Chapter 23
“Ye willna hurt me. Please come.” She drew back the covers. “Please lie with me.” Catriona flinched as another round of cannon fire boomed, shattering the stillness of the night. The only peace they got was while the pair of cannons was reloaded or when Campbell’s men went to take a piss or eat. She prayed that Sawny’s and Tom’s plan worked and soon. Her nerves were raw and the sound of cannon fire grated on her like a broken nail dragged across silk.
“Sweet Jesu! I’ll be glad when this is over.” She smoothed a hand across the sheets beside her and patted the bed again. “Please? Ye need your rest and neither the chair nor the floor will give it to ye.” The stubbornness of her husband fair matched her own.
Alexander fidgeted next to the bed, eyeing the spot beside her like a hungry dog watching its master’s plate. At long last, he blew out a low, groaning sigh, stripped down to nothing but his léine, and ever so gingerly slipped into bed next to her. “I dinna wish to shift ye or bump ye in my sleep. What if I cause your wounds to bleed? What if I hurt ye?”
“They didna bleed when I washed away Elena’s noxious poultice. I’m sure they’re well on the way to healin' completely and weren’t nary as bad as everyone thought.” She bit the inside of her cheek against a shooting pain as she scooted up into the crook of his arm and nestled her head into the dip of his shoulder. “I’ve so missed your warmth,” she whispered as she slid her hand up under his shirt and rubbed it across his broad chest.
Alexander tensed beneath her touch and huffed out a groaning sigh that matched the first one. “And that’s another reason I thought it might no’ be prudent to share your bed.”
Catriona slid her hand lower. His fine member had returned to the wonderfully long hardness of their wedding night and strained to meet her.
“Mayhap if I—”
“No!” Alexander grabbed up her hand and held it to the center of his chest. “We’ll no’ be doin’ none of that until ye've healed enough so I dinna have to worry about loving ye straight into your grave.”
“Well, fine.” Whilst she agreed he was probably right, she most assuredly felt passion would do wonders as a pain reliever for her and a tension reliever for him. A terrible thought occurred to her, one she felt she must share. “What if we never share another joining ever again? What if Campbell overtakes the keep? If he’s no' able to do so with the troops he’s already amassed, he’ll overpower us once the king’s regiment arrives.”
A bone-rattling explosion shook the keep. Dust filtered down from the ceiling, rattling across them like rain.
Alexander trembled beneath her hand then shook harder when his deep rumbling laugh broke free. “Well done, lads, well done.”
“Ye're certain 'twas them?” Catriona shook herself and the bedcovers free of the dust and rose to go to the window to see. “I see fire and many rushing about down in the Campbell camp. Aye, they did it!”
“Good lads they are,” Alexander said as he joined her and stood with an arm draped across her shoulders.
“Sneaky lads, ye mean.” Catriona wrapped her arms around Alexander’s waist and snuggled closer whilst still watching the Campbell camp attempt to put out the fires started by the demolition of their cannons. “Thank goodness they’re on our side.”
“Aye,” Alexander agreed then swept her up into his arms, took her back to bed, and settled her in it before climbing in beside her. “Sawny swore he and his friends could disable the cannons and set fire to the gunpowder all in one fair swoop. Quick and crafty as foxes, they are. That boy’s too smart to be a kitchen lad. Him and Tom both. We need to find a better place for him. I’m thinkin’ he needs to foster with Magnus.”
“A fine idea.” She snuggled back to Alexander’s side, content with the success of the evening. But far too quickly, new worries stained that contentment—seeped through it and spread like a deadly poison. “Now we’ll truly feel the Campbell’s rage,” she mused aloud.
“Aye.”
Alexander’s tone worried her even more. In it, she heard the echo of her own fears and the weight of her own dread building within him. She reached up and pulled Alexander’s face down to hers. “I need ye to love me this night, Alexander. I need ye to hold me and make me forget that we might die tomorrow. Please, husband. Ye willna hurt me. I promise.”
Alexander rolled to his side and faced her, cradling her face in his hand as he tickled his thumb across her bottom lip. “I fear—”
“I dinna fear pain,” she said as she watched the play of moonlight across his face. “All I fear is losing ye and having to go through the rest of this life without ye. Please, Alexander. Take away that fear for a little while. Please love me.”
Alexander stared at her for a long moment, eyes dark and unreadable. Finally, he stripped off his léine, then gently rolled her to her back. With the greatest care, he started at the hem of her shift, moved it up her body, and helped her slide it off over her head. Catriona could barely breathe as he rose above her, propping himself on elbows and knees to protect her from the weight of him.
Catriona shuddered as she smoothed her hands across the tops of his shoulders and down his back. Words weren’t needed between them. She saw his love for her in his eyes, felt it in his touch. He bent down and kissed her, tasting of both whisky and the honeyed wine they’d shared with their meal.
She closed her eyes and drew in a deep relaxing breath as he kissed his way across her collarbone, taking care to avoid the stab wound between it and the top of her rib cage. His warm breath fanned across her skin, making her nipples tighten and strain for his touch. He worshipped her breasts with mouth and hands, making it impossible to lie still. She wrapped her right leg up around his hips and stroked her calf across the smooth, muscular hardness of his back and buttocks.
He made to kiss his way lower, but she grabbed hold of the sides of his face and stopped him. “Nay, m’love. I want ye inside me now, aye?”
“Aye,” he said softly as he repositioned his powerful arms on either side of her and nudged himself in between her legs. “I dinna wish to hurt ye,” he repeated as he slowly pushed his way inside her.
Reveling in the way he filled her, Catriona stroked his sides with her hands and her right leg. 'Twas a mighty chore to keep her left leg still to avoid paining her lower side and the area around the other stab wound. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the intoxicating slow in and out slide of Alexander’s ever so gentle thrusts.
“More,” she breathed against his lips as he kissed her. “More, I beg ye.”
Alexander rocked into her faster and deeper with muscles so tensed against hurting her that he trembled. He slid a hand under her, moving it down her back to cup her right buttock and squeeze.
“Yes,” she encouraged as she slid both of her hands down to her husband’s fine firm buttocks and squeezed. “Yes.” The ecstasy grew. She was so close to reclaiming the delicious delirium he’d shown her on their wedding night. No pain could compete with this. “Yes!” she cried out as he pushed her over the abyss to where nothing existed but pure pleasure and mindless abandon.
