The supper was simple but hearty—stew with fresh bread, accompanied by a rich red wine that softened the day’s edges. Alexander watched her as she ate, her movements unhurried, her attention occasionally drifting to him as though checking on his well-being.
Afterward, she retrieved a book from the shelf and sat beside him again, her voice melodic as she read aloud. The story, though engaging, paled in comparison to the sight of her, to the way her doe eyes skimmed over the pages, the way her dark hair spilled over her shoulders.
Alexander found himself captivated.
“Helena,” he interrupted gently.
She looked up, her expression questioning. “Aye?”
Before she could reply, his hands were pushing the shoulders of her dress down. His lips had found a sensitive spot there, and his tongue lapped at it, sending shivers up her spine.
“A-Alexander…”
“Ye taste so good,” he purred, smirking up at her as he captured her lips. “Better than the meal ye brought me.”
“Yer appetite is insatiable,” she sighed, putting her hands on either side of his face so he was looking at her.
She didn’t resist his kiss. They stayed locked like that, their tongues and lips intertwined, tasting each other until she was breathless and had to pull away.
He stared at her, his bright eyes intense. “We should consummate our marriage.”
Her cheeks flushed, the color blooming across her skin. She glanced away, her fingers toying with the edge of the book.
“I… I want ye,” she admitted softly. “But after seein’ me faither today, hearin’ him speak of grandchildren… it’s a lot to process.”
“I want ye,” Alexander demanded, his hand going to her hair, forcing her to look at him. “I cannae stand it, Helena. I want ye so bad I can taste ye on me tongue.”
“I… I…”
He kissed her again, his lips forcing hers apart, pulling her close as she discarded the book on the bed. Her arms wrapped around him, and she deepened the kiss. She could feel his hands roaming over her hips, brushing over her erect nipples, and it lit a fire inside her, a now familiar sensation pooling in her loins.
“Ah,” she whispered as he teased her nipples over her nightgown, admiring how hard he had made the peaks with just his light touches.
Helena’s mind was fuzzy—it was pure joy. She felt him pinch her nipples, and heat splintered across her flesh.
“Good, good… Now, open yer legs,” Alexander ordered, leaning over her.
As he moved lower, he pushed the hem of her linen nightgown up over her knees, smirking as she met his eyes. “I said, open yer legs.”
“I…”
“Do as ye’re told.”
Helena swallowed, nodding as she looked away. She trembled when his hands slid up her calves and over her knees, pushing them apart. Her dress pooled around her hips. She was fully exposed to him, and the embarrassment made her tense.
“Relax,” he murmured, his fingertips caressing her thighs. “This will feel good, I promise.”
Helena just nodded, still refusing to look at him. She was staring intently at the wall, specifically at the tapestry hanging there. He didn’t seem to like this, growling and squeezing her thighs.
“Look at me, Helena.”
It took all of her willpower to overcome her embarrassment to stare at him. When she did, he smiled, his lips kissing her knee and then her thighs. His smile wasn’t malicious or frightening, but soft and happy. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, her hand moving down to brush a stray strand of dark hair from his face.
“Good girl. Now, lie back and enjoy…”
Before she could protest, his face was between her thighs, his breath hot and wet as his palms rested on her inner thighs. She cried out when she felt his tongue prodding her, swiping up and down, making her shiver. The sensation was unbelievable.
Her back arched, and her hands curled into the linens as he applied pressure relentlessly.
