by Eliza Knight
“And I to ye both,” Kenna added.
As the meal was cleared, several men took up lutes, drums and pipes, playing songs that had the clan singing and dancing.
Uncle MacLeod stood by the hearth with Kenna, who watched the group, feeling lighter than she had in years. These were her people. Uncle Duncan would have never allowed such music or dancing in his grand house.
“I’ve got to ask ye a question, Kenna, and I know ye’ve only just returned, but it makes no difference if I ask ye now or I ask ye later.”
She slanted her gaze toward him, already feeling as if she knew him better. “Ask away, uncle.”
“Do ye want to join the rebellion? Or would ye rather go back to Inverness?”
His question was one she’d been thinking about since they arrived on the ferry several days prior. “I would verra much like to be a part of what my parents believed in. I want to stay.” She bit her lip and regarded the crowd, watching Sorley dance and jest with the men. “And I want to marry Sorley.”
Her uncle chuckled. “I hoped the two of ye might bond. He’s a good man, Kenna. And the both of ye will get on just fine. If ye were asking for my blessing, ye have it.”
8
Sorley glanced up from the dance to see that both Kenna and her uncle were watching him. He grinned and excused himself from the men to join them by the hearth.
“I hear ye’ve proposed to my niece,” Laird MacLeod said.
Sorley didn’t correct the man that it had been Kenna who’d proposed first. “Aye, my laird. Alas, she denied me at the time.” He winked at her and enjoyed the flush of color on her cheeks. “I do apologize for no’ seeking your permission first.”
He glanced down at his niece and nodded. “Ye need no’ apologize. I’m no’ a stranger to passion.”
“Do ye wish to marry me still?” Kenna eyed him hopefully.
“Without question,” Sorley rushed. “I am honored and humbled. Ye’ve made me a verra happy man.”
Kenna grinned, and he wanted to reach for her, to tug her into his arms, but he hesitated.
“For goodness’s sake, kiss the lass, will ye?” Laird MacLeod bellowed. “They are to wed!”
Cheers went up around the great hall, but Sorley barely heard them. He lifted Kenna into the air by her waist and twirled her around. Then, as he put her down, he captured her mouth with his. Not caring who was there, who was watching, he kissed her with all the desire he had. He’d wanted to kiss her for days. Missed the warmth of her embrace and reveled in the feel of it now.
When they finally parted, drams of whisky were thrust into their hands, and Laird MacLeod issued a loud toast. The sounds of jubilation echoed off the rafters.
Kenna entwined their fingers and locked her gorgeous blue eyes on him. “I canna wait to be your wife, Sorley. I love ye.”
There was pure honesty in her voice, and he felt as if his chest were going to explode with emotion. “I love ye, too, lass.”
“Why wait?” Laird MacLean asked. “We have a kirk and a priest. Let’s go now.”
“Like this?” Kenna looked down at her men’s riding clothes. “I’ve no’ had a bath in days. I canna marry like this.”
“I’d have ye any way ye want,” Sorley said. “In a gown or dressed as a man. Dirty or clean. I only want ye to be mine.”
“Och, when ye say it like that…” Kenna laughed.
“Nay, nay, nay!” Lady MacLeod broke through the group of them, clapping her hands. “A bride must prepare for her wedding, and we’ll no’ send her off without it. Now, ye lads all go jump in the loch while we bathe and dress the bride.”
And so, Sorley left his intended to the care of the women, who ushered her up the stairs, while he was dragged out to the nearly frozen loch and tossed in by the men.
The wedding was a blur. Kenna was dressed in a gown that had been her mother’s and held a small posey the women put together for her from dried flowers and herbs.
Sorley too was clean and changed into a plaid and crisp, white shirt.
They said, “I do,” nearing midnight under the moon and stars.
Since they’d already had their feast, they were carried into the castle to whoops and cheers and up the stairs to a bedchamber prepared for their wedding night. Kenna barely took note of the decorations. Her eyes were on the large four-poster bed with the coverlet turned down.
Sorley shooed everyone out of the room, shutting and barring the door behind him and leaning against the wide expanse of planked wood. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and watched her as she turned in a circle.
“Wine?” she asked, seeing a jug and two cups placed out on a table, along with shortbread biscuits.
“Aye. But allow me, my lovely wife.”
Wife. The word was so foreign, and yet that was what she was. Would she ever get used to the term?
Sorley shoved off from the door, his bootheels echoing in the silence of the room as he sauntered to the table and poured out the glasses. He handed her one, the red of the wine reflecting her face at her. She sipped slowly of the rich drink, eyes on her husband.
“I didna get the chance to tell ye before that ye are utterly beautiful.” Sorley’s gaze swept the length of her. With every inch he looked on her, she felt him peeling away the layers, leaving her bare.
Kenna grinned. “Thank ye. This is my mother’s dress. I had no idea it existed.”
“I’m glad they were able to keep it for ye.”
“As am I.”
Sorley clinked his glass against hers. “Here’s to many years of happiness and adventure.”
Kenna smiled wide, thrilled at the prospect of their future together. “I look forward to it.”
“Biscuit?” he asked.
“Nay.” Kenna shook her head. What she was hungry for was not a sweet, but his kiss.
She set down her wine and stepped forward, running her fingers up over his chest, feeling the muscles bunch beneath his shirt.
“Our bodies are so different,” she mused. His shoulders were broad, easily one-and-a-half times the breadth of her own. And strong. Oh, so strong. She was no weakling, and yet the size of him was incredible.
Sorley trailed the backs of his fingers up and down her arms as she explored his upper body. “Aye, lass. Verra different. Ye’re definitely more beautiful. And...these. They are perfect.” His hands covered her breasts through her gown, and her nipples responded immediately, beckoning for more of his touch.
Kenna let out a small gasp. And then his thumbs brushed over her nipples, and his mouth captured hers for a searing kiss. As he explored her mouth with his tongue, his hands stroked her breasts, and then one inched lower, cupping the very heat of her. She’d never been touched there before, and she cried out at the jolt of pleasure that went through her at the contact.
Sorley turned slowly with her in his embrace, walking backward and holding onto her until he reached the bed and sat. He tugged her mouth down with him, not breaking their kiss. His hands edged south along the length of her back, massaging her arse, and then lower to the backs of her knees. In one move, he had lifted her, her legs spreading to straddle him, the hardness of his groin pressing the apex of her thighs.
Oh, how she wished he would have removed her gown first, so she could feel that hardness against her delicious place.
But Sorley didn’t seem in any hurry to disrobe either himself or her, and instead, he continued to touch her through her clothes and kiss her senseless. It was she who started to tug at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin beneath her fingertips.
He complied, gazing at her with hooded gray eyes as he finished removing off his shirt, his golden skin gleaming in the candlelight.
Kenna bent to kiss his shoulder, savoring the salt of his flesh, and exploring the span of his collarbone with her tongue until she reached his neck. She liked the taste of him, the feel of his warm skin on her tongue. Prickles of stubble on his neck tickled her mouth as she kissed her way back to his lips.
“Ye’re a temptress,” Sorley groaned.
“Take off my dress, husband.”
“I thought ye’d never ask.”
“I thought ye’d never do it,” she teased right back. Kenna scooted from his lap and turned around.
Sorley stood behind her, much like he had when they were in the darkened vault of her uncle’s house. His breath was warm on her skin, and he kissed the back of her neck as he plucked at the ties holding her in. The fabric swished down her arms, and along with it, the corset she’d been tucked into. Then her chemise.
Her husband didn’t stop there though. He kissed his way along her spine, the cheek of each arse, and then her thighs and the backs of her knees as he untied her hose. She’d never been so thoroughly undressed. Never wanted to put her clothes back on only to have them be taken off with such pleasure again.
By the time she was completely nude, Kenna’s entire body trembled. Sorley turned her around, still on his knees and gazing up at her. Why did that position make her feel so incredibly powerful, desirable? The look in his eyes said he wanted to devour her.
And she wanted him to.
Sorley ran his hands over her legs, cupped her arse and hauled her forward, burying his face in the nest of curls between her legs. Kenna gasped, her knees nearly buckling at the torrent of sensation that came from his mouth there. He nuzzled her nether region, his tongue teasing the secret seam and nudging against a part of her that sparked a fire.
Then she was being lifted into the air again, and he laid her on the bed, the softness of the coverlet on her bare skin. Sorley stood in front of her, spread her thighs, and regarded her womanly parts with a feral hunger she felt deep in her bones. He stripped out of his plaid, kicked off his boots, tore off his hose until he too was naked before her. His body was lean, strong, and deliciously tempting. Muscles rippling everywhere, a thin dusting of hair on his chest that arrowed to the root of his large male arousal.
Goodness... It was very large indeed. Her eyes widened as she took him in, wondering just how they would fit together. Speculating if her body would be able to accommodate him.
“It will work,” he said as if reading her mind. “And it will be amazing.”
She nodded, believing him instantly, trusting in him.
The warm roughness of his palms spanned her thighs, and then he was kneeling again, his face one more buried against her folds. Liquid heat melted her insides as his tongue prodded and tempted the sensitive parts, playing coy with the nub of pleasure that sent lightning bolts ricocheting through her limbs.
Kenna’s fingers curled around the coverlet, her legs falling open farther to allow him as much access as he wanted. This was pure pleasure, wicked and delicious. And she wasn’t about to stop him in his ministrations, not when her body was searching, reaching for something. Her heart pounded, and she bit her lip between cries and gasps of rapture. Just when she thought she couldn’t take the exquisite torture a moment longer, an explosion took her. Soaring her to the heights of euphoria and back again. Her entire body shook with the force of it, and she let go of the coverlet to run her fingers through his hair.
“That’s it, love,” he crooned against her pulsing flesh.
“What...what was that?” She leaned up on her elbows to gaze at him through her cloud of pleasure.
Sorley looked mighty pleased with himself, a satisfied grin on his face. “That was your release, sweetling.”
“What a release it was. Does it happen every time? Can ye do it again?” She grinned mischievously.
“Och, I plan to do it over and over for the rest of our days.”
“Thank heavens.” She giggled. “That was something I could never go without again.”
Sorley chuckled as he climbed up onto the bed, his body hovering over her. Between her thighs, the hardness of his arousal pressed to the wetted curls of her sex. “And I only want your happiness.” He winked and kissed her thoroughly, bringing her body to trembling anticipation once more.
Settled between her thighs, he took his shaft in hand and glided it along her curls, over and over until she was practically begging for more. Oh, the torment her wicked rebel put her through. At last, he pushed at the entrance of her womanhood, inching slowly in. The stretch stung a little, and she wished for him to get it over with.
“Please,” she said hoarsely. “Just do it.”
“I dinna want to hurt ye.”
“I can take it, Sorley. And if not, there is always my dagger.”
He chuckled and kissed her, moving his lips to her neck and then her mouth. As his tongue demanded a duel with her own, he surged forward through her maidenhead in a swift thrust.
Kenna stiffened around him, kissed him more fiercely, hoping that doing so would alleviate the pain of his entry.
And it did. Within a few moments, she no longer felt the pain, and budding frissons of pleasure returned, building as Sorley withdrew and drove back in.
“Ye feel so good,” he murmured against her ear, teasing her skin there with his tongue.
“So do ye.” Kenna lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around him, her arms around his shoulders, her fingers finding anchor.
It was glorious in his arms. Delicious, uninhibited bliss. They rocked together, with him whispering words of encouragement. He kissed her neck, her breasts. He gripped her hips, her arse. Stroked her legs, and all the while, he took primal command of the very heat of her.
This was not the way of it for most lassies she knew, having heard plenty of maids talk. But she still remembered one lass who’d very loudly declared that if a man knows what he’s doing, if he cares more for her enjoyment than his own, then she would be happy every time. And that was what this felt like. Sorley cared more about her enjoyment. Wanted her to be satisfied. To revel in the sensations that he gave her, stroke for heavenly stroke.
At the root of it, that was love, wasn’t it? To want more for your lover than yourself.
Kenna smiled against his shoulder, kissing his skin and falling deeper into the tumult of desire, pleasure and love. When rapture took her once more, she rode it out with a cry of Sorley’s name on her lips, and she was not ashamed if all the world heard her.
Her husband answered her cry of rapture with one of his own. Sorley collapsed beside her, tugging her close. With her skin still tingling, his breath fanning the top of her head, she traversed the dips and ridges of his chest.
“Now, I understand the torment ye had of us lying together at the camp. Knowing what I know now, I couldna bear to touch ye without being able to experience pleasure.”
Sorley chuckled. “It is no’ like that with everyone, lass.”
“True, it is ye I want. Ye I love.” She pressed a kiss over his heart.
“Aye. I think I’ve loved ye from the moment ye stood rigid on those stairs.”
“And I ye from the moment ye chased me down.” She laughed. “Oh, how ye’ve made me the happiest woman in the world.”
Sorley brushed an errant lock from her face, his eyes earnest as he locked his gaze on her. “And ye have made me the happiest of men.”
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!
Want more rebel Jacobites? Check out these books:
Prince Charlie’s Rebels
The Highlander Who Stole Christmas
Pretty in Plaid
Prince Charlie’s Angels
The Rebel Wears Plaid
Truly Madly Plaid
You’ve Got Plaid
If you enjoyed PRETTY IN PLAID, please spread the word by leaving a review on the site where you purchased your copy, or a reader site such as Goodreads! I love to hear from readers! Visit me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elizaknightfiction. I’m also on Instagram @ElizaKnightFiction and Twitter: @ElizaKnight Many thanks!
Stay tuned for Summer 2021 and Eliza’s brand new Scottish Regency series — SCOTS OF HONOR!
Highland war heroes rebuilding their lives grapple with ladies forging their own paths—who will win?
R
egency Scotland comes alive in the vibrant and sexy new SCOTS OF HONOR series by USA Today bestselling author Eliza Knight. Scottish military heroes, who want nothing more than to lay low after the ravages of war in 19th century France, find their Highland homecomings vastly contradict their simple desires. Especially when they meet the feisty lasses who are tenacious enough to take them on, and show them just what they’ve been missing out of life. In battle they can’t be beaten, but in love, they all find the ultimate surrender.
Return of the Scot
The Scot is Hers
Taming the Scot
Want to read more Scottish romance novels by Eliza? Check out her Stolen Bride Series!
The Highlander’s Temptation
The Highlander’s Reward
The Highlander’s Conquest
The Highlander’s Lady
The Highlander’s Warrior Bride
The Highlander’s Triumph
The Highlander’s Sin
Wild Highland Mistletoe (a Stolen Bride winter novella)
The Highlander’s Charm (a Stolen Bride novella)
A Kilted Christmas Wish – a contemporary Holiday spin-off
The Highlander’s Surrender
The Highlander’s Dare
About the Author
Eliza Knight is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling author of over fifty sizzling historical romance and erotic romance. Under the name E. Knight, she pens rip-your-heart-out historical fiction. While not reading, writing or researching for her latest book, she chases after her three children. In her spare time (if there is such a thing…) she likes daydreaming, wine-tasting, traveling, hiking, staring at the stars, watching movies, shopping and visiting with family and friends. She lives atop a small mountain with her own knight in shining armor, three princesses and two very naughty puppies. Visit Eliza at http://www.elizaknight.com or her historical blog History Undressed: www.historyundressed.com. Sign up for her newsletter to get news about books, events, contests and sneak peaks! http://eepurl.com/CSFFD
