Her blue-green eyes flew open. “I am pleasing to your eye?”
“You are more than pleasing to my eye, ladyfaire,” he said softly, kissing her.
Cicely began to undress him. In his home the laird wore a long-sleeved shirt and breeks, beneath which were a chemise and drawers. They were simple country garments. On his feet he had a pair of house slippers, but no hose. Cicely drew each piece of his clothing off slowly, carefully. But as curious as she was, she was still too shy to look too closely at him.
Understanding, he waited until she had him stripped and then, taking her hand, said, “Let us get into bed.” Their nakedness would not seem so intimidating within the bed and beneath the covers, he knew. But once there he drew back the coverlet to admire her body. Cicely found herself inspecting his as closely, rising up on one elbow.
Ian was very tall, and his frame matched his height, which wasfour inches over six feet. He was lean without being thin, and well muscled. His shoulders were broad, as was his hairy chest, which moved into a narrow waist and hips. His legs and arms were long and also furred. Then, for the first time she looked upon his manhood lying supine within a nest of thick, dark fur. Curious, she reached out and touched it gingerly.
“Why isn’t it hard?” she asked him. “It felt hard before.”
“It does not remain hard all the time. Only when it is eager for coupling does it gain its strength,” he explained.
“Your feet are enormous,” she noted, and they were. Long and slender, with big toes to match their size. “But all in all I find you most pleasing,” she told him.
He chuckled at her remark. “I find you most pleasing as well,” Ian replied.
Cicely lay back. “Are you going to kiss me?” she asked him.
He was relieved by her query. She hadn’t really been afraid before the hearth in the hall, and if she had been he sensed her uneasiness was now gone. Leaning over, he began kissing her while his hand began roaming across her slender but lush frame. Their kisses grew deeper and more impassioned. He felt his cock stir. “I want you to touch me, ladyfaire,” Ian said to her. “Are you not curious to do so?”
“I didn’t know if I should,” Cicely answered him. Then, leaning up again on her elbow, she began caressing him shyly, trailing her fingers across his chest. A fingertip touched one of his nipples, and then rubbed it. “Is it sensitive like mine are?” she asked.
“Aye,” he answered.
Her hand investigated him further, fingers sliding through the curly hair on his chest, down to his navel, and finally to his groin, where she hesitated.
“Touch it,” he said softly. He was practically trembling in his anticipation of the feel of her small hand.
Cicely ran a curious finger down the length of his manhood then looked to him.
“Take it in your hand.” His voice was almost pleading, which she thought odd.
She carefully wrapped her hand about him. The manhood was soft, yet she felt it pulsing with life as her fingers tightened about it. She squeezed him gently and he groaned. Still holding him, she looked at the laird questioningly. “Am I hurting you?”
“Nay, far from it,” he said with a small smile.
Suddenly a startled look came into her eyes. “It is hardening! And it is growing within my hand!” Her eyes widened as, unable to tear her gaze away, she watched with amazement as his manhood grew hard and long while thickening until her fingers could no longer contain him, and she released her hold upon him, looking questioningly at him.
He took the hand that had been holding him and kissed the palm. Then, pressing her back into the pillows upon the bed, he began to kiss her lush mouth, and then his lips trailed down her body, her throat, her shoulders, her chest. He took one of her nipples into his mouth and began to suck upon it.
Cicely moaned with surprise, and her hand began to caress the nape of his neck, moving up to slide into his thick, dark brown hair, digging into his scalp with strong fingers. “That feels good, my lord,” she told him as he suckled upon her. “Don’t stop!”
Slowly, slowly he stoked her passions. He moved to her other breast and his other hand slid between her thighs. She was very wet, and, pushing past her nether lips, he thrust two fingers into her. “Ohh!” It felt so good, but she wanted to experience his long, thick cock inside her once more. She didn’t care if there was pain. “I want you inside me,” she whispered hotly into his ear. “I need it!”
His desire for her was too great to deny her. In the nights to come he would take more time, educate her further in the pleasures of bedsport, but now he needed her too. He covered her with his body and drove deep.
Cicely cried out as he filled her, surprised that there was no painthis time and at how eagerly her body received him. She wrapped herself about him, encouraging him, so that they quickly experienced a crescendo of such utter satisfaction that it left them both replete with pure delight. She nestled against him, and shortly fell asleep.
Ian Douglas lay awake. He could hardly believe it. She washis! His ladyfaire was his, and no other man would have her. Finally exhausted by his physical efforts and his happiness, he fell asleep briefly. But, unable to sleep for long, he arose from her bed, drew the coverlet over her, put on his clothing again, and went from her chamber. Hurrying downstairs, he snatched up a cloak and let himself out of a small side door in the rear of the house.
While the night was overcast, the winter moon was full; it backlit the clouds and reflected on the snow, making it possible for him to find his way down into his village. The laird made his way to the priest’s house and knocked upon the door. His uncle finally came to open it, looking irritable.
“What is it that you want, nephew?” Father Ambrose demanded to know.
“I want you up at the house first thing in the morning,” the laird said. “You’ll marry Cicely and me. I want no further delays.”
“Cicely now, is it?” The priest chuckled. “She’s willing?”
