In the Warrior’s Bed

by Mary Wine

  “Too young, and he will never set hands on you.” Anne spoke with confidence. “Waste no time on the matter. I’d sooner ship ye to the highlands than allow that to happen.”

  Bonnie did not obey her sister. Her teeth bit into her lower lip but she remained silent.

  The sounds of bathing filled the room. Bronwyn didn’t know what to say, so she busied herself with washing her hair. The soap was fresh smelling and she wrinkled her nose when she realized that the only thing she had to wear was her chemise. After three days, it was unsavory at best. Her bathing didn’t take long and she stood up. A length of toweling was held up by Anne. The personal service from the mistress of the house was surprising. It was also the height of hospitality.

  “Thank ye.”

  The countess smiled.

  Another woman entered the room. This one was older and wore a good wool dress with a McJames plaid draped down her back. It was drawn up over her right shoulder and secured with a brass broach.

  “I’ve brought a few things for her, and since it is winter, we’ll put some of the girls to needle tomorrow to make the rest.”

  The woman inspected her with keen eyes. A hard look glittered in them that Bronwyn understood. That was the strife that had been caused by her father’s greed. Anne and Bonnie were English and had not lived with the deaths that had happened in years gone by, but this woman had. Bronwyn shivered under the woman’s wary regard.

  “Well now. I’m Helen. We’d best get that hair dried before ye take ill.”

  Helen’s words were surprisingly pleasant. Bronwyn discovered that she was too tired to worry about what might happen later. For the moment she was among women and there was a camaraderie that was worth savoring. In a world run by men, every female had doubts. She was not alone in that. Knowing that helped fill in a small amount of the empty place she’d noticed yesterday.

  Bronwyn sat in front of the fire, brushing her hair until it dried into a fluffy cloud. The new chemise was fresh and welcome. Anne put the surcoat back over her so that she could leave the bathhouse. But she held onto the shoes, tiny wrinkles appearing on the bridge of her nose.

  “These are soaked clean through and smell like a horse.”

  “I’m not surprised. I believe I’ve lived on one for the better part of three days.” Bronwyn looked at the pitiful lumps her boots had become. “But ’tis all I have.”

  “Not so,” Helen declared as she placed a pair of bedchamber slippers on the floor near her feet. “Ye have a McJames husband now. He will provide well for ye.”

  She slid her feet into the slippers. They were lined in soft wool to keep her toes warm. She began following Anne through the hall without question because her mind was too busy. Besides, she had no other idea of where to go.

  A McJames husband…

  Bronwyn wasn’t sure if she was more stunned by the word “McJames” or “husband.” A tiny quiver went through her belly as she realized that night had fallen. Most of the shutters were tightly closed now and tin lanterns had been set along the hallways to provide light. Yellow dots danced on the stone floor, the winter wind stirring the candle flames.

  Her wedding night.

  Even if they had celebrated it already, it was, in fact, her wedding night. Cullen would be waiting for her. Heat began to warm her skin as she thought about walking to a room where everyone knew that she would spend the night with a man and that they would not be sleeping immediately.

  It was amazing to think that half an hour in front of a bishop could change something that was forbidden into a thing she was expected to do. Many labeled it a chore, but she had enjoyed it.

  But what was it?

  A wifely duty? A sin?

  A need…

  Her cheeks burned scarlet as she thought about the action.

  Oh, she knew plenty of words for it. Some of them more coarse than others. But she couldn’t deny that she had enjoyed those moments in Cullen’s arms. The sheer pleasure that had taken control of her had been mind numbing. To think that it was expected of her now was pure temptation. Since he’d bent her to his will, she might lay back and indulge her body in its craving for his touch.

  The church would not frown on her.

  Yet her clan would.

  Did she care? She wasn’t as sure as she had been two days past.

  It was a dilemma that made her bite her lower lip.

  Anne paused in front of a large door. She pushed it inward, holding it wide for Bronwyn. Candles burned in bright welcome on the table in the room. There was a fire in the hearth adding warmth.

  “I remember how lonely it was my first night at Sterling. Believe me when I tell you that the McJames men are very good at helping to change that.” Anne went back into the doorway. “I will see you at breakfast.”

  “Thank ye.” Her voice lacked true sincerity, so she kept it low. She meant no disrespect, but she was not an accomplished liar, either.

  Anne didn’t linger. The door shut, leaving Bronwyn in the chamber. It was large and round because it was in one of the keeps that made up Sterling. On the second floor, there were windows that were covered in curtains. Curious, she moved toward them, fingering the expensive velvet fabric. Brushing one aside, she gasped at the glass behind it. Small panes of expensive glass were held together with lead to form windows that would allow light into the room even in foul weather. There were hinges that would allow the sections to be opened so that fresh air might enter the room. She touched the glass lightly, marveling at the smooth texture. Her fingertips could feel the chill of winter through it. They were large windows and that was a luxury because it allowed heat to escape even with the heavy curtains. But it would allow the air to be fresh in the chamber.

  There was also a chimney for the hearth for the smoke to rise up and out of the chamber. The bed itself was clearly made for a man. It was large with thick curtains hanging on the sides of it. The fluffy coverlet that was turned down looked inviting. She was suddenly so tired of struggling. Lying down in a warm bed tempted her almost beyond her endurance.

  “Yer hair is beautiful, lass.”

  She stiffened, each muscle straining. Turning around, she looked at the man she’d wed. His hair glistening in the candlelight told her that he’d bathed as well. He wore only his kilt now, his sword slung over his shoulder. He let the weapon down to rest against a wall near the side of the bed that was closest to the door.

  “I should have stolen ye the first time I set eyes on ye.”

  “That’s insane.” She meant to sound firm but her voice was breathless.

  Cullen shrugged, the thick muscles on his chest moving with the motion.

  “Maybe, I’ll no deny that ye have that effect on me.”

  He had closed the distance between them. With each step he took, her body responded. Sensation flowed down over her skin, awakening it. Her breasts became more aware of the fabric of her chemise, the nipples tingling as they recalled what his mouth felt like on them.

  “Ye shouldn’t say such things.”

  He reached out to finger her hair. Enjoyment flickered in his eyes as he reached up higher and slid his fingers through it. “There is no one here to judge what we say, Bronwyn. I often wonder why the church is so concerned about the matters between a man and a woman, anyway.”

  “That’s close to blasphemy, Cullen. Ye’ll be the one in the stocks if ye are overheard.”

  “Maybe, but I suppose ye might just consider that fair because you almost landed in their rough grasp this morning.”

  She suddenly laughed, the sound bubbling up past her lips before she realized it was coming. “Ye are such a boy sometimes.”

  His hand closed in her hair and gave it a gentle tug. He was grinning as he repeated the motion. “Since I’ve pulled yer hair, does that makes me a naughty boy?”

  “It does indeed. But give me a moment and I shall find a tree to cut a switch from.”

  His expression changed. The teasing light vanished as desire replaced it.


  “’Tis too cold for that, besides, it would nae stop me. I’m nae in the mood to behave properly.”

  Neither was she…

  Bronwyn quivered as she recognized how much she agreed with him. Her body was pulsing with needs that it wanted satisfied. She wanted more than she’d had last night. Needed to touch him more. The surcoat was suddenly too warm and the chemise rough against her sensitive skin.

  But the need to touch him was stronger than her desire to rid herself of the discomforts. Reaching forward, she stroked his chest with her fingertips, tracing one sculpted ridge of hard muscle. His skin was hot and smooth and his nipple drew into a hard point as she moved her hand toward it. Would he like it as much as she had if she leaned toward him and sucked it? Her hands slid over it and his skin rippled with a shudder. That little reaction made her bold. Closing the last step between them, she tilted her head and gently placed a kiss on his nipple.

  “Sweet mercy.”

  He growled through his teeth and grasped her head in his hands. But he didn’t pull her away. Flattening both her hands on his chest she stroked him as she parted her lips to gently suckle his nipple. His chest rumbled with some sound that was half growl and half moan.

  It filled her with confidence.

  Parting her lips, she allowed the tip of her tongue to tease the little tip. The grip in her hair tightened and she trailed soft kisses across his chest to the opposite nipple. Closing her lips around it, she offered it the same teasing affection.

  “Ye learn too fast, Bronwyn.”

  Cullen pulled her head away from his chest, raising her face so that his mouth hovered above her lips. “But I’m no complaining.”

  He pressed a kiss onto her mouth. It was demanding but slow. He tasted her lips, sliding his across hers in a soft motion that stole her breath. She shivered as delight filled her. Slipping her hands up his chest, she held onto his shoulders, urging him closer.

  He sent his tongue into her mouth, invading and demanding, but she opened wide for it. His tongue found hers and stroked it. He teased it again and again until she followed his lead. They thrust and tangled for a long moment before he lifted his head. Desire made his face fierce but it didn’t alarm her.

  What it did was excite her. Her passage heated up, her clitoris throbbing gently between the folds of her sex.

  “I need to see ye.” His hands slid out of her hair. “All of ye.”

  He didn’t reach for her surcoat, but watched her with need etched into his face.

  “Show yerself to me, Bronwyn.”

  It was a command but one edged with desire. She had never thought a woman might have control over such a strong man, but she did in some odd fashion. He’d stripped her last night but wanted the gift of her surrender tonight.

  She wanted to know what that power felt like.

  She reached for the buttons on her surcoat, watching his face while he waited for her to comply with his demand. There was no logic to the idea, only the rush of confidence that filled her. For the first time in her life she felt beautiful.

  The buttons slid quietly from the buttonholes. Only the first few were closed. She shrugged out of the heavy wool in a few moments. Cullen stood still, giving her his absolute attention.

  “More.” He croaked the single word when she stopped.

  She drew her finger along the edge of her chemise instead. He frowned, his jaw twitching.

  “Sweet tease. Be careful, lass. That’s a game two can play.”

  She brushed past him, walking toward the hearth. The fire would make her garment transparent and she knew it. The heat caused the hem to billow softly around her calves.

  He chuckled softly, following her in a lazy pace that reminded her of stalking. A mocking grin decorated his lips. With a hard tug he released his belt and his kilt slid down his hips. He caught it up and tossed it aside.

  Bronwyn couldn’t help herself, she looked at his cock once again. It was standing straight up from his lower belly, the head crowned with a thick ridge of flesh. Knowing that she’d already taken it didn’t keep her from wondering if he was too large. The flesh looked impossibly thick and long.

  He suddenly captured her, closing the distance with one long step. She gasped, but he laughed at her and clicked his tongue in reprimand.

  “Distractions often prove fatal.”

  He pressed another kiss onto her mouth. This one was hard and unrelenting. His tongue speared into her mouth, boldly demanding what his body wanted. He grasped the sides of her chemise and pulled it over her head.

  “Much better.”

  He didn’t take time to look at her nude body. Scooping her up, he turned and settled her in his bed without hesitation. The bed rocked and he kicked the bedding down to the foot.

  “Now to return the favor.”

  He grasped both her breasts in a light grip, and leaning down, licked one nipple, sending a shaft of pleasure straight down her spine. She twisted with the intensity, reaching for something to hold on to. Her hands closed on his shoulders as he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

  A soft cry hit the canopy above her but she didn’t recognize it as her own. It was too wanton, too passionate. Cullen was unleashing something she had never known lived inside her. She twisted as need clawed through her passage. It seemed to build much faster now that she understood what satisfaction felt like. Her clitoris was begging for attention, her thighs already open in invitation.

  Cullen appeared to agree. He slid a hand down her body quickly tonight, stroking her skin but not hesitating at the top of her mons. He parted the flesh protecting her clitoris in a smooth motion.

  The first touch made her moan. Pleasure spiked up into her belly. He lifted his head from her nipple to watch her face. That single fingertip pressed slow circles onto her clitoris. The pleasure overwhelmed her and her eyes fluttered shut as the intensity hit her all at once.

  All she wanted to do was feel.

  “Do ye like that, lass?”

  Her eyes popped open because she couldn’t believe he was asking about…about something so intimate.

  That teasing grin was back on his face. He slid his finger down the lips of her sex to the opening of her passage. A new sensation hit her as he circled that opening, teasing it. Her hips lifted toward his touch, craving to be filled.

  “Ye dinna answer my question.”

  “I can’t.”

  He chuckled and slid his finger tip back up to her clitoris. “Yer voice sounds like it is working fair well.”

  He paused, not moving but only resting on the sensitive bit of flesh. The teasing look in his eyes hardened into a demanding one that she knew well now. The man wanted his way.

  “Aye.” She growled the word at him.

  He chuckled in response, but his finger moved, sending sweet delight through her. It was tightening again, her belly becoming a pool of hot need. She craved the satisfaction that had ripped through her last night.

  “Do ye want me?”

  “Why do ye torment me?”

  His expression softened. “Can ye nae believe that I want to hear ye tell me that ye crave my possession? And nae just because I know where to rub ye?”

  There was something in his tone that touched her deeply. His hand had gone still again, but this time it was because he craved something from her that only she might grant him. Sliding her hands up to his face, she cupped his cheeks and spread her thighs wide in invitation.

  “I want ye.”

  He needed no more urging. His body covered hers, pressing her down into the mattress again. He didn’t smother her but held his weight above her, giving her enough but not too much. She felt the hard tip of his cock slipping between the folds of her sex.

  “I don’t just want ye, Bronwyn. I crave ye.”

  He thrust slowly into her. The pace frustrated her until pain nipped at her.

  “Easy, lass. It gets easier with repetition, I promise ye.”

  His words proved true when he slid deep without much more disc
omfort. She didn’t ache as she had last night, only a few twinges as her passage accepted his entry once more.

  “As ye told me, ye keep yer promises.”

  He withdrew and plunged back into her. “I do indeed.”

  She didn’t want to talk. There was far too much sensation for her to think about words. Every inch of her body was one huge receptor. Every place their skin touched added to the wealth of delight filling her. She lifted her hips for each thrust from his, learning the rhythm. Each stroke of his cock slid along her clitoris, pushing her closer to the edge. His breathing became rough as hers turned shallow. She strained toward him, seeking release.

  It hit her hard. Jerking and ripping at every thought, every idea. The wave of satisfaction was so strong it washed everything away leaving her gasping in limp surrender.

  But Cullen joined her in that state, his body driving a few final times into hers before his seed erupted deep inside her. He pressed her hard to the bed as his seed filled her, a growl leaving his lips. But his arms quivered beneath her fingertips exactly as hers did. It was an unspoken thing, but she felt it, that moment when they were simply both slaves to the passion their bodies had for each other. For the moment it was enough to satisfy her pride. The need to struggle against him and their marriage died.

  It would sprout anew in the morning, but she allowed it to lie dormant. The bed felt like a perfect sanctuary from the world where she was McQuade and he McJames.

  He rolled over, shaking the bed when he landed on his back.

  “I swear ye are a siren sent to lure me to my death.” He sat up to grasp the bedding, pulling it up over them both. “But I’m going to die a happy man.”

  “If I’m a siren then ye are the sailor set to die on the rocks at my feet. We make the most tragic couple.” She stared up at the canopy above her, suddenly fighting off tears. They burned her eyes as she resisted the weakness.

  Cullen sighed. “Ye seem to forget that along with all the other things in this world there is still hope. I prefer to think about that more than the tragic fates that have befallen others. I plan to be the sailor who enchants ye so completely, ye cannot bear to watch me die.”