Chapter 5 #3
William couldn’t get Ailith to their chambers quickly enough. While he appreciated his kin, clan, and fellow Highlanders coming to Drumoak to celebrate his wedding, William was finished with other people. He wanted, nay, needed to have Ailith all to himself.
As he raced with her down the hall, he couldn’t stop looking at her.
Half of her hair was plaited in a complex crown around her head, but the rest fell in soft crimson curls around her shoulders and down her back.
She held up the front of her long skirts as they rushed through the narrow hallway to the stairs that led to his chambers.
Nay, their chambers.
The green gown was something from a dream, a deep emerald that matched the brooch his father had insisted he wear that morning.
The fabric had been so finely hewn that even in the dim hallway torchlight, the gown seemed to shimmer as she moved.
The detailed Celtic knot stitching across her breast and down her back only drew his eyes to her ample breasts all the more, and during their entire wedding, all he wanted to do was tug her neckline down so he could suckle on her luscious breasts.
He had reached his breaking point dancing with her. The verdant intensity of her eyes had remained fixed on him, and he lost all control under her commanding gaze.
William might be a Highland warrior, but he was completely helpless under her brilliant eyes, made more brilliant by the complementary green of her dress. He was sweating, and his blood pulsed through his entire body, making his cock throb under his tunic.
He needed her, and he needed her now.
Swiftly, he swept her into his arms as he opened their chamber door. The sounds of the revelry followed them into the room, but once the door was closed, the room was silent.
He lay her on the bed and kissed the undercurve of her jaw, his hand pressed against her breast over her gown.
William was ready to tear the garment from her body when she pushed against his chest. He stepped backward, his face tense with confusion.
Why had she pushed him away?
A sly smile crossed her lips, and her eyes sparkled in the low candlelight.
She was up to something, and his cock flexed again in anticipation.
Rising from the bed, she sauntered close to him. She didn’t reach for him or kiss him. Rather, she looked him up and down.
Without a word, she tapped a slender finger against his belt. He quickly worked the buckle and removed it, his chest heaving with his panting breath. Keeping his gaze on her, he draped the belt over a nearby chair.
Using that same finger, she drew her fingertip up his chest, over his buttons. He craved her touch, his body seeming to scream for it, and he unbuttoned the cotehardie, then laid it over his belt.
Ailith grabbed the hem of his undertunic and lifted it up and over his head. That, he threw to the floor.
She rested the flat of her palm on his heaving chest, and the touch was so hot, it was like she was branding him.
She might as well have. He had always been hers, and if she required him to be branded to show it, then he would willingly expose his chest to her branding iron.
Her fingertips danced down his chest to the ties of his fitted trews and lower, to where his swollen member begged for her touch. She cupped it with her warm hand. William groaned and leaned into her, resting his forehead against her hair.
“Please, lass. I canna –” he begged.
She squeezed slightly, and he groaned again. “Ye can, and ye will.”
William’s hands moved of their own volition, grabbing at her sleeve.
“Then be fair. I would see your skin as bare as mine.”
Her sly smile twitched as she moved back a half-step. Her eyes were riveted on his as she reached behind herself to untie her laces. The upper curve of her breasts pushed higher, enticing him, and he groaned again.
Then the gown loosened, and she wiggled from it. The gown fell into a lofty green puddle at her feet. Daintily, she stepped out of the dress and draped it over his cotehardie and belt.
Wearing only her léine and woolen hose, she gathered her léine and pulled it off her ravishing body. Watching her undress was exquisite torture, and she stood before him in nothing but her creamy woolen stockings tied in place against her thigh.
Oh, to be one of those ties!
He reached for her, but she shook her head, pushing his hands to the side, prolonging his agony. His cock bulged iron-hot in his trews as she continued his torment.
“Ailith,” he begged again.
She didn’t answer. Instead, her fingers found the thin leather ties at his groin and unfastened them with a few deft moves of her fingertips. His trews loosened enough for his cock to burst free, swollen and upright and glistening.
She touched the tip with her finger, and William groaned once more.
“Get ye in the bed, lass, before I throw ye there,” he growled.
“Nay. Ye promised me a ride. Now ‘tis my turn.”
What? Her turn –
He needed no answer as she dropped to her knees, her mouth swallowing his member.
His mind exploded. He had no words, no denial, nothing. His only thought was of her lips dragging up and down the length of his quivering member.
“Oh, God,” he whispered in a raspy voice. His hands fell to her head, unsure if he was going to encourage her more or pull her away.
He did neither. The tip of his manhood flared in her mouth as her tongue dragged up his shaft. The sight of her red head at his groin was his undoing.
“Oh, God!” he hissed, more loudly this time.
Now, he was begging. If she didn’t release him, he would lose his seed in her mouth, and he’d have to wait a while before consummating his marriage with his wife.
He didn’t let her decide. William pushed her away, clasped her under her arms, and lifted her to their bed as he kicked off his trews.
But she didn’t lie down. Instead, she rolled to her knees and looked at him expectantly.
“What are ye doing?” he asked, reaching for her.
“I get to ride,” she said. “Lay down.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, but her gaze remained strong and intense. His gaze dropped to her full breasts before he got on the bed.
He didn’t lie down – he reached for her as he sat on the bed and, cupping the back of her head, brought her lips to his.
He ravaged her mouth, kissing, licking, biting, and thrusting his tongue between her lips.
She sucked on his tongue, and his mind spun.
His hands found her breasts, brushing his thumb over her taut peaks.
As they kissed, she pressed him back into the bedding and moved her leg so she straddled him.
That didn’t stop his kisses as he curled into her upright body atop his hips. She shifted so the tip of his cock was at her thirsty entrance, and he surged upward, penetrating her, filling her as far as he could enter.
They were joined, man and wife, and he paused with his staff inside her, his body throbbing as hard as his cock was in her sheath.
Her hands came up to his shoulders, wrapping around them to hold him in place as she started to move her hips, sliding her petal-smooth sheath up and down his cock, driving him to the brink.
He slid his lips down her neck to her breasts, sucking on one pink-tinged nipple, then the other, his own feast of her body. Then he lifted his eyes to her raptured face.
“I love ye, Ailith,” he said in cadence to the steady movement of their joined bodies.
A film of perspiration covered both of them as they shared in this most intimate embrace.
“I am yours, to love, to command, to own, until my last breath.” He panted as he spoke, his voice tight, and her hands slid over his shoulder to cup his upturned face.
“Are ye mine, William?” she asked. His ballocks flexed deep in his belly.
“Aye,” he growled.
He was losing control as her hips continued their ravaging movements. His hands moved to her hips, gripping the flesh hard to encourage her to keep going.
She threw her head back, her hair a cascading river of red down her back and brushing his thighs.
His ball flexed again as his moment built.
“Until my last breath,” he said through gritted teeth.
She quivered over him, a sensation that traveled through her entire body to her hips and sheath.
He was there.
But not quite. He needed one more thing from her.
Gripping her head at her jaw, he moved her head forward as she cried out her pleasure.
“I have to hear ye say it, Ailith,” he commanded as their hips ground together. “Say the word ye ken I must hear.”
She huffed out a long breath and opened her liquid eyes – they resembled mist rolling over a bright spring glen.
He thrust harder, slamming his hips upward into her as his body tensed. He was almost there. His moment.
“I love ye, William.”
Then he closed his eyes as his seed erupted into her, hard and raw, draining him of everything he had.
They stayed in that clenched position, Ailith on his hips, and he curled up against her, until they were both spent.