“I—God, I need ye.”
It was all the encouragement Brodie needed before he nudged his hips against Laurel’s, moving slowly as she adjusted to each sensation. When her knees squeezed his thighs, and she raised her hips to meet his shallow thrusts, he dared to move a little faster and a little harder. He watched in awe as he finally unleashed the passion he’d been certain was laying dormant within Laurel. Her eyes sparkled as she moved her body, a natural seductress, a siren drawing him to the edge of the world. Their kisses grew wild as their hands explored all that they could reach.
“More,” Laurel panted, squeezing Brodie’s backside, trying to press him harder against her mons.
“Hurt ye—” Brodie panted. Laurel shook her head, strands of her fiery hair brushing over his hands.
“More.”
Brodie clung to his conscience that warned him to be gentle with his maiden bride, but savage need to possess and be possessed howled within his breast. He increased the force with which he surged into her core, keeping the pace deliciously and frustratingly slow. Laurel clawed at his back, urging him to move faster, but he refused to spend yet. Their eyes locked as Laurel moaned, tugging him down to kiss her once more. Without the same slowly increasing tightness as the first time, Laurel’s body exploded with wave after pounding wave of pleasure. Brodie watched as her neck strained, her head titled back, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Unable to wait, he dipped his head to her breast, suckling and nipping as his hips finally led the charge until his release flowed through him in pulsating jets.
Brodie rolled over, pulling Laurel with him. Her hair cascaded over her back and his chest as her forehead rested against his neck, and she dropped light kisses where his throat met his shoulder. Brodie snagged the edge of the plaid and drew it over them. His brawny arms held Laurel in place, but they both knew neither intended to move beyond sucking in quivering breaths as their hearts pounded in unison. When he could breathe again with some ease, Brodie stroked Laurel’s hair while his other hand cupped one globe of her buttocks. When his body withdrew from hers, Laurel whimpered.
“Wheest, thistle. I dinna like it either.” Brodie tried to peer at her, but the position was too awkward. “Are ye all right, Laurie?”
“Aye, vera,” Laurel replied as she shifted and nuzzled closer, her body draped over his. “I ken now why they dinna tell virgins what that’s like. There wouldnae be any left.”
Brodie chuckled, shifting so he could kiss Laurel. He wished he could tell her it wasn’t always like that, or it had never been so passionate for him before, but he didn’t dare bring up his past liaisons as he laid in his bride’s arms. But he should have known what she was thinking.
“I dinna have aught to compare, but was that good? I mean, did I do it right?” Laurel asked.
“Dear merciful God and all the angels, if ye did it any better, ye’d stop ma heart,” Brodie grinned. “Aye, ye did it right, Laurie. Vera, vera right.”
“So ye’ll want to do that again with me?”
Brodie rolled them back onto their sides, so he could see Laurel’s face. He heard what she said and what she left unsaid. He brushed hair over her shoulder before sliding his hand down her arm until he could bring her hand to his heart. He covered her much smaller one with his.
“I want to be inside ye every minute of every day if I could. I have never felt so connected with someone, nae physically or any other way. Laurel, I dinna ken what—or rather how ye think a husband will act, but I will only share ma body with ye.”
Laurel nodded, but Brodie knew there was a niggling question in Laurel’s mind, his expression asking her to speak. She stared at him a long time, and Brodie wasn’t sure if she was mustering her courage or deciding if she dare ask. Perhaps both.
“Do ye have a leman?”
“Nay, Laurie. I never have. Ye ken I wasna a virgin, but I dinna have a mistress, or even someone I visited regularly.”
“But ye werenae going to bed Eliza for at least two years. There must be someone—” Brodie placed his finger of her lips and shook his head.
“I’m as healthy as the next mon, but I’m also auld enough to ken that there is more to life than bedding a woman—or bedding a woman that ye dinna care aboot, dinna want to pledge yer life to. I would have lasted the two years or until Eliza was ready. I may nae have enjoyed it,” Brodie grinned ruefully. “But the vows a couple recites before God and a priest say to forsake all others. If I canna honor that, how can ma people believe me honorable enough to lead?”
“Brodie, we both ken clan members dinna care if the laird has a leman. Too many of them do. People dinna consider it dishonorable despite what the mon pledges,” Laurel pointed out.
“I consider it dishonorable,” Brodie stressed. “I will nae betray ye, and I will nae forsake ye. If I didna think—nay, ken—I could keep maself only unto ye, I wouldnae have handfasted with ye. If I’m honest with us both, I wouldnae have kissed ye the first time. Part of me kenned the risk we took of being found, and I disregarded it. I wasna displeased or regretful when we were discovered. It was a relief.”
“A relief?” Laurel’s brow furrowed.
“Aye. It meant I didna have to hide from ye or anyone else that I want ye as ma wife.”
“But ye ken that everyone says ye kissed me to make me quiet, and that now ye regret it.”
“Would I have spent each day with ye, mournful when we each had other duties to attend to? Would I have agreed to exchange our own vows today, if I regretted having ma future linked to yers? Would I have needed ye with the consuming passion that I just did, that I still do? Laurel, nay one forced me to pursue ye, and nay one forced me to marry ye.”
“But the wager,” Laurel whispered. While they’d settled the disagreement they’d had the morning Laurel overhead the ladies talking in the Great Hall, Brodie hadn’t explained how the rumors came about.
“When I arrived in Stirling,” Brodie began. His chest tightening as he prepared to tell Laurel why he’d initially sought her out. He prayed she didn’t gather her clothes and run from the chamber by the time he was through. “I didna come straight here. I wanted a hot meal and a few drams of whisky before finding ma bed.” Brodie nudged his chin in the bed’s direction.
Laurel listened and watched, noticing that Brodie had grown uncomfortable. She fought back tears that threatened merely from her anxiousness.
“I found yer brother and Donnan at the Crosspool Tavern. I’d already had more than a little whisky as I rode. When Oliphant and MacDougall began talking aboot ye, I was curious. I was nae even close to sober at that point and jested that I liked a challenge. When Oliphant suggested a wager, Monty refused. I confess I considered it for a moment,” Brodie looked at Laurel shamefully. She nodded and offered him a tight smile. “I said I liked a challenge, and I was curious aboot ye. I hadnae even met ye, but ye intrigued me. It was happenstance that I stumbled upon ye in town the next day. If ye hadn’t rattled off all those curses in Gaelic, I wouldnae have kenned it was ye.”
