Highland Moonlight (26 page)

tension. “Can you still want me like this?”

The import of her words struck Alexander with the force of a battle-axe.

Grasping her hand, he pressed a kiss within her palm then guided it to the

evidence of his desire for her. “Seeing my seed growing inside you feeds

my need, Mary.”

Instead of jerking her hand away, as he expected her to do, she ran

her fingers over the long length of him in exploration. Her touch, gentle and

hesitant, brought him near to trembling. His earlier hunger for her returned

with a vengeance.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. The generous curve of her bottom lip

beckoned. He lowered his lips to hers to taste it with his tongue and draw it

into his mouth. He tried not to rush her into a passionate embrace, but the

fluttering caress of her tongue against his had him growing painfully hard.

He sucked on the tip of her tongue as though it were a piece of black truckle

candy. His hunger for her was a raging fire he fought hard to control as he

pressed her back on the bed.

The kiss ended, and he rubbed his cheek against hers as he gave her

time to catch her breath. Mary’s arms slid upward around his neck to hold

him closer. She followed the trail of the scar across his cheek with a

fingertip then with her lips.

Alexander found it hard to remain acquiescent beneath her attentions.

He had been starved for her kisses and her touch. Now that she seemed

intent on showering him with such gifts, it was difficult for him to control the

responses that leaped to meet her every advance.

He turned his mouth to hers. The kiss went on and on, their tongues

meshing in slow sensuous movements that probed and tempted in a

parody of lovemaking.

He tightened his hold bringing her against him. The pebble hard nubs

of her nipples pressed into his chest. The hard heat of his manhood thrust

like a blade between them against her bare stomach.

The kiss grew languid and hot. Her hands caressed him moving in a

slow exploration over his shoulders, down his chest and ribs. She wiggled

closer, her bare skin brushing against his. Raising her knee along his hip,

she opened herself to the lusty friction as he thrust against her, tempting

and teasing her with his body.

He groaned beneath the pressure of the kiss. He craved the warm

moist heat of her body, but the distrust that had once held their intimacy at

bay demanded he proceed with caution.

Breathing as hard as she was, he broke the kiss and slid downward

to nuzzle her breasts through the fabric of her shift. Her fingers stroked his

hair and cradled his head against her. He peeled the shift over her head

and tossed it aside, baring the velvety soft warmth of her flesh.

In the meager light of the fire, his eyes took in the changes her

pregnancy had wrought. Her rose tipped breasts looked round and full, their

crowns darker. Her abdomen, slightly distended with their child, gave her a

ripe womanly look that brought feelings of possessive tenderness into play.

He traced a dusky nipple with a fingertip causing it to pucker and

harden. His gaze rose to her face as he continued to toy with the tender

peaks. He guided her arm around his neck. “Put your arms around me,

Mary. I’ve longed to feel your bare skin against my own.”

With kisses, he drank of the budding passion she offered him as his

hand kneaded the tender flesh of her breasts. She pressed against his

touch with an unmistakable eagerness. He followed the rounded curve of

her belly then moved lower to stroke the soft skin of her thighs.

“Open to me, Mary,” he urged. “‘Twill give you pleasure.”

Joy swelled within him as she parted her legs, for in doing so she

offered him a trust she had thus far denied. He rested his hand on the soft

hair covering her Mons as his lips and tongue explored the curvature of her

ear.

She shivered in response and turned her lips to his. She whispered

his name again, as his fingertips delved between her thighs parting the

lightly furred flesh. Her body quivered as his touch settled on the sensitive

little nub he encountered. Her thighs inched apart as her hips began to

undulate in response to the careful pressure he applied.

Tracing the intimate opening of her body with a fingertip, he found her

hot and wet, ready for him. He pushed a single finger inside her by slow

degrees. The warm moist heat of her taunted him with the pleasure

awaiting him. He moved his finger in a flickering movement to tempt her

further. Mary caught her breath and her hand grasped his wrist though her

body arched in response.

“‘Tis how it shall feel when I come inside you, Mary,” He murmured as

his lips sought her throat then her shoulder. His mouth latched onto one of

the dark rose peaks and he sucked on it. His finger matched a rhythm she

began to catch as he probed and caressed.

She opened herself wider and pushed into his hand, his name a plea

of passion he had never thought to hear. She raked her fingers through his

hair.

He slid downward to position himself between her legs. He ran his

tongue down the outer crevice of her Mons. Her hand grasped his where it

curved around her thigh and she gasped his name in shocked surprise. He

parted the tender folds and ran his tongue over the tiny bud he encountered,

tasting the salty, sweet heat of her.

She began to relax and melt into the caress of his tongue and push

against his lips. He settled to his work more intently. His tongue flickered

and writhed inside her making her moan as her fingers gripped his hand

tightly. Her muscles tensed, her hips tilted beneath the probing depth of his

tongue, straining toward a deeper penetration.

Mary was panting when he covered her body with his own. His gaze

focused on the passion flushed features of her face as the tip of his

manhood slipped inside her. He eased forward slowly for she was small

and tight and his need was great. The sweet, tender intimacy between

them, when he settled deep inside her, was like nothing he had ever

experienced before.

Looking down into her eyes was like gazing into a hot summer sky.

His lips covered hers, joyful relief in the kiss they shared. “I could not wait

any longer, Mary,” he said huskily.

“You have waited long enough.” Her hands ran in restless caresses

up and down his back.

His lips settled over hers in a long lingering kiss. He rocked forward

then back, his movements slow and careful giving her time to grow

accustomed to the feel of him moving inside her. Gradually, her body began

to relax and accept each easy thrust. She melted around him, warm and

wet.

His movements grew more definite though he kept the same slow

pace. Mary began to respond to the rhythm with movements of her own,

drawing on him with delicious heat. He whispered fevered words of

encouragement as his quest for release became a compulsive need that

stripped away some of the careful control he had exerted earlier.

Her lips sought his throat as her hands caressed him. She spoke his

name in ragged tones spurring him on. Their bodies strained against one

another, burrowing closer and closer, craving more as their pace increased.

She ran questing hands down his back cupping his buttocks, as the

moist heat of her palpitated around him building and building toward

release. His name became a whispered incantation rising in strength as

she arched beneath him, her body clenching around him as fulfillment

found them both. Alexander’s body bucked and heaved as his seed pulsed

forth, the power of his release making him groan aloud.

It was some moments before he risked disturbing the closeness they

had found, for fear it would disappear. Slowly, he raised his head to look

down at her. He smoothed back the silvery strands of hair from her face and

viewed her flushed cheeks and dark glittering eyes with a smile. “Is all well

with you, sweet wife?”

A slow smile, warm and alluring curved her lips banishing his

concern. Her laughter bubbled forth. “Aye, all is wondrous, my husband.”

****

their breathing. Mary ran restless hands up and down Alexander’s back until

the heavy beat of their hearts settled to a steadier rhythm.

His hands had often been restless when he touched her of late, but

there had been something more tonight in the way he had reached for her,

the way he had looked at her. She had not thought to be afraid, only to offer

him what he needed. She had not expected to feel such pleasure in the

giving. The wonder of it settled inside her more light and joyous than

anything she had ever known. She smiled again.

He started to ease from atop her. “Do not part from me yet awhile,

Alexander,” she urged softly, her arms tightening around him holding him in

place. Now that she had discovered such a feeling of closeness with him,

she wanted him to stay inside her as long as he could.

“Mayhap the bairn will not be pleased by such an intrusion,” he teased.

“I am told ‘twill not bring him harm to share my attentions,” she said

with a smile.

His brows rose in surprise. “And who was it you sought out to ask

such advice, Mary?”

“Derrick’s wife, Anabal is a midwife. She comes each day to see him.”

Just the memory of their conversation caused her face to burn.

Chuckling, he brushed her lips with such tender attention her heart

seemed to melt with love.

“When was it you spoke to her?” he asked.

“‘Twas a few morns past.” She wondered at how easily he had stirred

the embers of her feelings with such a gentle caress. Once again aching

with a glorious feeling of need, she felt ready for the thrust of his body all

over again.

“The priest told me such acts are only practiced in the hope of

begetting children, but Anabal and Derrick are most—affectionate though

she is bairned.”

He drew back to look down at her. “If God had not meant for husband

and wife to seek such comfort and pleasure with each other, he would not

have given us such a gift, Mary. ‘Tis right and good and meant to breed

affection and loyalty, as well as children,” he said, his tone and features

intent.

“You are late in offering me such assurances, Alexander. We have

already done the deed.”

His smile reminded her of a mischievous lad. “Aye, we did very well.”

It thrilled her to know she had brought him pleasure for he had

certainly brought it to her. Mary trailed her fingertips up and down his back.

“‘Tis a wicked thing.”

Alexander frowned. “‘Tis not a wicked thing to share yourself with your

husband, Mary.”

“Nay, not that. ‘Tis a wicked thing to be shamed for doing what is

natural with one’s husband.” With the act, she had shed some of the guilt

instilled in her by the priest during her stay at the abbey. Her husband’s

willingness to share himself, his gentleness, had eased her fears and

made it a natural thing to give herself to him. “‘Tis a wondrous gift you have

given me, Alexander.”

His lips brushed her cheek, her brow then settled over hers once

again. “‘Tis a gift we have given each other.”

“The way it was before—- “she stopped. “I did not expect to receive

pleasure in our marriage bed, only to accept my duty,” she explained.

“Duty is a cold master, Mary, and has no place in our bed,” he said, his

features tense. He started to say something more then nuzzled her neck

instead.

She worked her hands upward to encircle his neck. Her lips sought

his throat where the warm blood throbbed beneath his skin. She tilted her

hips upward seating him deeper inside her. “Does this feel like duty,

Alexander?”

“Nay,” he murmured, “It feels like heaven.”

“How oft might we appreciate such a gift together?” she asked. She

nibbled at his earlobe and she felt him shiver in response and the swelling

fullness of him growing hard inside her.

“As oft as we wish.” He turned his lips to hers and his tongue taught

hers a flickering dance that tempted and teased and set a titillating ache of

need throbbing within her.

“If you are not too tired from your labors, ‘twould please me to taste

such joy again,” she said, her tone breathy and soft.

“I will never be too tired to serve you, Mary,” he promised, as he began

to move inside her.

The quick beat of the music being played in the great hall above

penetrated the thick stone walls as Mary followed Alexander down the

stairs. The air felt damp and cold, permeated with a musty scent of dust and

dirt mixed with a foul stench. The pitch torches on either side of the stairwell

cast eerie shadows on the gray stone. The booted steps of the men behind