Aislinn didn’t know what to do with the feelings he was conjuring effortlessly within her body – she was again out of control, being touched and fondled by him in a shamefully sinful way that, granted, was much more pleasant than being spanked . . . but the pleasure! It was as if every inch of her skin was alive and aware for the first time in her life – and certain inches of her were much more alive than she was sure they were ever intended to be! The area between her legs – the one that no nice woman, no decent woman ever even admit to herself that she owned – was throbbing and aching in a distractingly pleasant way that made her want more – made her want him to touch her down there, or let her rub against him, and various other truly scandalous things that almost made her question her sanity.
Why, she couldn’t even rouse herself to stop him from suckling at her as eagerly as a newborn, flicking the tip of that broad flat tongue incessantly over her nipple until she arched unknowingly, inviting him to take more of her into his mouth – practically demanding it.
Kell was counting himself a lucky man more times over than he could count – she was responding to him. She might not really know it, and could even be fighting against it within herself, but her body was encouraging him with her tiny whimpers and the way she pressed herself to him, offering herself to him like a virginal sacrifice.
Emboldened by her response, Kell let his hand slide down her tummy, stopping just above that thatch covered mound to reach up and capture her lips with his as he slid one finger between her moist lips.
Aislinn had had no idea what he was going to do, but she certainly didn’t expect that! With one monumental effort, she threw herself away from him, across the vast expanse of the bed, scrambling off it to face him, hunched, poised to defend herself despite her nudity.
Kell could still taste their kiss on his lips as he watched her watch him warily. He’d been too involved, had forgotten how skittish she was likely to be about some things. He sighed heavily, his own aching flesh throbbing between his legs, actually jerking and seeking the warmth his finger had barely experienced.
“Don’t you ever touch me like that again!” Aislinn hissed at him as she felt about the bed for her chemise.
Without a second thought, Kell grabbed the cloth and threw it over his side of the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. “You are my wife. I will touch you where and when I please, and you’d best get used to that fact.”
Aislinn didn’t have a response. She hated the fact that she had no control over her life any more. That she, in essence, belonged to him, that she owned nothing but that which he allowed her to have. So she remained silent, still tense and ready for him to follow after her and drag her back into his depraved arms.
Instead, he seemed to settle in, pulling up the covers and arranging himself as if he was going to go to sleep. Kell sighed again. He didn’t want to take her when she was afraid. He knew that if she was tense, his invasion would hurt her just that much more. There had to be a better way.
They stayed that way – in a stalemate, neither giving an inch – for a long while, until Kell noticed that she was beginning to shiver. He folded back the sheets and duvet on her side in invitation, but there was no such tentativeness in his tone. “Come to bed, Aislinn.”
She made absolutely no move to obey him.
“Do you need to have your bottom warmed again to remind you to obey me, lassie?” He didn’t rush her. If she got another spanking, it would be because she made a conscious choice to ignore his order, and he was going to give her every opportunity to make the right decision. He didn’t want to have to take her over his lap again, although he would if he had to.
He could see the thoughts running around in her head, and nudged her just a little more. “Apparently I went too easy on you if it’s taking you this long to decide whether or not you want to avoid another trip over my knee, Aislinn.”
That poor lower lip was going to be ragged and bloody by the time she finished with it. He was just about to reach across the bed and pull her over his lap when she slid into bed, barely clinging to her side, a whisper away from falling off, clutching the sheet to her as if it would save her from his evil attentions.
Kell slid over just far enough to loop his big hair arm around her slim waist and drag her backwards into his arms, pressing that poor bottom that seemed to be constantly in peril of getting much more attention than its owner wanted against him, holding her tight when she jumped and tried to get out of his arms.
Chapter 6
“You’re naked!” she accused.
He chuckled at her indignation. “Yes, lassie, I am. I don’t usually sleep in my wedding finery. And, may I remind you, that you’re naked, too.”
Not the smartest thing to say, because it sent her lunging – unsuccessfully – towards her side of the bed, presumably to get some sort of a gown. “Let me up! I need to get my nightgown.”
“No.” Softly said, but, she knew by now, firm as a rock.
“But you – I – we should sleep in something!”
“Why?”
Aislinn huffed, still straining away from him, for all the good it was doing her. He held her in a depressingly secure, completely pain free manner that only served to anger her more. “Because it’s the decent thing to do!”
“That doesn’t sound like very much fun.”
“Let me go.” She wasn’t begging, and she wasn’t really asking, either. It was the closest thing to an order he’d heard directed his way in a long time, and it made him grin at the thought of his feisty little wife trying to order him around.
“No. Not ever, Aislinn. You’re my wife, and you’d best make peace with that fact. I set the rules of your behavior, and I mete out your punishments if that behavior doesn’t meet with my approval. And I have free and complete access to your body at any time. Do you understand me, lassie?”
Tears flooded her eyes, making Aislinn extremely happy that she was facing away from him.
One of his huge palms covered a recently tanned cheek, patting it possessively. “I’m not going to ask again, Aislinn. Answer me.”
Crossing her fingers in the childish manner of one who is telling an out and out lie, she answered softly, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” Kell wrapped his arms around her, although she merely lay in his arms like a lump. His lips lay up against her ear. “Even though I probably should, I’m not going to demand my husbandly rights from you tonight in hopes of proving to you that I’m not some unfeeling ogre. I may spank you from time to time, Aislinn – and that depends entirely on you and your behavior – but I’m not a cruel man. Maybe if I give you some time to get to know me you’ll start to believe that.”
To her horror, those tears overflowed and trailed down her cheeks, despite how she tried to blink them back. He had no right to be nice to her after all of that. How could she be angry with him – how could she hate him for beating her – when he was so blasted nice? Aislinn didn’t know very many men who would be as patient as he was being. And he was holding her so nicely – she was surrounded by him, and despite the fact that he was naked, it felt good to be held so closely to someone. She felt . . . secure, for the first time in a long time, and she barely recognized it, it had been so long. She was so used to being the one that saw to everyone else’s comfort, the one that stood against those who might try to hurt those she loved, that she couldn’t recall a time when someone had tried to protect her from anyone or anything.
And he was trying to protect her from everything – including her headstrong self.
Confused and tired and more emotional than she’d been in a long time, Aislinn fell asleep even as she was trying to keep the fires of her anger burning. It was just too comfortable, too safe, for her to keep up her defenses against him.
Her heart, the traitor, whispered deep inside her, that with him she didn’t need all those walls . . . and her befuddled brain gave up the fight, letting her slip off into soft white dreams within the arms of the enemy.
Something was tickling the underside of her nose every time she breathed. Aislinn wiggled her nose, but that didn’t seem to do the trick. She shifted her head a little, but it was still there – even worse, now. Finally she roused herself to see what the problem was, and she was appalled when she realized her position: she was lying against the MacNaughton’s side – no, she was mostly on top of him, one of her downright thin thighs between his thick tree trunks, far hand resting casually on his shoulder, as if they slept like this all the time, and her face buried in the coal black dusting on his massive chest – hence the tickling. Every time she breathed in, she tickled her own nose with his chest hair.
When she lifted her head and braced herself to get out of that obscene position, her still bleary eyes collided with his snapping ones.
“Good morning, Mrs. MacNaughton. Stay right where you are. How did you sleep?”
He slipped that order in there between two niceties, so it didn’t really even seem like an order, but Aislinn knew the truth of it. For the rest of her life, she would be expected – by him even more so than conventional society – to obey his orders. She wasn’t at all sure she could do it.
Out of sheer stubbornness, she did stay exactly where she was – tense and poised to leave him as soon as he released her. She refused to lean back against him – to slide back into that shameful position where her thigh pressed up against parts of him that it shouldn’t.
“Fine, thank you.”
His hand stroked up and down her back, pressing gently, encouraging her to relax into his arms, but she refused to, even when her muscles started twitching with the strain. Finally, he tugged her arms out from under her in one swift movement, forcing her to crash down on top of him, then clamping her to his side – never hurting her, but not letting her move away from him, either.
“I liked you sleeping on top of me. Maybe tonight I’ll sleep on top of you.”
Aislinn thought she probably wouldn’t survive that particular position – he was likely to either smother or crush her, and neither idea was pleasant.
Suddenly, Aislinn cocked her head, concentrating. There seemed to be voices coming from the lawn outside their bedroom, like a crowd was yelling up at them for some reason she couldn’t possibly fathom. Kell moved her gently to one side, then vaulted out of bed to the window, throwing it open and yelling down at them in Gaelic, which meant that Aislinn didn’t understand one word of the exchange.
Sighing in frustration and running a weary hand through his hair, Kell came back to the bed – and for once his eyes weren’t on her. They were, instead, considering the sheet beneath her for some strange reason.
“Okay, lassie, here’s your chance. Get off the bed,” he said, already in the process of pulling the sheet towards him. For once, Aislinn did what she was told without a word, watching him curiously.
How the dirk got into his hand, she would never know, but before she had a chance to stop it, he’d gouged his free hand, squeezing it into a fist to drip blood onto the sheet. At her horrified, yet quizzical expression, he explained as he milked a little more blood from his hand, “They want proof of your virginity, Aislinn. I didn’t take it last night, but there’s no need for anyone but us to know that. There’s many a bride whose gallant husband has saved her reputation by letting a little of his own blood for the show.”
Dumbstruck, Aislinn watched him bring the sheet to the window and hang it out, the prominent red stain apparently meeting with the crowd’s approval as a loud cheer swelled through them. Aislinn was appalled that they would demand such proof in this day and age, and endlessly humiliated that he had had to provide it, although she did worry about what it was that he should have done to her that would have been bad enough to make her bleed . . .
“Bloody rabble,” he complained, turning back to her, noticing that she looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to make a real explanation about what had just gone on. He wasn’t even sure that he knew exactly what had happened; he only knew that it was a long standing – if nosey and obtrusive – tradition.
As soon as he began to walk towards her, she began to back up. “Stay.” He considered it a small victory that she stayed. Kell stood in front of her, turning her so that they were standing next to the bed. “Don’t be frightened of me, Aislinn. I’ll say it as often as I need to until you believe me – beyond spankings, I would never deliberately hurt you.”
Kell lifted her into his arms, and tumbled the two of them onto the bed on top of the pillows. Their weight together jarred the little packaged that Jenny had planted, hurling it off the bed to land with a wet smack on Kell’s thigh. Intrigued, he looked down, saying, “What’s this?”
Aislinn was just as curious as he was.
It seemed to be a small, stretchy pouch of skin that, when squeezed, oozed deep red blood. Aislinn was just reaching for it when Kell snatched it away from her, standing up from the bed in all his naked glory and glaring down at her as if she was an English invader.
“Did you really think you could get away with this?” He murmured, his words all the more terrifying for the fact that they were whispered.
“Get away with what?” she asked. She had no idea what he was talking about.
Kell chuckled humorlessly. “I’m not that stupid, you know. I would have been able to tell, regardless.”
“Tell what?”
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Aislinn felt like a rodent in the jaws of a terrier. Just a little harder, and he’d snap her neck. “You can stop the innocent act. Your scheme’s fallen apart. I’m just glad I found out before I actually had you – there’s no telling what kind of disease I might have come away with – nor how many men have been before me.” Kell didn’t think he’d ever been so angry in his life. He couldn’t believe how completely he’d been played for a fool. She must’ve been in on it with her uncle, and probably that maid of hers, too. A nasty little triumvirate passing off her damaged goods on an unsuspecting man. She might not have gained a lot of money, but she had a title and his good name.
If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have realized that there was an easy way to solve the question of her virginity or the lack there of – all he had to do was to tumble her onto her back and delve between those creamy thighs, and he would have had all the evidence he needed, one way or the other.
But he’d let himself get taken in – get all romantic and dreamy about how they might have as warm and loving a relationship as his parents, however unusual that was for him. He’d wanted her to be what she presented herself as – a young, innocent girl who would be proud to be the mother of his children and a credit to his clan.
As it was, he got her money, but wouldn’t lie with her now for all the tea in China. His brothers would have to produce the heir and a spare. He wouldn’t touch his wife now if his life depended on it. Without another glance at her, he put the bladder on the bedside table and walked to the door, turning back only to say in the most lethal tone Aislinn had ever heard, “Your father and your Uncle might have let you run around like a hoyden, but you’ll not shame my family or my name. You’re not to leave this room without an escort – either myself or my brothers. You are not to address any other men at any other time. You will take your meals in your room. I shall make your excuses to our guests.” He made his little speech to the floor, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her.
He slammed the door behind him, leaving Aislinn to sit in a heap in the middle of the bed and wonder just exactly what it was that he thought she’d done, and why in Heaven’s name someone would put blood into a chicken bladder.
It was several boring hours later when Jenny finally arrived, opening the door slowly and looking carefully behind her and up and down the hall before she disappeared into the room. She flew to her charge, having seen both the bloody sheet, and her Lord’s behavior of this morning. He was charging around the place like a bear with a thorn in his paw – nothing he saw and nothing he did was right, and anyon
e else’s efforts were beyond consideration.
Jenny had been spending time below stairs, chatting with the other servants, who were a little in awe of her inclusion in the marriage ceremony. Jenny had explained to them that the MacNaughton’s brother had insisted, and that their Lady was like a daughter to her, having lost her own mother at birth.
The servants were all baffled by Lord MacNaughton’s behavior. From what she could glean from them, this was an aberration. He wasn’t an easy man to work for by any means – he demanded a lot from his people, but it wasn’t anything more than he was willing to do himself. He expected their best effort from everyone, himself included. People were clamoring to come work for him, and those who did were well cared for – he made sure those who wanted them had good houses and wages, and he encouraged his servants to marry and have families, and he made it easier to do so than he might have.
No one could come up with a reasonable explanation for why he would be in such a bad mood – he’d just married a gorgeous woman who came to him an innocent and seemed to be interested in joining her husband’s family and observing the clan’s traditions. What more could he ask for?
The general consensus was that one could never tell with the gentry, but that didn’t really set well with most of the staff. They felt they knew this man better. He wasn’t given to fits of temper that weren’t attributable to something – thieves, bad weather, sickness, something.
Jenny was growing more and more alarmed the more she heard from everyone else. Something had gone badly wrong. Finally, she was able to sneak away from them and go to her Lady’s room.
Aislinn was just sitting in the middle of the bed, biting her lip, deep in thought.
“Milady, did something happen between you and Lord MacNaughton?”
Aislinn didn’t have any interest in answering that question. Instead, she asked, “Jenny, why would there be a bladder full of blood on my headboard?”
The MacNaughton Bride Page 7