There, Isla and Ewan were surrounded by family and well-wishers from all sides as they laughingly drank the traditional dram of whisky each from the ceremonial quaich, the two-handed cup that signified the bonding of their two clans. When bride and groom had drunk their fill, the quaich was passed around for all to take a drink. Then Ewan paid the piper his traditional dram, upon which the man began to play, and the party began in earnest.
“Ye look amazing, wife,” Ewan whispered in Isla’s ear, holding her tightly in his arms as, fueled by copious amounts of ale and whisky, he whirled her once again up the column of whooping, clapping couples in a traditional country reel.
“How many times have ye said that tae me since we were wed?” she asked in a teasing voice as they danced along.
“I was nae counting, but whatever it is, it’ll nae be enough,” he told her in a low, husky voice, his hands squeezing her waist and making her quiver with excitement. “’Tis a grand party, to be sure, but I have to admit I can hardly wait to get ye alone.” They reached the top of the column, parting at the top to run down to the start and meet again.
“I have to admit I feel the same, husband,” she whispered back, panting with exertion as she planted a kiss on his lips. It was simply impossible to look at him and not want him. “When can we decently take our leave, d’ye think,” she added with a mischievous giggle.
“Well, I think because everyone’s gone to such trouble tae make this a happy day fer us, we owe it to them stay at least another five minutes,” he said with a suggestive quirk of an eyebrow.
“Wisht, husband!” she cried, bursting with happiness at his eagerness but nevertheless thinking of propriety. “Ye ken very well it would be rude nae to stay a wee while longer.”
“Ten minutes it is, then,” he shot back, flinging them back into the fray, his laughter vibrating against her cheek as she clung to him giggling. She looked at the other dancers and caught Ella’s eye.
“Is it nae wonderful how everybody seems tae be getting’ on so well and enjoying our weddin’ celebration so much?” she said in his ear as they spun about in time to the music.
“Have ye seen Colin and Deidra over there? Ach, she looks so happy, and I’ve never seen him grin so much. And look at Gregory. He’s found himself a beauty in red.” She pointed with her eyes.
Ewan looked and laughed. “He’s certainly enthusiastic, the way he’s throwing the lassie about like that,” he said.
“That’s the pot callin’ the kettle black, Ewan Ballentine,” she teased, out of breath as they once more tripped up the center aisle of the noisy column of dancers. She glanced around as they skipped past, feeling part of one great big happy family, a feeling she had always craved. Ella was dancing with Kelvin and Domnhall and Connor, Gregory’s secretary, had teamed up with a pair of red-headed twins, who seemed to be leading them in a merry dance. Both men looked extremely happy about it. Isla could not help but smile.
Night had fallen when they finally announced their departure and were serenaded to their chambers with a raucous and vulgar roistering from the company, most of whom were now deep in their cups.
“Finally, I thought the buggers would never leave,” Ewan exclaimed with relief as he shut the door firmly on the rowdy crowd. “Are ye happy, bonny lass?” he asked, grabbing Isla around the waist and dancing her unsteadily around the room to a tuneless hum.
Also quite tipsy, she giggled at his antics, throwing her arms around his neck. “Aye, I’m very happy, me darlin’ husband. Are ye?”
“Aye, I couldnae be any happier than I am at this moment.” He twirled her about, grinning at her hungrily before giving her a smacking, whisky-flavored kiss.
Isla returned his kiss with enthusiasm, the heat of desire slowly igniting in her belly at the lascivious intensity of his look. “So, ye could nae be any happier, ye say?”
“Nay, I am perfectly content,” Ewan assured her. “Should we dance some more?” he asked.
“Aye, that would be nice,” Isla hummed dreamily and let him spin her around the carpet, occasionally knocking into the furniture and setting them off into fits of laughter. “But there’s one thing that would make me even happier,” she said after a while.
Ewan hummed in response as he rested his cheek on the crown of her head. “What’s that, me angel, just say the word and whatever it is, I’ll get it fer ye.”
“Why, tae consummate our weddin’ night, of course,” she purred with a smile, pressing her body against his teasingly and batting her lashes up at him.
He grinned at her, his eyes dancing. “Aye, ye look good enough tae eat, and I’m right famished after lookin’ at ye in that dress all night. Let’s dae that right away,” he replied, dancing her unsteadily over to great four-poster bed. “Why, wifey, yer smile is lightin’ a veritable fire in me loins.”
She burst out laughing. “Loins?
“Aye, what’s so funny?” he asked, pretending to be offended. Then he grabbed her hand and pressed it to the front of his kilt. “Take a hold of that.”
“Och, I think that’s a ragin’ inferno goin’ on under there,” she cried in delight, squeezing a handful and enjoying his groan of pleasure. “And there’s only one way tae put it out.” She looked up into his eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip provocatively.
Ewan’s eyes darkened, and he tightened his grip on her waist. “Aye, there’s only one way tae cool me ardor, and only one lassie tae dae it,” he told her as he tumbled them into the coverlet.
Isla’s giggles turned to sighs of pleasure as his hands ran down her legs and slipped beneath her skirts, pushing them up around her waist. “Och, ye’re a sight fer sore eyes, Isla Ballentine. I’ll never get enough of lookin’ at ye. By God, I’m the luckiest man on earth,” he told her, gazing at her stockinged legs and exposed sex hungrily.
“Are ye nae supposed tae take me garters off with yer teeth?” she asked, holding one leg high and pointing her toes, looking at him coquettishly.
“With pleasure,” he told her, and proceeded to do exactly that, trailing ever hotter kisses up and down each leg as he did so, reducing her to a helplessly giggling wreck as he bit softly into her flesh and tore off each of her garters, growling and shaking his head like a dog with a bone before tossing them aside.
She could feel herself growing hot, mostly between her legs, craving the feel of his mouth on her, but instead he moved up her body to unlaced the front of her bodice and let her breasts tumble free, squeezing them together and rubbing his face against them. He groaned appreciatively as he set about sucking and nibbling on them, toying with her nipples until they grew hard, eliciting blissful moans from Isla as she arched her back and entwined her fingers in his hair in near ecstasy.
