Chapter Ten
When Torquil sent the missive to Eilidh, he had not foreseen the turn of events their meeting would have. He had meant what he said when he told Eilidh that the choice was hers. He would not force her to do aught that she did not want to do.
Instead of standing up and leaving. She leaned into him, and cupped his face, her thumb stroking his cheek softly. Her eyes were inviting as they bore into his and she smiled sweetly as she spoke.
“I dinnae ken what is passing betwixt us, Torquil. Ye have awakened my body in ways that I didnae ken existed. ’Tis like a flame, building and building, roaring to life like an uncontrollable beast.” Her eyes searched his. “Do ye feel it as weel? Please tell me I am no’ alone in this feeling?”
He caught her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. “Aye,” he whispered. “I feel it, too. Like ye, I, too, havenae experienced such feelings. They are exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. But I fear, no matter how hard I try, they willnae cease. No’ for ye.”
“Where do we go from here?” Her voice was quiet, tentative.
In answer, he captured her mouth in his, his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips, asking for entry. He groaned when she opened her mouth and their tongues collided, gliding against each other in a forbidden dance. He shifted so that Eilidh lay under him as he plundered her mouth.
His nerves ratcheted up. Eilidh had confessed her feelings. He did the same. He should also divulge his own secret that he had kept close. It was not aught he had ever discussed with anyone afore.
“Firebrand. I,” he started and paused, almost losing the nerve to say aught as she looked up at him with such trust in her eyes.
“I am besotted with ye. Ye consume my days, my nights, my dreams. E’ery waking moment ye are on my mind.
” He kissed the tip of her nose and she smiled, a dreamy look on her bonny face. “I wouldnae have it any other way.”
“Nor would I,” Eilidh confessed, twirling the hair at his nape around her fingers.
Her statement gave him the courage he needed to say what had to be said. “This, us being together in the way men and women do. I have ne’er done afore,” he admitted, feeling his face flame.
Eilidh’s fingers stilled in his hair, and for a moment he feared she would turn him away. He would not blame her for doing so. A lass deserved a man well-schooled in the ways of pleasuring a woman to ensure she enjoyed the coupling.
Instead, a wide grin spread across her face and she lifted to whisper in his ear. “Neither have I. I guess we shall learn together.” Then she nipped his lobe and giggled.
The worry that had been coursing through him at the fear of Eilidh’s rejection ebbed out of him. Taking with it his uncertainty, replaced with a newfound confidence Torquil kenned was the direct result of Eilidh’s acceptance of him.
“E’eryone starts somewhere, do they no’?” Eilidh asked.
“Aye,” he whispered.
“Then let us start on this learning adventure.” She smiled broadly and Torquil crushed his lips to hers.
He took her lower lip betwixt his teeth and nipped gently, causing Eilidh to suck in her breath. He moved his lips to her cheek, then down her jawline to her neck.
A gentle kiss.
A wee nip.
Another gentle kiss in the same spot.
Eilidh sighed. Torquil felt her body go languid beneath him.
His manhood was painfully erect. He kenned she could feel it against her thigh, which she shifted slightly, eliciting a hiss from him as he jerked his body back to break the contact. The stimuli too much and he feared he would spend his seed afore they even began.
He had heard his brothers speak enough about their endeavors with lassies that he kenned what he needed to do so that Eilidh was as comfortable as possible.
The thought of causing her pain so they could couple pained him as well.
Reaching out, he began to slowly untie the laces of her gown.
Pulling each tie painfully slow as he revealed her chemise beneath.
Eilidh shifted her hips, pulling up her gown until she finally pulled it over her head and set it in a pile beside them.
She sat up, the neckline of her chemise showing the top of the pale globes of her breasts.
Torquil wet his lips. His mouth suddenly dry as Eilidh smiled wickedly.
With a forwardness he was thankful for, she grasped his hand and placed it on her left breast. He sucked in a breath as he squeezed gently.
He cupped it in his hand, feeling the weight of it.
The softness of it. He could see her hard nipple through the thin fabric and flicked his thumb across the nub.
Eilidh gasped, her body jolting.
“Do that again,” she whispered.
He obliged and she shuddered. He drew the material down, exposing her breast to the air, and for a moment, he took in its beauty.
The milky white flesh, soft under his fingers.
The rosy nipple, hardened into a stiff peak.
With a drop of his head, he drew the taut bud into his mouth, then circled it with his tongue.
He had died and gone to Heaven. That was the only explanation for the euphoria he felt.
Eilidh’s hands tangled in his hair, her groans filling the glen.
He gave her right breast the same amount of attention, not wanting to leave that one out.
He repeated the motions, smiling as Eilidh wriggled beneath him.
He trailed his fingers over her chemise, down betwixt her breasts, down her stomach, her navel, until he reached the apex of her thighs.
Drawing her chemise up around her hips, he swept his fingers through her damp curls.
He felt Eilidh’s breath hitch, and he kissed her neck as he ran his finger along her folds, nudging Eilidh’s legs apart with his forearm. She understood what he was wanting and she spread her legs, giving him the room he needed as he gently inserted a finger into her heat.
Eilidh gasped, her eyes blowing wide.
Torquil stilled.
Eilidh shook her head. “Dinnae stop.”
He eased his finger in and out of her tight heat until he could feel her juices flowing onto his hand, then he added another, continuing the motions.
Eilidh’s moans were growing louder. Her hips beginning to move in rhythm with his hand.
He looked down betwixt them, in awe at the melody they were creating.
Their very own masterpiece.
“Torquil,” she moaned his name and grasped his wrist. “I want more. I want ye.”
He pushed down his trews as Eilidh watched, her eyes widening as his stiff cock sprung free, pointing proudly to the sky.
He pulled his boots off, then carelessly threw his trews to the side on top of Eilidh’s gown.
Wanting naught betwixt them, he tugged at Eilidh’s chemise, and she lifted, then shrugged it off, leaving her naked beneath him.
His eyes wanted to look everywhere all at once. To soak in the beauty of her.
Eilidh reached betwixt them, her hand brushing against the head of his cock and he jolted back.
“Nay, Firebrand. I fear I am ready to spill now. Any touch will surely send me o’er the edge.” He smiled, then grew serious as he settled himself betwixt her thighs, his hardness against her softness. “I have been told the first few moments are painful for the female. But it soon passes.”
Her eyes widened.
“I dinnae want to hurt ye.” He kissed her lips.
Her neck. Then sucked her earlobe into his mouth.
After, he trailed alternating kisses and nips down the column of her neck.
He brought his hand betwixt them, pushing his fingers through her folds, drawing them in and out of her tight heat, until she was writhing beneath him once more.
When he thought the time was right, he entered her, pushing through her maidenhead, and stilled, catching her cry in a long kiss. He waited for her to adjust to him.
“I am so verra sorry,” he cooed, kissing away her tears.
All the while his own body screamed, lost in the sensation of her velvety softness. Her heat pulling him, and he fought the sensation to spill his seed right then and there.
When she finally began to move her hips, he said a small prayer to last more than a few strokes, and pulled out afore pushing back in, her heat enveloping him. His bollocks tightened, and he kenned he was fighting a losing battle.
“I cannae last, Firebrand. ’Tis too much.
Ye are too perfect. Ye feel too divine.” Black spots filled his vision.
He heard his heartbeat in his ears, as he thrust thrice more, a life-shattering shudder overtaking him as he met his climax, his seed spilling into Eilidh’s warmth as he shouted her name.
He collapsed beside her, embarrassed at his performance. He covered his eyes to hide his shame.
He felt Eilidh shift beside him. She pulled at his arm. “Why do ye hide?” she asked softly.
“I was selfish. Ye didnae reach yer climax. I should have taken more heed to ensure ye did. I must apologize.”
“Look at me.” She forced his arm away from his eyes.
Scared to see her look of disgust, he shook his head.
“Torquil MacGregor. I insist ye look at me this verra moment.” Her voice was strong. Demanding.
He did as he was told, surprised to see a look of, not disgust, but, was that adoration on her face?
“Ye werenae selfish.” She stroked his cheek with her finger. “Ye took care to make sure my pain was lessened. Ye cannae help what is out of yer control. Just as I had to go through the pain, ye had to go through yer inability for control. ’Tis nature. No’ aught ye have done wrong.”
He captured her fingers and kissed each fingertip. “I dinnae believe I deserve yer understanding.”
She smiled, then lifted a brow. “Besides, now that we have passed that necessary step, we can continue properly, aye?”
He grinned. “Aye. I will make for certs of it.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let us get ye cleaned up first.”
She let him pull her up to stand beside him and looked at the blanket, noticing the blood there and frowned. “I have ruined it.”
“Nay, ye have created a memory that will live on betwixt us.”