Chapter 29
POV: Sorsha
Slipping between the sheets, I waited for Callum to finish bathing, not sure if I was excited or nervous. While I’d been crying by the river, he’d cleaned up and repaired everything, and Mabel was back in the lean-to munching on hay. There was no trace of what had happened before.
He truly was an amazing man, and I was silly to think he wouldn’t want me. I had to remember—actions spoke louder than words, and all his actions showed a man who cared.
He came in with only his towel slung around his hips. This time, he let it drop and climbed in beside me. Naked.
“You don’t need a nightdress, sweetheart,” he said, tugging at the fabric.
“That’s… um, shameless,” I muttered.
“I’m your husband. I’m allowed to see every part of you. Besides, I’ve seen it before,” he chuckled.
“When?”
“After you drank the tea and…” His face turned crimson, words trailing off.
“And?” I pressed, suspicion curling through me. Had he watched me bathe at the brook?
He shook his head, but I rolled on top of him, cradling his face. “Tell me. Did you sneak up on me when I bathed or when I washed my dress?”
“I did not!” His arms slid around me, and my boldness backfired—bringing me closer instead of answers. The ridge of his manhood pressed against me, heat sparking between us.
“Sometimes,” he admitted low, “when you walked past me with your dress damp… with the sun behind you… I could see everything.”
“Nooo,” I whispered, stunned.
My old threadbare dresses had been see-through, and I’d never even realized. Had I really walked around town like that, clueless for all to see?
“Only when they were wet,” Callum added quickly, as if he’d guessed exactly where my thoughts had gone.
“That’s bad enough,” I said, rolling off him and covering my eyes in shame.
He turned onto his side and propped his head on one hand. With the fingertips of the other, he traced a slow path from my shoulder down my arm.
He didn’t stop there, letting his hand trail over my nightdress to the hem, then slipping beneath to find my skin.
I kept still, not knowing what to do. It felt naughty but also nice, and the longer his hand lingered, the more I wanted him to keep going. My breath caught when his fingers brushed across my ribs, then lower, touching where no one had ever felt before.
A warmth bloomed in me that I didn’t have words for, only a need that made me restless under his hand.
Callum’s touch was slow, almost careful, as though he was giving me time to stop him if I wanted. Instead, I shifted closer, and that seemed to be all the answer he needed. His palm flattened against my stomach, and then he began to ease the fabric up.
I clutched at the blanket, torn between covering myself and letting him see me. My heart hammered so loud I was sure he could hear it. This was what married couples did, yet I was still nervous, wary that I might not like it, ignoring the feelings rushing through me.
The hem of the nightdress rose higher, his knuckles grazing my thigh, then my waist. It bunched over my breasts, and Callum tugged it over my head, one hand lifting me before he tossed the nightdress aside.
I lay bare before him, skin prickling with nerves and excitement all at once. I didn’t know how to explain it—this mix of shame and thrill, fear and wanting—but I knew I wanted him to keep touching me, everywhere.
He kissed me again and rolled over me, forearms braced to take his weight. My legs parted of their own accord, and I threaded my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. The feeling of skin against skin was a pleasure I didn’t expect.
Little shivers raced through me, and a strange pressure built between my legs. “You are so beautiful, my wife,” Callum murmured between kisses, his pelvis pressing into mine.
It was scary. I wanted to stop, but my body didn’t. How was that possible? The tip of his manhood brushed my entrance, and I stiffened.
“It’s okay—we’ll go slowly,” he whispered, raining kisses over my face.
I wanted him inside me, but fear lingered, the memory of his size making me worry it would hurt.
Slowly, he pressed into me, then withdrew, setting a rhythm that somehow my body began to follow without thinking. Heat flared, a fire building low in my belly, stronger than anything I had ever felt.
At first, there was a sharp stretch that made me wince, but Callum hushed me with kisses, his lips soft and coaxing. He paused whenever I tensed, waiting until I relaxed before moving again.
My breath came quick, broken between gasps, as though I was climbing a hill and didn’t know what lay on the other side.
“It hurts a little,” I whispered, clutching at his shoulders.
“I know,” he said, his forehead pressed to mine. “But it will pass. Just hold on to me.”
So I did. I wrapped my arms around him and let him set the pace, slow and steady, until the pain ebbed and something else rose in its place. The fire returned, burning hotter, and the ache between my legs turned into a pulse that matched his rhythm.
My hips began to move with his, as though they knew what to do all along.
A cry escaped me, half surprise, half delight, and he swallowed it in a kiss. His weight pressed me into the bed, his chest against mine, skin against skin, and I wanted more—closer, deeper, until there was no space left between us.
The fire inside me swelled until it broke, rushing through me like a wave that left me trembling and clinging to him. I buried my face against his neck, shuddering as the last of it faded.
Callum held still, his body still joined with mine, his arms strong around me. “So beautiful,” he whispered against my hair, his voice rough. Then he moved again, chasing his own release, and I held him tight, letting him find it.
When at last he stilled, his body heavy over mine, he rolled to the side and gathered me close, both of us damp with sweat, our breaths unsteady.
I lay there stunned, my heart racing, not knowing how to put words to what had just happened.
I understood now why my mother hadn’t enjoyed it with my father. Why she’d lain still, turned away, never moving. She hadn’t loved him, and without love, there could be no joy in it.
“How was that?” Callum asked.
“I didn’t know it could be like this; otherwise, I might have tried earlier,” I admitted.
Callum barked a laugh. “Anytime you want to catch up, just let me know.”