Page 74 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
“Good,” the priest said and smiled. “Then let’s begin.”
CHAPTER 32
The wedding had been a brief and somewhat solemn affair. Having the Council there almost felt like they’d invited a group of judges in to oversee the entire affair. But they had gotten through it, had enjoyed the feast that followed, and finally retired to their chambers together.
Struan sat on the stone sill of the window, staring out at the cold, silvery night beyond, his heart full and a smile on his face he hadn’t been able to remove all day.
“So, we’re married,” he said. “Ye are finally me wife.”
“And we’re nae pretendin’ this time.”
Struan laughed at the memory. He turned and watched her wiggling out of the wedding gown. He admired the way it clung to her generous curves and appreciated even more, the sight of the cool, alabaster-colored skin beneath it. She really was themost beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life and the thought that he would get to wake up next to her every morning made his skin tingle and warm from head to toe.
After hanging up her wedding gown with great care, Isolde slipped into a simple, unadorned dress. With a soft, shy smile on her face, she padded over to the sill and stood in front of him caressing his hair. He could see there was something on her mind. He took her hands in his and stared into her eyes for a moment, waiting for her speak.
“I want tae dae more tae help ye fight against me faither.”
“What are ye sayin’?”
“I want tae help ye free yer braither.”
“Ye’ve naethin’ tae prove tae anybody, me love.”
“’Tis nae about provin’ something. ‘Tis about tryin’ tae make up fer what me faither’s done,” she said. “I’ve got a debt tae yer clan and I want tae start payin’ that.”
He shook his head. “Ye’ve got nay debt tae pay. ‘Tis yer faither who owes the debt and I aim tae make sure he pays it.”
“I want tae come with ye.”
“Nay. ‘Tis too dangerous. I cannae dae what I need tae dae if I’m worried about ye,” he replied softly. “And nay matter what, I’d be worried about ye. Because I love ye too much tae nae worry.”
Her expression softened slightly, but Struan could still see the frustration in her eyes. Despite what he said, she still felt like she bore some responsibility for the things her father had done. It was admirable. Noble. Brave. But there was no way Struan was going to let her go into a battlefield with two men who were desperate to get their hands on her.
Struan offered her a gentle smile. She was angry at her father and at Dougal, and Struan knew he had to find a way to channel that into something productive—and safe—or risk having her do something rash.
“I’ll tell ye what,” he started. “I think it wise fer ye tae ken how tae defend yerself if somethin’ were tae happen. Ye should ken how tae fight and wield a blade.”
A wan smile graced her lips. “It would be helpful, aye.”
“Then I promise tae teach ye. But now I believe we have more… pressing things tae consider,” he looked at her as if a predator stalked its pray and her eyes fell on his rising erection. “’Tis our wedding night, Isolde… and from today ye are officiallymine.”
Slowly Struan stood and slipped behind her. As he slid his hands down to her hips, he felt her shudder as a low whimper passed her lips. All at once, the air between them grew heavy and charged, crackling with a heat and tension. He remained behindher, hands on her hips, and all he could think of was how soft yet firm she felt beneath his hands.
She leaned back against him, and Struan breathed in her scent. Turning around in his grasp, Isolde turned her face up to him, her full, pillowy lips parted and her eyes glimmering with need. She slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him down into a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Struan melted into her, gripping her waist and pulled her to him.
As she ground her body against his, Struan reveled in the feeling of her soft, full breasts pressed to his chest and felt his arousal growing even harder. She pulled back and stared into his eyes, biting her bottom lip with a seductive look on her face while she stroked his arousal through his breeches. Struan moaned and felt a sharp quiver run through his body.
He quirked a half-grin at her. “Seems like ye understood what I had in mind fer our wedding night, eh?”
She squeaked as Struan scooped her up and as if she weighed nothing at all, he carried her over to the bed. Their mouths crashed together, their tongues lashing each other desperately as the heat between them grew. Struan planted a line of kisses down her neck as he unlaced her bodice then pulled it down, exposing her full, round breasts. He bent down, gently kneading one of her breasts, circling the pert nipple with his thumb while he flicked his tongue over the other. She gasped as he gently grazed it with his teeth.
“Me God,” she gasped.
He found her mouth again and kissed her deeply as she fumbled with the laces of his breeches. She was able to get them undone, then reached inside and grabbed hold of his shaft. The warmth and softness of her touch sent bolts of lightning crackling through his veins and he threw his head back, a low groan passing his lips as she stroked him. Isolde tightened her grip and pumped her hand up and down the length of his shaft, making him quiver and moan.
“Bleedin’ hell,” he croaked.
As she stroked him, Struan pushed the hem of her night dress up around her waist. He slid his hand between her thighs and stroked her wetness with his fingertips. As he circled her button, adding pressure to it, Isolde quivered and bit her bottom lip. Her eyes rolled back, and a low, trembling moan passed her lips. Struan plunged two fingers into her sex, making her cry out. She pulled hard on his member, making him wince, as her body grew taut.
