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The Laird's Kidnapped Bride

Page 7

by Mysty McPartland


  Pleased with herself, her gaze rose to the gaping priest and wondered what the matter with him. She swiveled her head and noticed he wasn’t the only one with his mouth hanging open; the handsome rogue beside her was doing the same. “Have ye taken leave of yer senses, ye big galoot?” She whispered harshly and watched him shake his head.

  Coming out of his daze, Cameron cleared his throat and gave his attention back to Father Ryan. “Ye may continue, father.” He had never heard such outrageous wedding vows before, and he could understand why the priest was so bewildered.

  She had really done it now, she thought miserably as she was swept off her feet and her husband’s mouth played lightly over hers. Once again she was struck by the odd feelings and was glad when the kiss was over. The worst was yet to come, and she knew the only way she could survive it was by getting sotted. She was deaf to all the cheering going on in the great hall as she was guided over to the table and into her chair. Straightaway she reached for the goblet half full of wine and gulped it down. She poured herself another one from the jug on the table. Dear God, what had she done? She could barely believe she’d gone through with it. Was she completely demented?

  And what about her father? How was he going to react when he learned what she had done? He would probably beat her black and blue, then disown her for ruining his plans. She continued to sip from her cup as she worried over the problem. He was going to hate giving up her large dowry and would most likely try to find some way not to pay it. She had no idea what wealth the McCloud had, but by rights the money and property were owed to him. She worried her bottom lip and wondered if she should mention it to him, but glancing at him and seeing him in deep conversation with the priest, decided to wait for another time to bring up the subject.

  Her gaze skimmed over the hall and saw everyone laughing and drinking. At least someone was happy with the marriage, she thought despondently. She slumped further into her chair after she refilled her mug. All she could hope for was that the feast would go on until late into the night. She was definitely not looking forward to retiring. Her whole body shuddered at what awaited her in the marriage bed. No, she’d better not think about it. She’d end up in bedlam if she continued. Glumly she continued to watch the crowd as she sipped more wine. Unwanted, a picture of her naked husband filled her mind. Dread tied her stomach into knots at the thought of him stabbing the large apparatus inside her. It would probably hurt her tremendously and might even split her in two.

  Just the thought of how painful it was going to be made beads of sweat break out on her brow. Her lashes fluttered down, hiding the fear that was starting to ripple through her. With a trembling hand, she lifted the mug of wine and gulped down the contents. How was she ever going to suffer through the horrendous act without screaming in agony and losing her mind? Even if she managed to live through the unbearably painful act, she probably wouldn’t be able to leave the bed for months. If he didn’t tear her in two, she doubted she would even have the strength to walk. Perhaps it would be a better idea if she got him sotted instead of herself. If he was drunk enough, he wouldn’t be able to perform. She pondered the idea for several long minutes and decided it was a far better course of action.

  However, she would have a few more glasses of wine for courage first. She tipped her shoulders and sipped again from her goblet. Through the veil of her lashes, she peeked up at the big oaf who was now her husband and grimaced. What he had to talk about at such length to the priest was anyone’s guess; whatever the conversation was about, it certainly displeased him, if the sour expression on his handsome face was anything to go by. And that was another thing. She still couldn’t believe that this striking, gorgeous man was the same stinking oaf she had first met. It was unbelievable that under all that dirt and hair was a truly sensational-looking man.

  At least now he didn’t smell so offensive. She supposed she could be grateful for that, if nothing else. She would probably have been sick all over him again if he still stunk. He had a nerve, though, to tell her he was displeased with the way she smelt. Ha! At least she washed regularly. Slowly her gaze moved around the hall and for the first time noticed some effort had been made to clean it. Did her derogatory remarks about the uncleanliness of his home wound his pride? Perhaps there was some hope for him after all and he wasn’t really a slow-witted dullard after all. Not that she cared one way or the other, but it would be less of an embarrassment to her if her husband had a few brains and some common sense.

  She supposed it would be her duty now to take over the caring of his home, and she wrinkled her nose at the thought of all the scrubbing that would have to be done. Lord, it would probably take her months to accomplish turning the whole keep into a pleasant and clean place to live. She also intended to approach the women of the clan, because she hoped they would be easier to persuade to take baths and wear clean clothing. She didn’t want to offend anyone, but dear heavens! It would be better than smelling the stench of their unwashed bodies every day. Even now, she could smell the foul body odor filling the hall. She didn’t know how exactly she was going to go about it, but come hell or high water, she was going to try.

  If her husband could change, so could everyone else. A little soap and water never hurt anyone. Tomorrow she would see about having a large batch of soap made before she started to tackle the hall. At least she supposed she would keep busy, and that was much better than sitting around, twiddling her thumbs and being bored to death. The sound of laughter and raised voices grew louder, bringing her out of her pondering. She finished of the rest of her wine and poured another, hoping to kill the dread sitting in the pit of her stomach.

  Chapter Five

  Cameron spent several exasperating minutes trying to calm Father Ryan down after the service. The priest wasn’t certain that the ceremony was official after the bride refused to agree to all the vows. He was relieved when he finally convinced the poor man. Dragging his fingers through his hair, he shook his head. He couldn’t blame the poor fellow, really. Even he was still stunned over everything that had come out of the wee lass’s mouth. He’d witnessed a few weddings over the years, and none of the brides had challenged her vows. Ah, well, what did he expect? He knew she was a stubborn puss. He swiveled around and his eyebrows shot up when he found her slumped miserably in her chair, pouring herself more wine. He swiftly snatched up the jug and held it out of her reach. Ignoring her sour scowl, he sat down beside her.

  Hefting the jug, he grimaced at finding it half-empty. He placed it on the table out of her reach before he returned his attention to her. “Ye willna be getting sotted tonight, wife.” If she thought she could drink herself into oblivion, she could think again. He wanted her sober and coherent when they fell into bed. He wanted her to remember every kiss, every touch and every stroke he drove in to her body. He wanted it branded into her memory for the rest of her life. He knew by her frown of dissatisfaction that she wasn’t happy, but, well, that was too bad. Tonight was their wedding night and he intended to make it as pleasurable for her as he could.

  A pout of displeasure pinching her mouth, Lark narrowed her eyes as they snapped in anger. “I have nae intenshion of getting shotted, ash ye put it, ye mutton-headed worm.”

  He rolled his eyes at her slurred words. With any luck, once she had eaten something, she should sober up. He waved to one of the maids, signaling her to commence the feast. When the dishes arrived, he made certain to put a fair amount on their shared trencher and was satisfied when she started eating with gusto. While the meal progressed, he could not forget the moment he saw her coming down the staircase. Her bearing had been so regal, her beauty outshining, and her brilliance was blinding in the gold wedding gown. He knew that she had found him attractive when she first noticed him. He could see it clearly in her admiring gaze. It was only when she learnt that he was her betrothed that she was shocked.

  Aye, it had been worth the effort to trim his hair and shave off his beard, though he felt as bare as a babe without having hi
s face covered in hair. He rubbed at his hairless jaw and shrugged to himself. It wouldn’t take him long to regrow it. Out the corner of his eye, he watched his new wife and noticed she was still eating. Good. He wanted her clear-headed when he took her to bed. He knew she must be frightened over what was going to happen, but with some luck, he hoped to ease her fears. He’d been waiting for this from the moment she had arrived and he had first gazed upon her. Now, though, he best keep his thoughts on something else besides rutting with her. He gazed on the happy faces of his clan and smiled. They would be celebrating until late into the night. They’d been waiting for him to claim his bride and bless them with an heir.

  Taking a sip of his own cup of wine, he leaned back in his chair and rested his arm on the table as he studied his wife’s pure porcelain complexion. Though he hated the thought, he could understand other men wanting her. A man had to be blind not to see her exquisite loveliness. Aye, this woman would give him pleasure and joy, he did not doubt it. She pleased him in every way. He grimaced, knowing that he should have claimed her years ago. They would have had two or three babes by now and it had been a waste to have lost so much. There was no way he could make up for the time they had lost together, but he wasn’t going to lose any more. He would do everything possible to make certain they would have a long and happy life together.

  He did not want to think about what he would do if he lost her; he intended to make sure she was coddled and protected. He would not let her overtax herself with household chores. She was too tiny and delicate to do any harsh work, and he would do everything he could not to let her be struck down by any illness. Suddenly his despondent thoughts were broken into when someone yelled for the piper. Tables and benches were shoved out of the way and a grin creased his face when the steady sound of the bagpipes’ drones filled the air. Cheers rang loudly around the hall and as the piper began a jig, most of the clan started dancing. Catching the joyful mood, Cameron surged to his feet, grabbed his wife’s hand and drew her up. He could see her about to protest, but he didn’t give her chance and tugged her to join the dancers with him.

  Though he could see the reluctance in her eyes when they first started the lively jig, it wasn’t long before she wore a smile that would outshine the sun. His blood pounded through his veins as they danced. His arms slipped around her waist and drew her up against his body, his hand cupped the side of her face as he lowered his head. His mouth covered hers in a searing kiss and instantly his body responded. He pulled his head back, and, shouting the battle cry of his clan, he swept her up in his arms and raced towards the staircase. With shouts of approval from his people, he hurried up the stairs and into their chamber. The door closed and secured, he carried her into the bedroom and tumbled down on the mattress with her still in his arms.

  When he saw the terror in her eyes, his hand came up and stroked gently down the side of her head. “Dinna fear, sweeting. I promise ye everything will be all right.” His mouth captured hers and he forced himself to hold back. Tenderly his lips played over hers as his hand caressed over her back, tracing the indention of her spine. No matter how much he wanted to strip her naked and drive his aching cock inside her, he had to take it slow. His hand cupped the cheek of her bottom and pressed her against his fierce arousal. She stiffened for only a moment before she relaxed and started to kiss him back. His tongue glided over her closed mouth and when she gasped in shock, slipped it inside. A few heartbeats later, like a flash of lightening, she exploded in his arms.

  The taste of her was sinful pleasure and he couldn’t stop himself from feasting on the sweetest flavor he’d ever enjoyed. Her tongue tangled with his in the dance of passion. She writhed against him as though she wanted to crawl inside him. He had barely touched her, and yet her desire and hunger was unmistakable. It drove his desperation to be inside her even higher. His fingers worked at the laces on the back of her gown. Even though he wanted her so badly he wanted to simply shove up her dress, flip up his kilt and bury himself inside her, he knew he had to do this right. This was no meaningless coupling. This was his wife, and she deserved her first time to be utterly special, a keepsake to be treasured. He was going to make absolutely certain it was going to be perfect for her, even if it killed him.

  Still making love to her mouth, he managed to divest her of her clothing and strip off his own. Now his hard, solid body was pressed against such soft silken flesh he thought he had died and gone to heaven. Never had he felt anything so tantalizing and smooth. Though her mouth was pure temptation, he reluctantly pulled back, and shifting, he let his gaze drink in the amazing, enticing, lush little figure. He sucked in his breath at the sight of her pert, round breasts topped with hard, dark pink nipples. Her slender waist and tantalizing, flaring hips. Swallowing hard, his eyes drifted lowered to the soft dark curls between her thighs. Already they were glistening with her arousal. Mother of God, he was on the verge of coming just looking at such amazing beauty.

  His attention was caught when she started to grow restless, and his hand came up and cupped her cheek. “Ye are the most bonny lass, dearling.” He saw her glazed, passion-filled eyes light up as he lowered his head and captured her mouth again. He had to make certain he kept command of his body, but it was a struggle. His hand caressed over her small form, learning every sensual dip and curve. His mouth left hers, leaving kisses along her jaw line and down the length of her neck. He hovered over the beating pulse for a moment until he moved down and finally captured one of those teasing, pouting nipples in his mouth. He palmed her breast as he suckled the succulent fruit ravenously. Her response was everything he could have asked for and more. He moved his mouth to its mate and lavished it with attention as well.

  With one hand, he skimmed down her body and rested on the nest of curls between her thighs. He knew that if he wasn’t inside her soon, he would go mad. Her purrs, her moans, her butterfly touches over his body were making him crazed. He parted the damp folds and stroked lightly along her center. She bucked and cried out, rendering him nearly mindless. His thumb caressed the bundle of nerves as he eased a finger inside her. She erupted with a fierce jerk of her hips and threw one leg over his thigh. She wiggled and thrust up off the bed. Enough! Dear God, he couldn’t take any more, she was dripping with her arousal for him, and he wanted her so badly he could not wait any longer. One last lingering suck on her breast, he nipped the nipple with his teeth, then laved it with his tongue.

  He rose above her and settled between her thighs. Her face shone with her desire, her eyes were filled with hunger and her mouth was bruised and wet from his kisses. The sight sent his lust sky high. He captured her parted lips, and as he thrust his tongue inside, he slipped the head of his raging cock into the snug passage. She was so tight, so damp, and God help him, so silky smooth. His hips gave another jerk and he slipped in another inch. His hands caressed her body, palmed her breasts and his mouth continued to plunder hers. He sank in another inch and came to the barrier that would take away her innocence forever and make her his for all time. He hesitated, though, knowing that no matter how much he readied her body for his invasion, he would still cause her some pain, and he was loathe to hurt her.

  One flex of his hips and he would lay claim to her for eternity, but for several heartbeats, he paused. When her hips started to thrust up, he growled into her mouth and with a jerk of his body, drove himself home. He swallowed her cry of pain and his kiss became tender as his fingers brushed lightly over her brow. His mouth left hers as he placed affectionate kisses over her face and along her jaw line. In between, he whispered soothing words, but all he could think about as he lay still was that if this was paradise on earth, he was staying forever. However, the raging need inside him was building, demanding to be sated. Slowly he eased nearly all the way out of her, only to sink back in to the hilt. A raw, animal groan tore from his throat over the unmitigated pleasure that shot through him.

  Twice more he repeated it before she started moving beneath him. He was aware of her nails
clawing at his back, but he felt no pain. He swept an arm beneath her, and when he plunged back into the fiery depth of ecstasy, showed her how to respond. It was only then that he lost himself completely. All his control evaporated, and instead of being gentle, he pounded into her like a madman trying to reach the gates of heaven. When her cries of fulfillment filled the air and she tightened around him, he could no longer hold back. Her delicate body spasmed beneath him and she was flooded with liquid fire as she came. His bollocks tightened and his body went taut as his own climax rushed through him.

  It all but stopped his heart, his mind was blank and he blacked out as his release swept through him with such devastating force that it nearly made him swoon. His hips continued to rock, but he was oblivious to anything else except the unmitigated ecstasy washing through him. When the last of his seed drained out of him, he was so weakened that he collapsed. His heart was pounding so hard he thought he might expire, he could barely breathe and his mind was complete mush. It was only the small fists beating at him that managed to bring a little sanity back. Forcing strength into his weakened limbs, he succeeded in lifting himself up and rolling off his wife. He collapsed on his back and wondered what in the hell just happened to him. No other female had ever managed to give him so much rapturous pleasure that it left him mindless.

  If he weren’t feeling so weak and boneless, he would give a male shout of gratification over the immense pleasure he had found in his wife’s arms. To come inside the vessel of a woman’s body was as close to paradise on earth as he would ever come. He was glad, though, that he had never accomplished it with another wench. It was something special and he was glad that he had saved it to share with his wee little kitty. Aye, the experience he had shared with her this very eve would hold a special place in his heart for the rest of his life and beyond. Though he would like to share it again, he knew that after her first time, she would be too tender for any more lovemaking. Och, and that was what is was, nae swiving, nae rutting, but the pure and joyful righteousness of making love between two people who would share the rest of their lives together.

 

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