Chapter Four
The pain had quickly subsided, and Brenna was encouraged by the pleasant feeling that replaced it. Every time Ronan thrust into her, she couldn’t help but push up from the bed to meet his force.
It was as if her body knew exactly what to do, even though her sister hadn’t prepared her for this enjoyment. Brenna seemed to be floating higher and higher toward…something… She didn’t know what. Could it be heaven? Was she dying? Did she even care if she was?
Ronan shifted above her ever so slightly. It was such a tiny adjustment, but this slight movement had him touching something deeper within her. Something—
“Stop. Please, stop.” She closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep the frightening thing away.
“What is it? Are you in pain?” he asked, his brows pulled into a frown.
“No. No pain, but I fear something is wrong. Something is tightening, like it might burst inside me.” She was out of breath, and the words were hard to speak.
He smiled, and she fought the urge to hit him for his reaction. Did the man not have any feelings at all? She’d thought he had a tender heart under the gruff exterior. She’d seen a hint of it from how he’d taken care of her earlier. His kisses were sweet at first and only slowly moved to scalding.
“Has no one told you what happens after the pain, lass?” he asked, his head tilted to the side.
She blinked at the unexpected question and shook her head. “My sister told me some women enjoy it greatly, but I didn’t think I would because I don’t enjoy many things other women enjoy.”
He gently shifted a stray wave of her hair away from her cheek. “I think maybe you were wrong about that. I believe you’re going to like it a great deal. You’re very responsive.”
“That’s good?” She winced. Generally, her responses were all wrong.
“Yes. I like that you are not shy.”
She smiled, happy to earn his admiration. But she still worried something was wrong with her body. He wasn’t a woman. How could he be sure she wasn’t about to burst into pieces?
“The tightening is a good thing,” he said, making her think she might have spoken her worry out loud. “If I do my part well, you may indeed burst, but I promise all your pieces will remain intact, and no harm shall be done, only pleasure. Just relax and enjoy it. All will be well, I promise.”
She swallowed nervously, then nodded. She would trust him. They had agreed to be honest, and she had to believe in him.
“Ready?”
When she gave a more determined nod, he slid deep inside her again. This time, slowly. She’d no idea this marital duty would be so…pleasurable. She’d thought it would be something she would have to endure, but she hoped she’d be made to endure it every day.
She did as he’d instructed—relaxed and allowed the feeling to rise again. Her insides tightened more and more with each stroke. She did her best to remain quiet. He bent to her ear and nibbled the soft skin there.
“You don’t have to hold back. Make noise if ye wish. I like that, too.”
Again, he liked something that came naturally to her. Hope soared. The moan that left her throat enhanced the experience, especially when he joined in with his groans.
He continued his pace, somehow getting deeper inside her with each stroke…
until she did burst into tiny pulses of pleasure so great it stole her breath and made her shout at the same time.
Her muscles tightened and then melted. The tremors slowed as he continued to move inside her, but now she felt everything within her so much stronger than before.
She felt his heat and the moisture between them.
His thrusts sped up, and then suddenly, he pushed into her as far as he could, and she felt his pulses and a pleasing fire shoot deep inside her.
She gasped as she realized what had happened.
Her sister had been wrong about nearly every part of this experience.
If Brenna could write, she’d send Hannah a letter telling her the truth so she’d know what to expect on her wedding night.
Her husband pulled from her slowly and laid his head near hers.
His chest hammered against her ribs. She ran her fingertips through his soft hair, the color of sunshine on a wheat field.
When she felt his heartbeat slow, she finally spoke.
“I have no experience, but I think you are quite good at this.”
“Thank you.” His breath was still short, but she could hear a smile in his voice.
“Did your other lovers also burst into pieces?”
“I don’t wish to speak about other women in our marriage bed.”
This seemed like an excuse, but she allowed it because she didn’t want to hear about other women in their marriage bed, either.
“Will you take other lovers now that we’re wed?” She probably shouldn’t have asked, for she knew other men had mistresses and lemans. His grandsire had suggested it, but she didn’t like the idea. She didn’t want to waste a single night with her husband.
“We’ll discuss it later. Sleep now.”
It was easy to concede to his command since her body was so heavy with pleasure and exhaustion.
But she didn’t stay asleep long. Not used to sharing a bed, she woke to feel his heat on her back.
She reached behind her to touch the silk-covered hardness between his muscled thighs.
As she stroked him, he woke and murmured something about her being lusty.
He did not seem to mind. He pushed into her from behind.
There was no pain beyond a dull soreness. From this new, exciting angle, he was able to get deeper, and his hand held her hip as he drove into her harder than the first time. She liked the pace, and a blissful moan escaped her lips.
The sound ignited him, and his thrusts came faster and faster. When the tightening in her body began this time, she welcomed it, knowing what to expect. The wonderful currents of pleasure rippled through her, and she clutched his fingers between hers.
***
Ronan glanced over at his wife in the early hours before dawn.
The low light from the embers in the hearth softened her features into beautiful lines.
Maybe his initial frustrations and lack of options had made her seem less appealing than she was.
True, she didn’t have many womanly curves, but in sleep, she looked like a devilish angel sent to earth to torment him.
He was intrigued by how she’d responded to their joining.
He’d expected someone of her age and inexperience to be timid and fearful of relations in a man’s bed, but she’d embraced them with determination and, in the end, even pleasure.
He should have known Brenna wouldn’t be like other women.
She’d done nothing but surprise him time and time again.
She didn’t seem to fear anything, his brave wife.
The familiar pang of guilt twisted his stomach for what secrets he kept from her. But one thing that would never come between them would be another woman. He’d always known when he married, he’d remain faithful to his wife for the rest of his life.
It was his right to take a mistress if he wished, and it seemed she almost expected it.
His grandsire and uncle indeed did. But his stepfather would not find honor in that behavior.
The idea of a mistress was considered a weakness to the MacPherson laird, who had never strayed from Ronan’s mother, regardless of how manipulative the woman was.
Ronan wouldn’t be regarded as weak. Many couples started as strangers but had been happy ever since.
Could it be the same, one day, for him and Brenna? Or would she come to hate him for what he planned now? Something far worse than taking a mistress.
“Forgive me, lass,” he whispered before slipping from their shared bed.
***
Brenna woke up late.
The heavy drapes over the windows were outlined in bright light that was only possible from a sun hung full in the sky.
She was used to waking at dawn when the light was still weak.
Jerking up in the unfamiliar bed, she worried she’d be scolded for being tardy to the morning meal, but her body reminded her of the reason for her fatigue.
The sheet under her was marked with proof of a successful consummation.
A smile came with the memory. She was no longer a maiden—she was Ronan’s true wife.
And she was in Strathspey, the Grant seat—her new home.
Ignoring the sore muscles and tenderness, she washed and dressed quickly to see her husband as soon as possible.
She wanted to thank him for their time together the night before.
He was a most skilled lover. She had enjoyed lying with him and looked forward to doing it again as often as he wished.
Well, as soon as she fed her grumbling belly.
She walked into the hall, her gaze instantly searching for Ronan at the high table at the front. But only the laird and Ewan were seated there. The laird waved a hand at her, and Brenna sat beside him on his left since Ewan sat to his right in Ronan’s place.
“How do ye fair this morning?” the laird asked with a tender smile.
Brenna felt herself blush furiously. “Very well, thank you.”
The older man’s smile grew, and he patted Brenna on the shoulder. “Good. I’m glad for it.”
One of the serving girls brought her food, and she dug in with a hearty appetite.
“Ronan must have put on a good showing to have you this starved in the morning,” Ewan said with a mocking laugh.
She swallowed the food in her mouth, hoping she wouldn’t be expected to respond as he leaned forward to glare at her.
She couldn’t help but notice the blue around his eye and the scab holding his split lip together.
She wasn’t sure if it had come from his tumble the night before or if someone had given the man a thrashing. She hoped for the latter.
She felt Ewan’s gaze but had looked away again. “Where is Ronan? It’s not usual for him to sleep through the morning meal,” the man asked after her husband.
“He’s not in our chamber,” Brenna said.
She noticed the frown that had taken over the laird’s wrinkled face. Had something happened to her husband? The food turned to ash in her mouth, and she choked it down with a hard swallow.
“I’m afraid he will not be here for some time,” the man said while staring at her with something akin to pity in his eyes.
“What are you saying? Where has he gone?” Had he left her for another woman? Her chest felt like it might break apart and spill her heart upon the table.
“Ronan left before dawn for France. He will be away for a while.”
Ewan slammed his fist on the table. “Tell me you did not allow him to go off with the MacPherson bastard to fight the French.”
The laird held his hand up to stop him. “Aye. Ronan and I agreed, and I granted him leave.”
“But we only just married.”
Ewan stood. Brenna looked up to see his eyes narrowed on her.
“You have scared him away.”
“Nay,” the laird said. “That’s not why he left. He’d wanted to go for some time, and I hadn’t allowed it, not until he agreed to do his duty and marry.”
Brenna’s world splintered into a thousand painful shards.
She fled from the hall and through the castle gate, not stopping until she was deep in the forest, eventually finding herself kneeling beside a wide river feeding into a loch.
She needed to escape the truth, but no matter where she might run, she’d never be able to escape the terrible reality.
The hurt overwhelmed her, and tears flooded her eyes.
Her husband preferred to risk death in a foreign land rather than stay with her.
She had asked for honesty, and he had betrayed their accord in the worst way.
She would never forgive him.