What was it about this woman, her, that made him quake with a need that burned so hot he felt it to the bottoms of his feet, to the tips of his fingers? Why her?
She was not the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Nay, he’d travelled the world, had spent time in Italy and France where the women were cut from far different cloth than Leona. They wore their beauty without restraint, without demurring.
He’d also known more educated, refined and elegant women. Women who he had paid handsomely for their time to sate his lust.
But this woman, who stood on trembling legs, whose breath was ragged, who was clumsily returning each of his kisses? She was nothing like them. Mayhap that was it. She was the first woman who had ever come to him willingly without the request for a bag of coin.
And she was a virgin. No hands had ever roamed her body as his were now doing. No other man’s lips had kissed the soft, tender flesh of her neck. Of this, he had no doubt. Not even the most practiced and seasoned whore could feign such innocence blended with fear of the unknown.
But there was so much more than her inexperience and chastity that fueled the fire of eager lust making him as hard as granite. He knew this young woman, or at least a little part of her. She was brave, this bonny lass with the odd eyes and hair softer than any silk he’d ever touched.
He slipped the sleeves down over her shoulders, past her arms, and heard it swoosh as it fell to the floor. With other women, he had not bothered to explore their bodies. Nay, ’twas a simple act, a simple deed, meant only to slake his need.
But with Leona, he took his time, inch by slow inch, his fingers hooked under the fabric of her chemise. He caressed her leisurely, enjoying the softness of her skin as he drew the chemise over her shoulders, down her arms, to her waist. It landed on top of her dress, leaving her completely exposed to him. For him. Only him.
With other women, he’d never had to hold back. ’Twas always but a business transaction. He would plunge into them, find his release, and be gone within the hour.
But that was not what he wanted or needed with his wife. Inexplicably, he needed this to last. The realization unsettled him, made his fingers tremble, his pulse pound in his veins.
He pulled away then, fear seizing his heart. He watched as she slowly opened her eyes, her brow furrowed with confusion, her breaths ragged, her eyes filled with questions. Candlelight glanced off her dewy skin that was, at the moment, covered in gooseflesh.
“Have I done somethin’ wrong?” she asked with a good deal of trepidation.
His voice was lodged behind the knot in his throat. ’Twas next to impossible to form words. “Nay,” he whispered. Before she could speak again, he closed his mouth over hers.
She melted. In his arms. Never had any woman melted against him, not like this.
All at once, he didn’t know if he should feel proud or afraid. Proud that he was making her feel all these new and exciting sensations, or afraid he would end up losing his heart to her.
Pushing the fear away and replacing it with steely-eyed determination, he decided these odd feelings pounding in his heart were nothing more than the anticipation of taking his wife’s maidenhead. Wasn’t that it? And what if he ended up liking his wife? Would that be so bad? He didn’t suppose so. Nay, liking his wife was a perfectly acceptable emotion. He could like her, admire her, and even desire her. That did not mean she would ever have his heart.
Oh, his lips! The kiss! Hot and exciting sensations crawled through her veins, from her lips to her toes. This was not the same, tender kiss he’d give her at the altar. Nay, this was a kiss born of desire, passion, and need. Almost ravenously, he claimed her mouth with his. When he tickled her lips with the tip of his tongue, she parted her lips to ask a question, but the question fell away, along with any strength she had left in her legs.
Their tongues danced together, his sliding around hers as his hands found the small of her back, her buttocks, drawing her in closer.
There was no need to ask if he was enjoying the kiss. She could feel his hard, swollen member as it pressed against her belly.
With her dress and chemise puddled on the floor, he pulled away, leaving her cold and feeling … empty. When she finally found the courage to ask if she’d done something wrong, tears threatening behind her eyes, for a moment, she wanted to grab her clothes and flee the tent. But then he claimed her mouth once again.
His fingers felt hot against her chilled skin. They no longer felt calloused, but rather, soft as silk as they explored her shoulders, her arms, her waist. She prayed he’d not notice the scars on the small of her back, for she had no desire to explain how she’d come by them.
A moment later, he was scooping her off the floor and laying her on the small bed, his lips never leaving hers until she was prone. Then those magnificent lips left heated trails across her cheeks, down her neck, and back up again.
Rose had never mentioned anything about how this would feel. Nay, she’d spoken only in generalities. Positions, things that could be done with the tongue and hands. But never once had she mentioned how Leona would feel. Of how her womb would fill with an achy need, a need so intense she thought she’d go mad from it.
That need only intensified when he pulled the tunic over his head, leaving his chest bare. She could only marvel at it and stare in awe at its magnificence. When he began to loosen his sword belt, she closed her eyes tightly. He’d be naked in a thrice and no matter how bravely she went into this marriage, she hadn’t the courage to look there.
She wasn’t certain, but she thought she heard him chuckle, right before he climbed into the bed. It creaked and groaned under his weight. Or were those odd noises coming from her?
She’d just opened her eyes when his hands began another exploration. This time, he did not trace them down her shoulders. Instead, he cupped her cheek as he pressed his lips to hers once again. As her tongue danced eagerly with his, his fingertips trailed away down her neck, feeling as light as the wings of a butterfly. ’Twas difficult to breathe, to think, as her skin felt afire wherever his fingers roamed.
When he cupped her breast in his hand, ’twas shocking in both its intimacy and sheer unadulterated delight. Nay, no one had mentioned this. ’Twas probably a good thing, or she might have fainted from fright.
She lay there, stiff and uncertain, with no clear idea about what she should be doing. ’Twas nearly impossible not to sigh, not to suck in deep breaths, not to tremble.
She wanted to touch him. Wanted to trail her fingers across his chest, his back, but was uncertain if ’twas appropriate.
“Lass, are ye well?” he asked softly, stopping the tender caresses and kisses.
“Aye!” she blurted out.
His silence begged for further explanation. Moments passed before she added, “I be no’ certain what I am to do.” She felt her face grow warm with embarrassment.
He chuckled lightly. “Well, what would ye like to do?”
Keeping her eyes closed tightly, she replied, “Be it acceptable fer me to touch ye?”
“Aye, lass,” he chuckled again. “Perfectly acceptable.”
She let loose the breath she had been holding.
“Lass, I ask that ye make me a promise.”
Nodding her head rapidly, she agreed. “What promise?”
“To always be honest with me.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked into his. “Aye, I can do that.”
He met her answer with a warm smile. “At all times, in all circumstances. But especially when we be lovin’. I never want to do anything that ye do no’ wish fer me to do.”
His request made her heart beat even faster. In that small instant, she knew without a doubt that he would never hurt her. There was something magnificent in knowing that and feeling … safe. For the first time since her mother died, she felt safe.
Feeling safe lead to the ability to enjoy, albeit slightly fearfully, all these new sensations flooding throughout her body. Sensations she had never felt
before. Odd and exciting all at once. Sensations she wanted very much to explore and understand.
Her promise made, he went back to kissing her. Tenderly, sweetly, slowly. As he plied her with those sweet kisses, she eagerly touched his shoulders with her fingertips. Feeling more brazen, she trailed them over and down his back. When he sucked in a deep breath, she was prepared to stop, until she realized he sounded much like herself and took his response to mean he enjoyed her touch.
His skin was soft, yet hard. Goose-fleshed, yet hot.
As she trailed her fingers up his back, he moved his downward, along her side. Gently, his palm glided down her thigh, her calf, and back up again. Cupping her breast, he smiled when she gave a low moan of pleasure.
“God’s teeth,” he whispered, low and deep against her neck. “Ye are beautiful.”
Beautiful? Her heart skipped several beats. No man had ever said that before. A few of the womenfolk here had told her she was just as beautiful as Rose. But ’twas always a comparison to Rose, never Leona on her own merits. Which often left her to wonder, if she didn’t look so much like the woman everyone adored, would they still think the same?
She knew not what to say, how to respond to his sweet words. Oh, how she wanted to let the tears fall, to thank him, to tell him something intelligent or sweet in return. But when he took the tip of her breast into his mouth, her mind went completely and utterly blank.
’Twas a most peculiar yet thrilling, sensation, his tongue circling the taught peak. Drawing in a deep breath, she held it for a long moment before expelling it in a soft, low hiss.
He caressed her stomach before slowly gliding his hands downward. When he reached the apex of her legs, his gentle touch nearly sent her flying from the bed. Alec let out a slight chuckle. “Wheesht, lass,” he whispered against her breast. “Relax. I believe ye will find it most enjoyable.”
Good lord, she screamed silently. Enjoyable? ’Twas beyond that, beyond anything she could have imagined. With deft fingers at the apex of her legs, his mouth on her breast, she was soon discovering just what a woman’s release was.
Until this night, he never thought he could find such pleasure with a woman. It went beyond the physical delight, to something he was unable to name, to describe. Listening to her soft sighs, her gentle moans, he dared open his eyes to watch as she found her release for the first time. Aye, there was pleasure to be found there, to know ’twas he who was showing her the way to the age-old delight to be found betwixt man and woman.
Unable to hold back any longer, he did not wait for her to catch her breath.
Joining with her husband was nothing at all as she had imagined. It went well beyond exciting and thrilling to something she could neither put a name to or describe in any manner that would make sense.
Alec had been patient, kind, and generous in all regards. And aye, he made certain she found her release before he found his own. Not once, not twice, but three times.
All the while, he whispered words of encouragement, tender words, remarking on her beauty, the softness of her skin, how intoxicating he found her scent to be. It had been impossible for her to return his compliments, to form words had been impossible. The only thing she had managed to say was his name. Repeatedly.
After they found their release together, Alex collapsed on top of her, his breath ragged, sounding as if he’d just run all the way from Edinburgh. His hair, damp with sweat, clung to his forehead and neck.
Leona was not in any better a state. She lay there, out of breath, stunned, happy, confused, elated. Nay, neither Rose or the other women had mentioned any of this, of how magnificent it all would be.
After a long while, Alec rolled onto his back, his breaths slowing to a more tolerable pace. Instinctively, she knew he had enjoyed himself, but she had a need to hear him say as much. Before she could put the question to voice, he was slipping his arm under her waist and drawing her to his side. With a happy sigh, she rested her head against his chest as she rested a palm against his stomach.
They lay there in silence, with Leona listening to his heart pound. A thousand questions and a thousand things she wanted to say tumbled about in her mind. Had she the courage, she would have asked, “Did ye enjoy that as much as I?” “Did I truly please ye?” “Will ye keep me?”
A long while passed before she realized he had fallen asleep. ’Twas probably a good thing, for if she had been brave enough or had possessed the energy to speak, she might have spoiled the mood entirely. No matter, she told herself. Ye can always ask him next time. Mayhap in the morn.
Chapter 5
’Twas just past dawn when Alec woke. It took only a moment to remember where he was and who he was with. And only another moment before he was fully awake and hard as granite with need.
Now, on the one hand, she had eagerly participated in their lovemaking the night before. He was her husband, she his wife. ’Twas perfectly natural and acceptable for him to want to take her again. And again. And yet again.
But on the other hand, his heart warned against it. ’Twas a dangerous road he was on, lusting after a wife. Such things as desire could only lead to his utter ruin. It had happened to his father, and his father before him. They’d given their hearts to women, only to have them destroyed.
So as much as he ached with need and desire, he refused to act on either. But God’s teeth, she was beautiful. Lying next to him, naked under the blankets, her hair falling around her like honey spilled from the jar. The sound of her soft breaths, so much different from the ragged breathing last night. Her lashes kissing her cheeks. She was a sight to behold.
Cursing under his breath, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. She was dangerous, this seductive, beautiful lass. More dangerous than an asp, or a horde of sword-wielding Highland warriors.
Taking deep breaths, he raked a hand through his hair, stood and hurried to dress. The sooner he got his wife to the Bowie keep, the better.
When Alec woke Leona just after dawn, it took only a moment to get her bearings, to remember where she was.
“Ye need to dress, lass. ’Tis time to leave.”
Leave? Nay, she wanted to stay and sleep a few more hours, and have him love her again, as they’d done last night. She’d almost put her objection to words, when he patted her bottom. “We have a long journey ahead. Come now.”
Begrudgingly, she pulled the blankets up to cover her chest, sat up, and swiped the sleep from her eyes. “Do we have to leave so soon?” she asked, wishing she could crawl back under the covers.
“Can we no’ stay another day?” She tried to manage a come hither look but apparently failed.
“I have many pressing duties back at my keep,” he said as he left her side. Standing at the entrance of the tent, he stared at her for a long moment. “I do no’ like to be kept waiting.” Giving her a curt nod, he left the tent.
Was that a word of warning? He had mentioned he preferred late nights over early mornings. Mayhap he was just grumpy.
Deciding it best not to test the limit of her husband’s patience on only their second day of marriage, she hurried through her morning ministrations, rummaged through her trunk for her dark green wool gown, and dressed quickly. She slipped the apron over her dress, twined her hair into a long braid, shoved her feet into boots and packed up her comb and nightdress.
She didn’t believe she had taken too long to ready herself. But when she stepped out into the morning sun and saw her husband waiting by his horse, she began to wonder. His face bore the oddest expression. “I hurried,” she said as calmly as she could.
She wondered if she would always find him so handsome? His broad shoulders appeared as though they were trying to escape the confines of his dark blue tunic. She felt her face grow warm while she took her slow perusal. Black leather trews were stretched tightly over his thighs. Thighs she knew to be dusted with dark hair. Hair that had tickled her skin to the point of madness only hours earlier.
“Lass,” he called to her, disturbing
the lustful images bombarding her mind. “We must no’ tarry.”
Swallowing back her embarrassment, she asked, “May I say goodbye to Rose?”
He rolled his eyes and let out a quick breath. He supposed they should thank their hosts for the wedding, the ceremony, and the use of the tent.
“Verra well, but we must be quick about it.”
When she smiled at him, as she was doing right now, it set his nerves on edge. Not because ’twasn’t a beautiful, brilliant smile. ’Twas because it was. And it unsettled him when he realized the effect it had upon his groin, his mind, as well as his heart. Aye, she was a dangerous woman, his wife.
Cursing his ardor as well as his heart, he handed the reins to his horse off to Kyth and went to say thank you and goodbye to their hosts.
What should have taken only a moment or two, ended up taking nearly an hour. ’Twas a teary-eyed goodbye shared betwixt his wife and her cousin. He could live to be a thousand years old and would never understand women.
“I shall miss ye terribly,” Leona cried as she and Rose hugged each other tightly. “And wee John as well!”
The babe chose then to begin wailing. Alec had absolutely no experience with babes, bairns, or weans. Aye, he had a few nephews, but they were older and he’d missed their births and early years. Nay, they were older and far more quiet.
The sound grated on his ears, setting his teeth on edge. But then something utterly unexpected happened when his wife picked the babe up from his cradle and held him in her arms.
“Wheest, now, laddie,” she cooed as tears streamed down her cheeks.
If he weren’t so terrified of losing his heart to the beautiful woman he’d married, he might well have enjoyed watching her with the babe. And she was beautiful. Too damned beautiful.
The Bowie Bride: Book Two of The Mackintoshes and McLarens Page 5
