“Thank ye, M’Laird.” Finley nodded, smiling. “We re most grateful, an’ we will dae anythin’ we can tae help ye.”
“Then come and eat,” he invited them.
They followed him, and Finley said quietly: “I am sorry about the ring, Isla. It was May’s, an’ it was a’ I could give ye at this moment. I will buy ye a better one when I can.” He looked ashamed.
“I don’t want another ring,” Isla told him firmly. “I will be proud to wear your mother’s ring for as long as I live, Finley. It is my greatest treasure, apart from you, that is.”
Finley hugged her tightly. “What did I dae tae deserve such a wonderful wife?” he asked happily.
* * *
The meal was delicious, but neither of them was really in the mood for eating, and after all the congratulations were said and the toasts drunk, the guests departed, leaving them alone to drink a last glass of wine together.
Isla looked at her ring, smiling. “Isla McGill,” she murmured. “It sounds wonderful, Finley.”
“But we are no’ truly married yet, my love,” he reminded her, with a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.
Isla giggled, her cheeks reddening. “Then it is time we were, is it not?” she asked.
“Past time,” he agreed, then he stood up and bent down to sweep her out of her chair and into his arms. She gave a little squeal of surprise, and he grinned as he carried her upstairs to the special room the Laird had offered them for their wedding night.
Isla’s heart was beating nineteen to the dozen as they reached the door; this was the moment when she would finally know what it felt like to be one with a man. However, he was not just any man, but Finley McGill, the love of her life.
When he set her down, Isla could see that he was trembling with an emotion he was finding it hard to contain.
“Isla,” he whispered, “I love ye so much.”
“Not as much as I love you,” she whispered, pulling his shirt out of the belt around his kilt. “I have never made love with a man before, Finley, so you will have to be my teacher.”
He smiled at her lovingly. “Tell me if there is anythin’ that hurts ye, sweetheart, an’ I will stop.” His voice was husky as he began to undo the fastenings on her dress, then became frustrated with all the hooks and buttons. Isla reached backwards to help him, and as she turned to face him again, the dress dropped from her shoulders and slid down her legs to land at her feet.
Isla was left standing facing Finley in her filmy chemise, which quite clearly showed her erect nipples through the transparent material. He cupped her breasts and caressed them with his thumbs, his lips parting; they were soft and yielding under his palms. She moaned as the pressure of his touch aroused the now familiar feelings of desire inside her, and she was free to indulge that desire now, just as he was, and as Finley raised his eyes to hers, Isla saw them darken with need.
She pulled the shirt out of the waistband of his kilt and he pulled it off over his head, then she undid his belt and it fell to the floor. Isla dared not look down, still afraid of what she would see.
Finley could not wait a moment longer. He undid the laces at the front of her chemise, then bent down and lifted it by the hem, before drawing it over her head and throwing it over to the side of the room, then he picked her up and laid her on the bed.
Then he feasted his eyes on her beauty, and he let out a breath of wonder and desire as he gazed at her, for nothing in his imagination had prepared him for this. “I never dreamed ye would be sae lovely,” he whispered as he gazed at her. Every inch of her, from the creamy globes of her breasts to her flat stomach, the tiny waist which curved out to her hips, and the shapely columns of her legs, was perfect.
As Isla looked at Finley, she was astounded at the contrast in their bodies. He was much taller, of course, and his shoulders and arms were broader and more muscular; all that she knew, but she had not been prepared for everything else. He was her polar opposite.
He was hairy where she was not, angular where she was curved, and he seemed to have many more muscles than she did. His chest was flat and there were two ridges of little muscles that ran down the front of him almost to his navel. She had no such thing on her body. His thighs and calves looked enormously powerful and when she finally plucked up the courage to look at the shaft of his manhood, it was already erect, and she felt a stab of terror at its size.
Isla’s feelings must have shown in her face, because Finley immediately lay down beside her and pulled her close. Now they were skin to skin; she had never been so close to him or any other man before, and suddenly she was not afraid.
Finley had never before felt such joy. The love of his life was lying by his side, and in a moment she would give herself to him. “Dinnae be scared, Isla,” he whispered.
“I’m not, Finley,” she replied. “I am ready. Make me yours.”
For a few seconds more they smiled into each others’ eyes, then Finley captured Isla’s mouth in a searing kiss, which flooded her with warm desire, and when he moved his kisses down to her breasts she squealed with delight. Nothing had ever felt so delightful as the sensation of his lips and tongue on her sensitive nipples, and she writhed with pleasure under the sensual onslaught.
It was glorious, and just when she thought she had experienced the most pleasure her body could take, Finley captured her lips again, but this time she felt something even better as his fingers moved to the secret place between her legs. Finley swept through the soft wet folds of her sex, then he gently pushed inside her with his first two fingers, making her gasp with surprise and sheer delight.
“What are you doing?” Isla whimpered, almost overcome with sensation, unable to say still as his fingers explored her. Maura had told her what she knew about lovemaking, but she was a virgin herself and could not have known about all the things a man could do to give a woman pleasure.
“Dae ye no’ like it, Isla?” he asked gently. “I will stop if ye want.” All the time he had been pushing in and out of her, stretching her for his entrance, but he stilled the motion as he studied her face, worried that he might be hurting her.
Isla shook her head frantically. “No—no please! Don’t stop!” Then a new sensation assailed her as Finley touched the little nub of flesh that was the most sensitive spot on her body with his thumb. When he leaned down to lick, kiss and gently bite it, Isla screamed. She was shocked but delighted by his actions, since she had never dreamt of such a strange, and to her mind almost perverted thing before. She had never felt anything like the intense stab of rapture that shot through her, and she clutched his hair frantically to stop him from moving away from her. It was heaven.