Like most Scottish men, Duncan wore nothing underneath his kilt, and Eliza watched with relish as the garment dropped to the floor and Duncan’s large erection sprang out to greet her.
Eliza raised her eyebrows in appreciation. She reached out to take hold of his shaft to pump it up and down, causing Duncan to groan with pleasure.
“That feels so good,” he breathed.
Eliza knelt on the floor and took him in her mouth, then began to suck and swirl her tongue around him. Duncan plunged his hands into the dark mass of her hair and threw his head back, but a moment later he withdrew from her mouth, gasping.
“Stop, Eliza,” he groaned. “I want us to be together as husband and wife—we have worked so hard for this.”
Then he smiled and swept her into his arms, laying her gently on the bed which now belonged to both of them. He stripped off his shirt then dealt with Eliza’s chemise by tearing it down the front, but beyond a startled little gasp, she made no objection. In truth, she was as desperate as he was.
Duncan could hardly believe what was happening as he kissed Eliza’s lips, moved down to her throat, then began to suckle the luscious breasts he had dreamed about since their lastencounter. This woman, this loving, generous, sensual woman, was his at last; his wife, his companion, his lover.
He felt Eliza arch under him, heard her moans of pleasure, and although his every male instinct told him to plunge inside her and satisfy himself, he could not be so selfish. This was their wedding night, a unique time that would never come again, and he wanted to make it so special for Eliza that she would remember it forever.
Eliza felt the sweet pulse between her legs begin to throb, and as Duncan kissed his way down to her core, the pleasure was so intense that she cried out, writhing on the bed as she felt his tongue sweep through her womanly folds. Then he began to tease her, sucking and nibbling her sweetest spot until the sensation almost overwhelmed her.
A moment later, she felt Duncan’s fingers enter her, pushing in and out gently, while pleasuring her little pearl with his thumb.
He looked up at her and asked, “Does that feel good, my love?”
“Oh, god, yes!” Eliza answered breathlessly. “So good. Don’t stop, Duncan.”
However, a moment later, he withdrew his hand and kissed her hungrily. Eliza tasted herself on his lips and licked them. He followed the movement of her tongue and smiled at her.
“You taste so sweet—you taste of all the love in the world, Eliza.”
“Stop talking and make me your wife, Duncan,” Eliza whispered.
Duncan needed no second bidding. He entered Eliza with one thrust and looked into her eyes as he withdrew, then plunged in even harder, sheathing himself to the hilt, loving the feeling of her sweet, tight flesh closing around him.
Eliza wrapped her legs around his hips and began to move in time with him, loving the thrilling feeling of ascending to the peak of pleasure with the shaft of his manhood inside her, driving her towards it.
She cupped her hands over Duncan’s tight, muscled buttocks, buried her face in the silky auburn hair on his chest and breathed in the earthy musk of his skin that was purely, quintessentially male.
She was in a haze of delight that was carrying her higher and still higher until at last she stood on the peak and was swept away by a tide of rapture. Eliza felt Duncan shudder against her as his climax hit him, but he did not withdraw from her as he had before, but spilled his seed inside her.
Then he kissed her and looked into her eyes with so much love that Eliza felt tears threatening.
“Now you are mine,” Duncan said softly.
“And you are mine,” Eliza replied. “My husband, my life.”
Duncan kissed her again and moved to withdraw from her, but Eliza tightened her legs around his hips.
“You are not leaving me yet. Stay where you are until I let you go.” She gave him a fierce frown.
He laughed. “Of course not, dear wife,” he said in a mock-penitent voice.
Eliza sighed and smiled. “I love to see you obey,” she said happily, repeating the words he had said to her before.
