“That is why I cannot make love to ye tonight, ye foolish woman. Every time I moved, it would hurt ye. If ye keep hurting the parts of ye that are damaged, they will take longer to heal. I would rather wait until ye are healed properly, so that any noises ye make are from pleasure, not pain”.
I gasped again, his words were making that heat come back between my legs. When he spoke of sounds of pleasure, I could only imagine how it would be, if we were naked in this bed together, with him moving over me, and my hands running over his powerful back, squeezing his naked buttocks as he drove himself into me. I flushed, and because I was naked, I realised by Donald’s reaction that it was not just my face that took on a rosy hue.
“Ah, Eleanor, ye are going pink all over. Did I say something that pleased ye?”
“Oh yes, Donald, when ye talked about making love to me properly, it was as if I could see us together, and I don’t know if I can wait very long. How long will my injuries take to heal?” I asked the last on a small, whiny voice, hearing myself plead for him.
Donald responded by flinging back the covers even further, so that he could see all of me. He bent his head to my breast, where his hand had been before, and shocked me by putting his mouth to it, and licking around the nipple. My eyes rolled back in my head at this new sensation. Who knew that a mouth and tongue could bring such pleasure? As I watched, Donald began to move down my body, licking skin everywhere, kissing my bandaged side gently, and then dipping his tongue into my navel. I tried to buck but my knee caused me pain again. Donald lifted his head and looked at me.
“Eleanor, ye cannot move, but ye don’t seem to understand. I am going to put my arm just here”, and he pressed his forearm into my hip, “not to restrain ye to stop ye getting away or anything like that, just to hold ye still so ye don’t injure yerself any further. Will ye allow me to do this?”
I stared at Donald, nodding but confused. What was he planning that he needed to hold me still for? As Donald moved back to my abdomen, kissing and licking, I began to realise that perhaps Donald was a clever man after all. I felt a sudden need to push my hips upward, and if it were not for him pressing me into the mattress so that I could not move, I would have done so. I certainly would have done so when he moved further down still, and I felt his mouth kiss me gently amongst my curls. I had been hoping that he would put his fingers to good work like I knew he could, but he dipped his head and ran his tongue along my opening instead. I gasped and tried to buck his face off, but he increased the pressure on his arm instead. I stilled, wondering what liberties he would take next, and then I felt the most amazing feeling, it felt like he was putting his tongue inside me, where his fingers had been. I moaned, and my uninjured hand flapped about the bed, grabbing at the sheets and releasing them. Donald did things to me that I had never in my wildest dreams imagined, kissing, licking and sucking, alternately thrusting his tongue inside me, then running it around that piece of skin that felt so good, then doing that while he inserted those two wonderful fingers inside me. I squirmed for all I was worth but could not move, yet even though Donald was holding me immobile, I did not feel the least frightened. This was clearly all about my pleasure, not his own, and then all thought fled as I realised I was close to that delicious sensation that Donald could make me feel so easily. As I moaned his name, Donald pushed his face hard against me so that his tongue reached almost as far as his fingers had yesterday, and I wound my fingers into his hair, wishing that I had both hands free, not knowing if I was trying to pull his head away or push it closer, as I flew apart and spasmed uncontrollably.
As my heart stopped pounding in my chest, and my senses started to return to normal, I realised that Donald had moved up so that he was now laying beside me. He snuggled up as close as he could without hurting me, and held me tight, gentling me as I stopped shaking, so that I finally closed my eyes and fell asleep.
It seemed like only a few minutes later, but must have been some hours later, that I woke up, slightly on my side, with Donald wrapped around me. My head was pounding and my mouth felt stale, but I felt happier than I had in a long time. I was alive and waking up wrapped in the arms of a man who sacrificed his own pleasure for mine. I wiggled, realising that Donald was hard again. Even though I hurt all over, I wanted to know if he could feel the pleasure I did last night, if I did to him what he had done to me. I started trying to wriggle down the bed, forcing myself not to gasp at the various pains that I felt, then realised that Donald was no longer asleep. I looked at his face to find him watching me.
“Where do ye think ye are going?” He said sleepily, while keeping his eyes fixed on me.
I lost my nerve. I knew what I wanted to do, but could not bring myself to say it. It seemed so shocking to me, yet how could it be wrong when it had felt so right last night?
Donald breathed out, clearly unable to fathom why I was staring at him speechlessly.
“Eleanor, ye know ye can tell me anything. Don’t be embarrassed. Do ye need to relieve yerself? I can fetch the chamberpot if ye need it, or I can carry ye to the garderobe if ye would prefer to use it instead.
My face flamed at the thought of how helpless I would be if I let myself be. I held my head up and stared at Donald, remembering what we had shared, and how much I still wanted to share. Unbidden, Mary’s words came to me, when she said that there were some things that Donald would want to tell me himself. I smiled as I remembered what he had done last night. If Mary had told me such a thing, I would have been horrified. But having experienced it, I knew that there was something so right about it. And about what I wanted to do. I tried to move down Donald’s body again but gave up, frustrated.
“I wanted to surprise ye when ye woke up this morning like ye surprised me last night”.
Donald stared at me in confusion for a few moments, then his eyes widened as he must have realised what I was too shy to say.
“Do ye mean ye want to put yer mouth on me?”
I nodded, then Donald looked at my knee.
“I don’t know how ye could think ye were going to do that when ye can barely move. I don’t even know if ye will like it. I have to tell ye, most women do not”.
I had an unaccountable pang of jealousy at the thought of Donald doing anything with other women. I could not do anything about what had happened in the past, but I certainly had a say in the future. I sat up and poked him in the chest with my finger, stabbing it for emphasis as I spoke.
“Donald McGarrow. There will be no other women, so it doesn’t matter what other women like. For ye now and for ever more, there is only me, do ye understand me?”
Donald smiled. I had expected if anything that he would be annoyed at his wife trying to tell him what to do. He grabbed my finger to stop it poking his chest, and brought it to his lips, gently sucking on it as he spoke around it.
“Yes, Eleanor, that was part of the vows we spoke to the priest remember? We both vowed that there would only be each other for us. I meant that, I hope ye did too, or we are going to have a big argument right now”.
I drew in an indignant breath. My voice rose several octaves until it was nearly a squeak.
“Of course there will not be anyone else for me, ye big idiot. Even if I lied to the priest, I could never lie to ye. There will never be anyone else for me, I could not imagine wanting to be with anyone but ye, and certainly could not imagine wanting to do to anyone else what I want to do to ye right now”.
Donald’s eyes darkened at my reminder of my intention, then he looked around, making a little “oh” sound as he seemed to work something out. Climbing out of bed, he reached over and slowly dragged me to the side, picking me up and moving me to a chair and and then pulling a small footstool to the front of the the chair, packing pillows under my leg until my leg was extended out straight. All the while he was bustling about, I was watching his muscular body as he worked, enjoying the play of muscles under his skin, and wanting to run my hands over that skin. Finally, everything seemed to meet with his ap
proval, and Donald stood up, moving towards me and standing directly in front of me. I found myself looking directly at his shaft. Donald spoke again as I stared at it.
“Are ye sure, Eleanor? I’d be a fool to try to talk ye out of it, but I don’t want ye to feel like ye have to, either. I don’t want ye to do anything ye don’t want to do”.
In answer, I put my hand on Donald’s shaft, tugging him forward so that he stepped right up to me, and bent my head to place a gentle kiss on his warm skin. He made a quiet little sound, that I took to be of encouragement, so I ran my tongue up and down his shaft, discovering that there was a big vein on the underside, loving each new discovery I made about my husband’s body. Donald threw his head back in pleasure at what I was doing, and emboldened, I opened my lips wide, and took him inside my mouth.
“Eleanor! Donald groaned as he thrust into my mouth a little. Taken aback I pulled back my head, and Donald looked down at me, concerned. He went to step back but I put my good arm around his back, running my hand down to his buttock and grasping it, pinching it hard and pulling him back towards me.
“Eleanor, ye have no idea how that feels”. I looked up, to see Donald’s eyes closed as he threw his head back again. I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed and gasped, and I wanted so much to please him as he had pleased me last night. I knew that what had really seemed to please him was when I took him into my mouth, so I tried to take a little more, and found that if I angled my head just so, and ignored the need to gag, I could feel him sliding to the back of my throat. I felt wicked and beautiful at the same time as my husband lost himself in the pleasure of what I was doing, and unwittingly began to thrust gently into my mouth. I grew hot between the legs as I imagined us in our bed, with his shaft inside my body, instead of just my mouth, and the thought of this drove me wild. I clutched his buttock hard and pulled him into me, trying to fit him all in to my mouth, and running my tongue along that big vein each time he pulled out. Finally I noticed that his breathing was changing, and remembered how he had climaxed when I stoked him with my hand. I worried about what I would do then, would there be too much, would it taste bad, or would I choke? Just as I thought I would soon be finding out, Donald broke away from my hold, pulling out of my mouth and grasping his shaft, and I watched as the fluid spurted out, covering my naked breast.
Afterwards, Donald warmed up some water and gently washed me all over, laughingly paying special attention to my lower body, and I washed him, doing the same. He helped me dress, and then I fretted about how I would get around.
“Ye are not heavy. I will carry ye down to the morning meal”, Donald told me, but I told him that wasn’t the only problem.
“Ye can’t carry me everywhere”, I complained. “But how can I get around? I cannot put any weight on my leg, and I cannot use a stick, with my arm bound tight to my chest”.
Just as we sat in our room, scratching our heads in confusion, there was a knock at the door.
Donald opened it, and Mary breezed in telling me that she had come to change the bandages.
“But you’re already dressed. I didn’t think you would be awake already”, she exclaimed.
“Never you mind. Donald, you can help me, I really just need to change Eleanor’s bandage, and put her arm in a sling, so once we’ve done that, we can all go get something to eat”.
So between the three of us, we managed. Donald lifted my upper clothing out of the way while Mary took off the old bandage and checked the wound. She pronounced it clean and free of infection at this stage.
“As it came from a horse’s hoof, there was always the danger that the hoof had dirt on it which got in the wound. Bridget is very thorough, and she got all the dirt out, so this should heal well. It was only a scratch anyway, not very deep. If you just hold still, I will put a new bandage on. The arm is going to be more difficult. We will need to take off your tunic and chemise, Eleanor”.
My face flamed at that. I was not embarrassed at Donald seeing my bare breasts, particularly not considering what he had done to one just a short time before, and last night I had been too drunk to care about Mary seeing my naked body, but this morning I was sober, even if a little sore still around the head. To make matters worse, with Donald and Mary in the room together it just seemed wrong. Mary, to her credit, kept everything casual and seemed to be oblivious to any discomfort which made it easier for me. Donald removed my clothing and dropped it on the bed, and I tried to cover my bare breast with my hand. At this, Mary looked at me with a twisted grin on her face.
“Now Eleanor, you haven’t got anything I haven’t got, so you don’t need to hide anything from me. Goodness, you have seen me nurse my son, I’m not bothered about that, so you don’t need to worry about this. Besides, I’m sure this isn’t the first time Donald has seen you without clothes on, so I don’t know who you are hiding from. Don’t worry, and don’t feel uncomfortable, please”.
I smiled uncertainly, but couldn’t relax properly. Mary shrugged and undid the bandage on my arm. I dropped my hand from my breast and braced it against my shoulder as I groaned in agony.
“It hurts much more when ye take the bandage off, Mary, why is that, is something wrong?”
“No, Eleanor. It has been bound tightly for hours, so is probably a little numb. You know how it hurts when your feet go to sleep and then you start moving on them? Well this is like that, but worse. We had to stop your shoulder moving for a few hours while everything settled back down, and to stop it swelling more, but we have to let the bandage off now. Now what I am going to do is fashion a sling to keep the weight of your arm from your shoulder. Donald, Eleanor will need her clothes back on, but we have to put her arm through the sleeve first, and if we aren’t gentle, this will really hurt”.
Very gently, the two of them eased my arm through the sleeve of my chemise, and then my tunic. Donald held my arm in place while Mary readied the sling. Then she looped it around my neck, gently smoothing it over my chest and placing my arm in it, before checking that it was the right height before Donald let go of the weight of my arm. I braced myself for the pain, but apart from a dull ache from the shoulder itself, it wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be. I commented on that.
“Well, you have Donald and Liam to thank for that. I have to say, I’ve never seen it done before, and I’m glad it wasn’t me, because it looked like it really hurt. You were lucky that these men have seen that sort of injury before and knew what to do. Like most things, the sooner you set it right, the better it heals. If they hadn’t been able to do it so soon after the injury, you would be hurting a lot worse today and it might never heal properly”.
Donald carried me in to the meal, and sat me down. I fumbled with my spoon, as it was my right arm that was injured and I favoured my right hand, I knew things would be difficult, but I refused to allow my husband to feed me like a babe. I passed on the porridge after being unable to get it to my mouth without spilling most of it, and filled up on bread.
After the meal, Donald carried me to where the men practiced, sitting me on a hay bale with my foot resting on a bucket, so that he could still practice while he kept an eye on me. I was glad as I was a little worried about Ian, but he seemed much better today, although his eyes were a little bloodshot. When he told his younger brother to stop speaking so loudly, I almost laughed out loud as I realised what his problem was. Like me, he was suffering the effects of too much whiskey last night as well. Over the course of the morning, many of the men approached me, asking about my injuries and exclaiming about how well I was doing. It seemed that Ian had told them how I had fought with Lachlan, thwarting him from his desire to carry me off until Ian could catch up with us, and they were impressed that a woman had been able to fight so well. I suggested that if they had any concerns about my abilities, they should take it up with my teacher, indicating Donald, and many of them laughed, telling me that few could best him in a fight, and I had learned my lessons well. I heard someone mention a name to Ian,
asking if he had learned some of his skills with the sword from him, and I spoke up.
“Who is this D’arcy? I have heard the name mentioned, but have I ever met him?”
Everyone looked at Liam, who shook his head as he approached me.
“D’arcy is the best swordsman I have ever seen. When I say is, I hope that I should not be saying was. What I mean to say is, he left for the Holy Land last year and we have not heard what happened to him or his men. Not that we really expect to, as they are English, and we would not get word here about what may happen to a band of Englishmen, but I would hope to hear from him again one day. I suppose ye have heard tell of how Mary came to be with us?”
“Yes, Mary is English too, I heard the story that ye kidnapped her, but decided to keep her”.
Liam laughed.
“Yes, well, it was more complicated than that, but that is the most of it. D’arcy was her guard, and we outnumbered him, so he surrendered to us so that he could stay with Mary and protect her from the big bad Scots”.
At this, a lot of the men guffawed.
“If we had truly meant to harm Mary, he could not have stopped us, but he would have died trying, and we could not help but respect him for that. When we arrived here, he joined us in the lists, and put us all to shame with demonstrations of his abilities with a sword. He was only with us a short time, but I think we learned something from him. None of us bested him in a swordfight, even though I was close”.
One of the men broke up, howling with laughter.
“Close? Keep telling yerself that Liam. Ye couldn’t even beat him in a fistfight, and he is only half yer size”.
Liam turned and yelled at the man, although I could tell it was in jest.
“Gregor, shut yer lying mouth. It was a draw. I would have beaten him if Da had not stopped us. And he might be a smaller man than me, but not that much smaller, and he is quick on his feet. It must be from the sword practice. He is devilishly quick”.
Memories of a Highlander Page 12
