In Bed With A Stranger (17 page)

“Do you actually think women are so frail, or is it merely because I’m English?”

He turned to look at her. “Aye, I see ye’re fine and strong. Maybe I’m a wee bit overprotective. I know many a lass who would have quarreled with sleeping on the trail.”

He sounded pleased with her. Her heart latched onto that information, clutching it tightly.

“But we’ve a fine bed waiting for us tonight. As much as I enjoyed the hay, I believe we’ll leave the stable to the horses and the maids.”

She laughed at his suggestive comment. “You’re a poor example, talking that way.”

“What example? Did I nae get married? Have I nae followed ye out of the hall twice to do my husbandly duty?”

“
Brodick.
” She cast a look toward the wall. “Your men are listening.”

He leaned close, his breath warm against her ear. “I hope they heard ye yelling with pleasure.”

“Oh…” She slapped a hand in the center of his broad chest. The brute chuckled at her temper, tugging her along behind him.

“Come, Wife. Let us to bed.”

He raised his voice so that it bounced off the walls. Her face flamed scarlet with his amusement ringing in her ears. Yet there was also pride filling her. She could not deny that it pleased her to know that he wanted everyone to know that he enjoyed having her in his bed.

Many noble brides were not so desired.

If that meant she was guilty of the sin of vanity, so be it.

He took her across the courtyard, several of the men on the walls peering down at them. Brodick held her hand fast, even when she wiggled her fingers. Night surrounded them. Even in the tower there was meager light. Few candles were lit along the walls inside. It was quiet, too, no one in sight. Brodick led her up the stairs, his boots making no sound on the stone steps. For so large a man, he moved well. It spoke volumes about him. His father had clearly seen to his training. No man learned the art of carrying his weight without tutoring. Boys began their tutelage at five, the same time daughters began to follow their mothers to work. Lady Mary had been instructed in dance, movement and royal service for years before being placed at court.

Brodick pulled her into the chamber they’d shared the night before. Changes had taken place during the day. Three ornate tapestries covered the walls near the fire. There was also a matching set of candlestick holders on a newly arrived vanity table. Made of silver and carved with artful designs, they held lit candles that filled the chamber with yellow light.

On the table was a mirror. Anne gaped at the costly item. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d snuck a peek in Philipa’s. Such an item was worth more than the mare she’d ridden to Sterling. The candle flame flickered off the polished surface of the mirror in a pagan dance that mesmerized. This was a highly prized possession even for an earl’s house. She reached out, stroking only the silver frame that held the polished glass. Her reflection joined the flame. Anne stared in wonder at her face. Her lips were slightly swollen, far sultrier than she’d ever considered herself. She knew her hair was brown but in the mirror it shimmered with copper highlights, tiny wisps of it loosened from her braid by Brodick’s hands framing her face. Her skin was creamy and smooth like fresh cream in the spring when the cows were eating lots of greenery.

“You’ve met with Helen’s approval for certain.” Brodick appeared behind her. “As well as my own.”

He wrapped his arms around her. The embrace was warm and secure, such as she couldn’t recall sampling from anyone save her mother. A steady reminder of how strong he was. She felt the thumping of his heart against her back. His lips twitched at the corners as he watched her in the mirror. He moved a hand up from her waist and over the swell of her breasts. Even buffeted by her doublet and stays, she shivered, her skin humming with approval. His fingers rubbed a small circle on the soft portion of her upper breasts.

“I’m glad to see that ye like yer bridal gift.”

“Gift?” Her breath caught as he moved his hand to her bare throat. She felt so vulnerable, the column of her neck fragile compared to the strength she knew he had in his hand.

“Aye. The mirror is a present from me. A good friend of mine brought it back from his recent voyage to France.”

“That was very…very kind.”

He leaned down and she watched, fascinated, as he kissed her neck. Seeing it was incredibly arousing. She could see his lips compressing against the smooth surface of her throat. At that same moment, her skin rippled with the warm sensation of his kiss.

“I can think of a few things to do with it myself.”

His hand cupped her jaw, lifting it. With a twist of his fingers he opened the first button and then the second. A tiny gasp crossed her lips as he set his fingers between the open edges of the garment to touch her bare skin.

“Things I nae considered a mirror being useful for, as a matter of fact. It may have been well worth the gold I traded for it.”

The next button separated and several more. She followed his fingers devotedly, excitement rising inside her with each little pop. He used both hands to spread the edges open. The mirror reflected her stays and the swells of her breasts.

“Now that’s something verra pretty to gaze at.”

He pulled her doublet over her shoulders and down her arms. There was a brief moment when he stepped back from her to free the garment from her wrists. She shivered at the loss of contact, sighing when he returned to press up against her from head to toe. Her attention was drawn to the differences between their genders. His wider shoulders that appeared on either side of her own. His face was harder, his jaw more firm with less curves than her own. Her eyes were framed by longer lashes that looked somewhat coquettish.

“We do make an interesting view. I like it much better now that yer sweet skin is in sight.”

“This must be wrong.”

His fingers trailed up the center of her stays and she stared at them intently.

“Why is that?”

His voice had deepened to that tone he used when he was becoming aroused. Her gaze dipped to the kilt shielding his cock from her sight. Was he growing stiff behind the wool?

Her face flooded with heat, her eyelashes fluttering. His eyes glittered as they noticed the telltale movement. With a shaky breath, she tried to leave. His arms tightened to keep her in place. His head tilted and she watched him open his lips. He closed them gently around the lobe of her ear, sucking it into his mouth.

“
Brodick
…”

“Aye, Wife?” He locked stares with her in the reflection. “What is wrong with enjoying yer gift? I bought it to give ye pleasure. Do ye deny that ye’re quivering with enjoyment?”

Her lips rounded with a little sound of confusion, all other words failing her. He chuckled near her ear, his chest shaking against her back. It was decadent. All of the sensations and sights combining into a mixture that intoxicated her senses. His fingers reached the tie holding the front of her stays closed. With a quick jerk he pulled it loose. Hooking the first crossing of laces with a crooked finger, he tugged the lace out of the eyelets. Her breasts felt heavier, almost swollen. He hooked the next crossing of laces and then the next. The stays lost their supporting hold on her, the stiff garment falling open now that it wasn’t held in place by the strong cord.

“I think there is something very right about this moment.”

He pulled her corset free, dropping it carelessly onto the floor. Her chemise was thin, made of fine cotton, the darkness of her nipples showing through it. Another gasp left her lips. This time Brodick echoed the sound with a swift intake of his own breath. His hands hovered over her breasts, only two fingertips pressing against her chemise to stroke her nipples. A deep shudder sent gooseflesh down her arms. She could actually see the tiny bumps decorating her forearms. Behind the fabric, her nipples drew taut, the hard tips visible in the mirror.

“Now there’s a sight I’m sure I dinnae want to miss. Yer nipples are very pretty.”

Were they? She didn’t know. Moving her gaze to his face, she witnessed the hard hunger drawing his features tight. Her waistband popped open, making her jump.

“I could get used to maiding ye with my own hands.”

“Wait.” Her skirts puddled around her ankles and shins before she spoke. The small padded roll around her hips didn’t last very long either. Brodick had untied it without hesitation. “We already…um…”

“Fucked? I remember it very well.” Amusement coated his voice.

“Why are you toying with me?”

Her chemise billowed now, falling around her body loosely. The flicker of the candle flame illuminated the curves of her body, causing her to look like some pagan offering. Heat moved through her passage, slow and deep. It wasn’t the white-hot flash of need that had assaulted her in the stable; this time it was centered in her womb.

“Who told you that a man and woman could only share intimacies once a night?” He set his hands on her hips, trapping her chemise there. The action drew the fabric tight across her breasts, showing off her hard nipples.

“Now I want to seduce ye.”

His hands smoothed over her hips, moving down her thighs to the edge of the undergarment. When his hands slid onto her bare skin, sensation ripped into her. He curled his fingers into talons, pressing each fingertip into her legs and raking his hands back up her thighs. The chemise rose and she stared in fascination as her thighs became visible. Higher, and the soft hair on her sex was revealed. Breathing became difficult as her belly was exposed. Her own hands gripped his kilt while he drew his fingertip along the sides of her breasts.

She lost the vision in the mirror as he drew the fabric over her head. Her eyelids fluttered, a soft moan crossing her lips when she gazed into the mirror again. The flickering flame illuminated her bare body. Her breasts were small, round globes that hung like tear drops, slightly fuller towards the bottom. Each one was set with a small pink nipple, the tips hard buttons.

“You’re a vision, lass. Like a siren from the Greek voyages. I’d follow ye to the rocks.”

“You shouldn’t say such things.”

He didn’t return his hands to her. He reached up to untie his sword. The dark handle was still visible above his right shoulder. The wide leather strap that held the scabbard along his back was shiny in the candlelight. He untied it with a quick, practiced motion. He set the sword down, leaning it against the wall directly next to the table. His kilt brushed against the back of her thighs when he moved back next to her.

“And ye, sweet wife, shouldnae be so quick to place borders around our union. Our marriage is a tool for sweeping aside outdated ideas.”

His hand hovered over his belt buckle. Her gaze centered on the reflection, her breath stilling in her throat.

“Since it excites ye and me, what is wrong with enjoying our mirror?”

“I don’t know.”

And she didn’t care. His fingers turned slightly white as he gripped the end of the leather belt. With a jerk he pulled it back enough to allow the twin prongs to spring free of the holes in the thick leather. Her gaze became fixated on his kilt. She wanted to know if his cock was hard.

Could the idea of lying with her actually raise him a second time in as many hours?

A wicked idea for certain, but heat flowed into her passage, awakening her clitoris. His grip released and the belt fell. She felt the slither of the fabric dropping along her bare legs until her stockings interrupted. His shirt didn’t allow her to see his cock.

A soft chuckle shook her back. “Dinnae look so disappointed, lass. Patience is a virtue.”

She scoffed at him. “Your teasing is misplaced.”

“Och now, is it?”

She pursed her lips and shrugged. “I could be as cold as a newly netted fish. Unresponsive and very uninterested in seeing anything you might have behind your kilt.” Reaching back, she pressed his shirt tail against his crotch. The fabric folded around the erect form of his sex, her hands gently fingering it for only a moment. His cheek jerked as his eyes narrowed, the mirror showing her his response clearly.

“Just think, my lord. I might lie upon your bed squeezing my eyes shut as stiff as an effigy.”

Anne turned, retaining her grip on his cock. Watching had lost its appeal. Need was whirling around deep inside her belly. She wanted to touch and be touched. But she was also feeling bold, as though she needed to be as confident with the subject of intimacy as he was. She wanted to tease him with the same ease that he toyed with her, not shiver like an ignorant virgin.

“Ye certainly tried to avoid me well enough.” A hint of frustration laced his tone. Working her fingers over his cock again, Anne shrugged.

“Really? You believe so?”

He grunted. “I have a good memory.”

Anne walked past him, careful to step over of her skirts. She felt his eyes on her bare bottom, her clitoris begging for a stroke from his fingers. The side bed curtains were drawn, the interior of the bed glowing red from the coals in the fireplace. Casting a look over her shoulder, she placed a knee on the bed.

“Be careful what you suggest. I might decide to repent my lustful infatuation.”

The bed ropes groaned when she crawled up onto the ticking.

“I’d have to take ye in hand and warm you up…again.”

He was following her, slowly stalking. He paused near a stool, propping one foot onto it. With a pull and tug, his boot dropped to the floor. The head of his cock pushed against the creamy shirt tail when he moved. A smug look decorated his face because he watched her looking at his crotch. Anne didn’t lower her eyes. She stared straight into his gaze, refusing to consider whether it was right to look at his sex.

Watching in the mirror had been very pleasing and she wasn’t a liar.

His second boot hit the floor. “Lie back.”

“All the way?”

“Aye.”

She scooted back while he gripped the hem of his shirt and drew it over his head. There was no teasing about it. Brodick threw his remaining garment across the room. With him completely bare, she lost a great deal of her bravado. He was magnificent, his body honed into tight ridges of muscle. On an animal she would have been impressed; in this man she quivered because his strength would soon be working between her thighs. The idea was as intoxicating as the reflection had been.