The Border Vixen (18 page)

The words came out before she might stop them. “Ye dinna beat me, my lord.”

“I disarmed ye, lass,” he replied with a grin, appreciating the fine line of distinction she had drawn and not in the least offended. “And then yer grandsire declared me the victor. Do ye really want to disagree with the old man?”

“And break his heart?” she replied. “Nay, I do not. But ye did not really beat me, my lord. My silence allowed ye the victory, but I am not unhappy with the outcome.”

“I am very relieved to hear it, lass,” he told her softly. Then he brushed the back of her hand with his lips, slowly kissing each finger upon it. He turned the hand over and placed a deep kiss upon her palm as he looked into her lovely face.

Maggie’s hazel eyes grew wide with surprise as she felt a ripple of excitement race through her. She had never known the palm of one’s hand could be so sensitive.

“Take off yer night garment,” Fin’s voice instructed quietly, his eyes meeting hers.

“Will ye take off yers?” she countered, her heart beginning to thump in her ears.

In response, he loosed her hand and pulled his night garb off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. “Turnabout is fair play, madam,” he told her.

Unwilling to play the shrinking virgin, Maggie yanked her gown over her head and tossed it bravely onto the floor next to his, but she grasped the coverlet up with one hand to cover her naked breasts, not daring to look at him now.

Then to her surprise Fin stood up. “Look at me,” he said to her. “Look and see how a man is fashioned. If you have questions, I will answer them.”

This certainly had to be the oddest wedding night any couple had ever had, Maggie considered. Then, raising her gaze, she looked at the naked man before her. He was surely the most magnificent male creature ever created, she decided, despite her lack of sources for comparison. Oh, she had seen men in the fields naked from the waist up. She had seen others, their lower torsos wrapped in linens as they labored on the few hot days of summer. She had even seen glimpses of male buttocks as they eagerly used a lass in the hay or the hedges. But never had she seen a fully naked man, or one of such perfection.

He was wonderfully tall, and his limbs were in perfect proportion to his trunk. His arms, his chest, and his back were muscled, but not overly so. His calves were exceedingly shapely, his thighs strong. He was not a hairy man like some she had seen. There was the lightest covering of down on his legs and arms. His broad chest, however, was smooth. His buttocks were firm, and she was certain she saw a dimple where his spine split the flesh into twin moons. His feet were large, suiting his size. A thick thatch of black curls sprang forth from his mons. His manhood hung long and relaxed amid it. It didn’t look at all particularly dangerous, Maggie thought. In fact it seemed rather indifferent. What if her body didn’t excite it? After all, he had said he was marrying her because the king had told him to wed her. It had hardly been a flattering commentary.

Fin had turned himself slowly so she might observe him at her leisure in his entirety. Now he held out his hand to her. “Come, madam,” he said. “Ye’ve now seen me. I would see ye.” He gently peeled the coverlet from her hand and drew her forth from the bed onto her feet to stand where he might view her as freely and as frankly as she had viewed him. She was statuesque for a woman, taller than many men, but he still towered over her. She was beautifully formed with shapely arms and legs, a light ripple of muscle across her smooth shoulders that eased into a long back. Her buttocks were surprisingly round and plump. He wanted to kneel then and there to nip at them, but he didn’t. Her breasts were round but not overly large. The nipples upon them could be called dainty. Her slim torso boasted a narrow waist that flowed into well-proportioned hips and trim, but firm, thighs. Her mons was covered in chestnut-colored curls, the hue of which matched her long hair. Unlike some women, she did not pluck her curls. His eyes fell at last to her feet, which were slender and long in keeping with her height.

“Yer a beautiful lass,” Fin finally said.

Maggie colored. She had hardly breathed as his gray eyes had slowly explored her female form. But now unable to help herself, she sneezed.

“Into bed with ye, lass,” he said, quickly pushing her toward the furniture in question and as swiftly climbing in next to her.

It had been done so quickly, Maggie didn’t have time to consider it, but suddenly she was lying side by side with this man who was her husband. He put his arms about her, and she gave a little cry of surprise.
“Oh!”
He was wrapped about her, and the sensation of his flesh touching her flesh was amazing to her.

“Yer chilled,” he said with understatement. “ ’Twas selfish of me to keep ye from our warm bed, feasting myself on yer fair form, Maggie mine,” he apologized.

“Yer my husband, and ye may do as ye please with me,” Maggie said.

“Nay,” he replied, surprising her. “It was thoughtless, lass, but yer so beautiful.”

“So are ye,” she murmured back. She was beginning to feel warm again.

Fin chuckled. “I dinna think I’ve ever been called beautiful, but I thank ye.”

His arms tightened about her, and he kissed the top of her head.

Maggie winced.

“What is it?” His voice was filled with concern.

“If ye might not hold me so tightly, my lord,” she said to him. “My neck and shoulders really do ache. I don’t ever recall being so sore.”

He loosened his grip upon her. “ ’Tis difficult not to hold ye tightly, lass,” he admitted to her. “It seems as if I’ve waited forever to hold ye.”

“Ye but came to Brae Aisir less than four months ago, my lord,” she said.

“But I knew then ye were to be my wife, and when I saw ye, how could I not want to hold ye in my arms?” Fin felt her firm young body cradled against him, and a frisson of desire raced down his spine. He knew what was expected of them that night, and she knew too, but he didn’t want this first experience with him to be unpleasant. And he realized that until Maggie was with child, he would be expected to be with her each and every night but for a few. He wanted to prepare her for what was to come, and he wanted her content when it was over. Whether her passions could be fully engaged by him he didn’t know, but their couplings should be enjoyable, and she should not dread them.

Could they love each other? Did such a thing as love even exist? Was it possible for them to find it together? Fingal Stewart really had no answers to his own questions. But he did know if they liked and respected each other, if they could enjoy the coupling of their bodies and produce bairns for Brae Aisir, the marriage would be a good one. It was the best he could hope for now. The time for talk had ended.

“My lord,” she began, but he stopped her mouth with a quick kiss.

“Enough, lass. Let me lead ye, Maggie mine. And while it pleases me to hear ye call me
my lord
in public, in private I would prefer ye spoke my name.” His lips met hers once again in a deep passionate kiss.

Maggie almost swooned with the sweet pressure of his mouth on hers. She didn’t know if she would ever love him. Was love even real? But a man who kissed her as he was now kissing her certainly could be liked. She kissed him back, feeling his big palm cupping her head as his lips worked against hers. She felt a need to open her own lips to him, and his tongue slid between them to touch, to caress her tongue. Maggie shivered, for she had never imagined such a thing. It was exciting, thrilling, and without her even being aware of it at first, her tongue caressed his back.

When she realized what she was doing, Maggie wasn’t certain she should be shocked by her own behavior, but Fin certainly didn’t seem to mind. Indeed, he seemed to encourage her actions. Her heart jumped in her chest when his other hand fastened itself about one of her buttocks to bring their bodies into seriously close proximity. The warm hand on her bottom made her briefly faint with excitement. The sensation of their bodies, breast to chest, belly to belly, thigh to thigh, caused her to pull her head away from his delicious kisses, gasping with pleasurable shock. “
Oh my!
” she whispered. The feel of his skin against hers, the scent of him in her nostrils, was utterly and amazingly intoxicating. “I don’t know what to do,” she said, softly surprised by the sound of her own voice, and that she was able to speak at all.

“Nay, Maggie mine, remember that I will lead ye tonight,” Fin said as he now laid her back among the pillows. He sighed audibly. “Ye have the most delicious mouth, love. I could kiss ye all night long but that we have other business to attend to first.” His fingers brushed against one of her breasts. Then bending, he ran his tongue slowly between the two round globes. “These are two sweet fruits to be treasured,” he told her.

His fingers brushed a breast, slipping beneath it to cup it in his hand.

No one had ever touched her breasts. For that matter, no man had ever touched her body at all. Maggie wasn’t a simpleton. She knew he was beginning to make love to her, but the reality compared to the servant lasses’ gossip was totally different. She hadn’t known her heart would beat so quickly, or that ripples of ice would race down her spine followed by a fiery heat that made her want to cry out. Everything he was doing to her was unfamiliar, but it was wonderful. She heard herself saying to him, “I know ye must lead me, my lord, but instinct makes me want to do something other than lie like a log.”

“Let yer instinct be yer guide, lass,” he told her. Then his dark head dipped to take one of her nipples into his mouth.

“
Sweet Jesu!
” Maggie cried softly. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she felt the tug of his lips on her breast because at the same time she had felt a tug in her nether regions. How was this even possible? But as he suckled on her, the sensation didn’t go away. Indeed, it increased her rising excitement. She sighed, her delight obvious to him.

He released the nipple and began to press kisses down her torso. He could feel her body quivering beneath his mouth, but she had shown him no fear to his actions so far. She would naturally have a virgin’s anxious moments, but so far she was taking to his mouth and hands easily. He ceased his kissing and lay back. She needed to see the havoc she was causing to his body.

“Dinna stop,” she said softly. “I like what yer doing.”

“I like it too,” he replied, “but ye have wanted to participate in our first passion, so I shall instruct ye in what to do, Maggie mine. Sit up and touch my cock. I know ye have not touched one before. This one will pierce yer maidenhead soon, and afterwards it will find its home in yer sweet sheath. It will water yer hidden garden and give ye my seed. Touch it, and know it, love. It is more fearful of the advantage ye will soon hold over it than ye can be of its small power in releasing yer virginity.”

She sat up, amazed to see the formerly lean and lank flesh was swollen hard. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand about it, surprised to see that her fingers did not quite meet. Its former length was even longer now. ’Twas a most impressive weapon indeed.

Releasing it, she let her fingers stroke it briefly, then reached beneath to cup his pouch in her warm palm. “ Yer balls are cold to my touch,” she said to him. “Should they not be heated with yer lust as yer cock is, my lord?”

“Ye must call me Fin, Maggie mine. I know not why a man’s balls are chill, but they always are. ’Tis a mystery.” He was close to flinging himself atop her, for the hand now playing with him had set his blood aboil.

She nodded as her fingers teased innocently at him. “Yer cock is quite upstanding now, my . . . Fin.” She gave it a little squeeze that almost destroyed him.

“Aye, it is. I think we must now consider the removal of yer maidenhead,” he replied in what sounded like a calm voice. He gently pushed her back as she released her hold on his manhood. Then he began kissing her again as his hand stroked her torso, moving slowly lower and lower until he reached the nest of chestnut curls. He crushed her mons gently but firmly several times as she gasped with surprise into his mouth. A single finger ran along the slip separating her nether lips, pressing through them to find her little love bud. Fin was pleased to find she was already moist with her rising desire.

He had not been wrong. She was going to be a passionate woman.

Maggie lay as still as a doe in the brush waiting for what was going to come next.

When his finger touched a hitherto unknown place between her nether lips and began to worry it, gently at first, and then with more urgency, she cried out in surprise. He silenced her with more kisses as the tip of that terrible finger played harder. Her head spun, and when a burst of utter pleasure overcame her, she pulled from him, crying out again. “
Sweet Jesu!
No more, I beg ye. ’Tis too delicious.”

He did not answer her, instead stroking her flesh into ease, and then moving lower.

Maggie was tightly shut to him. His finger tenderly coaxed the flesh barely enough to begin the gentle pressure that would open her first to his finger, and then to his manhood.

Fin felt her body begin to resist him. “Nah, nah, sweetheart, ye need to be readied for what is to come,” he murmured to her.

God’s toenail! Why didn’t he just mount her and be done with it? Maggie wondered to herself. It had to be better than all this anticipation he was causing to build up within her. She tried to be at ease, and felt the tip of his finger slip into her.
“Oh!”

Again he said nothing. Instead, he pushed his finger to the second joint.

“Oh!”

And finally Fin sheathed the digit in its entirety. He let it remain there so she might get used to the pressure of it. Then he began a slow rhythm with the finger, moving it back and forth. He was painfully aware as he did so of the ache in his own cock.

“
Ohh!
” Maggie half whispered. Then she felt herself relaxing and enjoying his sensuous actions. She wanted more. To her great surprise, she realized a primitive instinct made her want that big cock of his pushing inside her. Was she wanton? Or was it natural for a wife to desire her husband so greatly? “Fuck me,” she whispered. “Not just with your finger, Fin. I am ready to take you within me.
Please!
”