He took a deep breath before he finally spoke. “Ye are exquisite, wife.”
Brighit held her breath while he continued his perusal, his eyes finally stopping on her face. She thought he might say something, but his gaze was dark when he pulled her against him, his hand sliding down her belly to slip between her thighs, touching her where she’d never been touched. Without thinking, she tightened her legs.
“Let me touch ye.” He spoke against her cheek, a soft, persuasive tone, and her body obeyed.
His sigh sounded needy. Her eyes closed at the pleasant sensation of him touching her.
He groaned, his fingers working magic on her fear. All she wanted was more from him and her hips canted even as she tried to still her body’s response to him.
“Mmm.” His breathing was heavy in her ear. “Let us see to this bedding.”
The word sparked an alarm that was quickly forgotten when he pressed into her, taking her mouth at the same time. This was the kiss she remembered. The kiss she’d thought about so often. The kiss that told her that—at least in this—she would be pleased with him as her husband.
Darragh slid his hands up her sides, urging her back toward the bed, lifting her at the step to deposit her into the middle of its great expanse. It was a feather bed, softer than anything she’d ever lain upon, but then he was there again, taking over her senses with his mouth and his hands. When his hips slipped between her legs, she realized he was naked as well. He hovered above her, kissing her. Long, languorous kisses that swept away her nervousness. She was surprised by how much she wanted him. She wanted this. She wanted to be joined to this man.
Cupping her face, he broke the kiss to gaze down at her. His eyes closing slightly before focusing on her again. She knew there would be pain, but his look of longing set that fear from her. He pressed into her with one swift movement. A sharp pain quickly forgotten when she heard his guttural sound of pleasure.
Darragh rocked his hips into her, entering her slowly, sending sweet sensations through her body. A nip at her shoulder, followed by a sigh of pleasure at her ear, elicited her own groan. This was not at all what she had expected. This total abandon to the pleasurable experience, the rightness of having him here. Overwhelmed by emotion, tears stung her eyes.
He gathered her close and settled on top of her, thrusting more firmly and setting off an intense need inside her. She reached for it, lifting her hips to meet each stroke until it exploded inside her. Overwhelmed with wave upon wave of deep fulfillment, she could only groan while he continued filling her, prolonging her pleasure. His own sounds of satisfaction reached her when he stilled, pressing deep inside her. He covered her. His entire body blocked out everything else. The weight of him seemed to get heavier and heavier. She turned away from his chest but couldn’t catch a breath. The soreness of her belly was manageable, but the sudden sense of suffocation came back with a force strong enough to jolt her out of her pleasure.
All she knew was that she had no breath in her lungs. Full-blown panic swept over her and her breath came in short gasps, fanning her fear of suffocation rather than offering relief. With the flat of her palms she shoved at his shoulders with all her strength. He was killing her.
Darragh’s confused expression was a blur, his features unrecognizable to her in that moment. She continued to buck against the intruder, frustrating whimpers filling the air.
“No. No!” Her quiet pleas showed her weakness and she despised them. She reached for her dagger, only then realizing she was naked and powerless. She had no weapon.
“What is wr—” Darragh said. He was rising off her and she didn’t hesitate to knee him in the groin. When he dropped on her again and grabbed himself, moaning in pain, she pushed as hard as she could and got out from under him. Feeling like a trapped animal, Brighit scrambled off the bed and backed away toward the far wall. The air safely filling her lungs slowly brought her out of her panic enough for to see her husband writhing in pain on the bed where her virgin’s blood was visible beneath him.
The reality of what she’d done hit her as hard as any fist. Darragh could kill her for such behavior. It was his right as her husband. She dove for her gown, holding it against her like a shield, and made for the door, desperate to escape his wrath. Just as her hand touched the cold metal of the latch, Darragh bellowed behind her.
“Ye will not leave this room!”
Chapter 8
By his third glass of mead, the throbbing in Darragh’s groin was finally subsiding. Wiping at the powdered hand mark he’d left on the gold vessel, he looked at his bride, huddled in the heavy wool blanket he’d procured for her when she had begun shivering. He’d refused to allow her to don her gown again. She had explanations to give before he would allow her to dress…ifhe allowed her to dress. He’d been too outraged to say anything to her as of yet.
Brighit had actually kneed him. He couldn’t say which had surprised him more, the satisfaction of breaking through her maidenhead and then her moan of pleasure or the sudden she-cat she’d turned into trying to get away from him. Was the pain that bad? But it couldn’t have been the pain. He would have known it. Despite his own pleasure, he had remained acutely aware of everything about her. Her quiet gasp when he broke through her barrier. The soft exhale as he moved in a steady rhythm. And the slightest moan when he’d begun to move more urgently. He’d never been so enraptured with a woman. His wife. And then she’d attacked him.
“So why exactly did ye feel it necessary to try and unman me? D'ye not wish to have any children?”
“Oh!” Brighit’s wavering cry finally roused his pity for her. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was mortified at her behavior.
“So ye would like children?”
Brighit’s eyes rounded and flooded anew. “Aye.”
The banging on the door startled them both.
“Hey! They’re coming.” a laughing voice whispered.
“Best get the sheets ready,” another voice snickered.
Loud laughter followed.
Damn them. Did they need to get drunk when he had assigned them such an important job? He did not want to have his wife embarrassed at their joining but then again he hadn’t expected her to assault him.
He didn’t miss her gasp at those first words or her covering her mouth or that expression of horror on her beautiful face. A second look revealed where the white powder had been removed. The skin appeared to be discolored beneath, no doubt an illusion from the flickering candlelight.
