Her Accidental Highlander Husband (MacKinlay Clan)

by Allison B Hanson

  “You don’t really snore,” he said as his lips found her neck.

  “I don’t mind that you take the blankets,” she confessed. “It means I get to snuggle against you while you sleep.”

  He raised his head to look at her with a sly grin. “I steal the blankets so you have no choice but to sleep closer against me.”

  “You naughty—” She didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence because he was kissing her again. Gentle kisses intentionally kept away from the side of her mouth that was cut.

  She hadn’t noticed he’d moved her backward until the backs of her thighs touched the edge of the bed.

  The bed.

  She knew what would happen next. Or what should.

  When she tensed, he backed away, giving her room. “What is it? Did I hurt ye?”

  She almost cried at the difference between the two men she’d married. One constantly worried he’d hurt her when he had not, while the first had hurt her deliberately over and over with no regret.

  However, that was not what worried her at the moment. She had braved an argument with Cameron only to end up faced with the next problem.

  The marital bed.

  It had always been the source of her late husband’s anger, but she didn’t want to risk turning Cameron away. He’d told her she could tell him anything and he wouldn’t be angry. But certainly he had expectations now. She did not want to disappoint him.

  There was no time to write it in a letter. She’d have to figure out a way to communicate her concerns.

  Instead of speaking, she reached for him and drew him down to kiss her again. Because of his response to her, she felt more powerful than she ever had before. She had initiated this kiss and it was wonderful.

  They got caught up again in their kiss. Her earlier worries faded slightly as passion took over.

  “I want you,” he whispered. “Can I remove your shift?”

  The fact that he asked meant the world to her. She nodded, even as her heart sank. Things between them would change as soon as he saw her body.

  She expected him to reach for her immediately, but instead he removed his own shirt, freeing it from his waistband and pulling it over his head in one fluid movement. He smiled and stepped closer. She looked up from the sight of his sculpted chest into his happy, golden eyes. Slowly he reached for her.

  It felt so good when her body didn’t automatically flinch away. If he took it slowly enough, perhaps she could control those negative reactions after all.

  He tugged up her gown and pulled it over her head. She couldn’t help but cover her chest with her arms, yet another thing her body did without her permission.

  Gently he took her wrists in his hands and drew them aside so he could look at her. His head tilted to the side, and his eyes narrowed on her breasts.

  Oh, God. Here it comes—the disgust, the revulsion.

  She tried desperately to cover herself, but he didn’t release her hands.

  A familiar panic began to rise at being held. Her heart pounded, and she had to take a deep breath to remain calm. This was Cameron. He would release her. She only needed to ask.

  She didn’t.

  “Do they hurt you still?” His voice cracked as his gaze lingered on the scars across her breasts.

  “No. They are years old,” she said, her face flaming.

  “I wish the bastard wasna already dead so I could have the pleasure of killing him myself.”

  The vehemence of Cameron’s vengeance didn’t scare her. He was a war chief, a fierce warrior who had killed men. Yet, she was not afraid of him. At least not at the moment.

  “He was my enemy,” she said quietly, as she’d told Kenna.

  “Aye. I hope someday you will stop having to fight him in your dreams.”

  He spoke of her nightmares and the fear that still lived in her mind and in the way her body responded.

  “I do not fear you, Cameron MacKinlay.” She lifted her chin to show her courage. It was the truth, she wasn’t afraid of physical harm.

  However, she was worried about what would happen next.

  He kissed her as his fingers loosened her braid and tangled in her hair. She reached up, placing her hands on his broad shoulders, his neck and shoulder muscles moving under her palms as he bent to kiss her. Such power harnessed by such a kind heart.

  She gasped in surprise when he touched her breasts, lifting them into his hands and kneading them tenderly. It was…pleasant, but she felt acutely self-conscious about all the scars.

  Then he went to his knees before her and kissed her stomach, her abdomen, and breasts, and her thoughts scattered in a flood of pleasure. He paid special attention to her left breast, where the nipple was twisted and puckered.

  She’d expected him to be disgusted when he saw her naked, but his groan of need told her otherwise. He truly didn’t mind the scars. He stood, and the hardness of his arousal pushed against her through his kilt.

  She didn’t want the barrier of fabric between them any longer. Reaching for his belt, her fingers trembled as she made short work of the buckle. His kilt dropped to the floor with a thump. She was both too afraid to look and too excited not to.

  She glanced down and wished she hadn’t. She swallowed in alarm, but he just chuckled with a smug grin.

  “Not only was he an evil bastard, but he was lacking as well, aye?” He shook his head. “Nay, I’m sorry. I don’t want thoughts of him between us. I’ll take care of you, Mari. I promise, we will get on well together, and it will be better than it ever was.”

  She nodded in firm agreement. He didn’t know how right he was.

  Now was the time to tell him the truth.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cam was still berating himself for his smugness. But when he saw the surprise on Mari’s face when she looked upon him naked, he hadn’t been able to help himself.

  He’d heard English men were hung like twigs, and her shock proved it must be so.

  She pulled back to look down at him again and swallowed. He waited for her to speak. It was clear she wanted to say something.

  Whatever it was, he would soothe her concerns so he could make her his wife in every way. He would care for her and see to her pleasure. Something it was clear her prig of a husband hadn’t done.

  The scars on her breasts were made with a savage blade by someone with a callous heart. She’d covered her breasts again, and he thought maybe she was still self-conscious of her marks.

  With his kilt already on the floor thanks to his wife, he tugged off his boots. He moved the candle closer, setting it on the stand beside the bed so the light splashed across his chest, enhancing his own scars.

  “I am marked by battle as well. Our scars are proof we have faced horrible things and lived.” He took her hands and gently pulled them away to place them on his chest. Her cool skin caused a shiver against his heated flesh. “Don’t ever be ashamed. You are beautiful.”

  She smiled briefly before focusing intently on him. Her fingers traced over his many scars. Some were no more than nicks and scratches along the surface of his skin. Some were deeper wounds he’d thought might end him.

  “You are beautiful as well, husband.” She frowned. “I hope you are not offended. I guess that was not an appropriate compliment for a man.” She licked her lips nervously. Not in the seductive way some of the lasses in the village did it.

  He knew she was no longer afraid of him in the physical sense. But he could see she was uneasy about the act they were moving toward.

  “I am not offended,” he reassured her as he took her trembling hand and held it tight against his heart. “If ye don’t want to do this, we won’t. We have plenty of time to make sure you’re comfortable.”

  She winced and glanced away. “That’s just it. I don’t think it’s possible for me ever to be comfortable.”

&
nbsp; “Did he hurt you in that way as well?” Cam asked.

  He’d not considered that possibility. Probably because the thought of anyone forcing her repulsed him. He stepped back. He’d not add to her pain. His needs were nothing when compared to her anxiety.

  She shook her head. “No, that’s the thing. He never touched me in that way. I am still a— I’m a virgin.”

  …

  Cameron stepped away from Mari so fast one might think she was infested with fleas. Her heart hurt at his reaction, but his shock quickly changed to confusion.

  “But… You were married for years.”

  “Yes. And throughout all the horrific days of our life together, he never consummated our marriage.”

  Cameron looked skeptical. She didn’t blame him; it did seem impossible. That someone so horrid had not taken liberties was one of the few things she had to be thankful for in the years of her marriage.

  “I may not know exactly what goes on between a man and wife, but I know enough that I’m quite sure it never happened. Especially since my late husband never spent a moment in my bed.”

  Cam nodded and looked at her breasts again. This time she didn’t attempt to shield herself from his gaze. He’d told her not to be ashamed. She wasn’t.

  He walked around her, and she trembled under his gaze.

  “You’re perfect, Mari. I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful in my life.”

  He made his way around to her front. He didn’t flinch or skim over looking at her chest; instead, his eyes paused in their movement and he reached out to caress the side of her breast.

  “I’m far from perfect.” She’d hardly seen herself in years, always looking away whenever she was naked in front of a looking glass.

  “I know ye may hate what the scars mean to you, but they don’t detract from your beauty. Instead, I see strength and courage. I’m so glad you didn’t let him win. I would have missed out on knowing you.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek when she thought of how close a thing it had been.

  Cameron kissed the tear away and kissed her lips briefly. He stepped even closer and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist.

  Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against hers. “I do not wish to speak of him again tonight, unless you need to tell me something. I feel we have been given a great gift. This first time for you will belong only to us. That is, if you wish to continue.”

  “I do,” she said shyly.

  He raised his head and smiled down at her. “My brave lass.”

  He brushed her long hair back and rested his hands upon her shoulders. “We’ll ease our way through this together. I’ll trust you to tell me if I do something you like or don’t like. That way, we can slowly learn one another and build upon the enjoyment.”

  She nodded. Impatient to get underway, she stood on tiptoe so she could reach his lips.

  His tongue reached into her mouth, stroking hers, and she moaned at the contact. She might not be skilled, but she knew this was what it was supposed to feel like in a husband’s embrace.

  Exciting, yet safe.

  He laid her on the bed, and she scooted backward to make room for him. But he didn’t lie next to her, he crawled over her, not letting his weight rest on her but caging her in with his arms. Her heart raced for a fleeting moment, but when his lips touched her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, she let out the breath she’d been holding.

  He didn’t stop at her chest. He continued down her body, stopping here and there to place kisses. Her ribs were ticklish. His touch caused her to jump and laugh. So different from before, when her body had reacted in fear.

  She felt his lips pull up in a smile against her skin as he placed his next kiss on her hip bone. She assumed he would circle back up, but he continued down her leg. The kisses above her knee and along her ankle sent a jolt of yearning to her core. The man must know some dark craft to send such intense sensations from one part of her body to another. Finally, after placing a kiss on the arch of her foot, he began kissing his way back up her body, stopping in different places as he made his way up her other leg. This time, instead of moving along her hip, he turned inward.

  His large hand gently pushed her legs apart. She hesitated for a second before aiding the movement. He’d already seen her breasts; she didn’t mind that he saw the rest of her.

  He was her husband, and it was normal for a man to want a woman.

  When his lips touched her heat, she jumped again, this time in surprise. She hadn’t known he would kiss her there. She wished she had asked Kenna and the other women for more details, but sharing her inadequacies meant admitting she’d never been a true wife.

  Another moan escaped her as he stroked his tongue over her. Slowly, he slid one thick finger inside her, and she shifted closer, needing something she had no words for.

  As when she was afraid, her body moved without her telling it to. She writhed and tensed as he continued touching her, building her up for…something.

  “Let go, Mari. It’s fine. It’s good, I promise ye.”

  She couldn’t catch her breath or quiet her sounds. When he curved his finger just the slightest bit, he touched a place that shattered her. She cried out and gripped the blanket under her as her body throbbed and convulsed in the most blissful way.

  He didn’t stop his touches, so the pulses continued on and on until she was limp and wrecked. She hadn’t even noticed when he’d moved over her until she opened her eyes to see him smiling above her.

  “Did you like that?” he asked.

  Right. She was supposed to tell him if she liked something.

  She nodded in wonder. “Yes. I— I did. Most definitely. Very much.”

  He laughed, but she wasn’t bothered. He seemed so happy, she didn’t mind.

  “I’ll give you a moment to catch your breath before we continue.”

  Continue? She could barely move. Though she did feel better when he slid to his side and began trailing his fingers over her sensitized body. She loved his touch.

  Then she realized he was the one doing all the touching. Surely she should be touching him back? She shifted to her side, as well, and reached out, placing her hand against his chest. The heat of his skin warmed her palm as she stroked down and across his stomach, following the path of hair that started at his navel and moved toward the thicket between his legs. At first she avoided his cock, not sure what to do with it. As if it had a mind of its own, it lurched out, touching her hand.

  She laughed and looked up at him. “Did you do that on purpose?”

  “Nay. The wee beast does tricks to gain attention.”

  She shook her head. “I’d certainly not call him wee.” She bit her lip, wondering how this would possibly fit inside her. “He’s terribly imposing.”

  She wrapped her fingers around him and frowned at the width. Her fingers barely touched around it.

  Just as she was about to tell him it wouldn’t work, he groaned and placed his hand over hers, guiding her in the way he liked to be touched. Once she’d gotten the way of it, he released her to her own rhythm.

  A powerful force came over her as she controlled his pleasure. Seeing him close his eyes and toss his head in the same sweet sensations she’d felt caused her body to rouse again.

  Perhaps men were not so different from women when it came to pleasure. Following that logic, she bent to kiss his nipple, flicking her tongue as he’d done to her.

  “Christ.” He pulled her hand away and she jumped back.

  “I’m sorry!” She was quick to apologize out of habit.

  He kept his eyes closed and shook his head. “Don’t apologize, lass. You did nothing wrong. It just feels so damn good. I don’t want it to be over too soon. There’s more I wish to show you.”

  She wanted to tell him it was fine. What she’d had already was enough, but touching
him made her yearn for the more he spoke of.

  She pressed closer to kiss him.

  With his hands around her waist, he lifted her on top of him so her legs straddled his sides. His manhood rested in the cleft between her legs, and she couldn’t stop herself from pressing against it.

  The moisture from her body covered his as she slid against him.

  “God, Mari,” he groaned. “I need to be inside ye.”

  She agreed but didn’t know how to go about such a thing. She’d always been told she would be on her back and her husband would lie atop her. This arrangement, with her on top, was not expected.

  She moved to one side, but he stayed her with his hands on her hips.

  “Nay. We’ll do it like this the first time. That way you can control it. You’ve not had near enough control over what happens to your body in the past. Tonight will be different.”

  When he looked at her, she nearly broke into tears at the compassion in his warm whisky eyes.

  “You’ll help me do it right?” she asked.

  “Aye, but you’re a clever lass and will do just fine. Let your body guide you.”

  Using his hand, he grasped his cock and held it up as if in invitation. If she understood correctly, she should just slide down and allow her body to envelop his.

  He rubbed the end of his member against her, and she moaned at the pleasure. He stopped at her entrance. She moved down slightly, and his hands gripped her waist. Not pulling her down, just holding on to her as if he needed her to help him.

  She slid down a bit farther and encountered a tight pinch. Sucking in a quick breath, she retreated slightly, back to where it felt good. She’d known for most of her life that losing her maidenhead would be painful. How painful, she wasn’t quite sure. She’d been told by her stepmother’s maid it was a terrible thing. But then Kenna had said it was quick and well worth the small discomfort because what came afterward was so magnificent.

  Mari imagined the truth lay somewhere in between.

  “If you’re not ready…” Cam said, his voice tight with need.