Chapter Twelve

Thinking of bedding Dorie made Bryce give his horse another nudge to hasten his trip. He’d been in a hurry to get away from her, and now he was equally eager to get back so he could report to Lach and then go and find his wife.

He arrived late in the afternoon after stopping at the loch to bathe.

He was glad to be back inside the walls of Dunardry. Normally he would have seen to his own horse, but as hungry as he was—for both food and company—he passed his beast off to a groom and headed for the hall.

Everyone was just gathering for the evening meal, so he went to the head table to speak to Lach and Cam about what he’d encountered on the McCurdy border. He was deep in conversation when the hall went quiet. He looked up to see what had caught everyone’s attention, and stared at the vision coming toward him, stunned.

’Twas his wife.

The new gown she wore was blue and called notice to the blue of her eyes.

Her gaze was focused on the floor as if she were afraid of making a misstep. Or perhaps she was focused on her breasts—as he was—for they were practically popping out of her bodice. This dress was cut low and her breasts were pushed up, giving the illusion of escape. Perhaps she couldn’t see past them.

Her gaze moved up for a moment and she stopped there in the middle of the hall, gazing at him in surprise.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered to the smiling women beside him.

“Aye. We thought you would be pleased.”

“Pleased?” Was he pleased? She was lovely, it was true. Her midnight hair had been brushed to a high shine and piled on top her head. A few wisps touched her elegant neck.

He’d known attraction before. But this was more than attraction, this was full-on lust. When he’d dreamed of her, she’d come to him rumpled and uncertain as he was used to seeing her. Not this graceful vixen.

The knowledge that he could actually have her because they were wed took his excitement to a higher level than he’d experienced in ages.

Not since—

“Bloody hell,” he repeated. “What did you do to her?”

Instead of answering, Kenna frowned and nodded at Dorie, who was still motionless in the hall. “Go to her and lead her to the table as your mother taught you, Bryce Thomas.”

Jumping up, he hurried to his wife’s side and led her to the table.

“You look beautiful,” he said, gazing down at her breasts. They were even more glorious up close. What spell had she placed on him?

When she smiled back at him, his earlier plan to offer meaningless words went to hell. For when he leaned over and said, “The gown is lovely, but I can’t wait to have you out of it,” he meant every word.

…

Dorie’s hands trembled as they approached the chamber she would be sharing with her husband. Tonight was different from the last time they’d entered his chamber together. She could walk under her own power for one thing, but that wasn’t the only difference. The air between them practically sizzled with attraction.

She wondered what had caused his reaction. Surprisingly, it wasn’t just the new gown and having her hair done. He’d hardly looked at her dress or her hair. His gaze had been on her face.

And her breasts.

The women in the kitchen had mentioned how enthralled men were with breasts. It was the reason Kenna and Mari had designed this gown with such a low neckline, despite Dorie’s protests. They just smiled and told her to trust them.

So she had. And look what had happened.

She swallowed. Exactly what she’d wanted to happen. The way Bryce was looking at her—as though she were a gooseberry tart—made her heart pound. She’d never felt like this before—nervous and hot and cold and shivery all at the same time—but she knew from listening to Kenna’s bawdy talk that it would all end in enjoyment. Or so the other women had made it seem. Dorie now wished she had asked for more details.

So far, all she knew was she was supposed to put her mouth…somewhere…and he would fall helpless to her wishes. Surely Bryce would be able to instruct her in the ways a wife was supposed to please her husband.

She whimpered when he shut the door behind him, leaving the dog on the other side. He slid the bar into place and turned toward her. Pushing away the fear of being trapped, she forced a smile to her lips. The door was locked from the inside. She could get out if she needed to.

And at the moment, she didn’t want to go anywhere. Because Bryce was here with her.

“Would you like help unlacing your gown?” he asked. The suggestion was politely helpful, but the tone of his voice and the way he watched her sent a thrill through her whole being.

She nodded and lit another lamp by the bed.

He came closer and bent his head right by her neck. She could feel his breath on her skin and closed her eyes, letting the warmth settle over her. He’d just untied her laces and had loosened the strings when his hands stilled.

She felt his tension and turned to see what was amiss. He was standing and staring at the nightstand where she’d set out her things. His eyes, filled with hunger just a moment ago, were hard and angry.

She stepped away, holding her gown in front of her.

Was he angry that she’d put her things out to be seen? Perhaps he liked things to be tidy and put away.

“Why do you have these? They’re not yours,” he snapped. “I will see you get what you need. Put these back where you got them this instant.”

Jumping, she lurched forward and picked up the brush and comb set. She spun toward the door. She’d managed to get the bar off while still holding up her dress, but Bryce was there again, even angrier.

“Where do you think you’re going? Give them to me.” He snatched them from her hands and marched to the trunk at the end of the bed. Throwing open the lid, he stopped abruptly. He must have seen the brush and comb set she’d found there before. The set that looked so similar to the one the dowager had given her.

He turned to Dorie, confusion on his face. “These aren’t Maggie’s.”

She shook her head quickly.

“I thought you—” He stopped and took a step toward her.

She jumped back and winced, expecting pain.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

She would have liked to see the expression on his face, but tears had blurred her vision and were now streaming down her cheeks.

“Lass…” He took the set and returned them to the small table by the bed. “I’m so sorry.”

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and stood uncertainly in the middle of the room. She could see clearly enough to take in the pain in his eyes. She didn’t know what she’d done to cause him such agony, but she didn’t want him to hurt. He’d been hurting for so long.

When she reached out, he turned sharply and went to the door. Her hand dropped as he opened it, and she braced herself for the door to close and the suffocating feeling of being trapped to grip her. But it didn’t come.

Instead of leaving the room as she expected, he paused there for a long moment, then closed the door again and slid the bar back in place.

He came to stand before her, lifting his gaze to meet hers. “I used to run away when I’d upset Maggie, to give us time to calm down and speak without angry words between us.” He ran his hand over his hair. “I deserve your angry words. I deserve to have you yell and call me horrible names. But you won’t, because you won’t talk to me.”

He looked toward the door and then back to her. Gazing at her intently, he said, “I know you can speak. I heard you talk to your dog. I even heard ye singing one day when I came to see you.”

She gasped, eyes going wide with distress. He’d been at the cottage? He’d heard her when she thought she was alone?

He took her hand and guided her closer. She let him, though she was trembling inwardly.

“I’m sorry for yelling, for accusing you of something you didn’t do. In truth, I should have given you those things in the trunk. They aren’t doing anyone any good in there. I’m sorry I’ve been a bastard to you. I’ve been so intent on keeping everyone at a distance, I hadn’t realized what an arse I’ve become.”

He took her other hand and rubbed circles on the back with his thumbs. It was a pleasant feeling and she relaxed, moving toward him slightly. When he released her hand, it was to place his fingers gently on her cheek. She watched his eyes, waiting for his mood to shift again. She didn’t expect him to lean in closer.

“Can you forgive me for yelling?”

She nodded. Forgiving him was an easy thing to do.

It wasn’t until his warm lips were pressed to hers that she realized his plan had been to kiss her.

A small sound left her throat. If he hadn’t already known she could speak, it might have given her away. He made an answering noise, as if they were creating their own form of communication.

She enjoyed the way his mouth fit against hers. The way his lips moved over hers. Small nibbles at the edges of her mouth. Then his tongue teased at the seam of her lips and she parted them.

The small opening she offered was breached by his tongue, and it searched her mouth. His actions startled her at first, not knowing the ways of kissing since this was only the second time in her life, but when it seemed as though he wanted her to participate, she reached out with her own tongue and stroked his.

The sound he made this time was much louder and filled with need.

His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him. Her hands had still been holding up her gown, but she dropped it and trailed her fingers up over his large shoulders to his neck so she could twine them in his hair. Her dress slipped dangerously low on her breasts.

She was lost. She’d seen people kissing before, but it hadn’t looked like this. She’d seen men and women as they slipped away to their rooms or to the darkness of the forest.

She’d been too young to want to know what happened when they were alone. But now she wished she’d had someone to tell her the way of things so she knew what to expect.

“Have you lain with a man?” he asked, pulling away.

She shook her head, her breath coming fast as if she’d been running or hiding.

“I know you were supposed to be a virgin when we were wed, but it wouldn’t matter to me if you were or were not. I only ask to be sure you know what is done.”

She shook her head again but held on to his arm, hoping he wouldn’t leave.

He rested his forehead against hers and offered a soft smile. “Very well. We’ll go slow,” he whispered.

Slow? She might not know what she wanted, but she was fairly certain it wasn’t to go slow. Not with the way her heart pounded and her breath quickened. She felt jittery, ready for something amazing to happen.

But she allowed him to do as he wished, since he had more experience with such things. Slowly, he peeled her dress from her body and helped her out of her boots. Then he took her hair down, running his fingers through it.

Something deep inside her throbbed and ached. What was he doing to her? She was as terrified as she was intrigued. Whatever being a real wife entailed, she wanted it. Very much.

She leaned closer and kissed him. She felt his lips pull up against hers and enjoyed the feeling of knowing she’d brought a smile to the face of this normally stoic man.

When he pulled away she made a sound of complaint, and the smile grew, causing a small dimple to form on the left side of his mouth.

She’d thought her husband attractive, formidable, and handsome. But now she also thought him incredibly adorable. He looked almost boyish when he grinned like that.

Then he moved away from her. She reached for him, wanting him in her arms again, but he reached behind his neck and tugged his shirt over his head. He took a step closer when she held out her hand and allowed her to run her palm down his chest, over the hard ridges of his stomach.

Her hand was stopped by his belt. She frowned down at the fabric of his kilt that was keeping her from seeing and touching every part of him.

With a wink he reached past her hand and unfastened his belt. “Don’t be afraid when you see me. It will be all right, I promise.”

She nodded that she understood, but when his kilt dropped to his feet, she did not understand at all.

A hard length of flesh shot up toward her, causing her to yelp with surprise. She’d never seen such a thing. Her own body surely wasn’t built like that.

Her confusion must have shown on her face. After another laugh, he took her hand and placed it on the part of him that was so different from her.

He groaned, but the smile remained on his face, proving he enjoyed the torment. She looked down at the odd thing, noticing how smooth it was, as if the skin had never been touched by the sun or any harshness the world had to offer.

She gasped when she recalled something similar Millie had said about her husband’s cock.

So, this was a cock.

And she was touching it. If she remembered correctly, he would be putting it inside her.

Inside? Nay. That wasn’t possible.

And another thing… Millie had said she was to put her mouth on it. Good lord. How would she ever fit this into her mouth?

Her breath, which had already been coming quickly, picked up speed until she felt she might faint with panic.

“Calm down,” he said softly. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard about what happens next, but I promise you, all will be well.”

She didn’t see how. She needed to leave. Her body might enjoy his touch—more than enjoy it, to be honest—but what was to happen next would be too much.

But before she could flee, he reached up and cupped one of her breasts. She froze and made another sound as the ache she’d been feeling in her heavy breasts eased slightly.

“Do you like when I touch you here?”

She did. She nodded quickly so he would know how very much she liked it. He bent and placed his mouth over the peak, using his tongue to rasp a particularly sensitive area. Blissful sensation shivered through her. She whimpered and nearly lost her balance.

His arms found her and held her steady, somehow without releasing his mouth. He walked toward the bed and she suddenly realized her feet were off the floor. She had a feeling of floating, and then he leaned her over the edge of the bed and fell on top of her. But she didn’t feel smashed by his weight, she felt only the warmth of his skin on hers as he held himself above her.

He moved to her other breast, and she wiggled on the bed, unsure how to ask for what she wanted, even if she were willing to speak. There were no words for what she needed. At least none that she knew.

She’d been so focused on what his mouth was doing, she hadn’t realized his hand had moved down her body. She sucked in a breath when he pushed one of his fingers inside her, filling a place she hadn’t known existed. The pleasure made her cry out in surprise.

“Do ye like that?”

Another nod.

“When you’re ready, I’m going to put this part of me here in this spot,” he said as he took her hand and pressed it against the hard bulge.

She had no idea how mating worked. Being locked in her room, she’d never even had the opportunity to see animals doing it. His explanation seemed a bit preposterous, but she trusted him, and she did like the way he’d made her feel thus far.

She was sure she would like whatever came next as well. Certainly the women in the kitchen seemed to like it.

He shifted and slid a second finger inside her. He waited and she relaxed as her body acclimated to the feeling. When he still didn’t move, she pressed down, relying on instincts to direct her. She pulled her hips back and pushed forward again, moaning at the pleasure building deep inside her.

He whispered words, but she didn’t hear all of them. The ones she was able to focus on told her to seek out what felt good. To enjoy the moment.

In truth, she hadn’t a clue what was happening. She was simply dizzy with the sensations. Something unfamiliar was building inside her, and every thrust of his hand brought her closer to whatever it was.

He moved his fingers.

It was the slightest change in angle, but it was enough to push her all the way over whatever mountain she’d been climbing.

But instead of falling, she flew.