The Eternal Highlander (21 page)

“Aye…well…” She forced a smile and began wringing her hands together as she explained, “Tis rather like knowing that someday soon, though you are not sure when exactly, you will have to approach the blacksmith about knocking a rotten tooth out.”

“Knockin’ a rotten tooth…” Connall was staring at her with disbelief, though she didn’t understand why. Nor did she understand why, when he finally spoke, he sounded somewhat upset. “Me lady wife, I realize ye havenae—What on earth makes ye think—
“Knockin’ out a rotten tooth?”

Eva bit her lip, unsure what she should say to improve the situation. He seemed rather offended by the comparison. “Well, I have never—I mean, from what I have been told, it does not sound like something to look forward to, my lord.”

“What ha’e ye been told?” He sounded as if he were forcing patience.

Eva considered whether she had the courage to repeat Mavis’s description and was quite sure she didn’t. It was one thing to be told that by another woman, it was quite another to repeat it to the man with the boiled sausage he intended to use on you. She shook her head helplessly, but Connall apparently wasn’t in the mood to humor her.

“What’d that useless brother o’ yers tell ye?”

“Oh, it was not Jonathan,” she assured him quickly. “It was my maid, Mavis…Well, she was not truly my maid. She worked in the kitchens, but did occasionally act as lady’s maid to me…Well, once or twice. She traveled to court with us because Jonathan said I needed a lady’s maid there,” Eva explained lamely, then fell silent, aware she’d been babbling.

“I see, and what did this Mavis tell ye aboot what goes on between a husband and wife?”

Connall was sounding a little less angry now, she noted with relief. Still, it was difficult to imagine telling him so she said instead, “Well she was describing what went on between the servants, not necessarily between husband and wife, if you see what I mean?”

“Stop stalling,” he said quietly. “A wife shouldnae fear telling her husband ought.”

Eva sighed at these words, it was becoming obvious that he wasn’t going to let this pass and she was going to have to repeat what Mavis had said. She was beginning to wish that she had never opened her mouth, but had simply awaited his pleasure in silent suspense. Unfortunately, she hadn’t done so. Deciding that there was nothing for it, she gathered her courage and blurted, “She said it appeared that the man and woman wrestled a bit and then he stuck his boiled sausage up between her legs.”

Connall made an odd sound, somewhere between a cough and snort, then turned his head abruptly away so that she could not see his expression. Eva was not certain at first if he were angry or shocked, but then she noted the way his shoulders were shaking and suspected the man was actually laughing at her. Indignation quickly rose up in her, but before she could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Eva glared at her husband as he glanced around, then stood and headed for the door.

“Yer flouncin’!” Connall crowed with amusement. “Damn me, I’d ha’e sworn ye were no a flouncer, but yer flouncin’!”

Realizing that she was indeed flouncing, Eva tried to correct her step, but was simply too agitated to manage it. Giving up the attempt as she reached the door, Eva wrenched it open, then quickly replaced the scowl on her face with a forced smile when she spied a wide-eyed Glynis standing in the hall, bearing a tray with a bottle of wine and wineglasses on it.

“Thank you, Glynis.” She reached to take the tray from her. “And thank you for lighting the fire.”

“Oh but—” the maid tried to snatch the tray back, no doubt recalling her laird’s order that his wife was to carry nothing, but Eva was in a sorry mood and stepped back out of reach, then pushed the door closed with her foot. She whirled back toward the room then and almost crashed the tray into her husband.

“I shall take that. No need to risk an accident,” he said mildly as he relieved her of the tray and carried it to where the chess game was set up.

Eva no longer felt like playing chess, if she ever had, and she definitely did not feel like finally living up to her wifely duties, not that she ever had felt that either. All she really wanted at that point was to be left alone to lick her wounded pride, so, she stayed where she was by the door, glaring at her husband’s back as he set the tray down and set about pouring wine for both of them. She continued to glare at him as Connall then lifted both glasses and carried them back to where she stood. An arched eyebrow was his only response to her irritated glare, then he handed her a glass, took a sip of his own and said, “Mavis got it wrong, lass.”

Eva narrowed her eyes. “She did?”

“Aye. Drink yer wine.”

Eva automatically took a sip, then asked, “What did she get wrong?”

“Well, there is much she left out, or perhaps was simply unable to see in a dark great hall at night with who knows how much distance between her and the people in question.”

“What did she leave out?” Eva asked.

“Well, for one thing, she left out the kissing.”

“Kissing?” Eva’s interest was definitely engaged now. She still recalled that brief brush of lips after the ceremony and the way her mouth had tingled.

“Yes. Like our wedding kiss, only more.”

“More?” she echoed with interest. “More what?”

“Drink yer wine,” he instructed instead of answering.

Eva took an impatient gulp, then repeated, “More what?”

“Tis difficult to describe,” he said, then raised one eyebrow again. “Perhaps I should show you?”

Eva stared at her husband uncertainly as she considered what to say to his question
“Perhaps I should show you?”
What she wanted to say was, Yes. Eva had enjoyed his kiss at the end of the wedding ceremony and would not mind experiencing that pleasure again. Then too, she really was curious about the “more.” She gave the smallest of nods and raised her face to his, her eyes squeezing shut as she did. Almost immediately, she felt his lips move gently over hers as they had at the wedding, a soft, sweet caress of his mouth across the delicate skin of her own. Eva almost found herself sighing at the touch it was so pleasant. Then it changed a little, becoming a little firmer and she moved eagerly forward, happy for the increased pressure and the warmth it sent rushing through her. This time she couldn’t hold back her sigh, and her lips parted slightly beneath his. Connall immediately tilted his head more to the side and opened his own mouth to catch the sigh, then she felt his tongue slip out of his mouth and into hers.

Eva’s eyes popped open with surprise, then closed again. She had seen couples kissing like this before, servants she had come across unexpectedly at Caxton, catching them out in brief embraces. It had seemed an odd and hungry kiss, not really all that pleasant, but she found it was quite pleasant indeed, and it
was
a hungry kiss, or at least it made her hunger, though she wasn’t quite sure for what.

Her mouth instinctively opened further under the onslaught and when Eva felt his tongue glide over her own, she heard a moan pierce the air around them and knew it came from herself, but didn’t much mind. It didn’t seem to bother Connall and so long as it didn’t stop his kissing, Eva didn’t care. She could be embarrassed later, but for now, she thought she could be quite happy to have him go on kissing her forever.

Several moments passed, or perhaps only one—she was having difficulty keeping hold of her thoughts, let alone time—then she heard the sound of splashing water. Eva wasn’t sure where it was coming from until she felt Connall take the wine away from her, leaving that hand free. Her other thought was caught up in the material of his plaid, clutching it as if it were her only hold on sanity in a world gone mad. Now she allowed the other to tangle itself there as well, so that she could hold him close to her lest he decide to end the kiss.

“There is more,” Connall told her as he eased the kiss.

“More?” Eva echoed. She was vaguely disappointed as he retracted his tongue from her mouth, but was also distracted by the way his lips were nibbling along her chin toward her ear.

“Hmmm. Other kinds of kisses.” He reached her ear and did things there that made her gasp in surprise and shift up onto the tips of her toes.

No one had ever—she hadn’t even considered—dear God, had someone set her skirt on fire? It felt as though her lower regions were being consumed by heat…and she liked it, Eva decided, moaning and arching and tugging at the cloth of his plaid as his mouth moved on to her throat now, his tongue whipping her into a frenzy. Mavis had managed to leave this part out. And fie on the maid for doing so, she thought vaguely; Eva was quite sure this was the best bit of the whole thing.

The thud of the wineglasses hitting the floor made her start, but then Connall distracted her with his hands, catching them at her waist, then running them up her back and back down. He didn’t stop at her waist this time, however, but continued down until he was cupping her buttocks. A shocking caress indeed, but she liked it. She liked the way he pressed his lower body into hers too, and the hardness that she felt.

Connall left one hand there, holding her firmly against him, then lifted his lips from the collarbone he had been teasing with his tongue, and covered her mouth with his own. This kiss was even more passionate and hungry than the other had been and Eva felt herself melt into him, as a warm liquid sensation pooled in her lower belly and slid down to where he moved against her. Dear God, the kissing was heavenly. It was amazing, exciting, overwhelming, and—where had the top of her gown gone, she wondered vaguely. Somehow it was now pooled around her waist, exposing her naked flesh to the room at large, not that Connall could see her, with his mouth on hers, she assured herself but—

“Oh,” she murmured the word into his mouth and bucked against him in surprised reaction as one calloused hand cupped, then closed over one of her exposed breasts.

Connall caught the soft word in his mouth and filled hers more fully with his tongue. The action prevented any possibility of protest as he gently kneaded and squeezed the breast, then began to torment its nipple, catching it between thumb and forefinger and rolling it gently before lightly pinching it.

Eva had the wildest urge to push the man to the floor and rub her naked chest over him. Instead, she began to kiss him back in earnest, becoming a partner in the activity instead of a quiescent recipient. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, rubbing it across his, then withdrew it to suck on his tongue instead. Eva didn’t know if she was doing this well, she was merely following instinct, but it felt so good she didn’t much care, either.

The pressure of the bed against the back of her knees several minutes later was when Eva realized that Connall had been moving them both across the room to the bed. The feeling of fur against her backside was when she first noticed that her gown was no longer around her waist, but was gone altogether, as were her undergarments. She wasn’t wearing anything at all, not a stitch, not—

“Oh.” This time the sound came from much deeper in her throat, as Connall broke their kisses again and ducked his head straight down to claim the nipple he had been so effectively caressing. If she had thought his touch there exciting and stirring, his lips closing over the tender and already excited flesh was earth-shaking.

Eva tossed her head and arched against him, unashamedly rubbing her lower body against the hardness she could feel between his legs. His boiled sausage might not sound attractive, but it felt good pressing against her. At least with the plaid as a barrier it did, she thought, then she stiffened and let her eyes shoot open as she felt him slip one hand between their bodies and dip between her legs. The cool, calloused skin of his fingers smoothed lightly across her heated flesh and Eva reacted as if it were a brand, her entire body leaping in his arms, her legs closing instinctively to trap his hand even as she pushed herself against him.

She was of two minds at that point: She was so sensitive that the touch seemed almost unbearable, yet she didn’t want to stop. Her body reacted to her confusion, squirming to get away from his touch one moment, then arching into it the next. Connall resolved the issue for her by trapping her legs with his own, then forcing them further apart and holding her in place as he touched her.

Eva tossed her head on the fur, small unintelligible mewls coming from her throat, intermittently peppered with “Oh nos,” which were immediately followed by “Yes, please.” In truth, she didn’t know what she wanted, whether it was for him to stop, not stop, or perhaps just for him to make the need go away and stop driving her mad with his caresses. Then he added a new touch to his repertoire and Eva felt something alien push into her, stretching her even as he continued to caress her. Eva groaned at the sensation, some part of her mind sensate enough to know that it wasn’t his boiled sausage because she could feel that pressed against the top of one thigh. All she could think of was that it was a
finger
sliding in and out of her.

Eva went still for the briefest of moments as the very alien nature of the caress struck her, but he was still touching her where she was most sensitive and her body began to quiver in confusion and need, then move of its own accord into his touch. Eva began to moan again, the sound growing more intense with each stroke. Her body was now suffering a tightening sensation that became more intense by the moment and was concentrated where it was receiving his attentions.

Just when she felt sure she would shatter under the building pressure, the tension suddenly snapped, and Eva cried out and dug her nails into Connall’s shoulders. Her body arched and bucked beneath the furor, then she cried out again as pain followed the pleasure, wiping out everything before it and shocking her into stillness. It was no longer his hand between her legs—he had replaced it with his boiled sausage.

“Tis the only time ’twill hurt.” Connall panted those words near her ear and Eva finally realized his presence on top of her. Odd as it may be, for a moment she had been so startled by and concentrated on the pain that she had almost forgotten him altogether.

“Tis because yer pure.”

Eva was still panting and out of breath, so merely nodded to let him know she had heard and understood him.

“The pain should go away soon. It doesnae last.”

Eva nodded again. In truth the pain was already receding, leaving her body limp and pulsing beneath him in a rather pleasant way.

“Is it leaving?” Connall asked and Eva couldn’t help but notice that he sounded desperately hopeful.

Eva nodded again.

“Och, thank the good Lord,” he muttered against her forehead, then pressed a kiss there, before turning his lips to her mouth and kissing her there again as well.

Despite the shock she had just received, the passion she’d thought now dead, stirred lazily within her under his kiss. It stirred again when he eased his boiled sausage out of her, then just as slowly and gently eased it back in. Eva felt a sudden need to arch and stretch beneath him, then instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him tighter against her when he next stroked back into her body. She wanted to hold him there and rub against him, but he wouldn’t be held and withdrew yet again. This time, when he moved back, it was more a thrust than a slide, his body almost slamming into hers.

Eva gasped at the sensations that were shooting through her. The pain was not completely gone, there was a touch of tenderness, but the pleasure was returning and building back up to its earlier levels so quickly it was difficult to believe they had ever been sated the once. It was also overwhelming the minor discomfort that grew less with each passing moment. Eva scraped her nails up his back, clutching him close and moaning as he continued his actions and drove them both to the place where she had felt sure she would simply shatter and die the first time.

She was not alone when she reached it again, even as the tension snapped in her and her body began to quiver and shake beneath his. Eva heard Connall gasp something in Gaelic in her ear, then thrust one final time before stiffening and crying out himself.

This time when she lay, limp and pulsing, Connall lay atop her, panting and limp as well. Whether he was having the same pulsing sensation as she was, she didn’t know, and she was too exhausted to ask. So much so, that if it weren’t for the fact that breathing became easier, she wouldn’t have noticed when Connall moved off her to lay at her side. Eva stirred when he turned her in his arms and curved her into his body so that her bottom pressed against the shrinking sausage that had shown her so much pleasure. But when he then pulled the furs up to cover them both and just lay there with one arm curled around her, holding her against him, Eva allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

It was some time later when she awoke to slow caresses and sweet kisses and Connall proved to her that the pain really did occur only the first time. Then she slept again until he stirred her once more. This time the fact that he was dressed, made it obvious that he had left the room and was returning and she helped him to strip before he joined her.

It was near dawn when they collapsed exhausted, side by side, and dawn’s grey light was creeping around the edge of the furs at the window. Eva was just drifting off to sleep when she felt Connall stir. At first, she simply thought he was shifting in the bed to a more comfortable position, and allowed herself to doze again, but the soft click of the door closing a moment later made her sit up in bed, suddenly wide awake.

Where the devil was he going? He had slept somewhere else since her arrival, just where exactly she wasn’t sure, but surely he would sleep with her now that they had consummated the marriage? Wouldn’t he?

After a hesitation, Eva got up, took the new dark blue robe that had been made for her and drew it on as she moved across the room. The flames had died in the fireplace long ago, her room was as dark as a tomb except for the stray of grey light which crept in around the furs at the window, but there wasn’t enough light to be seen from the hall, she was sure. Eva didn’t hesitate to ease the door open and peer out into the hall, blinking as the torchlight there assaulted her eyes. There were several torches to light the way, but only one at the top of the stairs was lit. However, it was enough light for her to make out the dark shape of her husband walking down the hall to the opposite end. The man hadn’t even bothered to put on his plaid again, but strode down the hall naked as the day he was born, his pale skin gleaming in the torchlight.

She saw him stop at the end of the hall, touch two places, then the stone wall that faced the hall at that end of it suddenly slid open and Eva gasped as her husband stepped inside and it began to close again. She was about to call out and hurry after him when a dark shape suddenly separated itself from the top of the stairs and moved after her husband. Eva snapped her mouth closed and waited.

She had no idea who it was, but their stealthy movements didn’t make her think that they belonged there. The figure moved to the far end of the hall and she saw him run his hands over the stones as if in search of the places her husband had pushed. Eva watched tensely until, after several moments of fruitless searching, the dark shape apparently gave up the search and began to move back up the hall. She immediately eased her chamber door closed to a sliver, lest she be seen, and simply watched the person, hoping that she’d be able to tell who it was when they passed the torchlight at the top of the stairs.