Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Skye stood by the bed, holding a nightgown in her hands. She looked at Arran with wide eyes, unable to find her words.
Sensing her nervousness, Arran broke the silence.
“Good evening, wife,” he purred, a touch of arrogance in his voice. “I’m glad I made it back before ye changed into yer nightgown.”
“And why is that?” she squeaked.
“Because ye willnae be needing it,” he said with a devilish grin.
Skye gasped, and he immediately regretted his words.
He’d jested with her before, but mentioning she would be naked clearly wasn’t the best move. He sat down on the bed and pulled her to him.
“Do ye ken how bairns are made, Skye?” he asked in a serious tone.
“Aye, I understand the process. I’m nae completely innocent, Arran. I’ve helped deliver babies, and I ken how they come to be.”
Arran stared at her. She sounded confident, but she still looked nervous. However, instead of asking any more questions, he turned her around, stood behind her, and pulled back her hair. He planted light kisses on the side of her neck, and she shivered.
Slowly, he unfastened her dress and loosened the ties around the back. Then he pulled the dress over her head and let it drop to the floor. He gripped her shoulders and turned her around.
Skye started to lower her eyes, but he grabbed her chin and tilted her head up. He looked into the blue depths of her eyes, and then he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her gently. When he felt her relax, he reached for the hem of his shirt.
“Ye let me ken if ye want me to stop, all right?”
She nodded.
He took off his shirt and let it fall to the floor, where it joined the wedding dress at their feet. He continued kissing her gently, but when her hands started roaming over his chest, he deepened the kiss. He could feel her body growing hot with desire, and he sensed she was comfortable now.
“I need more of ye, Skye,” he panted.
He reached down and grabbed the bottom hem of her shift. In an instant, he peeled it off her, and now she stood naked before him.
Skye gasped, stepping back. She threw her arms up to cover her breasts, looking nervous, but her breathing quickened, and her blue eyes darkened. Arran grabbed her arms and pulled them down, looking her right in the eye.
“We are wed, Skye. We are one. From this moment, ye dinnae need to be ashamed or embarrassed.” He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair. “Ye are beautiful, and I adore every part of ye.”
When he felt her relax, he stood back and guided her to sit on the bed. His heart skipped a beat, and his breath caught in his chest as he took her in.
Her eyes, no longer wide or fearful, were full of anticipation and wanting. Her round, full breasts heaved, and her pink nipples had grown hard. She was aroused, and that made him dizzy with pleasure and need.
Her waist flared to round hips, and a triangle of red hair covered the apex of her thighs. Arran itched to flip her on her stomach, squeeze her buttocks, and then pull her up onto her knees and enter her from behind.
Slow down!
He shook his head ever so slightly.
He knew such actions would most likely send his inexperienced wife running, so he took a step back. He kicked off his shoes and unfastened his belt, letting his kilt join the gown and shirt already on the floor. Skye watched, her eyes wide and round as a full moon, as his manhood was revealed.
She swallowed. “I daenae think that will fit inside me, Arran Gilroy. I think ye need to figure out somethin’ else!”
Arran tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t help himself.
“I can guarantee that it will fit, Skye,” he reassured her when she shot him an incredulous look.
“But I didnae—I didnae ken that it… that it can grow like that. I’ve never seen…”
“Did ye nae ken about this part?”
She shook her head, unable to look away from his manhood.
“Skye,” he said softly. She bit her lip. “Skye,” he repeated. She finally looked up at him. “I will never hurt ye. Ye are safe with me.”
He waited until she relaxed before continuing.
“I’m goin’ to lie down beside ye. I willnae touch ye, unless ye beg me to.” Then, with a saucy grin, he added, “And ye will beg me to, Skye. I guarantee ye will.”
After a small nod from her, he climbed into bed.
Still sitting up, she looked up and down his body and then spoke in a hushed whisper, “Ye are powerful, and ye look stronger than any man I’ve ever seen. Ye could easily crush me with one hand.”
And there it was. The root of her fear, planted by her stepfather and cultivated over years of watching her mother suffer.
Arran chose his words carefully. “I would never do anything to harm ye, Skye. I will protect ye with me life. Always. Let me show ye that a strong man can also be gentle.”
Skye looked at Arran again. Her eyes traveled across his broad chest to his heavily muscled arms and large, powerful hands. Every inch of him embodied strength and power.
Is what he says true?
She allowed her eyes to drift down his belly. Warmth pooled in her core when her eyes landed on his member, still hard and erect. These sensations were new but not unpleasant.
“C-can I touch ye?” she asked timidly.
“Aye,” he replied in a husky voice. “As I said, lass, we are one. Me body is yers. Forever.”
Skye reached out her hand and lightly stroked his length. And then again. Feeling bolder, she closed her fingers around him and gently squeezed.
She felt him grow thicker in her hand as his eyes roamed over her face and body. Heat pooled in her belly.
She heard his sharp intake of breath as her strokes quickened, but then he gently grabbed her hand and moved it away from his shaft.
“Ye need to stop, Skye, or I willnae last much longer.”
Skye wasn’t sure what that meant, but she rested her hand on his chiseled abdomen and placed a kiss on his lips. He immediately returned her kiss with one of his own.
His mouth plundered hers, and his hand moved to her right breast, pinching and teasing her nipple. The tingling sensation in her core intensified, and she started grinding her hips against him. He responded by moving his mouth to her breast, and more warm wetness pooled between her legs.
Skye moaned as he trailed his hand down her stomach to her mound.
“Spread yer legs for me, Skye,” he commanded seductively.
Her legs fell open automatically.
Skye’s shock turned quickly into pleasure as his fingers gently explored her sex, his lips and mouth never ending their tender assault on her breasts.
Skye wound her fingers in his hair and tugged. “I need… I need…”
Arran lifted his head from her breast, releasing her nipple with a pop. She sighed in disappointment, but then surprise took over as he kissed down her stomach.
“Arran, what are ye…?” she panted when she felt his warm breath on the damp red curls.
And then she couldn’t think at all when his head dove lower and he kissed her womanhood. His tongue dove between her folds and then circled a particularly sensitive nub.
Skye couldn’t breathe. And she didn’t care. The exquisite torture of what he was doing to her was worth anything. She felt a pressure build in her core, and every muscle locked tight. She bucked her hips, and another moan escaped her lips.
She pushed Arran’s head lower as she ground her hips against his mouth. Her other hand clutched the woolen blanket, and she feared to let go. Finally, she let out a cry of sweet release, and then her body went slack.
Am I still alive?
She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t move her arms and legs, and she wasn’t sure she was breathing. But then she felt Arran’s warm lips on her cheeks and heard him whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
“Arran,” she breathed.
“Hmm,” he murmured as he rolled off her and lay beside her.
“I didnae ken ye could do that,” she said shyly.
“This is only the beginning, lassie,” he said with a grin. “And there’s more.”
More? I daenae ken if I can take any more.
Yet, something in her began to wonder if she actually could.
Her eyelids grew heavy. Arran gathered her into his arms, and she nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. She was asleep before he kissed her forehead.
Skye woke up as a ray of sunshine filtered through a glass pane in the window, and she watched tiny dust motes dance in the light.
She rested on her side, her head pillowed on Arran’s muscular bicep, his body curved around hers.
Sometime during the night, he’d pulled a blanket over them, but she’d not woken up.
Safe.
Skye wasn’t able to recall a time when she’d slept so well.
Perhaps it was the… the activity before ye fell asleep.
She thought of her brazen behavior and blushed, then rolled over and looked at her husband.
She had to smile. He looked disheveled, younger, and far from the brute she accused him of being. Last night he had been tender and gentle, and she felt warmth pool between her legs again.
Arran felt her wiggle, and his eyes fluttered open. “Good mornin’, lass,” he croaked. “Did ye sleep well?”
Skye nodded but then propped herself up on her elbow. She had so many questions.
“Arran, what we did… what ye did… I never kenned…” She had trouble getting the words out. “Is that allowed?”
Arran laughed. “Aye, dearie. It is allowed, and I highly recommend it. Often.”
She swatted his shoulder and then she asked, “But can a woman do that to a man?”
Arran swallowed, and a vein in his neck started to throb. “Aye,” he replied huskily. “It is different, but aye, ye can. But for now, me wife, it is time to get out of bed.”
Skye giggled as she threw back the blanket and hopped off the bed. But then she noticed she was naked. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it up to cover herself. But Arran held it firm.
“Arran… let. It. Go,” she said, giving the blanket a tug with each word.
“Woman, ye are a vision. Ye willnae deny me this!” Arran protested playfully, but he eventually let go of the blanket.
He lay there, stark naked. Her eyes landed on his perfect form and went wide as his manhood grew erect.