“We have until the middle of the evening meal before anyone comments that I’m nae there. We have until after the meal ends before Óg organizes men to ride out.” Catherine glanced back at the gate as though she might peer all the way to Stirling and see what her cousin was doing.
“Do you think he will know to come to Dunblane?” Michael asked, wary to have trouble at his doorstep, even if he agreed to perform the clandestine marriage.
“Nay. I think we have until morning before there’s a chance that he could stumble upon us. He doesnae ken aboot the banns being read. Of that I’m certain because I’m standing here in one piece.” Rab smiled. “He’ll likely assume we handfasted or married by consent, so he’ll probably head west rather than north.”
“Father Michael,” Catherine spoke up again. “Might we stay at the hostellary?”
“Aye. It’s safer and more discreet for you than the inn. We need to get this underway, or we will delay Vespers.” Michael accepted the length of MacLaren plaid Rab unpinned from his shoulder. He wrapped it around the couple’s wrists as he recited the ancient pledges.
Rab and Catherine stood with their hands bound, their attention solely on one another. The world slipped away, a haze far from them. They spoke their promises made from the depths of their hearts. After years of waiting, the vow exchange seemed too short in comparison. They lingered, gazing at one another before either realized Michael finished speaking. Catherine glanced down at the sapphire ring Rab slipped on her finger during the service. He wrapped his arm around Catherine’s waist and lifted her off her feet. Her free arm wound around his neck before their lips fused in a kiss that was poignant. It shared the love that blossomed between them as adolescents and spoke to the passion they shared as adults. It was a melding of two souls who’d spoken the words to bind them, but the kiss sealed their commitment.
A few more people had gathered by the end of their wedding, curious about the unexpected event. They followed the couple and Michael into the cathedral for the evening prayer service. Catherine and Rab sat in the back where few people could stare. The MacLaren guards took seats on each side of the couple and in the pew across from them, prepared to defend their tánaiste and his wife.
Catherine nearly stopped Rab from unwrapping the plaid from their hands, and she might have had it not been part of what he wore. After they dined with the other monks in the refectory, they made their way to the place for guests, surprised when an aged monk showed them to a room with a bed wide enough for them both. They’d expected a cot, and Rab had been prepared to sleep on the floor—after he made love to his bride. When the door closed behind them, Catherine and Rab collided. The kiss after their wedding had been sweet with a hint of passion, but this kiss left neither in doubt about the desire that crackled between them. They tugged at one another’s clothes, leaving a trail from the door to the bed.
Rab feasted upon the sight of Catherine’s naked body, and she did nothing to hide her appreciation for Rab’s muscular form. They ran their hands over every inch they could reach while standing before slipping onto the bed. Their lips roamed over each other’s neck, cheeks, shoulders, and chest before returning to one another’s mouths. Rab pressed Catherine’s berry-tipped breasts together as he alternated suckling each one, eliciting moans Catherine barely stifled. Her nails scored along his back when his fingers eased into her passage. He fought his eagerness to surge into her when he discovered her arousal, intent upon increasing it to a fevered pitch before joining their bodies.
Catherine nipped at Rab’s ear, having discovered that it made him shiver in the most delightful way. Her hands grasped his chiseled backside, enjoying each time the muscles flexed beneath her hands. Now that she could see her husband as well as touch him, she wondered how they would ever leave any bed in which they found themselves.
“Kitty, I didna ken I could be this happy. I kenned I wanted naught more than to marry ye, and I kenned it would make me happy. But I never imagined how full ma heart would feel. I want to cherish ye every day for the rest of our lives. I dinna ever want a life without ye ever again.”
“I feel the same, Rab. God, how it hurt every damn day believing that I would never see ye again. Those first few moments in the stables that day ye arrived, they were agony since I didna ken if ye still felt for me what I’ll never stop feeling for ye. But then ye embraced me. I kenned I was home. Wherever we wind up, I dinna care, truth be told. I just want to be with ye.”
Their feelings shared with words, demonstrated with action. Rab aligned the tip of his cock with Catherine’s entrance, allowing her to get used to the sensation while her dew coated him. He rocked slightly, praying he didn’t cause her too much pain. He slipped his arms beneath her shoulders and wrapped his hands over the top.
“I’m ready, Rab. I want us to be married in every way. I ken it may hurt, but I trust ye. Always and in everything.” Catherine drew his head down for a kiss as Rab thrust forward. He felt the barrier, but it seemed to give way with little effort. He’d never been with a virgin, so he didn’t know what to make of it. He froze, waiting for Catherine to shift in pain or try to move away, but she deepened their kiss.
“I thought it would hurt,” Catherine admitted.
“I thought it might be harder for me to enter ye. It’s always sounded like it when I’ve heard other—” Rab snapped his mouth shut.
“I’d guess that like every mon’s cock is different, so is every woman’s quim. I dinna ken. Mayhap spending so much time riding astride did something to me.” Catherine grasped Rab’s upper arms as she pulled her chin back. “Ye do believe I was a virgin, dinna ye?”
“Of course, I did. I felt it.” Rab pulled back and peered down between them. Catherine followed his gaze, spying the evidence of her maidenhead on his cock. When they locked gazes once more, Rab offered a tender smile. “Kitty, I didna care that I wasna the first mon ye touched, and I’d have married ye even if ye werenae a virgin. I love ye, nae yer maidenhead. I want ma life with ye, nae with something that doesnae last.”
“I dinna ken any other mon who would say that,” Catherine mused.
“Then ye have never met a mon who loves his woman as much as I love ye.” Rab rubbed his nose against the tip of Catherine’s. They settled into another tender kiss, but as they moved together, their need consumed them. Rab lifted Catherine’s left thigh and hooked it over his waist, circling his hips between thrusts. She tilted her hips to receive each surge as their pelvises ground together. Catherine strained for the hint of release to explode into a full climax, yet her mind suggested she slow down and enjoy the moment. Her mind and body at war with one another; she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Her thoughts went blank as the pleasure only Rab had brought her swallowed her whole.
“Rab,” Catherine moaned as her belly clenched with her climax.
“I ken,mo ghaol.” Rab continued to withdraw and thrust as he watched Catherine’s blissful expression, but it was only a heartbeat later that she was moving with him again.
“I love ye, Rab. I love all of ye,” Catherine declared as he pushed her over the precipice again, and her core tightened around his cock.
“By God, Catherine, I love ye more than aught.”
Catherine smiled, surprised that Rab called her by her full name. It was so rare and had been for most of the time they’d known one another that she understood how significant and raw his declaration was. Rab gathered her in his arms and rolled over. She sprawled across him, her hair draped over his shoulder and pillow. He wrapped a finger in a lock.
“Every night since I was nine-and-ten, I’ve pictured ye lying in bed with me just as ye are. The feel of ye pressed against me, yer hair sliding along ma arm. Ye have beautiful hair, but it was picturing it down that made for plenty of vivid dreams. As a married woman, I ken ye’ll wear yer hair up and under a kertch. It was kenning I’d be one of the few people to see it down that was special to me.”
Catherine leaned upon her forearm and smiled as her fingers brushed the stubble on Rab’s chin. “And I always imagined shaving ye every morning after we rose from our bed.” She pulled her lips in to hide her grin but failed miserably. “It might have involved us sitting on a chair together—to be sure I could reach.”
Rab grasped her backside in both hands. His cock, having rested for a few minutes, was eager to make love to Catherine again. “And how might that have made it easier for ye?”
“Mayhap it’s easier if I show ye.” Catherine shifted, straddling Rab’s hips and guiding his once again steely length into her core after he sat up. She leaned forward, her breast hovering near his mouth as her hand ran over his cheek and down his neck before moving back to cup his skull in her palm. Rab feasted on her breasts, his cock swelling as he enjoyed suckling breasts he’d always suspected were perfection. Catherine wasn’t a generously endowed woman on top, but Rab preferred it. He enjoyed being able to wrap his lips and hands around her pert breasts, feeling like he missed nothing, enjoying it all.
As their bodies tautened in mutual pleasure, they gazed at one another in awe. Neither had known making love could have such a cataclysmic effect on them. That they could experience such all-encompassing emotions. As Catherine shifted to settle against Rab’s side, both still panting, he pulled the covers over them.
