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Revulsion stirred within Ainsly. The entire night had been one where she felt nauseous and trapped. How she wished she could have been strong enough to fight off all the invaders with her sword! But she was just a woman, and as much as she might try to deny it, women had their place in this world, and usually, it was wherever a man said it was.

What a fall from grace it was to move from being the laird of the clan to this brute’s wife. When she looked at him, she was filled with disgust. All through the evening, he had tormented her and taunted her, and now he dared to lay his hands on her. Every time he did so, she shuddered. The only thought that kept her going was that one day soon, Seamus would lead a rebellion, and then she could make this man pay—make them all pay.

But that didn’t stop him from putting his hands upon her. They were bound by something deeper than leather now; by vows. Even though the words had been hollow and laced with bitterness, the vow was still spoken in front of men and gods, and it was not a thing easily broken. Despite everything that happened, Ainsly was still a devout person, and she knew she would need the favor of the gods if she was to reclaim her clan.

Ian was huge and hulking. His body bristled with tension and heat. As he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him, she knew it was helpless to struggle. He was as strong as the winds that howled in winter, the ones that barraged the walls of the keep and threatened to tear trees from the ground. His huge hand encompassed her scalp. Pain flashed as he arched her neck back, and then his lips were upon her. The kiss was firm, and she felt the passion stir underneath. His breath was hot, and his masculinity was not in question. She was unable to stop a soulful whimper from escaping her lips. Her body betrayed her, and she hated it. There were instinctive feelings that responded to his touch, and she hated herself for it, but at the same time, strange sensations swam through her, swirled like the stars, and she felt as though she had drunk a barrelful of ale.

The sensations were unfamiliar to her. All of this was unknown to her. It was as though he was ripping away, all she knew about the world and showing her something entirely different. Her skin was scorched by his touch, and she knew she could not resist, both for her own safety, but also for the safety of her people. She was his wife now, and by right, he could do whatever he wanted with her, and she had her duty, too. There were many times in life when she had turned angry at the state of the world, always being told what women should do and what women should be. It never seemed as though men had the same restrictions. She’d had to fight for everything: to wield a sword, to wear the clothes she wanted, and even to become the laird after her father had passed. It was only because she was a woman that there had even been a question over her suitability to lead the clan, given it was her right by blood and the fact that she had proven herself to be a capable leader.

And now she was reduced to being a wife of a brute, a war prize of this man. There was a hungry look in his hazy eyes. Despite all he had eaten and drank, he was still strong enough and conscious enough to seal their marriage vows by taking her virtue. He pawed at her like a wild animal, and his passions became too powerful to hold within him. Soon enough, she found her clothes being torn away, and her soft, pale skin exposed to the air. She gasped as he growled with ardor. Flames spread across her flesh as his hands explored her body.

“Oh lass, I am a blessed man.” His eyes lit up with delight as he ran his hands down the middle of her body. She rolled her bottom lip into her mouth, trying to stifle a gasp as his palm cupped her breast and flickers of pleasure burst through the bitterness and the anguish. There was a twitch of arousal in the middle of her body and heat started to spread between her legs; it seemed as though her body was yet another thing she had lost control of. He kissed her neck and the hollow of her throat. His arms squeezed her waist and enveloped her entirely, as though she was being swallowed up by the abyss of his passion and lust. She turned her head away, wincing, wondering that if she just kept her eyes closed and thought of something else, she might be able to endure the night, but no, it wouldn’t work. She had to be convincing. She had to prove to him that she could be a dutiful wife so that she could distract him when it mattered, and so that he wouldn’t take out his wrath on the innocent people in the keep.

“I hae never known a lass like ye,” he breathed. She shuddered as she wrapped her hands around his neck and played with his hair.

“But ye hae me at a disadvantage.” She tried to sound as coy as possible, and forced a small smile on her face. He leaned back and breathed with relief at the respite from his burning kisses. She swallowed a lump in her throat as he stepped back, smirking, and undressed. His clothes slipped away, leaving him standing there completely naked. She couldn’t help but take in every magnificent inch of him. He stood tall and proud without a hint of shame, while her shoulders were rounded, and her arms curled around her in order to try and cover her immodesty. His body was wide and tall, like a mountain. His muscles were defined by hard angles, and he was covered in scars. Lines crossed all over his flesh, from his shoulders down to his legs. No doubt, each one of them had a glorious story, but for a moment she was struck by how much pain he had endured during his life. He was a few years older than her, but the number of scars…she gasped as she realized that a lot of them must have come from his childhood.

It was strange to think of this brute of a man as a child. Was there ever a time when he had been small and helpless, vulnerable? She could only imagine him coming into this world fully formed as this warrior, ready to do battle and lay claim to whatever he wanted, but she knew things did not work like this. This man had been a baby and a boy. He had a past, but what past could have turned a man into one like this?

A thick bed of hair covered the expanse of his chest. It was like a forest that covered the plain land of the valley. The dark hair narrowed as it reached his abdomen and the thin line led down to a part of him that made her breath catch in her throat. His manhood was just as impressive as the rest of him. Fear and intrigue danced in her mind; Ainsly had never felt so small. The smirk and the faint amusement fell from his face.

Ian closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her hips. His skin was slightly darker than hers. He traced his hands around as he looked at her more closely, his eyes roving about with an eager gaze. He found a scar just above her waist, and she winced, for it was a blemish on her body that she hated. But he touched it, just as he could touch any part of her because she was his.

Power emanated from his body, and she felt the scorching heat sizzle against her skin. She could feel herself drowning in him and knew she had no choice, but there was something more than that as well.

Part of her wanted this.

The touch of another human elicited something deep and profound inside her, and it was pleasing. Aalthough she hated this man, she did not hate what she was doing. A haze rose in her mind. It was as though her body was telling her that everything was going to be alright and that it was fine for her to enjoy this, that she didn’t have to feel guilty about it at all.

Ainsly melted into Ian’s embrace and pressed her head against his chest. Her hair flowed down to the middle of her back. Her breaths were short and sharp while his were deep. Now that she was so close to him, she could hear the thrum of his heart; it was steady and even, unlike hers, which was beating rapidly. She looked up at him and wondered what was coming next. His hand rose up the back of her and cradled her head. He tilted his chin up and looked down his nose at her as if to remind her of his dominance. Then, pain flared as he snarled and threw her onto the bed. She landed on her hands and knees, and suddenly fear took hold. A shadow loomed over her as he came onto the bed. The frame creaked under his weight, and his hands slammed around her body, holding her in place as though she was some beast, some prey that would escape him.

He was so strong compared to her, and although she tried to break free, his grip was as strong as iron, and there was no chance of her escaping. The air crackled with heat, and she could hear his breathing deepen. When she twisted her neck around, she saw the fury in his eyes. It was as though something had possessed him, and it frightened her. Ainsly’s gaze drifted down to his hard manhood, and she knew he would not show her mercy with that any more than he would have shown her mercy with a sword. Pain flared inside, and her heart clutched with fear, knowing that this would be the rest of her life if she did not take a stand now. Despite everything he had taken from her already, there were some things he could not take, some things she would not let him take: her pride, courage, and her sense of self-worth, among others.

“Nae!” she shrieked and used all of her strength to wrest free of his grasp, turning to face him directly. She placed her hands upon his and dug her nails in to help loosen her grip. Sweat glistened on her body and aided her movement, making her as slippery as an eel. Ian’s head shook, and he blinked, focusing himself.

“Ye would dare deny me?” he thundered in a low, threatening growl.

“I will give myself tae ye,” she said, although she almost choked on the words. “I am yer wife and I hae made vows, but the fact is that I am yer wife. I dinnae want ye tae treat me like any of the women ye hae been with before. I’m nae some slut that ye can mount and hae yer way with, then forget about in the morning. Ye are nae gaeing tae leave me with bruises, Ian. If ye want me tae treat ye like a husband, then ye need tae treat me like a wife. I’m nae the only one who made vows.” Her voice wavered as she tried to impose her will upon him, and she managed to hold his gaze even though his eyes burned.

For a moment, she was sure that he was going to strike her. Ian raised his hand and placed it on her shoulder. She thought he was going to curl those thick fingers around her throat and pin her down, choking her while he stole her virtue, but instead he turned his palm around and caressed her cheek. The tender touch was something that she hadn’t expected.

“Ye are right. Ye are my wife,” he admitted. She was struck by surprise, for she had not expected that he would actually acquiesce. “How would ye like tae proceed?” he asked.

Ainsly was stunned. “I…I dinnae ken...” Her voice faltered as her head dropped. “I hae never done anything like this before.”

“Are ye telling the truth, lass? Ye hae never been with a man?”

Ainsly shook her head, and her cheeks glowed with embarrassment. “I was waiting until marriage,” she said, and what a hollow thing that proved out to be. She had always thought it was a noble choice to make, but now it just seemed foolish, like so many other things in her life. His hand shifted under her chin and tilted her head up so that she had no choice but to look directly at him. In his eyes, she saw something she had never expected to see—tenderness.

“Ye are my wife, and I will treat ye as such,” he said. This time when he kissed her, it was like a whisper, soft and sweet, and her heart began to open. His arms wrapped around her, and they sank onto the bed, their flesh pressing against each other. As he kissed her, Ainsly found the sensations more pleasurable and became used to the rivers of passion flowing through her body. At first, she fought them, but in time she realized she didn’t want to. His hand drifted down to the hot wetness in the middle of her body and made her feel as she had never felt before. The heat spread all over her, making her tingle and tremble. Her legs parted instinctively as his fingers explored her. Her breath deepened, and her skin was flushed. It all happened so quickly. There was nothing she could do to stop it, and she found that she did not want it to end.

Her mouth opened. Was this what it was always like between a man and a woman? He seemed to know just what to do, and his prowess was not confined to using a sword. Ripples and flutters turned into great waves that crashed through her. She placed her hands around his shoulders and clung onto him for dear life before something else happened. He groaned as he shifted his body around, and she felt him pressing against her, so hard and ardent. A whimper slipped between her lips as her husband, the invader, took something else. It only took a moment, and the two of them were connected intimately, their bodies writhing together. Pain blurred with pleasure.

Ian’s arms slipped around her and held her tightly. His fingers ran through her hair as his kisses silenced her moans before he buried his head in her neck. He moved slowly, and she moved to the same rhythm. She was swept along by the song their bodies were singing, and the hatred she had for him slipped to the back of his mind. In this moment, there was only room for pleasure. She found herself kissing him back and wrapped her legs around him to bring him even deeper inside her. Ainsly spread her hands over his back and felt the sinews of his muscles, turning taut as tension rippled through his body. She could feel all his strength coming into her, becoming hers, and she realized that he wasn’t the only one taking something away. A delirious feeling rose within her, and she felt as though she was floating as the rhythm increased, and the terse moans crashed against her flesh. Ian’s grip tightened on her, and his deep burr rolled in her ear as the bed threatened to break. Her body was locked in his grip as pleasure flooded them both, and then in one glorious rush, heat spread through her, blazing a trail in the depths of her body right through to her soul. Ian’s body trembled and then froze for one moment before he slumped over her and heaved breath into his lungs.

He rolled off her and dragged her close to him. The hair on his chest was flecked with beads of sweat. She listened to his heart, but it was not steady now. No, it beat fiercely. It beat for her.

The heat and passion lingered in her body, playing havoc with her mind. She knew she should hate this man, but when it mattered, he had listened to her. Could it be that he did have room for kindness in his heart? She closed her eyes and tried to find the part of her that hated him, but it was hard to battle through the swell of pleasure that had risen in bed with him. She breathed deeply and looked up as he fell asleep. Her fingers danced around the base of his throat and over other scars. Who was this man, truly?

She supposed she might have a lifetime to learn if the rebellion didn’t come to fruition. For now, she had to settle with being his wife, and she wondered if every night was going to be like this.