by Mia Pride
“You look quite nice, yourself, Garreth,” she said shyly and then looked away again. He liked this side of Ceara. Och, he loved her fierce side as well, perhaps too much. But when she was rendered speechless in his presence, he felt like there was more between them than she would admit.
The druid tied a rope around their clasped hands and recited some vows, praising the gods and the earth for its bounty. He said a prayer of health and fertility for Ceara and Garreth and he squeezed her hand again, giving her a heated look when the druid spoke of them having children. He wanted her to know that he looked forward to making a family with her. By the increase in her breath and the parting of her lips, he could see that the thought interested her as well.
“Tis time to recite your vows to Ceara, Garreth.” The druid’s words snapped him out of his visions of Ceara heavy with his child.
Garreth looked at Ceara silently for a moment, reading her features, searching for any sign of doubt. When he felt confident that the look in her eyes was a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, not disgust or fear, he breathed a sigh of relief and spoke his vows to her.
“I pledge my love to you, and everything that I own. I promise you the first bite of my meat and the first sip from my cup. I pledge that your name will always be the name I cry aloud in the dead of night. I promise to honor you above all others. Our love is never-ending, and we will remain, forevermore, equals in our marriage. This is my wedding vow to you.”
A few men sniggered at his promise to cry her name aloud at night and Ceara seemed to burn up as her face turned bright red. He loved making her blush. It was not an unknown vow, yet it was not one of the more common ones. No doubt, Ceara had not expected that. He wanted to let her know that he meant what he had said. He would be true and faithful to her, forsaking all other women. She was it for him now. He hoped Ceara knew how seriously he took his vows and, by including that line, he was hoping to erase her fears of any infidelity.
“Ceara, tis your turn, lass,” the druid said kindly, clearly seeing the mortification on her face.
Clearing her throat and straightening her back, she opted to speak a more traditional vow. “Ye are blood of my blood and bone of my bone. I give ye my body, that we two might be one. I give ye my spirit, `til our life shall be done.”
Garreth smiled at her vows, simply glad that she should say them, then faltered when she continued. “You cannot possess me for I belong to myself. But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me, for I am a free person. But I shall serve you in those ways you require and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand.”
The crowd laughed uproariously and Garreth could not help himself. He tilted his head back and let out a booming laugh of his own. Aye, she was a feisty wee thing and he was glad to see her spirit coming back. She spoke the old vows from the days when marriages were arranged more frequently. Though most marriages were love matches and these vows were seldom heard, he admired her usage of the old words, reminding them all that theirs was an arranged union and that she would not be easily commanded. He grunted. She had already made that point quite clear.
Arranged or nay, Garreth wanted her, and now was the time to prove it—not only to her, but to all those who came to witness their marriage. “Och Ceara, I am quite certain the honeycomb will taste much sweeter coming from your...hand,” he emphasized that last word, making it clear he meant another part of her body altogether. She gasped and covered her heart with her free palm, clearly unprepared for him to make such a brazen, public comment. Everyone cheered even louder as he dipped her backwards and planted his lips on hers, once again claiming her, showing the world that he desired his wife and would not stand for another man to ever touch her again.
She stiffened in his arms, apparently not as willing to succumb to his kiss publicly as she had been in private. But Garreth did not mind. He had made his point to her and those around them. He wanted her. He released her lips with a loud smacking sound and sent her a confident grin full of dark promises. He saw the flash of rebellion in her eyes, but her lips lifted slightly at the corners and he knew she thoroughly enjoyed his display.
The druid shrugged at their behavior and removed the rope from around their wrists while addressing the crowd. “Behold, the newly wedded couple, Garreth and Ceara Mac Cecht!” The crowd went wild with applause and Garreth swept Ceara up behind her knees, shocking her as she squealed and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He placed a soft kiss on her lips again, this time not for show. It was soft and lingering, just for her. He felt her soften against him as she sighed. She may not have wanted this marriage, but, by the gods, Garreth would make sure she never regretted it.
ARRIVING BACK TO GARRETH’S home...her home now, she realized, she felt her new reality sink in. Had the druid truly called her Ceara Mac Cecht? She was a married woman now. Married to the man she had always expected to marry and yet, something felt off. He had just lost his father the night before and sustained an injury himself. She knew he was grieving terribly for the loss of his father, but as the new king of their tuath, he still had duties to fulfill. She was just one of those duties.
He groaned in pain as he slowly lowered her to her feet and she released her hold around his neck. “Are you all right, Garreth?” She meant to speak of his wound, or his father’s passing, but deep down, she was also hoping he was all right with his new wife as well.
He grunted and rubbed his side, but flashed her a proud smile and stepped closer, removing the wreath of flowers from her hair and combing his fingers through her waves. “Lass,” he purred, sending shivers throughout her body. “I am more than all right. I was not so certain you would show up today,” he grinned.
“I was not so certain I would show up either,” she jested, poking a finger into his chest.
Grabbing her finger, he brought it to his lips and placed a kiss at its tip. “I’m very glad you did. I hope you will never regret it.” His words were spoken so softly, full of genuine feeling. She relaxed slightly, believing he was happy with his new circumstances, at least for now.
“Ceara, tis going to be a busy and hard sennight for me, with my father’s death and my inauguration.” He looked at her and his brow crinkled. She placed her hand on his cheek and nodded, giving him a supportive smile.
“I know, Garreth. I expected that when we married today, and I will help in any way I can.”
Grabbing her hand in his, he frowned, showing the pain he was truly feeling for his loss. “Did you marry me because you pity me, lass?” The look of doubt on his face caused her heart to constrict and guilt consumed her. He was not entirely wrong. She would likely have said nay to marrying him today if not for fear of hurting him further. But she was not sorry she had done so. In fact, as reality set it, she felt more and more content with being the wife of Garreth Mac Cecht. It was, after all, the role she was born and bred to fulfill.
“Nay, Garreth.” She felt that honesty would always be best, so she worried her lower lip between her teeth, wondering how to best explain herself. “Perhaps, if you had not been injured or lost your father, I would have suggested we wait longer, but I wanted to be here for you, during your greatest time of need...as your wife.”
A smile spread across his face and he stepped closer to her again, placing one large hand behind her neck. Her breath hitched as she realized he meant to kiss her again. The man infuriated her so easily and yet, his slightest touch set her nerves on fire.
“I am a fortunate man, Ceara. You have a good, gentle heart. I am proud to have you by my side.” His lips lowered to hers and she stood on tiptoe, bringing her mouth closer to his. When they connected, it was like a violent storm of need began to brew in her core. And when his tongue gently ran along the seam of her lips, she willingly opened to him, allowing him to take what he wanted...what she wanted.
His kiss deepened and he groaned, pulling her body flush to his. She gasped in delight at his assertiveness and wrapped her
arms tightly around his neck. Before she knew it, she was floating, weightless in his arms. He scooped her up and she wrapped her thighs tightly around his waist, avoiding his wound while supporting her own weight as he began to carry her away. She did not know where they were going, but with him carrying her so effortlessly in his large, warrior hands, she could not care, so long as they were joined.
He began to walk down a corridor with her lips still fiercely attached to his and her eyes closed as sensations swarmed her body. She felt herself begin to fall and she squealed, but landed softly on a pile of furs.
Opening her eyes, she looked around the dimly lit room, only one tallow candle flickering softly on a table in the corner. She was sitting on a large bed with a solid wood frame and a hay-stuffed mattress piled with soft pelts of animal fur and wool blankets. She was in his bed.
Looking up at him warily, she suddenly felt panicked. She had no idea what was to come next, but she knew it was her duty to do it. She also knew she wanted to do it. She was not entirely certain what was to be done, but as long as it was with Garreth, she instinctively knew her body would revel in it, if their kisses were any indication. She seemed to have a low, thrumming in her core whenever he was near. Would that have anything to do with what he intended?
His eyes were heavy and hooded as he looked down at her, his gaze locked on the thin blue silk stretching across her breasts. The fabric felt luxurious against her skin, but she had no idea he appreciated it as much as she did.
“Do you like your new bed, wife?” he stalked toward her as she sat on the edge of the bed, towering over her with his height. Anticipation flowed through her as she took a deep breath. It had not occurred to her that he would want to share his bed with her every night, but the thought was not an unpleasant one.
She swallowed and licked her lips, taking in the hard muscles of his arms as he bore his weight above her, leaning closer to her face. “Tis a fine bed,” she said awkwardly, not quite sure what else she should say.
He chuckled at her innocent response, and she realized in that moment how very inexperienced she was compared to this man, her husband. How many lassies had he truly bedded? How many lassies had he bedded in this bed? Their bed? “Tis a fine bed, indeed. Tis much finer with you in it,” he whispered as his body closed in on hers. She could feel the bed dip as he leaned in to kiss her, but it was not her lips that he went for. He placed a small, soft kiss on her exposed throat and she tilted her head up, feeling shocks of pleasure run down every nerve from her neck to her core.
She sighed as his tongue flicked out and ran a lazy trail down to her collarbone. Suddenly, she could not care less how many lassies the man had bedded, as long as she was the last one he ever touched this way again. His large hands came up to the top of her gown and tugged, but the fabric, though delicate, was less giving than her usual wool or linen garments and he was unable to remove it from her shoulders.
“Stand up,” his gruff voice insisted and she found that not a single part of her wanted to disobey his harsh command. The same arrogance that had driven her crazy all these years was suddenly driving her wild. She may have vowed to never allow him to command her, but perhaps she could amend that vow to only the times outside their bedchamber, for she quite enjoyed his commanding presence in the moment.
Ceara stood up, but he barely stepped back to give her space. His body towered over hers and the heat radiating off his body felt like a hearth. Even his natural scent was all male, musky, with a hint of leather.
“Remove your dress, wife.” A shiver ran up her spine. Aye, she quite liked his commands now, and his usage of the word “wife” was not as aggravating as it had been earlier that morning when he teased her. His body was almost pressed against hers, only a hand’s width between them. She had no room to bend over and grab her hem, so she began to slowly gather the silk at her legs into her fists, feeling the soft fabric glide up her thighs higher and higher.
Garreth looked down as she worked, riveted as he watched her long, slim legs become more and more exposed to him as she continued to gather the soft blue silk. Just as her fingers touched the bottom hem of the dress, the fabric pooled in her clenched fists in front of her and she stopped. Her entire legs up to the tops of her thighs were bare and she could feel the chill of the room slide over her skin.
“Higher,” he whispered, focusing on the fabric in her hands, still barely covering the center of her, the part that mysteriously ached. Yet, she hesitated. This was the most vulnerable moment of her life and, though she wanted to please him and delighted in the attention he gave her, she had never been exposed to anybody in her entire life, aside from her mother. What if he did not like what he saw? What if she truly was a toad, just as she had always believed? He had seen so many lassies unclothed, or so she suspected. How would she compare?
She looked up at him nervously and saw nothing but pure lust in his gaze. He wanted her and that knowledge made her suddenly feel powerful and bold. “How much higher?” she teased, lifting the fabric only slightly more, baring just a touch more of her thighs.
“More,” he pleaded. When she did not show any signs of moving, he growled and slid his hand beneath the silk, skimming a warm hand up the inside of her thigh. The sensation was unlike any she had ever felt and her legs became weak, quivering as his finger slid further up. “More,” he repeated, reaching the juncture of her thighs. Ceara had to focus on her breathing. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and a small shriek escaped her lips when she felt his finger graze her center.
She jumped at his touch. It was warm and gentle, almost nonexistent, and yet, she felt its existence more than she had felt anything in her entire life. A sigh left her as she thrust her hips forward, begging for more of his touch. Nudging her legs further apart, Garreth gave Ceara a knowing smirk. He knew she wanted him, yet was uncertain what to do, and he had no qualms about guiding her body.
His hand explored deeper, parting her and learning the areas of her body that no man other than Garreth would ever know. He let out an appreciative hum when her hips began to move in tandem with his circular ministrations. “You like my touch, wife?” he purred, stroking his thumb over a part of her that made her jerk with pleasure. She was feeling dizzy and weak, as if her legs would give way at any moment.
“Aye,” she whispered as he continued to move, pulsing sensations beginning to build in her core.
“Let go, Ceara.” He leaned forward and nipped her ear. She felt an explosion burst forth and her head went dizzy. Low moans escaped her lips one after another and her head fell forward, resting on his solid chest as she shuddered. His heart beat frantically against her cheek and she gripped his arms, holding on for dear life as she recovered from whatever it was he had done to her.
“What was that?” she sighed as she clung to him. Her dress had fallen back down to her ankles as she laid back on the bed, no longer feeling like she could stand on her wobbly legs.
“That,” Garreth leaned over and placed a kiss on her nose, “was the pleasure a husband gives to his wife,” he murmured as he kissed her forehead, then each eyelid, and finally found her lips, giving her the most affectionate, lingering kiss he had yet to give her. “Did you enjoy it?” he asked, moving over to nuzzle her neck.
“Aye, it was wondrous.” She sighed and raised her hands over her head as she tried to catch her breath.
“That was nothing, lass. I have much more to show you.” Her eyes widened and she saw the look of lusty pride on his face. It was evident the man was confident in his skills and anxious to share them.
“Show me,” she pleaded and watched as he slid down the length of her body, tugging her dress back up her legs again. His hands glided as he pushed the dress up past her hips. He may have already touched her between her thighs, but he had yet to gaze upon her exposed flesh and the gleam in his eye made her stomach flutter.
Lifting her hips, she watched as he tugged the dress up her body and over her breasts. When he finally pulled it over her head,
he bunched the delicate fabric into his fists and threw it behind him. She was fully exposed to his gaze and she saw his eyes slide down her body. “By the gods, you are a beautiful woman.” His words struck something deep in her heart. For so long, she had feared something was wrong with her. He had never shown any interest in her, nor had any other man. She believed herself to be unsightly or undesirable. But to see his true reaction to her now, caused her throat to constrict as she choked back a tear.
“Ceara, what is the matter?” He sat next to her and gripped her hand in support. “Do not fear me, lass.”
She swallowed and shook her head, feeling the one tear she tried to hide slide down her temple and into her hairline. “I do not fear you, Garreth. I always thought you found me undesirable. I was so afraid you would turn away from me in disgust.”
The look in his eyes softened her heart even more to him. She saw guilt and regret in those hazel depths. “Och, Ceara. I am an arse,” he groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. “You are such a bonny lass. More than any other lass in the tuath. I treated you terribly. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Did you marry me simply because you were honor-bound to do so?” she queried, bracing herself for an honest answer that may destroy her.
He shook his head adamantly and gripped her bare hips in his strong hands, running small circles on her flesh with the pad of his thumb. “Nay. I will admit I pushed you away for too long, blaming you for what I saw as a loss of my free will. But it was never your fault, Ceara. I was a fool. I married you because I wanted to marry you, because I finally took a good look at the woman promised to me, finally realized how cruel I had been, and knew in my heart I was the luckiest man in all Ériu. What I had viewed as a curse for so long turned out to be the greatest of gifts.”
