by Paula Quinn
Alex frowned and released her hands. “Keely. Ye disappoint me greatly. Where is the brave woman I married, the one who dinna stumble over her words in front of Father Michael, who accepted her future as my wife?”
“Ye dinna give me a choice!”
“Aye, I did.”
“When?”
“Did anyone force ye into that gown? Make ye stand in front of the priest and my captains? Ye spoke the words, lass—freely.”
Keely covered her face with both hands, struggling to take a steady breath. “Ye threatened me, Alex. Made it abundantly clear that I had no choice but to marry the man ye’d chosen for me. I assumed it was Jamie, not ye.”
“Would ye prefer my cousin?” His eyes narrowed.
“Alex! Why are ye playing games with me? Twisting my words—yer words? So much has happened these last few days. So much pain and death. How could I think clearly?”
“Lass,” he started. “Whether ye know it or not, our fates were sealed long ago. The day we pledged ourselves to one another, was the day we were legally bound.”
“What are ye saying?”
“Tis known as consent—like handfasting. Though we had no witnesses, we spoke the words before God. Yer marriage to John was invalid.”
“I doona believe it.” Feeling faint, she sat on the edge of the mattress, her slippered feet dangling over the floor.
“I dinna accept it very easily either, lass. But Petro is gifted in many ways. He understands law. If ye doubt my word, ye are welcome to summon him to this chamber and question him thoroughly.”
“Now?”
“Aye.”
She hugged herself, the weight of all these complications, of this new and unknown world, bearing down on her. She felt like she wanted to vomit. “There is no need. I’ve never known ye to be a liar, Alex.” She met his gaze. “This is a cruel outcome for both of us, I think.”
“Cruel?” he repeated. “Unfair, maybe. But not cruel.”
“Ye had other plans for yer future, as did I. Hopes and dreams.”
“Aye.” He looked about the chamber. “Never did I think to come back here to serve as laird. Only to confront my brother for his betrayal.”
“But I thought…”
“Aye, lass. And to give him gold as I said before. I may find it difficult to forgive him for marrying ye, but he’s still a MacKay, still my only brother.”
His words only added to her burden. She had played a part in that betrayal, even if her sire and Laird MacKay, Alex’s father, had left her with no choice but to marry John. “Will ye ever forgive me?”
“Ye doona want to hear my answer, Keely.”
“But I do.”
Their gazes locked. His green eyes were so intense and cold.
“Forgiveness. Trust. Love. Tenderness. None of these things are necessary to have a successful marriage.”
“Ye are very wrong.”
“Nay, I am not.”
“Aye, ye are,” she countered. Convincing Alex of anything seemed impossible, but it dinna mean she had to accept his heartless idea of marriage.
He released a mirthless laugh that cut through her. “This isna a fairytale, Keely.”
He was strong. He was brave. He was handsome. And he was Laird MacKay now. But he wasna happy. Maybe if she dedicated her time to changing his mind…
“Shall I show ye what makes a fruitful match?”
Did she have a choice in the matter?
Before she could answer, Alex stepped between her legs, towering over her, the passion in his expression unmistakable. She held her breath as he cradled her face between his big hands and tilted her head upward. He lowered his lips to hers, gently kissing her quivering mouth. The contact made her tingle all over. But her instinctual defenses made her keep her lips tightly sealed. One kiss from him could change everything. And she couldna hold her breath much longer!
He chuckled and drew back. “Is this yer idea of a kiss, Keely?”
“I-I…”
As soon as she spoke, he struck, his masculine scent and taste consuming her as his tongue swept over hers. His hand slipped underneath her hair to her nape and locked her in place. And against her better judgment, she returned that kiss with equal hunger—with desperate need to be wanted. Five long years hadn’t extinguished her inner fire for Alex. With one flick of his tongue, one touch, she transformed into the wanton maiden she used to be whenever he was close. Only this time, the happiness that bubbled up inside her in the past was sadly gone.
She blamed her nerves—or too much wine—or maybe this was her future. A loveless marriage built on raw lust. A man dinna need to love a woman to get her with child.
“Keely,” he whispered, as he gently urged her to lie back on the bed.
She dinna resist, and he climbed atop her, his knees planted on either side of her body. She gazed up at him, a new wave of emotions assailing her, fear and fascination causing her heart to race. He had noble features and would sire beautiful children. Physically beautiful, but with hearts of stone…
The spell was broken, and Keely struggled to push him off her. “Away from me,” she demanded.
It did little good; he dinna move.
“Did ye hear me?”
“Aye.” He folded his arms across his chest.
“Ye canna keep me here!”
He threw his head back and laughed deeply—irritatingly so. “Ye’re my wife, lass, I can do whatever I wish with ye. And in case ye forgot, that door is barred from the inside and out. We are stuck here together.”
Chapter Fourteen
The more she denied and fought against their mutual hunger, the more desirable his new wife became. Color suffused Keely’s lovely cheeks, and those damnable blue eyes reminded him of the burning sun over the desert. He had no intention of forcing her or hurting her—but she must understand what was going to happen tonight. The marriage must be consummated. He couldna live two lives—his heart in Constantinople and his mind in the Highlands. Nay, he needed to become her husband in every way in order to find the anchor necessary to keep him in Scotland. His ship was still conveniently located only a short ride away, ready to sail wherever he commanded.
“Ye’re heavier than a blasted stone,” she complained. “Get off me.”
Alex had been very careful to balance most of his weight on his knees. She was searching for any excuse to get rid of him. “Nay.”
She sighed. “What if I fall asleep with ye sitting there?”
“Then I will make special use of the time.”
“What?” She sat up, leaning on her elbows.
“Did I stutter, lass?”
“Ye’d use me in such a way?”
Though he wanted to chuckle at her silly thought, he kept a serious expression. “A man must do his duty.”
“Please get off of me. I need a drink of wine.”
“All right, lass. Since ye asked so nicely.” He repositioned himself on the bed and watched as she scurried across the room to the table where food and drink had been left for them.
With shaky hands, she poured herself a measure of wine and gulped it down, then refilled her cup.
“Easy, lass,” he advised. “If ye drink too much, it will take longer for me to do my duty.”
She slammed the cup down and thrust a hand on her hip, looking infuriated and maybe a little drunk. “Ye and yer men can ride away from here, Alex. We’re married as far as the church is concerned. Why stay when ye have so much to return to in Constantinople?”
Her easy dismissal angered him and he stood up. “And leave ye a virgin for another night? For the next man who wants ye?”
She clicked her tongue. “There isna a man left in the Highlands who would dare have me after everything that has transpired these last few days—after the humiliation I’ve suffered.”
“Ye’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
He launched himself at her, capturing her in his arms, tasting her again and again, swallowing her bitterness and the re
mnants of the honey wine she’d just drank. “I am a man, Keely. Ye’re husband.”
Guiding her hand over his stomach and underneath his tartan, he made sure she felt his excitement. And when she feigned innocence and tried to yank her hand free, he whispered in her ear. “Nay, lassie. Doona act as if ye’ve never felt me before.” For she had, many times under a starlit sky. They’d explored each other’s bodies freely through their clothes, kissing and petting until he’d nearly lost his mind. But honor had held him back. And by God, since she was officially his wife now, there’d be no more teasing.
“A-Alex,” she purred. She cupped his manhood and offered her mouth to him.
He tangled his free hand in her long hair, then kissed her wildly. Aye, he wanted her to melt in his arms, to beg for anything and everything he could give her. Though he knew her to be a maiden, Keely had never been shy.
He released her mouth and feathered light kisses down the column of her neck, then nipped and licked the delicate skin between her breasts. The gown hugged her curves perfectly, revealing the generous swell of her breasts. His breasts.
The more he kissed her, the more she arched into him. Alex took advantage of the opportunity, unlacing the front of her dress, until the bodice gaped open enough for him to shove the material of her shift aside. He reached out and stroked her cheek while admiring her flesh. Flesh he wanted to explore and taste. Especially her rose-colored nipple. And he did just that, circling her areola with his tongue. Breathless and weak-kneed, Alex had to hold Keely up.
“Will ye fight me now, lass?”
She shook her head, delightfully complaint and willing.
He smiled like a fool, a hungry fool at that. With little effort, he carried her to the bed. She fell back against the soft mattress. Then Alex stripped his shirt and tartan off, and his boots followed.
Candlelight filled the bedchamber, and Alex stayed still so Keely could inspect his body. Curiosity filled her eyes. But when her stare lingered on his cock, he couldna wait any longer. He lifted the hem of her gown, raising it above her hips. What greeted him made him salivate. The patch of dark hair crowning her womanhood and the sight of her slim thighs made it impossible to hold back. He cupped her arse with both hands, lifting her to his face.
He licked gently at first, her feminine scent and taste pleasing—intoxicating.
Keely buried her fingers in his hair, pleading for him to stop at the same time she pressed his head to her core. It made him smile inside, letting him know she wanted this—him—them.
“Alex. Please. What are ye doing?”
If she required further explanation… He let go of one of her arse cheeks and quickly sunk a finger inside her, stroking in rhythm with his tongue. Her legs stiffened and she cried out again and again. But he dinna relent. Nay, she would peak in his mouth, and then he’d steal her kisses, and lick her again.
Seconds later, a faint pulse started, and he sucked the little nub harder.
“Alex!”
Her body went rigid. Alex dinna stop caressing her, he welcomed her excitement. Once she stilled, the only sound in the chamber was her heavy breathing. He crawled up her spent body, finding her staring at the ceiling.
Words weren’t necessary as he continued to unlace her gown. She lifted her body so he could slide it off her, helping him with her shift next, and finally kicking off her silk slippers.
A low moan escaped Alex as he drank in every inch of her naked form. Not one detail escaped his admiration. From the shape of her breasts, flat stomach, the flare of her hips, even the tiny scar on her left knee—it all belonged to him now. She belonged to him. And now that he’d tasted her, heard her cry his name, felt the pulse of her pleasure, all he could think about was burying himself inside her—claiming her and ending the pain from the past.
He’d have waited a hundred years to have her—for her sheath was wet and tight and made for his pikk. Just like her sweet mouth was made for his lips and tongue. “Stand up, lass.”
She lowered her head, meeting his stare.
“Ye want me to get up?”
“Aye,” he said huskily. “I want to see ye—all of ye.”
She slowly climbed off the bed, standing before him.
Another man would have fallen in love with her at first sight, but another man wouldna have ever let her go. And he had, until tonight. He circled her, running his fingers over her warm skin, loving the velvety smoothness of her arms and back, the lines of her legs and that arse … that well-formed, delicious arse. Stopping behind her, he gripped his pikk and gave it a firm squeeze, groaning in need and pain. The image in his mind was filthy and purely animalistic, taking his bride in the same way a stallion mounts a mare.
He wrapped an arm about her waist, tugging her against him. The air around them crackled with dark desire. He kissed her neck, the top of her ear, licked her shoulder, and then pinched her nipples. Keely snaked her hand behind him, finding his cock and bollocks.
“Aye, lass. Touch me just like that. Give it a tender squeeze.”
She did.
“Do ye know what it’s like to wait so long, Keely? To dream of the night when all yer bloody dreams will come true?” Damn his weakness! He’d said too much, and it angered him. She must never know, dinna deserve to know how much he’d wanted her while he was away.
“Aye,” she whispered. “Those same dreams plagued my sleep every night.”
Her confession hit him in the heart. What he struggled to keep inside, she offered without hesitation. True feelings for him.
“Do ye love me, lass?”
She made no reply, but continued to provoke him with her touch.
Love had no place in this bedchamber. It would only complicate his simple plan. Duty over love—an heir to secure his clan’s future, that was all he owed Keely, his brother, sire, and the people celebrating in the great hall. That dinna mean he couldna enjoy getting his wife with child.
He walked Keely to the end of the bed, buried his face in her hair, and gathered her breasts in his hands. “Bend over the bed for me, lass. Spread those luscious legs for me.”
Keely remained ever responsive and eager to please.
Alex positioned himself at her entrance, running his fingers down her back. Then he fanned her dark tresses out and the sweet smell of heather filled the air. Testing her readiness, he gently pushed the tip of his member inside her. Aye, she was still wet, very wet. He pulled out and ran his fingers over her slick entrance. She pressed against him, urging him inside her.
“I am ready, Alexander, and know what to expect.”
She gripped the fur tightly, waiting.
“As ye wish, Wife.”
It took four gentle thrusts to open her enough to submerge himself inside her. Keely cried out in pain and pleasure, but was quick to reassure him that she dinna want him to stop. Not that he could have. He thrust again and again, satisfying that selfish need to take her from behind, but then wanted more—much more.
He pulled out, flipped her over, and draped one of her legs over his shoulder. “I want to see yer beautiful face, Keely.”
She cupped his cheek and nodded. “And I want to see yours, Alex.”
He pumped inside her again, this time with less resistance. Heat and wetness enveloped him, and he leaned forward and plundered her mouth—kissing her with a force he’d never experienced before. Keely dug her fingernails into his shoulder, her tongue wrestling with his, her lips tightly sealed over his mouth.
The moment she began to unravel, he, too, lost control. They both screamed in utter shock and pleasure, the years of waiting for fulfillment finally over.
*
When she awoke sometime in the night, Keely slipped from underneath her husband’s arm and padded to the other side of the chamber. She stopped in front of the hearth where the fire still burned warm and bright. Something magical had occurred between them, something she couldna quite explain yet. After their first joining, he washed her with a soft, wet cloth, and then cleane
d himself before crawling underneath the furs with her. Then he made love to her again, less frenzied this time, but with the same care for her pleasure.
Neither said a word as they drifted into sleep, but she remembered hearing his steady breathing, even a soft snore before she faded.
Just to prove Alex’s words, she walked to the door and slid the bolt back, seeing if it would open. As he’d warned, the door was locked from the outside. She couldna get away even if she wanted to. Turning back toward the bed, she knew why she suddenly dinna have the need to run. Alex. He’d erased any doubt of where she belonged and who she belonged to. No wonder the church warned of the careless giving and taking of flesh. Something so special, so sacred, should be reserved for a husband and wife. That’s what she’d learned in her short time of intimacy with her husband.
But did he feel the same?
Could he feel anything after living as a heathen, beyond the grace of God?
“Keely?” Alex sat up. “Are ye all right, lass?”
“Aye.”
“Come back to bed then.”
“I am hungry.” Her stomach growled.
Alex grinned. “Our bedsport has given ye a better appetite.”
Keely wandered to the table and picked over the bread, cheese, and meat. Anything would taste good right now. She chewed a piece of smoked venison and swallowed it down with a sip of wine. “Are ye hungry?” She gazed at Alex.
“In a different way, lass.” The same expression that had darkened his face earlier was back. The look of lust.
She would never forget—even if she tried. No man had ever looked at her like that.
He threw the furs back.
Keely couldna keep her eyes off him as he stood up. His blond hair hung lose about his shoulders. And his powerful body, all that muscle and tanned skin, his confident stride … his erection. She closed her eyes for a quick moment and sucked in a breath. Aye, his member was long and thick and ready to be inside her again. He dinna need food or drink, he wanted her. As he reached her, he caressed her cheek, and she shivered.
