by Mary Wine
“Gift?” Her breath caught as he moved his hand to her bare throat. She felt so vulnerable, the column of her neck fragile compared to the strength she knew he had in his hand.
“Aye. The mirror is a present from me. A good friend of mine brought it back from his recent voyage to France.”
“That was very…very kind.”
He leaned down and she watched, fascinated, as he kissed her neck. Seeing it was incredibly arousing. She could see his lips compressing against the smooth surface of her throat. At that same moment, her skin rippled with the warm sensation of his kiss.
“I can think of a few things to do with it myself.”
His hand cupped her jaw, lifting it. With a twist of his fingers he opened the first button and then the second. A tiny gasp crossed her lips as he set his fingers between the open edges of the garment to touch her bare skin.
“Things I nae considered a mirror being useful for, as a matter of fact. It may have been well worth the gold I traded for it.”
The next button separated and several more. She followed his fingers devotedly, excitement rising inside her with each little pop. He used both hands to spread the edges open. The mirror reflected her stays and the swells of her breasts.
“Now that’s something verra pretty to gaze at.”
He pulled her doublet over her shoulders and down her arms. There was a brief moment when he stepped back from her to free the garment from her wrists. She shivered at the loss of contact, sighing when he returned to press up against her from head to toe. Her attention was drawn to the differences between their genders. His wider shoulders that appeared on either side of her own. His face was harder, his jaw more firm with less curves than her own. Her eyes were framed by longer lashes that looked somewhat coquettish.
“We do make an interesting view. I like it much better now that yer sweet skin is in sight.”
“This must be wrong.”
His fingers trailed up the center of her stays and she stared at them intently.
“Why is that?”
His voice had deepened to that tone he used when he was becoming aroused. Her gaze dipped to the kilt shielding his cock from her sight. Was he growing stiff behind the wool?
Her face flooded with heat, her eyelashes fluttering. His eyes glittered as they noticed the telltale movement. With a shaky breath, she tried to leave. His arms tightened to keep her in place. His head tilted and she watched him open his lips. He closed them gently around the lobe of her ear, sucking it into his mouth.
“Brodick…”
“Aye, Wife?” He locked stares with her in the reflection. “What is wrong with enjoying yer gift? I bought it to give ye pleasure. Do ye deny that ye’re quivering with enjoyment?”
Her lips rounded with a little sound of confusion, all other words failing her. He chuckled near her ear, his chest shaking against her back. It was decadent. All of the sensations and sights combining into a mixture that intoxicated her senses. His fingers reached the tie holding the front of her stays closed. With a quick jerk he pulled it loose. Hooking the first crossing of laces with a crooked finger, he tugged the lace out of the eyelets. Her breasts felt heavier, almost swollen. He hooked the next crossing of laces and then the next. The stays lost their supporting hold on her, the stiff garment falling open now that it wasn’t held in place by the strong cord.
“I think there is something very right about this moment.”
He pulled her corset free, dropping it carelessly onto the floor. Her chemise was thin, made of fine cotton, the darkness of her nipples showing through it. Another gasp left her lips. This time Brodick echoed the sound with a swift intake of his own breath. His hands hovered over her breasts, only two fingertips pressing against her chemise to stroke her nipples. A deep shudder sent gooseflesh down her arms. She could actually see the tiny bumps decorating her forearms. Behind the fabric, her nipples drew taut, the hard tips visible in the mirror.
“Now there’s a sight I’m sure I dinnae want to miss. Yer nipples are very pretty.”
Were they? She didn’t know. Moving her gaze to his face, she witnessed the hard hunger drawing his features tight. Her waistband popped open, making her jump.
“I could get used to maiding ye with my own hands.”
“Wait.” Her skirts puddled around her ankles and shins before she spoke. The small padded roll around her hips didn’t last very long either. Brodick had untied it without hesitation. “We already…um…”
“Fucked? I remember it very well.” Amusement coated his voice.
“Why are you toying with me?”
Her chemise billowed now, falling around her body loosely. The flicker of the candle flame illuminated the curves of her body, causing her to look like some pagan offering. Heat moved through her passage, slow and deep. It wasn’t the white-hot flash of need that had assaulted her in the stable; this time it was centered in her womb.
“Who told you that a man and woman could only share intimacies once a night?” He set his hands on her hips, trapping her chemise there. The action drew the fabric tight across her breasts, showing off her hard nipples.
“Now I want to seduce ye.”
His hands smoothed over her hips, moving down her thighs to the edge of the undergarment. When his hands slid onto her bare skin, sensation ripped into her. He curled his fingers into talons, pressing each fingertip into her legs and raking his hands back up her thighs. The chemise rose and she stared in fascination as her thighs became visible. Higher, and the soft hair on her sex was revealed. Breathing became difficult as her belly was exposed. Her own hands gripped his kilt while he drew his fingertip along the sides of her breasts.
She lost the vision in the mirror as he drew the fabric over her head. Her eyelids fluttered, a soft moan crossing her lips when she gazed into the mirror again. The flickering flame illuminated her bare body. Her breasts were small, round globes that hung like tear drops, slightly fuller towards the bottom. Each one was set with a small pink nipple, the tips hard buttons.
“You’re a vision, lass. Like a siren from the Greek voyages. I’d follow ye to the rocks.”
“You shouldn’t say such things.”
He didn’t return his hands to her. He reached up to untie his sword. The dark handle was still visible above his right shoulder. The wide leather strap that held the scabbard along his back was shiny in the candlelight. He untied it with a quick, practiced motion. He set the sword down, leaning it against the wall directly next to the table. His kilt brushed against the back of her thighs when he moved back next to her.
“And ye, sweet wife, shouldnae be so quick to place borders around our union. Our marriage is a tool for sweeping aside outdated ideas.”
His hand hovered over his belt buckle. Her gaze centered on the reflection, her breath stilling in her throat.
“Since it excites ye and me, what is wrong with enjoying our mirror?”
“I don’t know.”
And she didn’t care. His fingers turned slightly white as he gripped the end of the leather belt. With a jerk he pulled it back enough to allow the twin prongs to spring free of the holes in the thick leather. Her gaze became fixated on his kilt. She wanted to know if his cock was hard.
Could the idea of lying with her actually raise him a second time in as many hours?
A wicked idea for certain, but heat flowed into her passage, awakening her clitoris. His grip released and the belt fell. She felt the slither of the fabric dropping along her bare legs until her stockings interrupted. His shirt didn’t allow her to see his cock.
A soft chuckle shook her back. “Dinnae look so disappointed, lass. Patience is a virtue.”
She scoffed at him. “Your teasing is misplaced.”
“Och now, is it?”
She pursed her lips and shrugged. “I could be as cold as a newly netted fish. Unresponsive and very uninterested in seeing anything you might have behind your kilt.” Reaching back, she pressed his shirt tail against his crotch. The fab
ric folded around the erect form of his sex, her hands gently fingering it for only a moment. His cheek jerked as his eyes narrowed, the mirror showing her his response clearly.
“Just think, my lord. I might lie upon your bed squeezing my eyes shut as stiff as an effigy.”
Anne turned, retaining her grip on his cock. Watching had lost its appeal. Need was whirling around deep inside her belly. She wanted to touch and be touched. But she was also feeling bold, as though she needed to be as confident with the subject of intimacy as he was. She wanted to tease him with the same ease that he toyed with her, not shiver like an ignorant virgin.
“Ye certainly tried to avoid me well enough.” A hint of frustration laced his tone. Working her fingers over his cock again, Anne shrugged.
“Really? You believe so?”
He grunted. “I have a good memory.”
Anne walked past him, careful to step over of her skirts. She felt his eyes on her bare bottom, her clitoris begging for a stroke from his fingers. The side bed curtains were drawn, the interior of the bed glowing red from the coals in the fireplace. Casting a look over her shoulder, she placed a knee on the bed.
“Be careful what you suggest. I might decide to repent my lustful infatuation.”
The bed ropes groaned when she crawled up onto the ticking.
“I’d have to take ye in hand and warm you up…again.”
He was following her, slowly stalking. He paused near a stool, propping one foot onto it. With a pull and tug, his boot dropped to the floor. The head of his cock pushed against the creamy shirt tail when he moved. A smug look decorated his face because he watched her looking at his crotch. Anne didn’t lower her eyes. She stared straight into his gaze, refusing to consider whether it was right to look at his sex.
Watching in the mirror had been very pleasing and she wasn’t a liar.
His second boot hit the floor. “Lie back.”
“All the way?”
“Aye.”
She scooted back while he gripped the hem of his shirt and drew it over his head. There was no teasing about it. Brodick threw his remaining garment across the room. With him completely bare, she lost a great deal of her bravado. He was magnificent, his body honed into tight ridges of muscle. On an animal she would have been impressed; in this man she quivered because his strength would soon be working between her thighs. The idea was as intoxicating as the reflection had been.
“Now spread yer legs.”
Her thighs pressed tight instead.
“Do it.” Command colored his words. His eyes narrowing with expectation. “Part yer thighs. I want to see if yer slit is glistening with sweet dew.”
It was…
The folds of her slit were already slick. Her attention moved to his cock, the staff thick and engorged.
“Unless ye be too timid.”
She forced her hesitating knees to part. He didn’t chuckle, didn’t mock her for the slightly nervous way she complied, spreading her legs so that he could see her sex.
“Wider. Much wider.”
A ripple of excitement went through her. The folds protecting the opening to her body separated, exposing her completely.
“Now lie back and close yer eyes. No peeking. Wait for me to touch ye.”
His voice was rough. It suited the sharply defined muscles running over his limbs and body. Everything about him felt and looked hard.
And she was soft.
Her body fashioned to be opposite to his. The bed ropes creaked once more as she lay back. Closing her eyes raised a soft moan from her chest. Every inch of her skin suddenly became more aware. She could hear her own heart beating faster, feel her blood accelerating. Goosebumps rose along her arms and down her torso. The tiny bumps covered the mounds of her breasts. Through her eyelids she detected only the flicker of the dancing candle flame.
A moment later it died.
Her heart increased its pace yet again. The folds of her sex turning hot as blood rushed through the delicate tissues. Without her sight, time moved slowly as she waited for a tiny sound to tell her where Brodick was. The bed was still, her ears failing to hear anything.
That left her waiting.
Anticipation was a torment. Her clitoris throbbed with demand. Her passage begged to be filled. A single stroke down the center of her slit drew a cry from her lips.
A hard hand pressed her back down.
“Interesting, isn’t it? The way the flesh heightens its awareness when ye don’t have yer sight.”
“Indeed.” The single word was an effort to force past her lips. Her breathing was uneven, most of her attention needed to keep her eyes closed. She was rapidly losing the ability to conquer her impulses. Signals raced from her skin to her spine and up into her brain so quickly she couldn’t make sense of it all. Couldn’t understand what she wanted anymore. Part of her wanted to open her eyes to restore her balance. A hard shudder shook her, the spasm pressing another sound past her lips and this one sounded more like a wail.
“Enough, lass.”
The bed rocked as she was caught up against his body. Hard arms drew her into his embrace, his skin caressing hers. It was sweet balm to her quivering flesh. Reaching for him, she held tight as he rolled her beneath his large body.
“Enough play for tonight. I just want to rock ye to sleep.”
Her thighs clasped his hips and he cupped the back of her head. His lips sought hers, teasing them with a warm kiss. It was a slow meshing of their mouths, his tongue soothing the dry surface of her lips. His cock pressed against the opening to her body, sliding smoothly into her sheath. There was no protest from her body this time, his cock lodging deep with the first penetration. His tongue delved deep at the same time, filling her mouth.
He moved between her thighs, rocking her with a gentle rhythm. His cock departing and returning slowly. Each breath drew his scent into her senses. Every downward motion pressed his chest against her breasts. The soft globes gave way to his harder torso. Pleasure streamed along her body, first from where he rode her and then back to tighten around his hard flesh. She was keenly aware of the entire length of his cock. It slid against her clitoris, pressing down on the sensitive nub until the head knocked against the mouth of her womb.
She broke their kiss, gasping for breath. Her body was twisting tighter and tighter again. It was far too much to hold inside. Her lips remained open as she panted and wailed. It was a thin sound she didn’t recognize. Pleasure washed over her and she willingly went with the current.
“Aye, lass. That’s the way of it.”
The speed of his thrusting increased, his hips working harder. His embrace tightened as she heard his breathing turn harsh.
“Look at me.”
Her eyelids felt too heavy to move.
“Open your eyes.”
His words were hard. Her eyelashes fluttered to obey. Hard hunger met her stare. It was far more primal than she’d ever seen on a human. His eyes glittered with determination as he thrust harder against her spread body.
“Dinnae ever leave me. I’ll come for ye. Ye have my word on it.”
He gritted his teeth as she felt his seed spurt deep inside her passage. A harsh growl made it past his teeth as he pressed against her to empty all of his offering into her. His shoulders quivered a moment and he drew in several long breaths.
“Ye’re mine.”
He rolled over onto his back, clasping her against his chest. His words echoing inside her head, both endearing and frightening. He stroked her back with a warm hand as she felt his body shudder softly. It was almost too slight to feel, just a mere whisper of vulnerability in his hard body.
Yet she felt it.
Laying a hand on his chest, she threaded her fingers into the crisp hair. Somewhere inside his honed exterior was the same doubt that plagued her. It was an unspoken thing, but one that gave her peace. With a sigh, she allowed sleep to lead her away. Back to that place where she’d slept last night, where her lover cradled her against his wa
rm body, his heartbeat filling her head.
It was perfection on earth.
The bells on the walls shattered their bliss.
It was soft at first, only invading her slumber like a memory. But more bells rang, bringing the volume up. The chest her head was pillowed on jerked and sat up.
The chamber was much darker now, the candles extinguished. Yet the ringing of the bells was loud.
“What is it?”
“Trouble.”
There was a soft growl in his voice. He left the bed, grabbing a boot first. His hands made quick work of lacing it closed and he pushed the second one onto his foot.
The clanging of the brass bells drove every bit of sleep from her mind. Whatever befell the castle, she would share it. In the eyes of Brodick’s enemies, she was his wife and a possible target to extract vengeance from. Crawling over the heavy coverlet, she stood up, trying to find their clothing in the dim light. His shirt was a soft hump on the floor. Picking it up, she shook it and turned it right side out. She turned and took it toward him, her heart moving faster as the bells continued to ring.
Brodick looked surprised. He was already pleating his kilt across the foot of the bed, his wide leather belt in place. Stretching up, she placed the shirt over his head. She didn’t worry about her own nudity; getting the men to the walls was the first priority. He lifted his arms and put them through the sleeves of the garment. Her fingers were already closing the button at the collar.
“Thank ye, lass.” He sounded surprised but pleasantly so. A soft ripple of emotion went through her as she witnessed the way he watched her maid him.
The bells droned on, instilling urgency in her. There was no time to dwell on the intimacy of the moment. He lay down across his pleated kilt to secure the buckle. When he rose, Anne offered him his sword. The weight of the weapon made her hands tremble. Too many wives performed their last duty to their spouses by handing them their swords. She might be sending him to his death. There was no way to know what set the bells to ringing.
It was a sure thing that it was not good news in the dead of the night.
But she held her worries inside. That, too, was a wife’s duty. Brodick clasped the sword in one large hand.
