Handfasted to the Bear: Reformed Rogues Book 2

by Elina Emerald

  “Aye, sweeting,” Brodie answered.

  “Are you sick?”

  “No, I’m not sick.”

  “Are you dying?”

  “No, I’m not dying. Iona, please let me speak to auntie Orla.”

  “Do you have the pox?”

  “Iona—” Brodie said with exasperation.

  “Mama says if men have the pox, they shouldn’t marry.”

  “Amelia what the devil have you been teaching my child?” Beiste yelled.

  “She’s our child Beiste, and she is just repeating what she hears, she doesn’t ken what it means,” Amelia retorted.

  “Will someone open this bloody door!” Dalziel growled. “We have a Keep full of people waiting around, someone is still trying to kill Orla and we dinnae have time for this.”

  “All right.” Orla sighed and opened the door.

  The men filed into the Solar except Brodie, who just stood in front of Orla.

  “What do you want, Brodie?” she asked.

  “You, only you and we are getting married right now.” Brodie hauled her over his shoulder and marched her down to the chapel, ignoring her protests.

  Beiste handed baby Colban to Amelia, then scooped her up in his arms and followed behind Brodie while Dalziel carried Iona down to the chapel.

  When they reached the chapel, Morag, Jonet and Sorcha were there to greet Orla.

  Morag spoke to Orla in a soothing manner. “Come now child, dinnae fight fate.”

  Orla saw the truth of it. She finally relented, despite her misgivings that Brodie did not love her.

  Amelia also relented and took Orla into a side chamber where Jonet and Sorcha had already prepared a wedding dress for her and bouquet.

  When Orla emerged, she looked resplendent in a long emerald green kirtle and embroidered surcoat. The dress hugged her figure and accentuated her breasts. She wore her hair down and Amelia provided her with a fine handmade gold chain around her neck.

  Orla entered the chapel, and it was full to overflowing with Clan members.

  As she walked down the aisle, she heard Iona gasp. “Auntie, you look like a faerie princess!”

  Orla saw Abbot Hendry smiling at the center of the altar. Then she saw Brodie. He had also changed into his plaid with his family crest badge. His hair was tied back, and he looked so handsome and eager to wed her. He stared at her, with want and need.

  It reminded her of the way Beiste always looked at Amelia.

  When Orla drew closer, Brodie reached out, pulled her to his side and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

  “Och, enough of that now. Wait until after the ceremony.” Abbot Hendry huffed, and the congregation laughed.

  The Abbot began with the blessings. Then it came time for the vows.

  Orla gave Brodie another chance to change his mind. “Brodie, you ken I can take care of myself. I am not yours to protect.”

  Brodie’s response was swift. He looked down at her. His voice was firm and commanding. “You are wrong. You have always been mine. And I have every right to protect what belongs to me.”

  Brodie knew it was time to convince her, and in a loud voice he began. “Orla, you were mine when you were six years old and came crying to me at the rowan tree because the others were teasing you.”

  Orla gazed at Brodie, astonished that he remembered.

  “You were mine when you were seven and I belted the lads for locking you in the dungeons.”

  “Brodie…” Orla whispered, remembering the incident like it was yesterday. It was why she was afraid of dark places.

  Relentless, he pushed on. “You were mine when you fell down the well at old man Mackenzie’s farm and I took the whipping for you because he warned us not to go there.”

  Orla felt tears welling in her eyes as the flood of memories came back to her.

  “You were mine when you were seven and a half and got lost in the caves because you were searching for faeries. I found you.” Brodie wiped the tears from her eyes with his thumb as they fell.

  “You were mine all the times you held my hand and sat with me after my Da beat me.”

  “You were mine when you were seventeen and I ignored you because you were so pure, I didn’t want to sully you with the vile man I had become.”

  “And you were mine, when you were eight years old and we handfasted in the woods, so you’d never be alone again.”

  Oral was astonished he remembered. She was shaking her head in disbelief.

  Brodie said, “We made an agreement that day that if you were not married when I returned, I would marry you and be with you forever. That day has come mo cridhe.”

  Little did Orla know that Brodie was about to shatter the walls of her resistance, removing the last barrier surrounding her fragile heart.

  Brodie took her right hand and entwined it with his. “You are still mine and I am yours, only yours, from this day forward. The past is gone, there will be no others between us because… I ‘Brodie the Bear Fletcher’ take you ‘Orla the Huntress’ as my wife. I am yours and you are mine from this day to eternity.”

  “What are you doing?” Orla mumbled as she felt something slide against her wrist.

  “Look at me, Orla. Say the words mo leannan, loud and clear.” Brodie urged. His hand was held fast to her.

  Orla spoke the words he longed to hear. “You are still mine and I am yours, only yours, from this day forward. The past is gone, there will be no others between us because I ‘Orla the Huntress’ take you ‘Brodie the Bear Fletcher’ as my husband. I am yours and you are mine from this day to eternity.”

  “Aye, tis done.”

  She turned and saw Abbot Hendry watching with a warm smile. “In the presence of God and witnesses I now give you an official church blessing.”

  Orla looked down and noticed her hand was in Brodie’s, but it was the tie that bound their wrists together which looked familiar. It was the same leather tie she had thrown over the cliff all those years ago. “But how?”

  “I followed you that day when you left the rowan tree. I climbed down and retrieved it. I have kept it all these years.”

  “Why?” Orla asked.

  “Because twas always my destiny to love you and for us to marry,” Brodie said.

  “I have always loved you Brodie Fletcher and even more so today. Dinnae make me regret it,” Orla whispered.

  “Never.”

  The Abbot made the sign of the cross then said, “By the power invested in me, I now declare ye husband and wife. Ye may kiss the bride.”

  Brodie did not hesitate, he wrapped his arms around Orla, pulled her close, bent his head and gently kissed her lips. It was a chaste kiss, but when it was over, they both felt breathless. They stood for a moment, their faces mere inches apart, just smiling at each another, oblivious to the rest of the world.

  And that was how Orla the Huntress, and Brodie the Bear became man and wife. Standing in a chapel among friends and family. Their handfast became a legal and binding marriage, and there was not a single dry eye in the place.

  ***

  One

  After a small celebratory supper in Amelia’s solar, Brodie and Orla finally retired to Brodie’s spacious chambers, which had now become theirs. He carried her over the threshold and closed the door behind them.

  He put her down beside the bed and just stared at her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld, and she was his. He wanted nothing more than to strip her naked out of that tempting dress. But Brodie was nervous. He had never been this nervous about coupling before.

  The difference was, this was his wife, not some quick forgettable tup in the woods. This was Orla, the woman he loved. He needed their first time to be memorable for her. It had to be incredible. The lovemaking reserved for only the greatest lovers. Brodie needed to bring her to monumental heights of ecstasy and pleasure. It needed to be perfection.

  But what if he could not satisfy her needs?

  What if she left him for that blasted Norse god?<
br />
  The doubt set in.

  Brodie decided he needed to kill Torstein first. He would get his sword go downstairs and slash a few cuts across that flawless face, so Orla never left him.

  Brodie panicked at the thought that maybe he could not satisfy his own wife. He started hyperventilating. His breath became shallow. He was feeling faint. The room started spinning. His legs gave way. He sat on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands holding his head as he tried to take in deep breaths.

  “Brodie! What is the matter? You look pale.” Orla crouched down beside him. “Do you have a fever?” She felt his forehead. “You feel cold. Do you need some warm cider?” Orla rushed over to the table and poured a drink and shoved it towards him. “Here, drink this.”

  Brodie took a gulp, then started spluttering and coughing. “Cho… king… cannot… breathe.”

  Orla slapped his back. “I’ll go get Amelia.” Her voice was rising in panic.

  “No!” he said.

  Orla knelt on the ground beside him. She took his face in her hands. “Brodie love, tell me what is wrong, what do you need me to do?”

  Brodie stared at his wife’s concerned face. She looked as if she were about to weep and all he saw was pure love shining back at him. The panic receded, and he calmed immediately and with the calm, came a ravenous hunger.

  Orla was the one getting nervous now. Brodie had gone quiet, and he was staring at her like he was a lion, and she was a succulent piece of venison.

  She stood and slowly backed away.

  Brodie got to his feet and now towered above her.

  “How many?”

  “What?”

  “How many men have you had?”

  “I dinnae think that’s…”

  “How many lovers?”

  “Brodie?”

  “Tell me!” He roared.

  “Dinnae yell at me husband.” She shouted back.

  He tilted his head, contemplating something. “Were they my men?”

  Orla gave him a wary look and folded her arms across her chest. “Why?”

  “Because after I make love to you, I’m going to kill them.”

  “Dinnae be ridiculous. If I were to do the same, for every woman you’ve swived, there wouldn’t be a female alive. If you dinnae want me because you think I am tainted, then—”

  The distance between them vanished as Brodie grabbed her. “You misunderstand me. I need to ken if this is your first time. If not, then I willna be gentle because my need for you is fierce. So again—"

  “One! You are not my first.”—Orla blurted out — “Twas a long time ago and I am not as well practiced as you.”

  Brodie wanted to kill the man that had touched her, but he had no right to hold her to standards he had not adhered to. “Then. I. Will. Be. Your. Last!” he said.

  He took her in a passionate embrace. “Open your mouth.” He growled.

  Orla did, as his tongue sought entry to caress hers. Brodie deepened the kiss, holding her head in place so she could not back away. “Get rid of that dress now, I dinnae want to ruin it.” He demanded and was panting, his eyes hooded.

  Orla undid the emerald kirtle until it lay in a pool on the floor. She stood before him wearing only her chemise.

  Brodie grabbed both sides of the material and rend it in two.

  She gasped, “That was my favorite chemise.”

  “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  Orla’s pert breasts were naked. Her nipples hardened as they contacted air. Brodie’s eyes raked her body as he removed his leine and then his plaid. He stood before her, naked and gloriously aroused. His manhood jutted out thick, long and hard. Orla just stared at all that was Brodie and marveled at the wonder of her husband.

  She licked her lips, and Brodie was undone.

  He moved so fast, throwing her over his shoulder, he walked to the bed in two strides and tossed her onto it. He then stood over her, memorizing every detail of her body. He was about to worship with his tongue.

  He lovingly gazed at every inch of her body. When his eyes rested on her darkened areolas framed by light brown skin, his length hardened. His hand followed his eyes as he pinched a nipple. His pale hand a stark contrast against her darker skin. Mine! Roared the possessive voice in his head.

  Brodie bent over her left breast and began suckling her nipple. Orla moaned as he lavished attention on her breasts, his mouth alternating between them. His hand glided down to the juncture between her thighs where she was slick and wet. He found her hooded pearl and applied pressure with his palm to cause the friction that had her moaning his name.

  Brodie took in his beautiful wife. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, her hands gripping the sheets as she ground against his palm.

  “Aye love, take your pleasure.”

  At his seductive words, Orla stiffened and came. Brodie thought it was the most sensual thing he had ever witnessed.

  He dropped to his knees beside the bed and kissed a path to her center. He spread her legs apart and laved her core twice with his tongue just to taste her. Then he stalked on all fours up the length of her body and lay on top of her, holding most of his weight on his forearms. He stared into her eyes and whispered. “I’m sorry I cannot take the time to do more love, I am fit to burst with need to be inside you.”

  Orla smiled languidly at him. Some of his hair had escaped the hair tie. She tucked it behind his ear and spread her thighs wider to accommodate his hips. She reached down between them and caressed his hard length. With a husky voice she whispered. “I love you, Brodie. I am yours.”

  Brodie removed her hand. “If you keep touching me, love, I willna last.” He kissed her delectable lips and rubbed his cock between her moist core to lubricate his hard length. He was a large and he did not want to hurt her.

  He could hear Orla beginning to gasp again as her hips thrust against his length, urging him to take her. She was becoming aroused. The most passionate lover.

  Brodie could not wait any longer. He had waited years for this moment. He placed the tip at her entrance and in one powerful surge he thrust his entire length to the hilt of her tight slickened sheath.

  Brodie groaned as Orla’s heat enveloped him completely.

  Orla started breathing in shallow gasps. Her arms wrapped tight around his torso; her hands gripped his shoulders as her hardened nipples rubbed against his chest.

  Brodie stilled. “Are you alright, love?”

  “Aye Brodie, I just feel so… full. You are verra big husband.”

  Brodie groaned as Orla started tightening her inner core muscles, massaging his length internally.

  “Blast it, woman, I’m going to spill if you keep doing that.”

  She gave him a sultry smile and kept doing it; she whispered. “Then move husband, I cannot do all the work.”

  Brodie needed no further encouragement as he began thrusting into her. “Och, we’ll see who does all the work, wife.”

  Their coupling became frenetic as Brodie thrust harder and faster, seeking release. Orla matched his pace, grinding her hips in unison with his as grunts and moans reverberated around the chamber. Finally, their bodies stiffened as Orla came hard raking her nails across his back and Brodie followed roaring his pulsating climax to the night sky as he emptied his seed into her tight shuddering heat.

  ***

  At Last

  In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Brodie lay replete in his bed and utterly satisfied. Orla safely tucked into his side, her head resting against his chest. He could not keep his hands off her. Touching and grazing, kissing, caressing. The need to feel her beside him and touch her skin, drink in her scent was so strong.

  Their first time together had been the best sex of his life bar none. He felt their connection soul deep. It was not merely physical, but emotional.

  What made it incomparable, to any other encounter in the past was love. That was the key ingredient to curing his dissipation. Love for the woman in his arms, his wife. It could
only get better from here.

  “What are you thinking of wife?” Brodie loved the sound of that word.

  “I was just wondering if you were happy with our coupling. I ken you have been with many women and I just hope that I was—”

  “You were the best I’ve ever had,” he said in all seriousness.

  Orla’s eyes softened.

  “And what of me Orla, did I satisfy you?”

  “Hmm, tis hard to say after only one time. I will probably need a few more sessions to decide.”

  Brodie burst out laughing, which had Orla giggling.

  “I jest, you were magnificent Brodie,” she said before planting a kiss to his chest.

  “I meant to tell you beforehand you dinnae need to worry. I am clean,” Brodie said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Amelia insisted she check my manhood for diseases.”

  “She what?” Orla said in shock.

  “Aye, she has kept a keen eye on my health these past two years and there was no way I was allowed to marry you if I carried an affliction.”

  “And Beiste let her look at your manhood?”

  “Aye, but he didn’t like it. They had a screaming match over me. I dinnae understand how he can be married to a Clan healer yet refuse to let her look at men’s parts.”

  “Would you allow me to scrutinize other men’s parts?” Orla asked.

  “Not if you wanted every one of them dead.” Brodie growled.

  Orla burst out laughing. “Now you ken how Beiste feels.”

  “You ken I have not been with any other woman since Ranalf attacked you?” Brodie said.

  “But that was over two summers ago.” Orla looked shocked.

  “No need to tell me. I’m the one who had blue balls for two summers. You ruined me for all others, Orla.”

  “You’ve been celibate all this time?”

  “Aye.”

  “Brodie you’re lying I saw you sneaking out of Zelda’s cottage that night in the woods.”

  He shook his head. “That night I had decided to give you up. You rarely gave me the time of day, and Beiste and Amelia were so protective of you. She was the first woman I sought, but it didn’t work.”

  “What didn’t work?”