He paused in his rush when he saw that she was watching him. Suddenly, he seemed apologetic and he leaned over her, bracing his thick arms on either side of her body.
“I know…. we should not do this, sweetheart, but I cannot help what I feel. I must have you.”
“And if I were to refuse you at this moment?”
He paused. “I would put my clothes back on, I suppose.”
She brushed a stray lock from her face. “Then put them back on. I am not your wife yet and you may not do as you please with me.”
He stared at her and sat back on his heels. His gaze lingered on her a moment longer before he glanced around in search of his tunic. Just as he located the garment and reached a hand to it, she stopped him.
“You would really put your clothes back on?” she asked with a hint of regret.
“I will not force you.”
The setting sun cast a warm glow into the darkened stable, bathing her beautiful body in an orange light. Her eyes roved over his superb form, coming to rest on his freed manroot. It was absolutely enormous and she sat up, studying him without embarrassment. Being a proper maiden she should have been mortified, but she found that she was not the least bit ashamed. After all, Alec’s entire body was glorious and his manhood was simply another portion, like an arm or a leg, albeit a very personal portion.
“You say it will fit?” she asked timidly.
He looked down at himself, tunic in hand as he prepared to dress. “Undoubtedly.”
She turned her gaze to him. “I have never seen…. that is, I have seen horses and bulls rutting, but I have never seen a rutting man. Are they all as large as you?”
He smiled. “Nay, they are not.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Are you sure it will fit?”
He chuckled softly. “Sweetheart, the children you bear will have heads and bodies considerably larger than my manhood. You, dear lady, are built by virtue of nature to accommodate a man between your legs. I promise you that I will fit.”
She nodded, pondering his statement and discovering that it did indeed make sense.
“Are you afraid?” he asked gently, sensing her reluctance.
“A bit,” she replied honestly, lifting her gaze to meet his and he could see a faint mottling of flush in her cheeks. “This will hurt, will it not?”
He tossed the tunic aside. Gracefully, he lowered himself and pushed her onto her back in the same motion. His great body half-covered her as he pushed bits of stray red hair behind her ear.
“I am told that it is most always uncomfortable the first time for a maiden,” he said softly. “I suppose we will find out.”
She gazed back at him, lifting a timid finger to trace the line of his smooth lips. “Have you never bedded a maiden before?”
“Never. I am quite new at this.”
“But you have learned from other women to be gentle, have you not?”
He could read her rising apprehension and sought to comfort her. Yet he, too, was apprehensive. When he said he was new to this, he meant in nearly every aspect.
“Have I ever been rough with you, Peyton? Have I ever demonstrated anything other than complete gentleness whenever we have touched?”
“Oh, Alec, you have been entirely tender always. Your touch is as gentle as a lamb’s.”
“Then I shall be gentle in this endeavor as well,” he dipped down and kissed the bridge of her nose. “Shall we continue?”
“That depends. Is your father intent on marrying me to Colin Warrington?”
Alec’s soft face tensed. “Mayhap. But the marriage will never take place, for I intend to wed you myself this very night.”
“But…. I do not understand. How can you marry me if your father would dissolve the betrothal?”
