Chapter 21 #2
“And all that I am is yers.” He shook his head, admiration in his eyes.
“I havena the words to describe how beautiful ye are to me,” he told her, unable to take his gaze from her.
“When I first saw ye, yer hair fascinated me.” He brushed an errant lock off her cheek.
“’Tis like the dawn, gold with a touch of blush to warm it.
But now, seeing all of ye … I could never have imagined the beauty that awaited me. ”
She stepped closer to him, lifted her arms and wrapped her hands around his neck.
The sensation of his body pressed against her sent waves of heat rolling through hers.
He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his hips.
His manhood teased her yearning center. But he reined in his desire, though from the way his jaw clenched and sweat beaded his forehead, it took all the strength he had.
A heady sense of power roared through her. He was bigger and stronger, but she could drive him to his knees.
Instead he walked to the bed and laid her on it, then knelt with her legs over his shoulders and kissed his way up her thighs.
“Anders …”
The plea in her voice encouraged him to taste and suckle her until she arched up and cried out his name.
While her body danced in joyful spasms, he used his finger to stretch her and extend her peak.
When she stilled, he stood and slid her more fully onto the bed, knelt over her and paused. “’Tis time, Love. If ye are ready?”
“I am, Husband,” she answered with an eager smile as she opened her eyes to his handsome face. How she wanted him! Her body cried out for his touch, for him to fill the emptiness within her. “Make me yers.”
Anders gazed at his bride with love and amazement.
She was far from his first, but she was different from all the others.
She reached into his soul and made him feel things he’d thought himself incapable of feeling.
The bond between them was deeper than any he’d experienced before her, and after this night, it would be unbreakable.
He’d once despaired of ever finding a love like his twin shared with his bride, but in Ailsa, Anders had everything he had hoped for, and more.
She had cared for him when he didn’t even know himself.
She had fought for him against her father and laird.
And she had saved him and his men. His was a bride worthy of Sutherland.
Worthy to be the wife of a laird. Worthy to give him bairns and a future he had only dreamt of.
He could barely breathe with wanting her.
Her skin under his fingertips was softer and smoother than the finest French velvet.
Her breath warmed his skin and her scent made him crave her taste all the more.
He needed to touch her, to press her body against his and take her mouth.
The thought was sweet torture. His pulse pounded in his throat like the slap of oars on deep water.
He wanted more, but he didn’t dare move too fast. “I will take care with ye, Love, and never hurt ye, save this once. Do ye ken?”
“I do. All of it. And I ken ye will always take care of me, Anders.”
“As ye have taken care of me, Love. I owe my life to ye several times over.”
“I will happily spend mine with ye,” she said.
His member prodded at her entrance and she slipped her legs apart in invitation.
He pushed inside, slowly, gently, until he met a barrier.
“Now, Love,” he breathed to warn her. At her nod, he pushed all the way in, breaching her maidenhead.
Even though she said she expected it, her gasp made him regret the harm he’d done.
After a moment, she assured him, “I’m well, Anders. ’Twas a surprise the way it felt, ’tis all.”
“Take as long as ye need, lass, to accustom yerself to me. I ken ’tis strange.”
“Aye, ’tis. And wonderful. We are joined as one. I am truly yers now, and ye are mine. ’Tis time, Husband. I want more.”
“Ye shall have more.” He pulled most of the way out, then slid gently back in, letting her set his pace by her reactions, how she moved, how she gripped him with her sheath.
When she lifted her hips to take him deeper, he answered her demand, increasing his pace until she cried out his name and shuddered with the pleasure he gave her.
Then, he surrendered to the desire he’d fought for weeks.
She was his! His climax took him under, rolling him as though he was caught in a heated undertow, until he broke the surface and saw stars—bright, beautiful stars.
All while his seed filled her and she cried out his name yet again.
“I love ye, Ailsa,” he told her when he could speak again. “I always will.”
It took all of two days to prepare Ailsa’s belongings for the move to Sutherland.
Her mother wisely made an event of what could have been a sad chore, letting her friends Siobhan and Maesie and others help her pack her belongings and choose mementos of Sinclair to take with her, many of which were gifts from her friends and admirers.
She had not expected so many, or such expressions of sorrow at her impending departure, but she accepted them with grace, grateful to realize she had more friends in Sinclair than had ever made their feelings known.
The wedding gift from her parents, a heavy gold chain from which hung a rare bright blue topaz gemstone framed in more gold, she wore under her clothes.
She thought she was nearing the end of her packing when Siobhan knocked on her door. “I just finished these,” Siobhan told her, arms full of dresses as she entered the chamber.
“What have ye done?” Ailsa hugged her and after Siobhan put down her burdens on the bed, smoothed and admired them.
Siobhan had made her wedding dress and nightgown, but now also gave her three new dresses.
“Yer parents asked for these, for ye to wear at Sutherland. I also made several nightgowns yer parents ken naught about.”