“Oh, they do, but it tastes particularly good here because...” She stopped, pink coloring her cheeks. “Because it’s so much more cozy and welcoming in Scotland than I expected.”
He let out a laugh. “Did you picture a dark dungeon and cold blizzards blowing down from the mountains?”
“I’m ashamed to say what I pictured. I’ve always been told the Scottish were savages, not fit to keep company with the English. As children, we’re taught that Scots are beastly and violent, and best to avoid at all costs.” She eyed him from beneath her long, blonde lashes. “I haven’t found you beastly or violent at all.”
The poor misguided woman. She must have pictured a very bleak future when she learned she was to become his wife.
“Perhaps I’m secretly beastly,” he teased. He glanced at the half moon outside the frosted window. “Perhaps when the full moon comes I’ll break into savagery, until the daylight makes me proper and kind again.”
“I imagine you are kind no matter what the moon looks like.” Her smile tugged at his heart. “I suppose I was lied to,” she said.
He shrugged. “The English and Scottish have known strife with each other, so of course we regard one another in a less than flattering light. I expected you to be a weak, irritating witch of a woman, to be honest. I’m glad to find you’re not.”
Her smile widened. “Perhaps in the full moon...”
That smile, he could hardly bear it. He moved closer to her, until he could smell the sweet gingerbread on her breath. “May I kiss you, lass? I’ve been wanting to kiss you in the worst way.”
She nodded, her telling blush deepening. “You could have before now. I’m your wife.”
“I don’t want to be a savage about it and kiss you before you’re ready for me to do it.”
A hint of suspicion entered her gaze. “What do the Scottish kiss like? Is it different from the English way?”
“Maybe a little different.”
Before she could ask any more questions, he brought her mouth to his and partook of her innocent lips. She was a delight to kiss, tentative and wholesome and more tempting than the most practiced wanton. He had to have more. He deepened their kiss in careful steps, taking her soft moans as encouragement to part her resisting lips and taste her more thoroughly. Gentle, gentle, one step at a time.
He stroked her hair as he plundered her mouth, yes, plundered, for all his efforts to be a gentleman rather than a beast. She pressed against his front, holding his shoulders for support before she leaned away and broke their carnal connection.
He waited for recriminations, but she only licked her lips. “I do think it’s done a bit differently here. Kissing. At least from what I’ve seen.”
“Sweet little berry,” he called her in Gaelic, partly because of her charming blush, and partly because she was as succulent as ripe fruit.
“Will you come to bed with me, then?” he asked. “Do you feel ready? We’re here at MacEacharna, safe and warm, with a deep, comfy bed right here beside us. I’d like to make you my wife real and true.”
“I think...” He saw she twisted the folds of her nightgown, as nervous as she was willing. “I think that is a good idea,” she finally said. “I’ve been wondering what the whole thing is like, now that I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
“Afraid of me? I never wished you to be afraid.” He took her hands to stop their nervous wandering. “I’ve lots of things to show you, pleasurable things we can share together, and I promise I won’t be beastly at all.”
Chapter 6
Astounding
He took her breath away, this Scottish man she’d only recently come to know. He was not a beast, no. His size, which had frightened her at first, now seemed impressive and enticing. She held his shoulders as he picked her up and deposited her on the bed. How strong he was. She’d never expected such attributes to set her pulse racing, but it was certainly racing now.
“How lovely you are, Lady Cochrane,” he murmured. Standing on the bed as she was, his eyes were at the level of her breasts. He looked at her body a bit like her uncle’s hounds used to look at a joint of meat as it was carried to the table. Her nipples tightened at his lusty regard.
He lifted his hands to caress her breasts, and though she felt shy, she forced herself to be still for the contact. His palms skimmed across her sensitive nipples, and they began to tingle beneath her light cotton gown.
She wondered how it would feel if his rough palms skimmed over her nipples without the fabric in between. She wanted to know that feeling.
Oh, how quickly he made her feel carnal. She shook her head, trying to keep her wits about her, but he’d left off with her breasts and trailed his fingers up her thighs instead, right up beneath her maidenly nightgown. A shuddering breath rose in her throat.
His gentle caresses continued, rising higher, right up to her hips.
“You mustn’t be anxious, Holly,” he said. “There’s nothing to fear in what we’ll do together.”
“I know, but I’m still anxious.” She let out a small laugh, a discharge of nervous energy. “I’ve never been touched this way.”
“It pleases me to hear that. I’m a possessive sort of man, and you...” He leaned to kiss her on the lips. “You are mine now, aren’t you? All mine?”
“Yes,” she whispered, holding back another trembling sigh.
It felt easier to kiss him now, more natural. She was growing used to his scent, the smell of spice and outdoors, and other mysteries she couldn’t name. She was coming to love his rolling accent and the way his full lips formed her English words. His auburn hair was damp and hastily combed, not braided but left to brush his shoulders. How thick it was. She wound her fingers in it as he kissed her, and his arms tightened about her waist.
“I want to touch more of you,” he said when they parted. “I want to know all of you.”
How intent his eyes were, deeply set and silver-gray in color, like a frosted meadow of lavender. He guided her down onto the bed until she reclined on her back, and then he lay beside her, his hands never leaving her. They touched her arms, her hips, her waist, her breasts, the curve of her shoulder as she reached to cling to him. She was falling under a spell. Her body was warm where it had never been warm before. She felt tense and needful. Her middle throbbed.
“Let me undress you, lass. No, don’t be shy.” He pushed her gown up, revealing her nakedness to his gaze. Now he made a stuttering breath, his eyes raking over her so fiercely that she felt burned by his desire.
He will not hurt you. He has promised not to hurt you.
She couldn’t help covering her most modest parts, which he allowed for just a moment before he moved her hands away. “I’ll want no shame here in our bed, sweet,” he said. “I’ve no shame myself, that’s certain.”
He met her gaze with an edifying look and took off the loose-slung plaid that had protected her, until now, from the full—very full—evidence of his desire. His thick male shaft rose before her eyes, proud and stiff in an intimidating way. He stroked it a couple times to show her that it felt good to him, then took her hands and placed them upon his shaft as well. It was so much bigger than she’d thought, but velvety smooth too.
“It’s your man’s part,” she said, not quite able to disguise the surprise in her voice.
“That’s one of the names for it,” he said. “It’s my cock, as the English call it, and I’m going to use it to put bairns in you, but to pleasure you also. You’ll see, it’ll fit inside you just so.”
She swallowed hard. “I’ll trust your word on that.”
“Silly little Sassenach. Here, let’s see.”
He moved one of his hands lower, down between her legs. One thick finger delved into her quim, and she stiffened a moment until he made an encouraging sound. The sensation arrived then, as he found the center of the throbbing ache that had been rising ever since he began touching and caressing her. Oh, the pleasure as he rubbed his finger back and forth over that one particular
spot...
“Wh—what are you doing to me?” she asked.
“I’m showing you how things feel. You like that, eh? Down here is another lovely place...”
That questing finger left her throbbing spot and circled the entrance to her womb. She was wet there, slick and slippery, so it didn’t hurt when he slowly eased his finger inside to his first knuckle. Oh, it felt strange and very full, but it didn’t feel as unpleasant as she’d feared.
“This is where I’ll put my cock inside you, and it will feel tight and devilish at first, but you must lose yourself to the feeling of our joining, do you see? The feeling of both of us joined together. Will you try to do that for me?”
Bespelled as Holly felt, she would have done anything for him. She nodded, focusing on his features, his stormy eyes and his mouth tight with a sort of control. She wanted him to kiss her, but she wanted him to come inside her also. Oh, she wanted him to do both, and then he did do both, kissing her and parting her lips at the same time his finger probed her wet opening. He pushed in a little farther, and her hips arched of their own accord, as if they wished him to go deeper still.
“Sweet girl,” he said, sighing against her lips. “Sweet Holly.”
His finger withdrew, his hand going elsewhere to stroke her belly and her breasts. She was disappointed a moment, because it left her feeling empty down there, but then she gasped when he pinched her nipple. It was not unpleasant. Oh, no, it felt far better than any caress she’d felt thus far.
“Oh,” she said softly. “My goodness.”
“Does that please you?” His tense lips curved in a small smile and he pinched her other nipple, then stroked the sensitive tip with a softer touch. When he took the nipple in his mouth, between his teeth, her hips positively jerked.
“What a sensitive lass you are,” he said, and she heard great pleasure in his voice. So it was all right to have these wanton reactions. She was relieved to know it, for she was fast losing control over all her body’s responses to him.
“What must I do?” she asked. There had to be some way to manage the longing he’d started. She would do anything to keep it rising, growing sweeter and sweeter. “What happens now?”
He stroked her cheek. “Patience, love. We’ve all the time in the world. Let yourself feel everything.”
“I... I don’t even know what I’m feeling.”
“You won’t at first, but that’s all right. We needn’t name what it is. It hasn’t got a name. It’s just you and I together.”
She squirmed, needing to be closer to him, and he drew her near, settling himself between her legs. “Is that better?” he asked, his voice going lower. “Do you want me to nestle here between your thighs? Yes, love, open for me.”
She parted her thighs wider as the tip of his man part—his cock—pressed at her opening. It felt thicker and heavier than his fingertip, and she tensed as he moved his hips forward.
“Courage,” he said. “I’m going to make you mine now. Stay with me, love.”
He continued into her, her slickness easing the way. She tried not to panic as the tight ache increased. He was stretching her inch by inch. The fullness didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel comfortable either.
“Ohh,” she said in a long whisper. “That feels rather strange.”
“At first, but it will feel better shortly.”
The moment was here, the moment her mother had warned her about. She had named it “crass and awful” and told Holly she must bear it without complaint, but she didn’t feel like complaining. No, instead she wished to enjoy more of the trembling pleasure she’d felt before he started to push within her.
“May I move?” she asked.
He gave a short, sharp laugh and shifted above her. “You may do whatever feels best.”
She arched her hips a little, to make more room for him to come inside. He responded with a groan.
“No, it’s not a bad groan,” he assured her when she frowned. “Move again for me. You feel so tight, so delectable.”
“It feels good to you?”
His only answer was another groan, louder than before. He touched her hair and kissed her, and she realized he was all the way inside her now, far deeper than she’d imagined he could go. She squeezed on his shaft within her, which didn’t bring much sensation. Then she arched her hips and that felt rather nice, because that spot at the apex of her quim slid against his front.
His muscles tensed and he slid out of her, then in again, and it wasn’t as shocking this time.
“You’re not hurting me,” she said, and she hoped that was okay. If she didn’t have to bleed, she didn’t want to. “I can feel you deep inside me, but it doesn’t hurt.”
He said something in Gaelic, and the tone of the words made her stretch her legs wider. The more she arched her hips, the deeper he thrust within her, until all she could think about was how strong and big he was, and how much that strength thrilled her. She held to his shoulders at first, but then she moved her hands down to his hips, to his round buttocks flexing and straining each time he surged forward. Before she knew what she was doing, she was pulling her husband into her.
At the same time, she moved her hips to feel that rising pleasure whenever her front rubbed against him mid-thrust. Now and again, he slid his thumb between them and teased her tingling spot until she cried for more. It felt wonderful, amazing, but there had to be more. Something was building within her, a power or urge that needed to reach its end. When he kissed her, the feeling rose higher. His chest brushed against hers even though he held himself above her, and the rough feel of his hair across her nipples added more fuel to her fire.
He began to slow inside her, his thrusts growing steadier and deeper still. Every few strokes he stopped and waited inside her, making her squirm in giddy frustration.
“I know what you seek, love,” he said, his deep, calm voice reassuring her. “Let go and it’ll come. Take what you need from me.”
What she needed? She needed everything. More of his heat, his force, his cock filling her up. When she ground against him, bucking her hips, he met her in intensity so she felt emboldened to seek even more. He clasped her against him until they felt joined in the deepest intimacy she’d ever felt. When she thought she might die from the power of it all, her rising needs found their peak, a shimmering, shuddering place where the world fell away and it was only the two of them moving together, joined in that one place, but also every place.
He seemed to know the moment she found that release. Perhaps it was her groan, or the way she lost all control as she shook beneath him.
“Yes, sweet Holly,” he said. “Yes, you’ve got it now.”
Indeed, she had it and had it and had it. Her womb clenched about his cock in ecstatic rumbles until she never wanted the squeezing pleasure to end.
“Don’t leave me,” she cried, clinging to his hips. “Don’t leave me yet.”
“No, love. I’ll not leave you.”
In fact, he moved in her as deeply as ever. A few moments later, he made a sound like a wolf’s growl and held still inside her, his body shuddering hard before he went slack with a heady sigh.
“There now, you’re mine.” He made the declaration before he got his breath back. He stroked her hair and tilted her face up to his. “And I’m glad you’re mine. Are you all right, love?”
She nodded, too overwrought to speak. He moved to lie beside her and brought her with him, cradling her against his chest. Again, she thought how silly she’d been to think of him as a savage, a beast. She felt safe and protected in his arms, not threatened. He wasn’t the monster he’d appeared when she first saw him in Mortimer’s courtyard.
Nor was the act they’d just performed crass and awful. She’d worried over her mother’s advice for nothing. She felt tired and a bit used up, but also content and satisfied in his embrace.
“That was astounding,” she said, cuddling closer to him.
“Astounding?” He repeated the syllables. “I d
on’t think I’ve learned that word.”
“It’s like...very nice. Very, very, very nice in a very strong way.”
“Oh.” He traced a lazy finger along her shoulder. “We say iongantach in my language, perhaps.”
“Iongantach. I’ll remember that word. Maybe.”
He chuckled. “In time, you’ll be as skilled at speaking Gaelic as you are at firing my blood. You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”
His mention of blood made her remember the sheets at her uncle’s keep. She didn’t want to look, but she had to. She scooted away from him to inspect the linens beneath them.
“It never hurt at all,” she said, “not really. There’s almost no blood here.”
“There isn’t supposed to be, my bloodthirsty wife. I can cut myself again if you desire.”
“No. You mustn’t.” She returned to his arms and raised her lips for a kiss. It was only after he fulfilled her wish that she thought how natural it felt to seek his affection.
“What now?” she asked. “Have I done everything right? Is there anything else I must do?”
“How eager you are to please me,” he said, giving her a contented smile. “Now we rest and settle together, and think about whether we wish to do it again.”
“We ought to, at least once more.”
Now he laughed aloud. “Once is a certainty, but I hope to make love to you many times over our lives, especially now that I know you enjoy it, my randy English lady.”
His voice held a teasing note, but she was unsure of his expression.
“Is that a bad thing?” she asked. “For a lady to be randy?”
“I think it’s a wondrous development.” He turned to her, pressing against her front, and she felt he was already ready to bed her again.
“It seems I’m not the only one who’s randy,” she said, her smile turning to a laugh as he tumbled her beneath him.
Now that she knew what to expect, she was happy to welcome his caresses, and even give a bit of admiring caresses herself...
Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Page 198