Gently.
She squealed.
Men hooted from below.
"Nay. 'Tis but a minor feel!" Graemme called down to them. "She will bring down the walls when she reaches her peak!"
By the time they arrived at the top and turned toward her bedchamber, his patience was at an end. He kicked the door open, slammed it shut with the heel of his boot and stalked over to the bed. Reaching up and grabbing her by the hips, he bent forward and dumped her on the bed.
Rose petals flew in the air as Elyne sank in the down mattress. The bed rocked when he fell on top of her, holding her down while she ranted and raved. He needed to grasp her wrists above her head to keep her from scratching his face.
Never had he seen such a temper in a woman. Why, she had more rage stored in her mind than a whole keep full of women.
"Ye foul-mannered cur!"
"Call me dear husband and I might let ye up."
"Ye maggoty horse's turd! Get yer body off me."
"Ah, ah! How about loving spouse, my dear sweet-tempered bride."
She bucked under him and near had the strength to throw him off. He did what any sane husband would do.
He started kissing her. Every time she opened her mouth to speak, his warm lips clamped on hers. He finally felt her softening beneath him. He slanted his mouth, molding and kissing her lips, nibbling and tugging at them.
Her clamped teeth denied him entrance.
His lips slid along her cheek to her ear, where he nibbled and kissed around it and finally whispered, "Please."
She ignored him.
He reached between them and pushed her skirts close to her body so his knees wouldn't rip the lovely fabric. Being careful, he moved one leg at the time to straddle her then lifted onto his knees. He wriggled his hips and settled lightly down on her.
Her eyes spat fire at him. He ignored it, for his right leg gave a slight twinge, reminding him of the healing bite marks and the bruise covering most of his thigh.
His kilt settled around his thighs. Her heat came through her soft clothing onto his bare flesh, making his cock even more eager. He looked down and wondered if it peeked between his kilt and her soft linen kirtle?
Elyne surged up with her hips. He almost missed seeing her hands flash up to push him off, but he gripped her wrist before she could unseat him.
"Tsk! Ye would shove yer husband to the floor on his wedding night? What would Father Matthew say if it cracked my skull like a goose's egg?"
"A rotten egg, ye mean?"
She struggled and twisted her arms and, though strong for a woman, she was no match for him.
Graemme stared down at his lovely bride. Finally, she stopped struggling. He reached to smooth her hair back from her face.
"'Tis beautiful," he said as he removed the circlet from her brow. He placed it beside him.
He lifted his right leg and moved to her side. When she would have sat up, he put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. He untied the silver chain from around her hips and spread it out on both sides. Tilting his head, he studied the dress.
He stood and held his hands out to help her to stand.
"Ye can scream yer hatred of me till the cock's crow at dawn, but it willna change a thing."
"I didna want a husband."
He studied her face and saw the conflict there. He tried to see things as she would. It would be hard for her to leave Raptor and her family behind. Especially Ranald. And Lady Joneta, who must have been like a mother to her. A memory flashed through his mind and gave him a start. 'Twas when he was but five years old. He had stood watching as his seven-year-old brother Magnus swore a blood oath with Feradoch while their fathers stood behind their sons.
When the oath was final, Graemme had cried out when Chief Olaf rode away, taking Magnus beside him. Until then, he'd not understood how being a foster brother worked. He didn't want Feradoch for a brother! He wanted Magnus to come galloping back to them. As the tears had run down his face, he remembered the disgusted sneer Feradoch had turned on him.
"Aye. I understand. But we are married now, for good or ill." His strong hands were firm as they turned her so her back was to him. "I will be yer maid for the night, wife."
"I can tend to myself," she said and tried to turn around.
"Up," he ordered with a light pressure on her elbows.
She surprised him by lifting her arms. He bent to take the hem of her kirtle and was careful when he lifted it over her head then draped it across the back of a chair. Her smock followed before she had time to think about it.
The loveliest back in all of Scotland peeked through the curly brown hair flowing down to her hips. He studied at leisure her lovely, ivory back peeking between the dark tresses. He noted she had folded her arms in front of her.
Why, his bride was shy on her wedding night. Strange, for 'twas not the first time they'd had bed sport.
He came close behind her, reached around to cup her full breasts and whispered against her velvety neck, "We may fight over everything else, but ye have to admit, we make passionate bed sport together."
As he kissed her shoulders, he watched his tanned fingers brush over her rosy nipples. When they jutted with interest, his calloused palms rubbed them afore retreating. He cupped her breasts and kneaded them, sighing, for they swelled in his hands.
"Ye are beautiful, wife. Never did I think any lass could be so lovely and so skillful at the same time."
"Skillful?"
Did she know she was thrusting her breasts into his hands, begging for more attention?
"Aye. Skillful. Someone who knew nothing about weapons couldna dislodge a mace the way ye did."
By Lucifer's crooked toes! The last thing he wanted was her thinking about the blood and gore of dead men. But since she hadn't jerked away, mayhap she wasna listening.
He redoubled his efforts. As he nipped and kissed his way down her neck below her right ear, he breathed in her fresh heather scent. She caught her breath and stretched her head back, offering more of her flesh to his kisses. He suckled the tender skin there and then lapped it with his tongue to soothe it.
All the while, his impatient cock pressed against her back, hot and throbbing. He wanted to rip his clothes off so they could be flesh to flesh, but he forced himself to wait.
"Come, sit on the bed so I may remove yer stockings and shoes," he whispered in her ear.
Her jaw tightened against his cheek afore he pulled back. She was still resisting him, but at least she wasn't swinging her fists! Leading her by the shoulders over to the bed, he removed the chain and circlet to the table so she could sit. He'd had ample practice removing a lass' clothing, but never had it seemed so slow!
When he pulled off her left stocking and held her foot in the palm of his hand, he stroked up and down her leg. He lifted her foot and nibbled the tips of her toes. It must have tickled, for her leg muscles jerked. After he'd treated her other foot in the same way, he stood.
"Stand." He held her hands and brought her closer to him. Reaching around her, he grasped the covers and jerked them back, leaving the bare sheet. He started to lift her in his arms, but she pulled back.
"I am nay a child. I can get into the bed by myself."
"If ye were a child, we wouldna be here."
He turned away. Not wanting any curious viewers, he went over and latched the door. If anyone tried to enter, he'd hear them afore they raised the latch.
Someone had lit a brace of candles in the room. Between them and the fireplace, it looked near daylight. He pinched them all out, thinking she would prefer the darkness. Most women he'd swived liked the light, but he sensed Elyne wasn't interested in watching his cock bob around like a curious puppy when he walked toward her.
He moved to the other side of the bed and made sure his sword was near to his hand, should he need it. Not like most men, he was methodical at undressing. He removed and folded each piece of clothing until he was as naked as she.
When he slid onto the b
ed, the bed ropes made the mattress rock and sway. He braced himself so he wouldn't roll atop her.
Elyne surprised him by her next question.
"Ye didna want to marry me, either, did ye?"
"Nay."
"Then why did ye return? Ranald would have protected me from Father's wrath."
"The night I first came here, ye were afraid of him. He wouldna have scarred ye like he did Ranald, for the value of a female is marrying for gain. But he was angry enough to pick the oldest, meanest and vilest of men for yer groom." He shook his head in disgust. "He'd keep it a secret from Ranald until the deed was done. Oh, aye, he would have regretted it after ye were gone, but he didna think far ahead."
"Oh."
He almost didn't hear her, she spoke so low.
"And, I vowed I'd return. I couldna shame ye by breaking it."
Elyne stilled. What thoughts had caused such sadness to flash over Graemme's face? To look so lost? She stilled, and watched as he composed his features. Was he as unhappy about marrying as she was? No doubt, he had thought his love, Elspeth, would one day be his bride. Instead, he was married to a woman who angered him at every turn.
At least the fire had gone from his eyes. But the coldness wasn't such a good thing, after all. She'd rather have him angry at her than to show no emotion at all.
Delicious warmth spread over her when his bare flesh pressed against her side. When had he started teasing her breasts?
And when had he started kissing her again? She sighed when his lips nibbled at hers, begging for her to open. She did. His tongue surged inside to explore, to dance over and around his 'till he teased and coaxed it into joining him. His large hand came to rest atop her stomach, near spreading from one side to the other. Its warmth felt like the sun on a hot rock after ye'd been swimming in an icy pool. How could something so calloused be so gentle when it smoothed over her body?
She murmured deep in her throat when his palm rested above her secret spot and his long fingers delved through her hair to play with her nether lips. He teased her with his fingers, each touch bringing moisture there. When he touched her nub, she arched against him, hoping he would enter her. He didn't but cupped her instead, moving his hand up and down her slick center until she reached for his wrist, held it still as she ground herself against his palm.
So empty! She spread her legs wide, inviting him. After he removed his hand, he thrust his right knee between her thighs and rocked it against her center. His fingers returned to tease her nub, gently tweaking then retreating. Each time she built to a burning peak, he distracted her with a touch somewhere else until she cooled. He brought her ardor to near ecstasy. She heard herself moaning and begging him to give her release and clamped her tongue with her teeth. Unable to bear the hot need, she tugged at his arms, urging him to cover her. When she felt his warmth and weight over her whole body, she sighed with relief.
Balanced on his left arm, he lifted his weight off her. His tarse rubbed up and down her slick opening. Each downward thrust, he entered slightly then retreated to slide the silky head of his tarse over her sensitive nub.
Clamping her legs around his hips, she tried to force him to enter until he filled her. He was too strong for her. She screamed out in frustration. Only then did he plunge to the hilt and begin to rock. He built a rhythm, slow at first then several hard thrusts 'till she was sure if she didn't find her release she would explode from the mounting tension.
Each time Graemme felt the slight tightening of her stomach muscles preceding a climax, he distracted her with a murmur or lifted his upper body off hers until the quivers calmed.
She had challenged him to pleasure her to ecstasy in the Great Room. He wouldn't stop until she screamed for him. Every woman deserved a wedding night she would remember until she was old and gray. Though they might test each other from dawn to dusk, he determined when they were abed they would find a common ground in bed sport.
When she banged her heels against his nether cheeks and pulled his hair near out at his temples, he reached between them and feathered his fingers over her swollen nub. She tightened all around him, arched her back with her head pressed tight to the bed and gave a lusty yell of pleasure. Only then, did he stop thinking and let pleasure build until he thrust so deeply he needed to hold her shoulders to keep her in place.
He wasn't sure who had yelled the loudest.
Elyne? Or himself?
Chapter 27
The night had gone too quickly, Elyne decided, when she awoke at dawn. Why were her thighs aching when she stretched? 'Twas like the first time she'd spent hours riding astride. Her eyes widened and her vision cleared to see amused near-black eyes watching her.
"Sore, wife?" His smile suddenly stilled. "'Tis sorry I am I couldna get enough of ye last night."
"'Tis sorry I am when ye didna let me sleep more than a few heartbeats between yer assaults."
"Assaults? Was I wrong and it was the old crone cackling and making noises I thought were cries of delight? I must admit I added mine to the tumult."
"When did ye get up?" Elyne asked when she realized he was already dressed and ready to travel.
"Ye were snoring so loud ye didna hear me when I slipped from the room afore first light."
"I dinna snore!" Insult stiffened her body, only bringing the sore muscles more stress. She forced herself to relax. "A lady doesna snore. Only men snore."
"Ask Ranald. He came to scratch on the door thinking Squat had stolen into the room."
"I will prove ye wrong by asking him."
"Chief Broccin was there, also. Best ask him, too, while ye're at it."
Ada spared her further embarrassment when she came into the room, scolding him. "Lady Joneta told ye to let her sleep. She had a hard night." A mischievous light came into her eyes. "Screaming and begging wears a woman out, ye know."
Elyne pulled the sheet over her head and ordered in her most commanding voice, "Get ye both from the room. If Muriel and Catalin are about, I would appreciate their company."
"Can't leave yet," Ada said, "the servants are outside the door with a hot bath yer new husband requested for ye." She shook her head. "If they hold the tub much longer, they are liable to get tired and leave it in the passageway."
She went to the door and threw it wide, letting them in. Elyne crawled down in the bed, mortified knowing everyone in the castle had heard her last night.
"Ye look like a mole. Best watch out if Squat does come in. He's likely to take a nip out of yer hind end afore he realizes 'tis ye."
Elyne stuck her hot face out and scowled at him.
"Has no one taught ye the proper way to greet yer husband when we get to the Highlands?" Graemme looked at Ada and saw her blank expression. He sighed. "'Tis the custom to start the day off with a kiss and fervent thanks for giving ye a robust swiving during the night."
When Elyne's eyes widened in disbelief, he explained further.
"The Highlands are bitter cold most of the year and we retire to bed when the light lowers. The only way to stay warm is by vigorous bed sport." He shook his head solemnly, but his eyes sparkled. "We have many bairns in the castle come early summer."
"Ye are telling a mistruth, and I'll not thank ye for something ye enjoyed even more than I."
"Fair enough."
Graemme crawled on the bed, lifting his kilt to give his legs freedom. His weapon of pleasure drew her gaze only to see if it was as worn out as her pleasure center was. It was not. She put up her hands to keep him back, but he didna come closer.
Cupping his hands on her cheeks, he gazed softly into her eyes until she looked back. In a low voice, he began. "Thank ye, wife. Ye have pleased me greatly. 'Twas the most gratifying night I have ever spent with a woman. Yesterday was hard on ye and I am sorry. I hope I made up for it a little by giving ye an enjoyable night to remember."
He rose up on his knees and took a box from the pocket in his kilt. The wood was deep brown with amber streaks and was beautifully hand-carved with
Celtic symbols of eternal love knots. He moved back so she could sit up and take the box on her lap.
"The wood reminded me of yer hair. Esa helped by knowing a Welsh trader who specialized in wedding boxes. 'Twas fortunate he was at Clibrick when I arrived. Look inside."
Elyne opened the box to find a scarlet cloth cushioning a lovely neck chain with clear green stones embedded in twists of thin gold around them. Surrounded by the curled up chain, a gleaming ring caught the light coming from the window. It flashed shimmering green lights around the stone walls. 'Twas the most beautiful thing Elyne had ever seen.
With great tenderness, Graemme picked up the ring and put it on her ring finger alongside the gold wedding band he'd placed there yester eve.
A knot formed in Elyne's throat, for his expression was tender and he was as gentle as handling a bairn when he placed the ring on finger. He couldn't have been more sincere looking if he'd truly loved her. Her heart gave a twinge and she realized how very handsome Graemme was. Far more than Magnus or even Ranald. 'Twas strange, for she had never thought anyone more pleasant to the eye than her brother.
"Thank ye, Graemme. Yer morning after gift is most beautiful."
"It should be. Ye have pleased me so greatly ye deserve everything beautiful I can give ye."
Aunt Joneta interrupted by coming into the room like a summer breeze. Ada followed close behind her. She seemed excited to be moving to the Highlands with her mistress. Her adventurous spirit was the reason Elyne had chosen her as her personal maid.
"Have ye not allowed the poor lass her bath? Get, Graemme! Go below. Magnus needs ye to help form the line of horses and wagons. There are three wagons now. One for Clibrick's tents and chests of clothing, one for Elyne's things from Raptor and the third filled to the hilt with food from Cook.
"Oh, and Ranald packed a box of special herbs, unguents, and salves. We selected what we thought ye would have a hard time finding in the Highlands."
Surrender Page 27
