Highland Courage (Highland Brides) (7 page)

“We’re leaving the celebration?”

“Aye, little one. I thought it best to spirit ye away before they could call for the bedding ritual. I suspect it might embarrass ye.” Although the ceremony could be as simple as the priest blessing the marriage bed, it generally happened in the presence of friends and family after they put the couple into the bed. Tadhg worried a ceremony like this would have been more than his shy bride could handle.

Her relief was palpable. “Oh, Tadhg, thank ye. I hadn’t even thought about the bedding ritual. But what if—what if…”

“What if they call for it anyway? Ye have nothing to worry about, Mairead. I talked to Father Colm about this yesterday. As ye can imagine, he understands your shyness. He agreed to slip away earlier and bless the bed. If the crowd calls for it, he will assure them it has been done.”

They passed through an antechamber before entering his bedchamber. Like everything else at Cnocreidh, the laird’s bedchamber was very large and comfortably appointed. He pulled her into his arms and gave her another kiss. She melted against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her warm response pleased him.

“Ye are so beautiful,” he said as he ran his hands softly over her back and down her sides, ending the journey by cupping her breasts in his hands. “And ye taste so sweet.” He continued the gentle assault on her mouth, sliding his tongue over hers then lightly sucking on her lower lip. He gently rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and they pebbled under his touch. She gave another low moan, responding to his tender ministrations.

He found his little bride entirely delicious, but he needed to proceed very carefully. He lifted the wreath from her head, setting it aside and letting the veil slip to the floor behind her. “Mairead, my sweet,” he whispered between kisses, “I want to see all of your beauty.” He removed her plaid, allowing it to fall to the floor before returning his hands to her breasts, rubbing them lightly again. She arched against his touch.

To his surprise and pleasure, she asked shyly, “Shall I help ye undress?”

“Aye, my sweet, if ye wish.” With trembling fingers she removed the fastening for his plaid, letting it join her own on the floor. Her small hands roamed over his chest and shoulders; the feather light touch inflamed him even through the fabric of his
léine
. He continued to remove her clothes, his lips trailing kisses over her skin as he did.

When she was wearing only her thin shift, he said, “Mairead, ye take my breath away. Can I see all of ye?” She gave him a shy little nod, and he removed her shift, allowing it to fall to the floor as well. She blushed and glanced down, but he nudged her chin up, and he captured her lips again. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bed, laying her gently on it.

She was a vision. Her thick brown curls lay like a silk cushion under her delicate, lushly curved body. He drank in the exquisite sight for a moment and, although her blush deepened, she didn’t look away from him this time. “My lovely bride, ye please me so.” She gave him a hesitant smile and her silver eyes sparkled.

He removed the remainder of his clothes quickly. Mairead gasped as he pulled his
léine
off. He lay on the bed beside her and gently stroked the length of her body, planting soft kisses on her face. As she relaxed into his touch, his lips moved to her neck, making her purr with pleasure. Then he continued his journey to her silky shoulder, before finally capturing a nipple lightly with his mouth and suckling gently. She tensed, but only for a moment before she relaxed again.

As he continued to gently lave her pert nipple, she murmured, “Mmmm, I like that.”

“Do ye? Let’s see what else ye might like.” His hand trailed down her stomach until he reached the nest of curls hiding her womanhood. His fingers stroked her softly, and he smiled at the slightly surprised look on her face. She didn’t move to stop him. He slipped a finger between her soft folds, lightly stroking the sensitive bud hidden there and was rewarded by a throaty moan. He reclaimed her lips with his, suckling on her lower lip.

She writhed against him as he massaged the sensitive spot between her legs. Her breath came in short gasps. He could feel the tension building in her—she was close to her release. Paying close attention for any sign indicating she was afraid or he needed to stop, he slipped a finger in her snug passage. Grasping his shoulders she arched against him and cried out his name as her body convulsed in ecstasy. Watching her reach her climax was the most beautifully erotic thing he had ever witnessed, and he ached with need for her. However, he waited, holding her close as she recovered.

“Oh, Tadhg, that was—that was—what was that?”

“Ye liked it?” He grinned.

“Oh, aye, I did.”

“That was your woman’s release.”

“But, ye didn’t—we didn’t…”

He chuckled, “We’re not finished, little one.”

“Nay?”

“Nay, but Mairead, ye are still a virgin.”

“What? Nay, I can’t be.”

“Sweetling, ye are.”

“How do ye know?”

“I could tell when I touched ye inside.”

“I don’t understand. I felt him—there. It hurt.”

“I know the bastard who attacked ye hurt ye, sweetling, but he didn’t break through your maidenhead. Perhaps it was his hand ye felt inside. He didn’t take your virginity.”

She looked bewildered. “Mairead, I am only telling ye this because the first time might hurt ye. If ye want to wait, we can. I don’t want ye to be scared.”

She looked at him silently for a moment, as if considering his words, then she said, “I don’t want to wait. I want ye to make me your wife.”

Tadhg thought his heart would explode. This sweet, shy lass he had married was no mouse. After all she had been through, she wanted him to make love to her. “I’ll be as careful as I can. Ye can always tell me to stop.”

~ * ~

Still a virgin? Mairead tried to wrap her mind around it but couldn’t. She couldn’t concentrate. Her husband began nuzzling her neck and kissing her again. The things his kisses did to her. Just as she had before, she writhed and purred under his touch. This was wonderful. All conscious thoughts fled and her world was reduced to pure sensation.

Oh, dear Lord, he was touching her
there
again. Once more the exquisite tension was building as he stroked between her moist folds. Tell him to stop?
Not likely
. She arched against him, panting. He knelt between her legs and eased into her a little. She felt stretched, but no pain. He pulled out and pushed in again a little deeper. His hand slipped between them, and he massaged the tiny sensitive nub at her apex. He kept teasing her opening with just the head of his manhood. Finally, with one sharp thrust he breached her maidenhead.

She gasped, and her eyes flew open at the sharp pain. He held very still, and continued the sensuous assault on her body, trailing kisses over her lips and breasts. The pain was already receding, and gradually the tension in her core built again. She wanted to move. She wanted him to move. “Please, Tadhg,” she whispered, pushing up against him, trying to urge him on. Only then did he begin to move slowly within her. Her movements become frenzied, driving him to increase his pace.

“Let it go, Mairead,” he whispered and she shattered in his arms, crying out his name. As the waves of her release shuddered through her body, while still in the throes of her climax, Tadhg groaned, and his hot seed filled her. Panting, he rested his forehead on hers and whispered, “Mairead.” It was almost a supplication.

He shifted his weight to the side and held her to him, still joined.

She ran her hands lightly down his arms and across his chest. He captured one of her hands in his and kissed her fingertips. “Are ye all right?”

“Oh, aye. More than all right.” Her voice still sounded breathless, and she felt a bit dazed.

“I didn’t hurt ye overmuch?”

“Nay, not that I remember.” She flashed him a wicked smile.

He chuckled and kissed her again.

Gently he pulled out of her and tucked her snuggly beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. He buried his head in her hair, inhaling deeply. “I love the feel of ye in my arms and ye smell heavenly.”

“It must be the thyme.”

“The time for what?”

Mairead laughed. “Thyme, the herb, for courage. It was in my bath, my bouquet, and the wreath on my head.”

“Oh, Mairead, were ye so afraid, then?”

“Honestly, nay.”

“That pleases me more than I can tell ye.” He hugged her tightly for a moment and, kissing the top of her head said, “Good night, my sweet little bride.”

“Good night,” she whispered back. Soon his breathing became slow and regular signaling that he had fallen asleep. Sated and relaxed, she sighed happily. The faint scent of thyme assailed her.
Thyme for courage
. Nay, she didn’t need it for this. Here she was, lying completely naked in the arms of an equally naked man whom she had only known for a few days. To her utter bewilderment she didn’t feel remotely shy. In fact, she was more comfortable and content than she had ever been. Basking in this serenity, she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Before dawn, she woke to find herself draped across his chest, with one of her legs between his, her thigh pressed against his manhood. She stirred and nuzzled her cheek against the soft hair on his chest. A low rumbling growl rose from him, and she looked up to find him watching her.

She ran her hands across his broad chest, kissing and nibbling the way he had the night before.

Stilling her hands, he said, “Ah, God’s teeth, lass, ye could tempt a saint.”

“Can we not do it again?”

“Aye, we can, I just thought—never mind what I thought.” He captured her lips, rolling her onto her back, making tender love to her once more.

They slept again in each other’s arms, waking well after the sun was up. In the light of day, some of her bashfulness returned and she wrapped the sheet around her before climbing out of bed.

“Nay, lass,” Tadhg said huskily, tugging at the sheet. “Ye are truly beautiful and it gives me joy to see ye. Don’t hide from me here.” She blushed and looked away, but left the bed, leaving the sheet behind, enjoying the sound of his rich chuckle.

She found her clothing had been moved into the wardrobe and one of the chests. She washed quickly, dressing in a deep russet
léine
cinched at her waist with a leather belt.

He, too, rose to dress and picked up a small vial that had been on the bedside table. “Well now, we don’t need this.”

She gave him a quizzical look over her shoulder. “What is it?”

“A vial of sheep’s blood.” At her confused expression, he grinned. “Do ye remember the promise I made ye in the chapel, the night ye arrived?”

“Oh. That was—ye were going to…” she glanced at the evidence of her virginity on the bed. She giggled nervously. “Nay, I suppose we don’t need it. But, Tadhg, thank ye for thinking of it.” She blushed crimson.

He chuckled, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly. “Ye have nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetling, but I do love to see ye blush. Ye are so very beautiful.” He kissed her again before releasing her to finish dressing.

She removed a cream-colored plaid with green, gold, and russet stripes from the chest containing her clothing and started to fasten it around her shoulders. He stopped her. “I would like for ye to have this.” He fastened her plaid for her with an intricately filigreed gold brooch. In a voice tinged with sadness, he added, “It belonged to my mother.”

“Tadhg, I would be honored.” She rested her hands on his shoulders while he adjusted the brooch. Her brothers had told her Tadhg’s mother and younger brother had died of the plague ten years earlier while visiting the royal court in Edinburgh. When Tadhg had the brooch secured, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him, wanting to banish the shadow of loss from his eyes.

When their lips parted he said, “Now, no more of that, lass, or ye’ll have me taking ye back to bed.”

She laughed at him. “Ah, ye have discovered my evil scheme to avoid the throng of MacKenzies who no doubt lay in wait below.”

“There is no point trying to avoid them, little one. In just a few short days, I have learned it is nigh on impossible to do that. We will brave them together.”

“Oh, Tadhg, I’m so sorry if they have been a bother.”

He laughed. “They are no bother to me, pet. I always envied your brothers for the close relationship they had. Being part of a large and loving family is a good thing. But I do see how ye can be overwhelmed by them.”

“When Da returned from the Michaelmas Fair, they were all surprised to learn the betrothal he arranged would require me to leave home. When they protested—”

“They protested?”

“Aye, well, not Peadar and Quinn. It was mostly my sisters and really only because they knew I didn’t want to leave home. But I overheard Da say perhaps it would be best if I had to ‘stand on my own two feet’ and didn’t have them to shield me.” Admitting this left her feeling somewhat ashamed. She looked down, avoiding his gaze.

He nudged her chin back up. “Mairead, there is nothing wrong with guarding something which is precious to ye. Yet I think in their love for ye, they built walls to protect ye without ever looking inside them. They didn’t notice how much ye were hurting.”

Mairead was astonished by how accurately he had assessed the situation. Clearly, she had allowed it to happen because she too had walled part of herself away to avoid the pain of facing the trauma. In a few short days, the man who stood before her had destroyed those walls, allowing her to share her pain with him and thus release some of it. She felt stronger and surer because of it. She didn’t know if it was possible to love someone in so short a time, but she believed she might love him already. Perhaps it was a ridiculous notion, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to voice it. Instead, she palmed his face and pulled him into another kiss.