Chapter 19
Private Chambers
After their baths, Ros and Guntar carried the tubs away while Hilde left fresh linen on the rail and a candle burning on the washstand. Mint paste, clean drying cloths, everything in its place. When they were gone it was just Una and Cormac in their chamber.
Cormac moved about the room with ease, bolting the door, setting his sword on the chest, checking the shutters. Una sat on the edge of the bed in her clean shift, her hair loose and damp around her shoulders, drawing the comb through it in slow strokes as she watched him.
He had shaved. The road-worn version of him she had grown accustomed to was gone.
Cormac turned from the window and crossed the room. He sat beside her on the bed and watched her plait her long hair, seemingly hypnotized by the sight of it, his gaze moving over her slowly. When she finished, she turned and moved closer.
Their lips brushed.
"Kiss me, wife," Cormac said.
Una kissed him.
***
HIS HANDS CAME UP TO her face. She gripped the front of his shirt and kissed him with abandon.
He drew back just enough to look at her. "Are ye well?" he said. "After the road. Truly."
She understood what he was asking. "Aye," she said. "I am no longer sore."
The relief in his face was real. He kissed her again.
Cormac laid her back against the pillow. His mouth moved to her jaw, her throat, the soft skin below her ear, and she tipped her head back and gave him full access.
His hands found the hem of her shift and she lifted her arms and let him pull it free.
He sat back and studied her.
"Cormac," she whispered.
"Hush," he replied. "Just let me look my fill."
Then his head dipped and his mouth closed over her nipple.
Una gasped. Her hand flew to his hair.
Cormac suckled her slowly, drawing her in deep, his tongue working tight circles around the stiffened peak until the heat of it went straight to her belly and she arched into his mouth.
He moved to her other breast and did it again, harder this time, pulling at her nipple with his lips until she was moaning his name.
His hand slid down her stomach, past her navel, and found the slick heat between her thighs.
"May I?" he murmured against her breast.
"Please," she whimpered, and meant it.
***
HE STROKED HER SLOWLY, fingers sliding through her wet heat, his thumb finding the small swollen nub and circling it. Her hips lifted off the mattress. Una moaned low in her throat and he pressed his mouth to her neck.
Una reached for him, working his tunic free before wrapping her hand around his hardened length. The sound she drew from him was low and guttural.
She stroked him slowly, feeling him slick against her palm. His forehead dropped to hers. His jaw was tight.
"Una," he growled.
She stroked him harder.
"Ye dinnae have to do this," he started.
Without second-guessing herself, Una moved down his body, dipped her head, and ran her tongue slowly across the tip of his cock.
The breath left Cormac in a rush. His hand fisted in her hair, not directing, just holding on, as he watched her take him fully into her mouth.
Una worked him with her tongue, slow and thorough, learning what made his thighs tense and his breathing go ragged, as he made sounds low in his chest that she felt everywhere. He said her name twice.
Finally, unable to take any more, Cormac pulled her back up to him and kissed her deep and hard.
His fingers trailed down and found the swollen nub again, working it in firm circles until she was rocking against his hand.
She grabbed his wrist and held it there until she broke apart with a cry he caught with his mouth.
***
CORMAC TURNED HER SO her back was pressed to his front.
Hands at her waist, firm and sure, drawing her up onto her knees.
She felt the solid heat of his chest against her back, his mouth at her neck, then his hand sliding around to cup her breast, fingers rolling her nipple until she made a raw, involuntary sound.
"All right?" he asked against her ear.
"Aye," she managed. "Don't ye dare stop."
He needed no further encouragement. Cormac nudged against her entrance and thrust forward, filling her in one deep stroke.
Una dropped her head back against his shoulder as he began moving hard and steady, his face buried against her nape, both of them stifling the sound of their passion against each other's skin.
"Pinch yer nipples," he growled in her ear.
Una obeyed. She felt every tweak shoot fire directly from her breast to her womb.
His hand slid down and found the slick nub between her thighs, thumb circling it without mercy. He thrust into her hard from behind. With his other hand he gathered her plaited hair in his fist and pulled her back, holding her in place as he quickened his pace.
"I thought about this," he said, rough and low at her ear. "The first time I saw ye plait yer hair. I thought about doing exactly this to ye. Having ye at my mercy as I take ye from behind."
She laughed, breathless and shaking. "Ye wicked, wicked man."
"Only for ye," he groaned, and plunged into her over and over again.
Una lost all semblance of control. She pushed back against every thrust. He drove deeper. Cormac groaned low and she felt it everywhere.
"Come on," he said against her neck. "Let me feel ye."
She came apart at his words, clenching hard around him, her whole body shuddering, a broken cry smothered against his neck. Cormac drove into her three more times, deep and hard, then buried himself to the hilt and pressed his face to her shoulder as he roared his release.
***
THEY COLLAPSED TOGETHER, breathing hard, and he gathered her into his arms so she lay against his chest. The fire had burned low. The candle guttered. The castle was quiet around them.
After a long while of soft caresses and slow kisses in the firelight, Una asked, "Yer friend. The one ye are meeting tomorrow. Who is he?"
"An old acquaintance. Someone I do business with from time to time. He often has work for me and my men."
"In the castle."
"Aye. Ye could say he works within the castle grounds."
She was quiet a moment, her fingers tracing slow circles on his chest. "And the matter of Laird Gunn of Caithness. Will ye be able to address that?"
His hand, moving across her back, stilled briefly. "How do ye know about Laird Gunn?"
"When we were taken by the mercenaries," she replied.
A short pause. "I will find a way to report the matter to the proper authorities. It will be dealt with."
"Lady Fenella is not a woman I am particularly fond of," Una said. "But I would not wish what nearly happened to me on anyone. Her family should know there are people looking to capture her."
"Aye. It will be seen to."
She believed him. She settled back against his chest.
"There is one more thing," he said, after a moment.
"Mm."
"My father is the Stewart Laird."
She went still.
"The family seat is north of here, a few days ride. It is where we will live, when I am not on the road."
She raised her head and looked at him. He met her eyes steadily.
"Yer father is a laird," she said.
"Aye."
"And yer home is a Keep?"
"Aye."
She stared at him. "I am going to live in a Keep?"
"Ye are going to live in yer home," he said. "With yer husband. The Keep is merely the building it happens to be in."
"Cormac."
"Aye."
"I am a seamstress from a small village."
"Ye are my wife," he said. "Who happens to be a talented seamstress."
She looked at him for a long moment. He gazed back without apology.
Una laid her head back down on his chest. "Ye might have mentioned that earlier," she said. "If I'd known ye were a laird's son, I would never have married ye."
"Too bad, Una Stewart. Ye cannot change it now, so ye may as well get used to it."
She made a small sound of protest but settled into his arms.
She was warm. She was tired. She was sated.
Soon they both closed their eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
***
UNA WOKE TO DAYLIGHT through the shutters and Cormac already awake beside her, watching her quietly.
"Good morning, wife," he said.
"Good morning, husband," she replied.
"How do ye feel? Are ye sore from my attentions?"
Una blushed. "No. I am very well."
He studied her to make sure she was not lying. "Then 'tis a good thing, because we have a busy day today."
"What is happening?"
"I have an appointment to see my friend, but the seamstress will be here for ye after we break our fast."
They washed and dressed, moving around each other in the chamber with ease, Cormac stepping aside for her at the washstand, her handing him his belt without being asked.
When she was dressed he crossed the room and kissed her, slow and unhurried, his hands framing her face, and she kissed him back and let herself have the moment.
It was as if they had been living together for months, not mere days.
Eventually Cormac smiled and went to find Seumas.
Una stood in the middle of the chamber and looked at the tapestries on the walls and the curtained bed and the clothes press that now held her things alongside his, and felt the full weight of the previous night settle over her.
She had married a laird's son. She was going to live in a Keep.
She took a deep breath and walked across the corridor for breakfast.
***
THE DRAWING ROOM WAS warm and already occupied. Seumas, Ros, and Tam were tucking into a hearty breakfast while Guntar and Hilde moved about the room setting out dishes.
Cormac pulled out a chair for Una when she came in and put the best of the bread and cheese in front of her without comment.
She looked at him. "Ye are going to keep doing that, aren't ye."
"Doing what?" he asked, entirely innocent.
"Serving me the best portions."
"Aye. Only the best will do for my lady wife."
She shook her head but tucked in, as she was famished.
As they ate and talked, Una noticed Cormac speaking to Seumas in low tones. She found herself wondering whether she was the subject, and whether she was fit for court.