The Taken Bride: A Medieval Romance

by McCormick, Kaley

  “Almost. I think they are finishing the flowers in the living area. We best get you into your dress.”

  The cream-colored lace skimmed over her full breasts, slim waist, and curvy hips. Her ivory skin and blonde hair made her look like a tiny porcelain doll. Lydia gasped at how fragile her willful and disobedient girl looked. When her mind flashed to her impending son-in-law, she became worried about the upcoming wedding night.

  One of the house servants opened the door and signaled to the trio that it was time. Victoria stepped out of the room and her father took her arm roughly.

  “You’re going to be someone else’s headache now,” he smirked smugly.

  She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath as they made their way down the staircase with her mother in tow.

  Dylan’s eyes widened noticeably when he caught sight of her. Her perfect hourglass figure sheathed in lace, her dancing green eyes, and her tiny hands captivated him. And caused that uncomfortable twitching again. He took her hand from her father’s arm, and rested it on his own. They both looked down as he hand covered hers completely, and a tingle ignited both of their bloodstreams.

  The ceremony was a blur to both of them, as was the celebration afterwards. After a small glass of ale, Victoria could hardly understand any of the Scotsmen when they stood up to toast the couple. As the sun faded away into the grey sky, her stomach knotted up with thoughts of what came next. One by one the clansmen drifted off into the night to sleep off their party. Abigail retired to the servants’ quarters. And her parents made their way to the guest room upstairs. Finally, just Victoria and Dylan were left in the dining hall.

  Dylan was shocked at how nervous he was. He ran his hand over his beard and cleared his throat.

  “Well, my wife, are you ready to see your new room?”

  Victoria nodded mutely and rose to follow him.

  Dylan ushered his trembling bride to their suite and held open the large wooden door for her. It opened into a huge open space, outfitted with a beautiful wooden bed, two large chairs, and even a brand-new vanity, probably made just for her. In the corner there was even a thick dark green curtain, drawn back to reveal the metal washtub she had used earlier.

  Victoria took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Dylan could feel her hesitation in the trembling of her tiny hand on his arm. He wanted to show her who was in charge of her life now, but he certainly did not want to terrify the young woman.

  He turned her body to face the foot of the bed, and started to unlace the back of her bodice. He stopped when he realized that she was holding her breath as he worked with the thin strings.

  “Victoria?” he said softly.

  “Yes?” she whispered, turning her head back towards him.

  “Don’t be afraid, I will do my best not to hurt you.”

  “It’s going to hurt?” her voice sounded fragile and thin.

  He smiled, “Yes, probably a bit. And I’m sorry for that.”

  She sighed and turned around fully to face him. She rested her palms flat on his broad chest and looked up into his face.

  “Shall we make it quick then?”

  He gently brushed a loose curl from her cheek and nodded, “Not quick but easy.”

  He reached around her and finished untying all of the strings that held her dress against her body. He carefully slipped the shoulder straps down and let the bodice fall away. Dylan sucked in a sharp breath when her full breasts slid into view.

  “You are beautiful,” he exhaled.

  Her cheeks flushed pink, and she was tempted to cover herself but tightened her hands into fists instead. He slid the dress down over the curve of her hips and let it pool on the floor. Just as slowly and deliberately, he removed his leather jacket, the soft cotton shirt, and his trousers. She gasped at the sight of his body, the muscles tightening and rippling. She dared not let her eyes drift too far down.

  He carefully picked her up and laid her on the bed. Lying down next to her, he covered them both with a thick quilted blanket. The callouses on his hands felt rough but his touch was gentle. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths as she experiences a man’s touch for the first time.

  The heat that she felt when he looked at her with his hypnotic eyes returned; it seemed to flow through her very veins as he continued to explore her body. She could feel something velvety yet hard twitching against her thigh but made no motions to touch him in return. Her groin felt slippery and for a moment she was horrified that she had wet herself, but there did not seem to be any wetness on the sheet beneath her.

  He tenderly parted her legs, shifted on top of her, and bid her to open her eyes. She looked at him and saw a fire in his face that she assumed must be this male need that her mother warned her about.

  “It will hurt, I can’t take that away. But I hope you do not fear this in the future.”

  She held her breath and felt something warm and soft and thick between her legs, and then it was inside of her body. There was a sharp pain in her belly and then he was fully inside her. She gasped as he filled her and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

  His hips shifted back and forth, and she could feel movement inside her. The heat in her blood seemed to be collecting between her legs and she could not stop the light moan that escaped her soft pink lips.

  He groaned deep in his chest, and within just a few moments, she felt him twitch inside her. It felt like several splashes of warm water against her insides, and then he collapsed on top of her.

  “I’m sorry, it has been a while.”

  “Sorry? It did not hurt that much.”

  He laughed and shifted off of her, onto the bed next to her. “I hope you will come to understand my comment better.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his body heat. They drifted off to sleep as Victoria wondered what all the fuss was about.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning, they rose and dressed to join their families for breakfast in the dining hall.

  Lydia kissed her daughter on the cheek, and whispered, “My little girl is a woman now.”

  Victoria blushed, realizing in an instant that the entire household knew what she and Dylan had done the previous night.

  After a quick breakfast, Andrew and Lydia and their own staff packed up and said their goodbyes. Victoria was cold and distant to her father but embraced her mother roughly. Lydia brushed away tears from her daughter’s eyes and climbed into the carriage. Victoria turned back and went into the castle so that she did not have to watch them drive off the property.

  Dylan followed her back inside, and up to their room.

  “What would you like to do today, Mrs. Walker?”

  She smiled up at him and twisted her hands in her lap as she perched on the edge of one of the chairs.

  Dylan knelt in front of her, “Anything you ask, I shall make it so.”

  Her cheeks flushed dark pink and she avoided looking into his penetrating blue eyes.

  He caught her chin with a finger and pulled her face up towards his. “What is it?”

  “I should like to do what we did last night,” she said so softly that he could barely hear.

  “What was that?”

  “I should like to do what we did last night,” she repeated.

  He grinned at her, “Now that request I can manage.”

  She could not explain why she wanted to be with him again, only that she liked the heat he created inside her and she wanted to feel it again. She wanted to feel his hands again, and to be near him.

  He pulled her up from the chair and made quicker work of her house dress than the fancy wedding gown. His clothes seemed to dissolve off of his body and he swept her up and to the bed.

  “Please? Could we do it longer though?” she asked quietly.

  He laughed, “I said I was sorry.”

  His hand covered her belly as he bent his mouth to her exposed breast. She giggled softly when his beard tickled her delicate skin but her giggle disso
lved into a gasp when his mouth closed over her taut nipple. It tingled throughout her entire body as his tongue traced circles on her skin while his beard still tickled. She squirmed and felt his hand drift further down her stomach.

  His fingers grazed her thigh and she squirmed again. He kissed and nibbled her neck, shushing her softly. She tried to hold still as his hands and lips explored her skin, but it tingled and tickled and she could not stop herself from responding.

  Finally, his fingers dipped down between her legs and she gasped as fire seemed to leap from her groin to her fingers and toes.

  “Shh, shh, shh,” he murmured against her neck. “It’s okay.”

  As much as he wanted to drive himself back into her tight warm body, he also wanted to show her that she could enjoy their union too. He had to brace himself and exert every bit of his self-control to take his time.

  His fingers teased and tickled her most private parts until she was gasping and writhing.

  “Dylan… what are you doing?”

  Victoria was baffled by the feelings that overwhelmed her senses. During the entire journey to Scotland, her mother and Abigail had tried to instruct and warn her about marital relations, but neither of them had ever mentioned that it would feel like this.

  “I’m taking care of you,” he smiled down at her confused and flushed face.

  “Of me? I thought, I thought it was supposed to be a, um, wifely duty to be with her husband.”

  He chuckled softly, “It is, so to speak, but there’s no reason it can’t be enjoyable for you as well.”

  “Ohhh…” she breathed softly.

  His fingers kept circling and rubbing, and the tingles got stronger. Her fingers clenched the sheet underneath them. The heat in her body had collected into her lower stomach and she thought it was going to burn her. Suddenly it all popped inside her, like the logs in a fireplace and she looked at Dylan with a mixture of surprise and pleasure on her face. Her back arched and he felt her muscles kiss his fingers as she gasped his name.

  He could not wait any longer and in one motion, he climbed on top of her and entered her slowly but firmly. She moaned softly and wrapped her hands around his neck. He looked down at her delicate face, illuminated by the fire in the fireplace and by a light from inside, and he kissed his bride. Her full pink lips parted for his tongue just as her body welcomed his cock.

  She felt so warm and slippery and tight around him that once again, he could not last and within a few strokes found himself releasing inside her with a low deep grunt. After he collapsed on top of her, she held him close to her body and tried to catch her breath.

  “Dylan, I could get used to this,” she murmured quietly into his ear.

  Her warm breath tickled and tempted his hips to keep moving, but he willed them to be still. He slid to one side and cupped her body into his, pulling the blanket back over them.

  “What would you like to do with the rest of your day?” he grinned down at her.

  She reached up and delicately brushed a stray curl from his forehead.

  “You tell me, my husband.”

  He rested his head next to hers on the pillow, and exhaled slowly.

  “Nothing but this.”

  Chapter Eight

  Over the next few weeks, winter crept up on the house, and the clansmen saw very little of Dylan or Victoria. They laughed at their own raunchy jokes about the newlyweds, but did not begrudge Dylan one moment of happiness or pleasure. The tiny blonde woman, when she did join them for meals or evening chats, had turned out to be quite the lively addition to the family, and had been accepted genuinely.

  One evening, the family was gathered by the large fireplace in the dining hall after dinner when Dylan and Victoria strolled into the room.

  “Aye, taking a break, are we?”

  Dylan smirked in the speaker’s direction, “You should be so lucky as to find a bride as enthusiastic.”

  Victoria laughed along with the crowd, growing more accustomed to their off-color jokes, and learning to like their easy banter and welcoming warmth.

  “My husband made me hungry, that’s all,” she taunted back.

  The house servant in the corner of the room scurried off to make two plates for the estate owner and his wife. She returned quickly with bowls of potato soup and plates of smoked ham and sliced cheese.

  The men chuckled as Victoria inhaled the food, “This girl will eat us into the poorhouse, my good fellow.”

  “I like a girl with an appetite, as long as the appetite always includes me.”

  Dylan pulled Victoria on top his lap and roughly kissed her lips, eliciting a moan only he could hear. And despite their lovemaking from just an hour ago, he felt that stirring in his groin that she seemed to relish. Under the cover of her skirts, she wriggled her hips a little against him and he nipped her lower lip between his teeth.

  She knew exactly what they would be doing back in their bedroom shortly, but first she wanted to enjoy the company of her new family. Two of the men nudged each other, and one dashed off only to return with a platter full of tiny cups brimming with amber liquid.

  “Time to show her what being a Scot is really about,” they grinned at the group conspiratorially.

  She eyed the platter suspiciously but looked to her husband, who was chuckling along with the group.

  Each person received their own tiny cup and as Victoria sniffed hers, she sneezed. The group laughed and Dylan patted her knee as she stayed on his lap. The men gulped the liquid down all in one swallow, but Dylan urged her to just sip it.

  Victoria took a small sip and coughed loudly as the liquid burned her throat.

  “You Scots are trying to kill me!” she wheezed.

  The group fell about themselves laughing and slapping Dylan’s shoulders.

  “That’s some good Scotch,” Dylan laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Try exhaling before you sip.”

  She tried once more, convinced her husband was in on the murder plot, but she exhaled as she sipped and it was a much different experience. This time, the heat warmed her throat and filled her belly and she beamed proudly at the group.

  “That’sa girl,” Dylan grinned, sliding his arm around her slim waist.

  After about a third of her glass was gone, she looked up to find the room spinning and the fire seemed to be expanding out of the hearth.

  “I think I’ve had enough,” she whispered loudly into Dylan’s ear.

  “That’s my cue, boys,” he crowed and scooped his wife up in his arms. “See you in the morning!”

  As he strode up the staircase with his tipsy wife in his arms, he bent down and kissed her firmly. She sighed softly and leaned into his embrace.

  “Dylan? Can we again?”

  He kissed her harder in response and quickened his steps to their bedroom.

  Their clothing came off in a flurry of cotton and they both snuggled under the quilt quickly. Dylan’s hands roamed freely over her skin and she arched towards his body. The heat from the Scotch already made her body warm from the inside, and his rough hands only enflamed her desire.

  In her tipsiness, she offered a confession to Dylan. “I was scared to come marry you, you know.”

  His teeth nipped her neck as his fingers teased her tight rosebud nipples.

  “Scared of little ol’ me?” he chuckled as he raked his nails lightly down her tummy.

  “You aren’t little at all, you’re enormoush!” she proclaimed, slurring slightly.

  “What every man has always longed to hear,” he basked in her unintended compliment.

  In one smooth motion, Dylan lay down on his back and pulled his beautiful naked wife on top of him. She braced her palms against his broad chest and sat up to look down at him.

  “We can do it like this?” Her voice was husky as she winked at him.

  “I’ll show you...”

  He reached up to cover her full breasts with his palms, and slid his hands down over her waist to rest on her hips. He carefully guided her
up into the air slightly, and then with a shift of his hips, he brought her back down on top of him.

  As her body slid down to envelop his hard cock, she gasped and moaned, letting her head fall back and her eyes drift closed. He held her down against himself and drove his hips up. Her body fit him like a velvet glove and he slid himself back out only to hurry back in. Over and over, his arm muscles twitched as he guided her petite frame up and down his cock until she let out a long low wail and shuddered on top of him. He grunted deep in his chest and released into her. She could feel each twitch and spurt and her own body seemed to absorb each motion and every drop.

  She finally collapsed on top of him, panting for breath and grinning in the dark.

  “The rest of my life? Right here?”

  “If you can handle it…” he smiled into her unruly blonde curls.

  He cradled her next to his warm body as they drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  As it always does, eventually the spring sunshine chased away the winter’s snow and cold and gloom. Victoria reveled in the Scottish countryside as it started to turn green and the little blossoms popped out on the trees and bushes.

  Abigail was more and more attentive, and Victoria was becoming annoyed. She was starting to feel like the petulant little girl that she had finally left behind. Have you written your parents? It was the same conversation every time. Not yet, there will be time, and I will see them beforehand.

  Dylan spent his evenings parading around the dining hall, virtually patting himself on the back. Victoria would simply roll her eyes and reach for another piece of bread. She knew that eventually her father would make his way to Dylan’s castle to discuss the spring and summer trade, and she hoped her mother would join him on the trip.

  By mid-April, the vegetable garden was well underway and the fields seemed thick with tiny baby lambs. Victoria loved to put on her oldest house dress and chase them through the meadows until Abigail hollered for her to stop.

  One morning, Victoria was getting ready in her room and Dylan stopped by after checking something with the horses.

  She sat at her vanity, her dressing gown clinging to her damp body and her blonde hair hanging in a wet curtain down her back.