Page 10 of His Forgotten Highland Bride

Chapter Four

The pain had quickly subsided, and Brenna was encouraged by the pleasant feeling that replaced it. Every time Ronan thrust into her, she couldn’t help but push up from the bed to meet his force.

It was as if her body knew exactly what to do, even though her sister hadn’t prepared her for this enjoyment. Brenna seemed to be floating higher and higher toward…something… She didn’t know what. Could it be heaven? Was she dying? Did she even care if she was?

Ronan shifted above her ever so slightly. It was such a tiny adjustment, but this slight movement had him touching something deeper within her. Something—

“Stop. Please, stop.” She closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep the frightening thing away.

“What is it? Are you in pain?” he asked, his brows pulled into a frown.

“No. No pain, but I fear something is wrong. Something is tightening, like it might burst inside me.” She was out of breath, and the words were hard to speak.

He smiled, and she fought the urge to hit him for his reaction. Did the man not have any feelings at all? She’d thought he had a tender heart under the gruff exterior. She’d seen a hint of it from how he’d taken care of her earlier. His kisses were sweet at first and only slowly moved to scalding.

“Has no one told you what happens after the pain, lass?” he asked, his head tilted to the side.

She blinked at the unexpected question and shook her head. “My sister told me some women enjoy it greatly, but I didn’t think I would because I don’t enjoy many things other women enjoy.”

He gently shifted a stray wave of her hair away from her cheek. “I think maybe you were wrong about that. I believe you’re going to like it a great deal. You’re very responsive.”

“That’s good?” She winced. Generally, her responses were all wrong.

“Yes. I like that you are not shy.”

She smiled, happy to earn his admiration. But she still worried something was wrong with her body. He wasn’t a woman. How could he be sure she wasn’t about to burst into pieces?

“The tightening is a good thing,” he said, making her think she might have spoken her worry out loud. “If I do my part well, you may indeed burst, but I promise all your pieces will remain intact, and no harm shall be done, only pleasure. Just relax and enjoy it. All will be well, I promise.”

She swallowed nervously, then nodded. She would trust him. They had agreed to be honest, and she had to believe in him.

“Ready?”

When she gave a more determined nod, he slid deep inside her again. This time, slowly. She’d no idea this marital duty would be so…pleasurable. She’d thought it would be something she would have to endure, but she hoped she’d be made to endure it every day.

She did as he’d instructed—relaxed and allowed the feeling to rise again. Her insides tightened more and more with each stroke. She did her best to remain quiet. He bent to her ear and nibbled the soft skin there.

“You don’t have to hold back. Make noise if ye wish. I like that, too.”

Again, he liked something that came naturally to her. Hope soared. The moan that left her throat enhanced the experience, especially when he joined in with his groans.

He continued his pace, somehow getting deeper inside her with each stroke…until she did burst into tiny pulses of pleasure so great it stole her breath and made her shout at the same time. Her muscles tightened and then melted. The tremors slowed as he continued to move inside her, but now she felt everything within her so much stronger than before. She felt his heat and the moisture between them.

His thrusts sped up, and then suddenly, he pushed into her as far as he could, and she felt his pulses and a pleasing fire shoot deep inside her. She gasped as she realized what had happened. Her sister had been wrong about nearly every part of this experience. If Brenna could write, she’d send Hannah a letter telling her the truth so she’d know what to expect on her wedding night.

Her husband pulled from her slowly and laid his head near hers. His chest hammered against her ribs. She ran her fingertips through his soft hair, the color of sunshine on a wheat field. When she felt his heartbeat slow, she finally spoke. “I have no experience, but I think you are quite good at this.”

“Thank you.” His breath was still short, but she could hear a smile in his voice.

“Did your other lovers also burst into pieces?”

“I don’t wish to speak about other women in our marriage bed.”

This seemed like an excuse, but she allowed it because she didn’t want to hear about other women in their marriage bed, either.

“Will you take other lovers now that we’re wed?” She probably shouldn’t have asked, for she knew other men had mistresses and lemans. His grandsire had suggested it, but she didn’t like the idea. She didn’t want to waste a single night with her husband.

“We’ll discuss it later. Sleep now.”