Page 44 of The Highlander's Virgin Nun
As everyone gathered into pairs, Caelan held Rosaline’s right hand and lifted her elbow high. He rested his left hand on her lower back, tucking her hair at the final moment so she had a full range of motion. The beat began, and he spun her around the hall, the whole procession moving clockwise to the beat of the drum and the blare of the pipes.
She laughed, throwing her head back and pushing her torso closer to his for balance. He pulled her close and used his strength to twirl her around so that her hair fluttered behind her.
They whirled around the hall in time to the music until they were both dizzy and tired. As the song ended, they slowed to a stop, and Rosaline rested her head against Caelan’s chest, still giggling.
“That was fun,” she breathed. “Who kenned that whirlin’ around a room could be so delightful?”
“Dancin’ has existed forever for a reason, wife.”
The music changed to a slower folk tune, and many couples remained on the dance floor, swaying and leaning on each other after the energetic jig. Caelan began to rock them from side to side, his hand clasping Rosaline’s and resting on his chest, letting them slow their heartbeats together.
“This has been an exhaustin’ day,” Rosaline said, “but a good one.”
Caelan smiled, glad that she had at least enjoyed herself. The wedding had hardly been a choice for her, stuck as she was when he found her in the woods and made her a deal.
He leaned down to her ear. “I hope ye’ve got a little energy left,” he whispered, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Although ye willnae be the one doin’ the work.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
“Welcome,” Caelan declared, opening the door to his bedroom and extending his arm to lead her inside.
Our bedroom.
It was well-appointed, just like her bedroom. A similar bed and dresser, two desks—one identical to hers, she noticed—and two chairs by the window. A bookcase had been brought into the room, empty for now, and she realized it was for her to fill with books from the library. A lovely touch.
“We can have all of yer things brought in in the mornin’. We have done enough for today, and it is only down the hall if ye need anythin’ anyway.”
“Aye, that’s all right,” Rosaline agreed.
Caelan stepped towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He brushed her hair over her shoulder and pressed his lips to her neck, before moving them to her ear.
“I dinnae intend for ye to need anythin’ to change into anyway. Once this beautiful dress is off, ye willnae be needin’ anything else,” he whispered.
Rosaline giggled softly and tilted her head to the side, allowing him more access. “Ye be careful with me beautiful gown now,” she warned with a smile.
“Oh, I will. In fact, let’s just get it out of the way right now.”
Caelan moved his hands to the back of her dress and began to undo the buttons that ran up her spine. He traced the seam up to her shoulders, and then slowly pulled it down her arms, over her waist, hips, and legs, until it dropped to the floor. He offered her his hand, and she took it and stepped out of the gown. Then, he took a step back to admire her beautiful naked body.
She was still very thin from the lack of nourishment at the Abbey, but she had filled out a little after her week of plentiful food at Castle Sinclair.
Rosaline could see her reflection in the tall mirror behind them. Could see the dip of her waist and the curve of her hips.
She watched as Caelan’s eyes drifted slowly and reverently over her. He lingered on her breasts, small but pert, crested by her nipples, dark in color and erect.
“Yer body is magnificent,” he croaked.
“Thank ye,” she replied bashfully.
Caelan could resist no longer—he slid his hands over her round buttocks, up her defined lower back, around her waist, and finally over her breasts. As he kissed her gently, his fingers toyed with her nipples, massaging them.
Rosaline pushed out her chest instinctively, pressing her breasts into his hands. His massaging grew more intense, and she felt the pleasure begin to coil low in her belly.
His hands slid below her buttocks, and he lifted her feet off the floor. Rosaline wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to the bed, and he laid her down gently on the thick bed linens. From there, he stood in front of her and began to undress.
Caelan undid the buttons of his waistcoat and removed it along with his sporran, boots, and socks. He pulled his white linen shirt over his head, tossing his hair back with the movement, and his strong, chiseled stomach shone in the moonlight filtering through the window. In one slow but entirely smooth motion, he tucked his thumbs under the waistband of his kilt and pushed it down his legs until it fell to the floor.
There he stood, in all his glory.
