The Taken Bride: A Medieval Romance

by McCormick, Kaley

  The water sloshed onto the floor as their bodies crashed into one another. The waves rolled through her body over and over as Thomas tried to hang on to his self-control for as long as possible. Her hot wet inner velvet clenched at him, pulling him in and pushing him out.

  “Mary! I’m going to!” he groaned in her ear.

  “Do it,” she hissed. “Inside me.”

  He thrust hard into her once more and she felt him release inside her very body. She clamped her legs around him and held herself down against him; she did not want the runaway mountain ride to end.

  He fell backwards, panting and red-faced. “Mary, I… sweet Lord, I never… Holy mother…”

  “Thomas, what was that? I have never felt anything like that before in my life.”

  “Never? Your husband has never pleased you? Has never satisfied you?”

  “I did not know I needed to be pleased or satisfied. I have never felt anything like that before. Ever.” She struggled to catch her breath.

  “I never knew that it could be… enjoyable.”

  “Oh Mary, I think tomorrow shall be another lesson to be remembered.”

  The next day Thomas left again and Mary spent most of the day pondering what had happened last night. She never knew her body was capable of such things, such feelings, such explosions. She wondered if he would be willing to bed her without the bath time pretense just this one night.

  When he arrived home that night, she was quiet during dinner. He did not seem as demanding as he had been the previous days. After she cleaned up the dinner dishes, he motioned to the bedroom.

  “Another bath, perhaps?”

  “Thomas?” her voice was quiet.

  “Yes?”

  “Could we just forgo the bath tonight?”

  “Skip it? Skip it altogether or just skip the bath part?”

  Mary felt her cheeks redden, “Just skip the bath part.”

  “Ah, I see.” He tried not to grin but the smile tugged upwards at the corners of his mouth. “I do not seem so despicable any longer?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “What was that? Louder please.” He relished the fact that her desire for him was overcoming her shyness. That thought made his cock twitch already.

  “No, you are not so much.”

  He took her by the hand, “Then come here. We shall do this properly.”

  He quickly but gently unbuttoned the dress and let it fall. His hands roamed her body freely, his rough fingers simultaneously scratching her and making her tingle. He removed his own clothing, piling it up on the floor next to hers.

  He lay her down on the bed and crawled up next to her. “What would you have us do?” he whispered, pushing the very limits of what Mary was willing to speak out loud.

  “You could touch me again?” her desire for those feelings was overcoming her sense of decency.

  “Like this?” he asked as his hands trailed up the crease between her closed thighs.

  “Hmm mmm. Like that.”

  He bent his head, no longer able to resist her breasts. His tongue circled her nipple slowly as she moaned. As he licked and sucked, it stiffened in his mouth same as his member stiffened against the side of her hip. As she squirmed, she rubbed up against it, causing him to groan against her skin.

  He left a trail of wet kisses down her belly until he was kneeling on the floor in front of her, pressing her thighs open.

  “Thomas? What are you doing on the floor?”

  “Another lesson to remember.”

  She felt the same wet kisses on her thighs, moving upwards until she was quite nervous at his proximity to her ache. The ache was stronger than the night before, this time she knew what it was capable of. But what on earth was he doing on the floor?

  He kissed her tightly closed folds and she gasped loudly as his tongue slid inside to find the center of the ache. He easily found the swollen nub that together they had discovered the previous night, and curled his tongue around it. Her thighs fell further apart as he sent ripples through her body, bubbles upon bubbles until she could hardly catch her breath.

  “Thomas… What are you doing to me? I never…”

  Her stomach trembled. It was as though each ripple and bubble and tingle multiplied inside of her. It was so much and so intense, she cried out just from the newness of all of it. He flicked and licked and sucked at the tiny center until all of the bubbles exploded at once and she dug her hands into his hair, pulling his face against herself.

  As the quivering slowed, he stood and eased her back up onto the bed and climbed on top of her.

  “Mary, are you sure?” he ground himself against her slippery wetness.

  “Oh Thomas, please, come here,” she was not even sure what she wanted any more but she knew it had to do with feeling him pressed up against her.

  He slipped easily inside, groaning deeply as she whimpered. Last night she had not noticed but tonight she felt how much he was, how he filled her body.

  “Oh. You are so big!” her innocent declaration spurred his hips faster. This was no simple stroke of his ego, this was true amazement on her part.

  She writhed underneath him as he felt her tight heat surround him. He was not going to be able to exude much self-control at all. He pounded harder and faster, every thrust sending both of them towards the cliff. Her wonder and new-found enthusiasm drove him straight up to the edge.

  “Thomas!” Mary cried out.

  “Yes, I’m going to…”

  They grunted and groaned together as her velvet walls drew out every bit of his hot seed.

  “Oh Thomas, I had no idea… I never knew… it could be like that…”

  Thomas kissed her lips roughly, his tongue again diving inside of her. She tasted a tart sweetness on his lips and knew it was her own flavor.

  “I have something to tell you,” he whispered against her neck.

  “I think at this moment, you could tell me anything.”

  “George does not want you back. He said we can do with you as we please because he is not giving up his land for a useless barren woman.”

  Mary felt a hot tear slide down her cheek.

  “Mary, can I keep you?”

  “Thomas, I have nowhere else to go.”

  The pair fell asleep with their naked limbs still tangled together.

  Mary adjusted easily her new life. She found that housekeeping was not so hard when life was simpler, and she actually enjoyed cooking. Occasionally she would make plans to meet her friend the cook in the apple grove for a snack, and Thomas had no concerns about letting her go. The cook always commented on how radiant she looked and how insufferable George had become in her absence. It was no surprise given her glow that she was soon with child. The poor young girl even whispered about George visiting that house in town.

  Several ecstasy-filled months later, Mary and Thomas were in town buying supplies when they happened to run into George as he staggered out of the pub.

  “Mary!” He was startled to have encountered her and nearly lost his tentative balance completely.

  “George, good day. I trust life is treating you well.”

  “Well enough I suppose. And Thomas, hello. Give my regards to Robert and tell him to keep his blasted pond. And this blasted woman. Wait… What on God’s good earth…” George tried desperately to make his eyes focus on the couple in front of him, and his eyes wandered to her rounded belly plump with the seed of her new lover.

  Thomas wrapped his arm around her shoulders protectively, “She is taken care of, sir.”

  Mary smiled sweetly, and leaned into Thomas’s strong chest as she gently caressed her swollen expectant belly. Thomas had given her everything George had not.

  THE END

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  Surrendering to the Scots

  A Scottish Romance

  By: Kaley McCormick

  Seized by the Highlander

  Chapter One

  Elizabeth
’s crinoline skirts rustled as they swept against the blades of grass that peeked through the cobblestone path. The shops seemed more crowded than normal as she made her way from one to the next. It was her maidservant’s day off but there were still things that the household needed. Her husband, Henry, would not be pleased if his whiskey was not available at the end of the day, and the cook needed a few things for dinner. Elizabeth would not want to be home if Henry were deprived of his food or his beverage. Her cheek still smarted from upsetting him the night before, by not refilling his mug quickly enough.

  She smiled at the shopkeeper as he wrapped up the cheese, pickles and sweet jam. Apparently Henry’s reputation preceded him, and with a small nod, the shopkeeper also added a bottle of whiskey to the brown paper package before tying up the white twine.

  He offered to add the purchases to the family’s shop credit and she agreed. Henry never allowed her to carry any money and the shops all seemed to place good faith on his abilities to pay the bills.

  With the package tucked into the wicker basket she carried in the crook of her elbow, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and headed back into the streets. The summer was waning and the air carried the autumn chill. She welcomed the relief from the heat of the earlier months, but knew she should start preparing the house for winter.

  She made a mental list of tasks as she made her way back to the estate. The wind tickled at the nape of her neck and tried to steal loose tendrils from her coifed blonde curls. The walk was not short, but she enjoyed the chance to get out of her drafty old stone estate. It seemed to trap the heat in July and the cold in January, and never felt quite comfortable at any time of year. And while the shopping could have been done by the servants, she liked having an excuse to wander about town. She knew better than to spend too much money at any of the stores, but it was a pleasant afternoon to window shop. Henry constantly chided her for not taking the carriage into town, but she almost always took the trip by foot.

  Henry was well-known in the area as the region’s largest landowner so most of the shopkeepers were overly attentive to her needs. They would fetch her a cup of tea, provide her a chair to rest, and even wrap packages extra carefully when she did decide to buy something.

  When she arrived home, the cook whisked the package away from her and set a pot of tea on the stove to heat.

  “Would you like something to eat ma’am?” the cook offered.

  “Yes, Olivia, that would be lovely. I know that dinner is not far off, but I’m not certain I will make it that long.” She smiled gently at the older woman and settled into a chair at the servants’ table in the kitchen. Her blue eyes twinkled since she knew that she would shortly be enjoying some of the sharp cheddar cheese that she had just purchased.

  “Ma’am, I am happy to bring it to your room if you like.”

  “No, I should prefer to sit here in the warm kitchen with your company, if that’s alright.”

  Olivia smiled and nodded. “But of course, Ma’am.”

  She poured the tea into an elegant china mug and cut off pieces of homemade bread and the fresh cheese as a snack. While Elizabeth sipped and nibbled, they discussed the changes in the weather as Olivia started to prepare their dinner.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia watched the delicate young woman and shook her head slightly. She could not understand Elizabeth’s choice to marry her boss. He was a gray-haired, flabby, pig-headed drunkard who constantly yelled at everyone in the household. And Elizabeth seemed to take the brunt of it. They had been married almost two years now, and despite his every effort to force her, she had yet to produce an heir for his estate.

  Olivia smirked to herself as an errant thought crept through her head. Perhaps Elizabeth’s body was rejecting Henry in a way that she could not. The cook was certain that it had been an arranged marriage. Elizabeth’s father had been the banker in town, and thusly had his choice of suitors when Elizabeth came of age. The wealthiest landowner in the area was an obvious choice on paper, and it was not allowed for the young lady to question the agreement that had been made. They had both been brought up in the proper British environments, and the arrangement did make sense on paper.

  By the time Henry had returned from his meeting with the other landowners, Olivia had the dinner prepared. They dined on more of the same bread and cheese, along with slices of smoked ham, fresh green onions and ripe tomatoes from the vegetable garden, tart pickles, and slices of crisp apple from the grove down by the pond.

  After they finished, Henry retired to his study with the bottle of whiskey. Elizabeth went to her bedroom to light her fireplace, and to cross stitch before retiring for the evening. She just hoped he would succumb to the effects of the alcohol before he wanted to try yet again in his heavy-handed, demanding way for a son.

  Chapter Two

  William grinned as the wind ruffled his shaggy dark hair and he squinted his brown eyes against the sun. His horse, King, huffed at the dust in the air and pawed at the ground between the trees where they waited.

  The tall, broad-shouldered man ran his hand down the horse’s whither and admired the well-muscled animal. He had always been a good companion and a faithful friend, even when William would talk his ear off with all sorts of random mutterings about the state of the countrymen he encountered.

  William pitied the working man as he strained his back in fields that did not even belong to him, and he detested the nobleman who cracked the whip over that back. He much preferred his life, not that it was ever much of a choice, but he could not imagine answering to either master—the field that demanded so much or the landowner who demanded even more. Some would envy him his freedom, but some would pity him for his lack of roots.

  His band of friends would be meeting up soon, in the clearing just on the other side of the pond, and he knew he should get going. But he did love these fall days, when the sun was still warm but the wind had started to whisper of the winter chill. He did hope that one of the men had found some food that day, because the rumbling in his stomach was starting to irritate him.

  He mounted the horse and urged him into a walk. He loved to tell people that he had named the horse King, so that he would always be in the company of royalty wherever he went. They were planning an outing for some time in the next few days, and he was looking forward to the adventure and hopefully the spoils of their personal private war. He liked to think that they were raging against the heavy-handed nobility, but some of their group simply did it for the fight and the gold.

  Some of their party rode on horseback while others traveled on foot. It gave the group an advantage overall, with more flexibility in their approach, and easier to split up after the fact. William liked the speed he gained from King, and he could carry more when the need demanded.

  As he approached the pond, his watchful and trained eyes noticed the gathering group of bedraggled and battle-scarred men on the other side. He grinned at the sight of his nomad family and prodded King to move faster. He tended to be the leader of the group, not by any formal decision or acknowledgement, but by the sheer force of his personality and experience.

  The wind ruffled his dark hair again and he shook a stray curl from his eyes. The men waved and beckoned to him when they caught sight of him, and King broke into a run at pressure from his heels. When he arrived at the group, he dismounted and walked King to the pond for a drink before grabbing an apple from the tree above him, settling into the grass with his back up against the trunk.

  “The shopkeeper in town was kind enough to loan us this,” one man grinned as he leaned over to hand William a bundle of brown paper.

  His mouth watered when William unwrapped it and found generous chunks of buttered bread. He tried to eat it slowly and savor the taste, but his hunger won the battle and he ended up scarfing it down along with the borrowed apple.

  “Many thanks,” he mumbled in a voice muffled by the first meal he had had in over a day.

  As William ate, the others finalized their pl
an. It seemed that the owner of the land they rested on was going to be away for some sort of business the next day, so it was the ideal time. The landowner usually traveled with his protective guard, which would leave the house and lands unprotected, save a few servants and the field workers. It was always easier to take on the wife and the handmaidens, than the homeowner and his private soldiers.

  William nodded his approval enthusiastically, and looked around the group for a telltale flask to wash down his dinner. A hand appeared above his head and he gratefully accepted the offer of ale.

  The group had no real intentions in mind when they had chosen this estate to plunder. It seemed generous and wealthy, and almost assuredly had something for everyone. Some of the men were looking for gold and jewels, others searched for women to assault. One or two of them always checked the stables for extra horses. And nearly always the youngest of the group, a boy of about thirteen or so, was assigned to the kitchen and larder for anything he could grab easily.

  Full and content, the men all settled into the clearing and grove for the evening. It was a good spot to call home for the night, with the protection of the trees, and the water for the horses. They wanted to be alert and nearby as soon as the man left his castle so they could move in and move on.

  Chapter Three

  William and his band were up with the sun, splashing cold water over their faces and finishing up the last of the food that had been borrowed in town. They each checked their weapons and clapped each other on the shoulders for support. There was always a risk in these raiding parties, but so far they had been lucky to escape serious injury or capture.

  Inside the estate, Elizabeth’s attendant had returned from her day off and was rousing her for breakfast. The dogs were making more noise than usual, so Elizabeth got up more quickly than usual, since she was already half-awake anyway.

  The young woman, Mary, helped Elizabeth dress for the day and twisted her hair into the topknot before cinching her into the corset and dress. Breakfast was simple, hot tea and warm bread and fried eggs. Elizabeth dined with Henry that morning, as he slammed his meaty fist into the table and droned on about some deal he was going to make.