by Fiona Faris
“Com’ insahde whar’ it’s warm,” she told Georgiana. “Sech a beautiful gel, mustn’t freez’ to deaf.”
After Mrs. Herriot had ensured that Georgiana wasn’t frozen, she was shown to her bedchamber to change before supper. It was a beautiful room, with moss green tapestry, a large fireplace and a painting of a landscape that reminded her of the pictures she had seen of the Highlands on the wall. Of course, this was not her own chamber. It was theirs – hers and Ethan’s. The big four-poster bed in the middle served as a sharp reminder of what would happen in just a few hours. Georgiana suddenly felt very lonely and afraid.
Her maid helped her change for dinner and then combed her hair and tied it in a knot. Ethan came in halfway through the procedure and blushed fiercely to see her with her hair cascading down her back. Georgiana blushed, looking down at her folded hands. She wondered how they would manage when they were alone.
Georgiana tried to tamp down the rising panic within her. She already felt as if she was messing everything up, and wished she had listened when her mother had wanted to tell her about the wedding night. But she had been too embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and glanced up at Ethan.
Ethan’s fond smile faltered. A worried look appeared on his face, and he stepped forward, tipping Georgiana’s face towards him with a finger.
“Oh no, please, I…dinna mean tae- I am sorry, Georgiana. I shouldna have barged in here when ye were not ready. I shall go now.”
Georgiana was startled to reply.
“I’m so sorry,” Ethan added.
Ethan looked down at Georgiana with warm eyes and a big smile. Georgiana swallowed. The room seemed very warm all of a sudden. Misty had disappeared. Ethan’s hands were steady on Georgiana’s shoulders, and one thumb was absently stroking the fine silk of her dinner gown.
“I hope I will be good enough for ye,” Ethan mumbled.
Supper was a boisterous affair with Ethan, Mr. and Mrs. Herriot, as well as Misty and Fergus. Georgiana was hungry, but she had been up since before sunrise to prepare for the wedding, and so she was quite exhausted and dreading the night ahead. She sat in silence and tried to smile at everybody at the table.
There was an abundance of wine and heavy food, and Mr. Herriot, who spoke understandable English, sat opposite Ethan and Georgiana and made jokes all night.
“Why you married Lord Buchanan, beautiful Lady Georgiana, is beyond me,” he said to the laughter of their companions. “Why, she could have married me….a good English man, not a Scotsman with too-red hair.”
Georgiana looked at Ethan, who smoothed his hair down self-consciously even as he grinned.
“Ethan’s hair is more ginger,” Georgiana said quietly. “And he is a fine-looking man.” Then she flushed violently, hardly believing she had spoken so boldly. And in company too!
But Ethan just beamed down at her, tightening his arm around her shoulders. “Ye see Mr. Herriot?” he crowed triumphantly. “I marrit the most discerning woman in the whole world.”
After supper, there was brandy and cakes in front of the large fireplace in the salon. The warmth of the fire in combination with a full stomach and the liquor made Georgiana drowsy. She snuggled more and more into Ethan’s side, almost nodding off until Ethan’s rumbling laugh jolted her awake.
“It’s been a long day,” Ethan mumbled quietly. “Maybe we should go to bed, aye?”
Georgiana felt her face heat up. “Uh, yes. We should go to bed.”
Chapter Eight
Ethan laughed and stood up, pulling Georgiana with him. They said their goodnights and the Herriots smiled warmly as they left the room.
Georgiana’s heart was beating fast when they entered their bedchamber and Ethan closed the oak doors behind them. The calm that washed over her during supper disappeared, to be replaced by panic and a vague sense of dread in her heart. She knew what she must expect. Misty had whispered something about it being painful. Her mother said that her husband would guide her on what to do. She knew what must come and why she was there to serve her husband and satisfy his every need. She thought about the vial of oil somewhere in her portmanteau. She didn’t know how or where she was to apply it. Misty had advised her to use it before laying down for her husband.
Ethan didn’t seem to notice the panic in Georgiana’s head. Instead he stepped to the windows to close the heavy curtains.
“Georgiana,” he called in a hushed tone. “Look, it’s snowing heavily now.”
Georgiana slowly walked over to the window. The snow was indeed falling steadily. An orange gaslight illuminated the cobblestones below and gave everything an ethereal glow.
“It’s beautiful,” Georgiana whispered.
“So beautiful,” Ethan whispered before he leaned in to kiss Georgiana on the lips.
Georgiana had never kissed anyone voluntarily. She could hardly count the viscount and had not expected it to be so soft and warm. Ethan’s arms came around her back, holding her like she was something precious. Before Georgiana could stop herself, she tentatively wrapped her own arms around her husband’s neck, and Ethan made a soft, helpless noise, and then opened his mouth and traced the cusp of his wife’s lips with his tongue. Georgiana opened her own mouth without even realizing it, allowing Ethan’s tongue to nudge hers as if it were a puppy, beckoning another one to play. Georgiana let her tongue copy his movement and Ethan moaned.
She didn’t know how long they stood by the window and traded breathless kisses. They broke apart when a chilled shudder went through her body, and Ethan rubbed his warm hand along her arms.
“Ah’m the worst husband,” he said. “Making you stand beside a cold window until you freeze to death.”
“No, I- I like this,” Georgiana looked down at her feet and blushed.
Stupid!
How could she say such wanton things? Ethan must think the worst of her. Again, Ethan used his index finger to tilt Georgiana’s chin towards him.
“Georgiana, dinna be ashamed because ye say what ye like. I’m yer husband. I want to ken. Always.”
The girl swallowed and nodded, tears suddenly pricking her eyes as Ethan kissed her forehead.
“It’s been a long day,” he murmured. “I think we should go and sleep now. Come on.”
If Ethan had set out to startle her, he could not have done a better job. She stumbled after him as he pulled her to the bed, stood meekly as he figured out how to unlace her gown – having sent Misty to bed already – and pushed it down to her feet. Her bodice was next, and then she was standing in front of her husband in her shift. Her whole body felt hot with embarrassment, but he simply took her hand and led her to the bed, tucking her in before beginning the process of undressing himself. She watched from beneath her lashes as he unlaced his flies and then pushed down his breeches. His shirt hung low, hiding him from her sight and she wanted to close her eyes before he took it off.
To her surprise, he climbed into bed with his shirt still on. Sliding beneath the blankets, he gathered her to him and lay down, closing his eyes. Georgiana lay tense in his arms until a soft snore alerted her to the fact that her husband was asleep. Then she relaxed.
Why does he not want me? She didn’t know if she was sad or disappointed. All she knew was that she had spent the whole evening on edge – her body riddled with anxiety and fear…and now it had nowhere to go. It dissipated, leaving her feeling emptier than ever.
Finally, exhaustion overtook her, and before she knew it, she was asleep.
* * *
She awoke with a start in the morning to find Ethan’s hot mouth on her nipple, suckling gently. She made a sound somewhere between surprise and desire.
“W-what…?”
His lips let go of her nipple and he looked up into her eyes. “D’ye mind?” he whispered.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. “I…”
His head lowered, ginger hair falling onto her bosom and tickling her skin as his hot mouth closed around her ni
pple again. She did not know which sensation to focus on and lay back, panting. He didn’t touch her anywhere else, simply continued to suckle, making small sounds as he did so. Her other nipple began to tingle, wanting the same attention.
Georgiana didn’t know how to ask for it.
“Uhhhh…” she said.
Ethan lifted his head. “What d’ye want?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.
“The other side?” Georgiana whispered.
Ethan smiled and moved to her other nipple, suckling at its cotton covered tip. The extra layer between his mouth and her nipple made her feel as if she might be losing her mind. She arched her back, moaned, and moved her hands unable to settle on where she should put them.
His mouth left her breast, his warm breath brushing on her skin as he whispered, “Touch me.”
Before she could protest, his mouth was back, softly licking and sucking on her nipple. She reached up tentatively and settled her hands on his arms. Then curiosity got the best of her, and she moved them slowly to his back, trailing lower and lower until she was hovering on the dip above his buttocks.
There was a tight band in her chest, and her breathing came faster and harder. Her legs opened of their own volition, and she whimpered, squirming, feeling as if there was something she needed. She didn’t know what it was, but she did know that Ethan could give it to her.
“Please,” she mumbled, her hands coming up to tug on his hair.
His body moved, to cover hers, his hands snaking down to cup her cheeks. He squeezed hard, and she squeaked, jerking upward. Her torso and pelvis came in contact with his arousal, and he groaned, low and deep.
She moved from side to side, trying to make her shift move upward, out of the way.
“Ye want to get undressed?” he whispered into her bosom.
“Y-yes.”
Getting down on his hands and knees, he took hold of her shift, pulling it off with one fell swoop. Then he did the same with his shirt. Her eyes raked his physique, from his strong, broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist and rock hard belly. Just beneath his belly, bathed in a circle of ginger hair, his manhood stood erect, long and broad. She stared down at it, as her legs spread wider.
“I want to touch ye everywhere, lass. Will ye let me?”
“Ye-yes, please.”
His hands immediately landed on her shoulders, squeezing, kneading before moving to trace her collarbone. He leaned down and put his lips to hers, tasting her before his tongue flicked out and ran along the roof of her mouth. He landed soft tiny pecks against her lips before shimmying downward to bite against her neck.
“Aahhh,” her voice shook, eyes shut tight as she strained against him, wanting more of everything he had.
His hands were at her sides, sliding lower until they encircled her waist, pushing her upward and flush against him. His lips came back to hers, kissing her hard as his body ground down into hers. She opened her mouth wide, letting him in, her hands snaking around his neck to pull him closer as her legs crossed across his waist. His manhood poked against her torso, spreading wetness on the tiny hairs of her abdomen and down to her center.
“I want ye sae much, Georgiana. May I?” he whispered into her ear before nipping at it with his teeth.
“Oooh,” she gasped, unable to form coherent words, and nodded frantically instead.
He stuck his tongue in her ear whilst seeking her entrance with his fingers.
His fingers slid into her, questing, caressing, finding the sensitive nub that when pressed down, caused her to cry out and arch upward with desire.
“Ethan, please, now,” she groaned.
He withdrew his fingers and then grasped his manhood, guiding it to where his hand had just left. She tensed at first, feeling the size of him against her.
“I think it’ll be easier if ye relax,” he whispered, thrusting softly so that he could spread her open gently.
She murmured with satisfaction, surging upward to help him penetrate her faster. They both gasped as he pushed his length inside her.
“Yer so hot. I canna even…” he shut his eyes tight, going rigid in an effort not shoot his load prematurely.
She waited to see what he would do next, feeling the daunting immediacy of his giant member embedded inside her. It was very different than anything she could have imagined.
“Are ye alright?” he asked, his voice strained.
She felt her heart melt that he would bother to ask her such a thing at this time. “Yes, I think so…what now?”
Ethan moved out of her until just the tip of his cock was inside her before thrusting back in. She gasped, as did he.
“Guid?” he asked.
She nodded frantically, lips pressed together.
Ethan did it again.
They made twin sounds of desire, and Ethan began to increase his pace, his grunting growing louder and more breathless. Georgiana put her hands on his buttocks and egged him on by pressing him deep within her.
Oh my…is this how it always feels? She wondered as she spread her legs wider, arching her back to encourage deeper thrusting from him. She felt as if he was a flint, and she a steel, and every time they connected, a spark grew, hotter and hotter. Eventually, it would explode, and she did not know what she would do when that happened.
Ethan’s thrusts became faster and more erratic. In addition to his manhood, he wiggled his fingers into her wetness, tickling her before slightly pressing on her sensitive nub, which gave her a totally different sensation. She gasped, throwing her head back as he thrust and caressed her.
The fire was hotter than ever, and she began to see spots in front of her eyes. Her fingers were numb as she clutched at the sheets beneath her. His thrusts became stronger, deeper, and faster as he grunted with the effort.
“Ethan,” she whispered before the world exploded into rainbow shards before her very eyes. She blinked a few times as her body rode the peak of her emotions, before collapsing, boneless on the bed as Ethan threw his head back and emptied himself into her.
They lay, spent, and speechless beside each other before a tentative knock on the door interrupted them. “Lady? Gentleman? I have breakfast on a tray for you. Shall I leave it here?”
Mrs. Herriot was easier to understand this morning, and Georgiana wondered just how tired she’d been last night.
Ethan sat up slowly. “Aye, thank ye, ma’am.”
There was a thud as a tray landed on the ground, and Ethan slipped out of bed and ran naked to the door, opened it slightly, and snapped up the tray.
He brought it over to the bed, grinning widely, and put it across her knees. Picking up the pitcher of ale, he placed it carefully on the table. “Do ye like ale for yer breakfast? I saw that ye drank tea or coffee at yer hame.”
Georgiana smiled. “You noticed.”
“Aye o’ course. Shall I send for some tea?”
“I feel sure they’ll serve us some later. Let us eat what they’ve sent for now.”
He climbed onto the bed and picked up a slice of apple, aiming it at Georgiana’s mouth. She opened up for him with a laugh and let him feed her. As soon as he took his hand away, she picked up her own piece of fruit and fed it to him.
“What do you eat for breakfast in Scotland?” she asked.
“We like porridge. Bannocks too.”
“So a breakfast of kippers and ale must be an anathema to you.”
Ethan shrugged. “Food is food. I dinna mind.” He punctuated his point by putting a piece of the fish in his mouth and chewing.
She watched his throat as he swallowed. “Would you like some ale?”
“Aye.”
She reached out and passed him the tankard. He took a sip, nodded, and took a bigger sip. “Tis well made.”
“Oh? You like it?”
“I do.” Ethan nodded, taking another sip.
They finished their breakfast, Georgiana asking him about his home. They avoided any heavy topics, instead keeping to light subjects such as wh
at games Georgiana liked to play as a child compared to Ethan, their favorite foods, and the upcoming journey to the South of France.
“I have an uncle that lives in Dijon. He’s a transporter of wine.”
“Perhaps we shall go and see him.”
Ethan shrugged. “Perhaps. I dinna ken him that well. And he might feel obligated to write to my faither if we did.”
