough time for love to grow? Many men never loved; it was a cruel fact. Tears stung her eyes and he shifted, placing a finger beneath her chin to raise it when he felt the wetness against his chest. Jemma resisted, keeping her head lowered.
“Why do ye cry, lass?” There was emotion in his voice, such deep caring that more tears spilled from her eyes and she felt guilty for them, but that did not grant her the ability to contain them.
He cupped her chin and raised it. “For I can nae bear it, those tears. Nae from the woman I love.”
She stiffened, sitting up to slap a hand over her mouth to contain the sound that erupted from her lips. Gordon followed her, reaching out to grasp her with one solid arm around her waist. Her temper suddenly lit, and she balled up one fist and hit him. But she was so close she did little damage to his shoulder, so she lifted her hand and hit him again.
“You never spoke of love, not when I declared myself to you.” She struggled, but he held her tight. “Beast. Was three words so much to ask for when my life might have ended before I heard them from your lips?”
“That is why I didna tell ye.”
“Ohh . . . Toad! Release me.”
He rolled onto his back, his amusement bouncing off the canopy above the bed. His hands captured her and pulled her down on top of him. But he rolled over to pin her down where he could clasp the sides of her head and keep her face where his gaze might connect with hers.
“I didna tell ye because I could nae bear the thought that ye might consider yer life complete. I wanted ye to have something to fight for, something to wake up for, lass. Ye have a spirit that refuses to surrender, and I was willing to use that to gain ye back.”
She hit him again, but he only smiled.
“But ’twas the sweetest thing that I ever heard, those words from yer lips.”
“I may never repeat them. It would be your just reward for allowing me to worry about your feelings. You miserable toad.”
“I was miserable.” Deep emotion flickered in his eyes, and it touched her heart. There was no missing the tenderness there, looking straight into her eyes like a bolt of lightning between them. It was warm and impossible not to love.
“So damn miserable that I believe I would have died i
f ye did. I never thought it possible that one woman might bring a man to his knees, but ye did, lass. I prayed in the church for hours on my knees, and I’d do it again for ye because I love ye more than I even like myself.”
“Oh, Gordon, you are a fine man.” She reached up to place her hands on his cheeks and he closed his eyes with a soft sound of male enjoyment. “You are the man I love, love so much I cry with it.”
He opened his eyes, and they shimmered with unshed tears, betraying just how sincere he was.
“So are ye saying that ye love toads, lass? Well now, I’ve nae heard that before.”
Jemma scoffed at him. “Good. I like knowing that I am the only woman who loves you.”
“Well I can nae swear to that—” He snorted when she moved her knee and knocked his cock with it. He rolled over and tucked her along his body once again, pressing her head onto his shoulder with a tender hand.
“But I can swear that ye are the only woman that I love.”
A week later . . .
“You look much better.” Justina spoke the words, but her heart was not in them. The woman’s eyes kept shifting to the windows and the clouds darkening the horizon.
“And you appear unhappy.” Jemma stood up and walked across the room. She swore that she was never going to take such a thing for granted again. A week of rest and eating was restoring her strength quite rapidly.
“The last time I was happy was years ago, when I was with my son.” Justina’s blue eyes filled with joy, but she nibbled on her lip when she looked at the dark sky. “Brandon is seven now.”
And it had been a long time since the lady had set eyes upon her child, much less held him.
“Do not pity me. I have spent all of my time in your company with that pity lurking in your eyes. There is nothing perfect about this life. Except for our children. You do not yet know the gift that feeling a life growing inside you is. It is even more precious to know that I can keep my son away from the worries of this world. There is nothing more that I may expect or ask for.”