Page 27 of The Lady in Pearls
“Lachlan…” she began, noticing his hands shaking a little. Was he nervous? The thought was laughable. The worldly Scotsman, nervous on his wedding night?
“I…” He chuckled and set his glass down. “I am a wee bit…” He didn’t finish, but his cheeks darkened to a ruddy shade beneath the candlelight.
“You’re not the virgin, I am,” she blurted out, and then covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a nervous laugh. Lachlan approached and played with the strands of her hair with his fingers, making her shiver with a secret thrill.
“I’ve not been with a lass that I cared about the way I do you.” He brushed her long dark hair away from her neck. She reached up and touched the pearls at the same moment he did. Heat flared between them when their hands met.
“You care about me?” the words that escaped her were barely above a whisper.
His short nod was followed with a smile so faint she almost wondered if she’d imagined it.
Daphne held her breath a long moment before she replied, “I feel the same about you.”
His look of boyish wonder as he cupped her face and gazed into her eyes melted away every concern she’d had about marrying him.
“I doona deserve you, lass. But I swear on my bones that I will strive every day, with every breath, to care for you and make you happy.” There was an almost violent flash of pain in his eyes. She threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him. She slipped off the chair and they tumbled onto the floor, Lachlan holding her in his lap as he leaned against the bed’s frame.
Daphne breathed in his comforting, enticing masculine scent and pressed her lips to his neck. His hands tightened around her waist as he held her very still. She examined his face, the hard jaw with a hint of stubble, his blue eyes now as dark and endless as the surface of a lake.
She trailed her fingertips down his nose to his lips, memorizing every curve, every faint line, even the barest hint of freckles on the bridge of his nose, which she hadn’t noticed before. He was beautiful physically, but there was something else, a nobility in his face that seem to come from within. It had nothing to do with bloodlines or titles, but a nobility of the soul. She realized she trusted him more than she had ever trusted anyone except her mother. Her father’s crimes had cost her much, including her trust in others, but now, for the first time, she felt like she could trust another person. She could trust in Lachlan.
I want to give him everything, all that I am.
“Are you ready to go to bed?” she asked, stroking his lips. He moved one hand up and down her back, the way a man would calm an untamed horse.
“Aye. Are you?” he asked. Worry marred his face until she nodded.
She slid off his lap and they stood, smiling hesitantly, both embarrassed.
“Why don’t I take off my shirt?” He stepped back and reached over his head to pull off the white garment. Once exposed to view, his bare chest made her mouth run dry. He tossed the shirt away and lifted one of her hands to his chest, placing her palm over his heart.
“I am yours, lass, look your fill.Touch.” He stroked the back of her hand. “As you will.”
Daphne explored him, marveling at the muscled plains of his abdomen and the corded steel of his arms, awed that something so beautiful could be hers. Then he unfastened his trousers and removed his shoes. She stepped back with wide eyes when she saw his fully bared body. He was unashamed and waved her closer with a coaxing hand. He stepped back and leaned on the edge of the bed, inviting her near.
“I doona bite,” he chuckled when she drew close enough. She placed one hand on the top of his hard thigh, a secret delight surging through her when his muscles leapt beneath her fingers.
“Now for you.” He reached for the front of her nightgown, unfastened the buttons at her breasts and then lifted the gown over her head.
When she stood naked before him, she stiffened, her nipples pebbling in the cool air. He parted his knees and gently pulled her to stand between his thighs so he could touch her. He cupped one breast, and his rough, calloused palms sent delightful tingles through her. She clenched her thighs as wetness grew between them.
Lachlan plucked one nipple, the gentle tug making her hiss out a soft moan. She arched her back, clutching his shoulders as she offered him her other breast. He bent his head and fastened his mouth to it, kissing, sucking, nibbling until she couldn’t stop from trembling. Everything he did was thrilling, even frightening, but exquisitely wonderful. She reached for his erect shaft, needing to touch him as intimately as he was touching her, but he caught her wrist.
“There will be plenty of time for that, lass, but not yet. A man needs to pleasure his woman thoroughly before he sees to himself.” He slid his hands down to her bottom and lifted her onto his lap. His shaft slid between her wet folds and she whimpered as a hard edge of need rolled through her. She needed him to do something to her, to ease the hunger she barely understood.
“Lachlan, please, I want you to—”
“Shhh…” He kissed her hungrily, their lips melding as he clenched her buttocks and rocked her against him in his lap. She arched, her knees sliding on the bedding on either side of his slender hips. Daphne was desperate to feel him inside her, even though she was afraid he wouldn’t fit, that he was far too big, but her hunger was stronger than her concerns. They broke the kiss and she implored him with begging eyes to give her what she needed, what they both did.
“Aye. You’ll be the death of me, wife.” He fell back on the bed with her before he rolled them over so that she lay beneath him. Her knees gripped his hips, trying to close even though his body lay between them. Blood surged from her fingertips to her toes.
He lowered his mouth to hers, and his kiss burned like morning light through the darkness of her weary soul and she surrendered everything to him. The unexpected pinch she felt as he slid inside her faded beneath the fire of his kiss. He spoke to her between kisses as he withdrew and thrust back inside her. She recognized the words, the Gaelic from the wedding ceremony.
“Two souls made one, two hearts made one. Let none tear asunder what the heavens have brought together.” She closed her eyes as the tension building inside her broke in a sudden crest. The pleasure was as pure as it was explosive. Daphne gasped in sweet agony. She clung to him, her inner walls fluttering around him and she pressed frantic kisses along his cheek, lips and chin as he thrust twice more and collapsed on top of her, his weight heavy but welcome.
Lachlan kissed the shell of her ear, smiling as he lifted his head to gaze down at her. A deep peace settled inside her, as if she stood in a meadow at dawn, with the birds beginning to chatter softly, sunlight beginning to bathe the ground, and a breeze rustling the grass.
There was something about abeginning.It seemed to fill one’s soul with hope, withlove. What she and Lachlan had shared this night was a new dawn, a beginning all their own.
