Reid watched Corinne carefully. She was like a cornered cat, eyes round, shoulders tensed, and gaze darting around the room.

He had to do this right, else whatever sliver of trust she had in him would be destroyed for good.

“Ye are beautiful,” he murmured, taking a slow step forward.

Corinne glanced down at herself. “Aye, the dress is very fine. The belt complements it well. And Gellis managed to make my hair—”

“Nay,” he cut in. “Ye are beautiful.”

She looked up, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

Reid took another step forward, reaching out to gently grasp her chin. “I ken ye are nervous,” he said, sliding her lip free. It glistened faintly in the light from the fire in the hearth. “But it will be good between us.”

“H-how do you know?” she asked.

“What did it feel like when I kissed ye at the inn?”

Her copper brows drew together. “It felt…good. Warm.” At his expectant look, she went on. “You…tasted good. And my skin tingled and heat shot through me.”

At her words, a fire of longing began to kindle in the pit of his stomach. “And when we kissed last night?” he asked, his throat suddenly tight.

“The same,” she replied, her face flushing. “Though I wanted something…more. It ached.”

“It can be even better. When we join—” he had to clear his throat before going on, “—ye’ll ken what ye ache for, and what will relieve it.”

She swallowed, nodding.

He reached for the leafy garland atop her head and carefully removed it. A few locks of wavy red hair fell around her face, framing her delicate features. Setting the garland aside, he laced his fingers through her hair, letting the soft strands slide across his palms.

With one last step, he closed the distance between them and tilted her head up. Bending, he kissed her lips softly. Some barely leashed animal inside him longed to tighten his hand in her hair, plunder her mouth, and draw a desperate moan from her throat, but he willed himself to go slow, to be gentle.

Her hands tentatively found his shoulders, and even through his linen shirt, heat like a brand sank into his skin. As he deepened the kiss, her lemon scent enveloped him, sweet and bright and just a little sharp.

“I love the smell of ye,” he murmured against her lips. His hands found her waist and unfastened the silver belt there. Then they traveled up until they rested just under the swell of her breasts.

He’d meant to move slowly, to give her time to learn his touch, just as he needed time to learn her body, but then her fingers threaded into his hair, loosening it from its tie. He groaned, both hands lifting to cup her breasts.

She stilled, but then when his thumbs swished over the peaks, she sucked in a hard breath and arched into his palms.

God help him, she was so responsive to his every touch. Aye, it would be good between them, just as he’d promised—assuming he could hold himself at bay long enough to please her.

He gritted his teeth as his cock surged in response to the feel of her pert, hard-tipped breasts in his hands. Damn it all, he would please her, even if he went blind from withholding his own release.

His lips found hers, and although he’d promised himself he’d be gentle, he took her mouth in a rough kiss. She met his intensity, though, opening to him and twining her tongue with his.

He hadn’t realized he’d begun to back her toward the bed, but suddenly she bumped into one of the corner posters. He took the opportunity to grind his hips into hers.

“This is how ye ken I want ye,” he rasped. “This is what ye do to me.”

He let his head drop to her collarbone as his hands began fumbling with her gown’s ties. He dragged his lips along her throat and down to the swells of her breasts peeking over the neckline of the dress.

She moaned, her head falling back against the poster and her fingers sinking into his back.

He needed her naked—now.

With a grunt of frustration, he clawed the rest of her laces free. The gown loosened from her shoulders even as he began to tug it off.

But when he’d peeled away the fine silk and she stood before him only in a chemise, she stilled. Her eyes were dark pools in the low light from the fire, her skin pale with nervousness.

Despite all the blazing passion between them, she was still a virgin, frightened on her wedding night for what was to come.

“I ken it hasnae been a smooth road for us thus far,” he murmured, trailing the backs of his fingers along her jawline. “The circumstances that brought us here have been…fraught.”

“Aye.” She watched him, her features guarded a she waited for him to go on.

“Ye were right earlier—the wedding wasnae a happy event for my people. They are displeased, and I certainly havenae helped matters by going on about our union as an obligation.”

She swallowed, her throat bobbing faintly.

“Yet standing before ye, a brave, beautiful, determined woman, thoughts of duty, of the King’s orders or of my clan’s disapproval, scatter from my mind,” he said. “All I can think of is how ye drive me half-mad with wanting. Ye are unlike any woman I’ve ever kenned.”

Aye, he wanted her. But after so many years as Laird, it was strange for him to consider his own wants.

Under the burden of bastardry, he’d been raised with the knowledge that his very existence was a problem. Aye, his family had been loving, but as the eldest son, he’d been acutely aware of his responsibilities to his clan—and of the failing of his birth.

Because of that, he’d worked harder at serving his people, fulfilling his every responsibility to them, to compensate for his bastardry. He’d stepped in as Laird when Murdoch had died and Logan had fled. He’d married Euna for the alliance it would bring. And he served the Bruce for the betterment of not only his country, but also his clan, so that they could be proud of their role in the fight for freedom.

But now gazing down at Corinne, his own burning desire engulfed all thoughts of responsibility.

“At first, I only saw the bad in the Bruce’s order for us to wed,” he said, watching the firelight dance across her features. “But now I realize that even if we hadnae been forced to marry, I would still long to claim ye as my own.”

And from the need pulsing in his veins and squeezing his chest, he would have defied King, clan, and duty to have her. The thought frightened him, yet that was how strong his desire for her was.

“Thank God for the Bruce’s order, else I would have destroyed everything for ye, Corinne.”

She sucked in a breath, her eyes as wide and depthless as the sea. Suddenly she was reaching for him, dragging him down to her until they were kissing once more.

The trust in her kiss and the welcome of her arms as they looped around his neck snapped something deep inside him. With a growl, he fisted the material of her chemise, pulling it up and over her head.

Forced to break their kiss, he stepped back, panting.

Her lithe body was gilded in soft light from the fire. Every slim angle and delicate curve made her look like a golden angel. Reid’s hungry gaze stole over her breasts, her narrow waist, and the crux where her long legs met.

“Lie on the bed,” he managed, his voice like gravel.

She sat on the edge, then scooted to the middle, pulling back the covers as she went.

Without taking his eyes off her, Reid yanked his shirt over his head and unfastened his belt. As his plaid began to unravel around his hips, he snatched it up and tossed it aside.

At her gasp, he slowed, letting her look her fill as he stepped out of his boots. Her gaze was like a caress, sliding over his shoulders and chest, down his abdomen, and fixing on his jutting, rigid manhood.

Before she could become nervous once more, he lowered himself to the bed beside her.

“I’ve dreamt of tasting yer skin,” he murmured. “Of being inside ye.”

He cupped her hips and drew her closer until they were flush against one another. He let out a groan at the feel of her velvety skin touching his, of his cock pressing into her belly.

Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he rolled on top of her. She went stiff for a moment, but then he lowered his mouth to her breast, his lips brushing her nipple.

She gasped and arched off the bed—giving him all the better access to each perfect breast.

He kissed and laved her until she writhed with need, her breath stuttering. Instinctively, her legs spread and lifted, cradling his hips between them. Ever attentive to her breasts, he let one hand slip between them. His fingers brushed the curls protecting her womanhood. They were already damp. Another pained groan rose in his throat to know that she was nearly ready for him.

He dragged a finger along the seam of her sex until he brushed that spot of a woman’s pleasure. Corinne hissed out a breath, her head twisting against the sheets in a wild tangle of shorn red tresses.

Reid stroked and kissed her until her fingers turned to talons on his back and her hips began undulating against his hand.

Rising up on one elbow, he gripped his aching manhood and guided it to her entrance.

Though Corinne’s breath came ragged, she stilled, looking up at him through the dim light. He met her gaze steadily, holding a lungful of air until she gave him a little nod.

He eased forward, entering her one torturous, exquisite inch at a time. With each passing moment, he could feel her coil with increasing tension until she made a little sound of pain.

“Breathe, sweeting,” he ground out through clenched teeth. A bead of sweat slid down his forehead as he fought for control. Damn, she was so wet, but so tight that he knew he was hurting her.

She relaxed a hair’s breadth, and he knew he had to put them both out of their suffering. He torqued his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. His groan of restrained lust mingled with her whimper of pain.

Damn it all, he’d promised himself to make this good for her. Muttering a curse, he lowered his head and flicked his tongue over her ear. Her inhale encouraged him, so he dragged his teeth over her lobe, holding himself deep inside her to give her time to adjust to his size.

He felt her body ease ever so slightly. He trailed kisses down to her breasts once more, and her legs unclenched around his hips. Though he shook with the effort of restraining the desire to pump into her, he slid a hand between them again and found that pearl of pleasure.

At last, she released a breath, but then quickly pulled another one in as he teased and caressed her. When she was panting once more, he began to move, drawing himself out and thrusting back in slowly.

As he built a rhythm, her legs began to tremble and her back arched off the bed.

“Aye, that’s it,” he breathed, already feeling his control slipping at the sight of her pleasure. “Come for me.”

With a shudder and a cry, she came undone. A bonny flush traveled from her pert breasts up her neck and to her cheeks as she rode the wave of pleasure.

That was his undoing—seeing her unbound, swept away by ecstasy as he drove into her.

Pleasure coiled and then exploded within him. He thrust hard—harder than he should have, some distant voice chided, for she was a virgin. Yet he could not hold the sudden urge to possess her completely at bay.

At last, he sagged over her, panting. God, it had never been like that for him before. Never had he needed to fight so hard to maintain control, to temper the wild, animalistic part of him that wanted to claim a woman as his own. Corinne had done that.

“Are ye well?” he breathed, gazing down at her.

Her eyes latched onto his. Beneath the gloss of pleasure, he saw something else in their depths—vulnerability.

“Aye,” she murmured. “Very well.”

He eased himself onto the bed, pulling her into his arms as he went.

“Sleep now…wife.”

The word felt strange in his mouth. He’d never gotten used to using it with Euna. Yet as he brushed a few unruly locks of flame-colored hair from Corinne’s forehead, he let it sink in.

No matter the circumstances that had brought them together, they were bound now for the rest of their lives. It was his duty—nay, his privilege—to protect and care for her.

Though it was a weighty thought, it made his heart swell against his ribs as he surrendered to sleep.