Indulging the Senses

 

The ring of a hammer striking an anvil was the first sound Rosalyn heard as Ethan handed her down from the carriage at Gretna Green. Excitement raced through her. At last, they’d arrived. At last, he’d be hers.

“This way, my love.” Ethan tilted his head at a white-washed blacksmith’s shop.

She looked him up and down. He’d changed into his kilt, a dramatic red plaid. Never had she seen him more handsome.

His gorgeous blue-gray eyes narrowed. “Have you changed your mind?”

“Far from it,” she whispered. To settle the matter, she caught the lapels of his coat and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I can’t marry you quickly enough.”

He said nothing, but his eyes roamed her body. She’d worn her best dress, an ivory muslin with pale blue satin trim about the hem and the neckline. Perhaps she shouldn’t have. From his expression, she knew so very soon, he’d be ripping it off.

He gave her fingers a squeeze and, hand-in-hand, they headed toward the Blacksmith shop.

The wedding was a short affair. The Blacksmith Priest was an ancient man with thin wispy hair but a voice that boomed like thunder. He married them at once, with the young blacksmith who had been hammering the horseshoe, as witness.

Rosalyn closed her eyes and smiled as Ethan repeated his vows, the lilt of his brogue and the deep timbre of his voice playing her body like a violin.

Then, at last, the deed was done.

“I’m of a mind to rest the remainder of the day, my sweet wife,” Ethan said as they left the smithy and headed for the inn across the lane.

“Rest?” She lifted a wicked brow.

He chuckled, caught her hand, and brought her fingers to his mouth.

She followed him across the lane, feeling caught in a most pleasant dream. Oh, some small part of her was keenly aware of the summer afternoon and the way the breeze rifled her hair. The larger part, however, only saw what mattered the most: his broad shoulders, his strong thighs, and the kindest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

The next thing she knew, he’d swept her up in his strong arms, carried her up the stairs, stepped over the threshold of their room, and kicked the door shut.

“My love,” he whispered in her hair as he set her on her feet.

She ran her hands over his chest. His skin felt so pliant and warm under her hand, even through his crisp linen shirt. The muscles under the fabric tightened beneath her touch.

“God, I want you,” he said in a husky voice.

She slid her palms up his muscled chest, then he caught her by surprise and carried her back against the wall and held her there, firmly. Her channel flooded with heat.

“Shall I pin you here?” He grazed her lip with his teeth, just the way she liked it. “Methinks my large girth and length would feel beyond wondrous as it slides deep in this position, aye?”

“Yes,” she moaned as a wanton heat pooled between her legs.

As she feverishly tugged at his shirt, sending a button or two flying across the floor, he impatiently unfastened her dress. She heard the sound of tearing fabric, but whether it was his or her doing, she couldn’t tell, nor did she care. At last, their clothing pooled to the floor, and finally, no barriers stood between them.

“We’ll experience the wall soon enough, lass,” he murmured, nipping her lip. “But methinks a bride should be first bedded properly in a bed.”

“Properly?” she moaned. She liked the sound of that. He’d spent the journey torturing her with his mouth and his fingers. She’d yet to feel the pleasure of his hard cock.

He swept her up and carried her to the bed. Chills raced along her skin as he gently lay her back on the counterpane. He stood there a moment, feasting his eyes on her naked flesh as she did the same, admiring the hard planes of his chest and his powerful thighs.

Then she glanced up to his face, and the look in his eyes set her body on fire. “Take me, Ethan. Please. I need you inside me.”

He dropped onto the bed and slid his hard body over her, kneeing her legs apart at once.

“At last,” she panted impatiently.

“Och, you’re a firebrand,” he teased. Looming over her, he dropped his hand between her legs. As his thumb found her swollen bud, he began nibbling her breasts. She moaned, enjoying the skill of his fingers. But now? Now they were wed. Now, she needed more.

“I want your shaft in me, Ethan,” she moaned, arching into him as she buried her hands in his hair. “Please.”

“Shall I drive myself to the hilt?” He teaseds her folds with his fingers.

She lifted her leg. His shaft nudged her moist heat. “Take me, Ethan. Take me, hard.”

“Och, wee beastie, I’ll have you screaming pleasure soon enough,” he promised as he fondled a taut nipple between his first and middle fingers.

“Now,” she insisted.

He teased her first, and drew on the tips of her breasts, then as she lifted a brow, he chuckled. “If you insist.”

His expression altered, and lust rolled over his face.

Her heart pounded. At last. The excitement built as he positioned his body. His hot, turgid shaft brushed her inner thighs, and he dropped on his elbows to cradle her face between his hands.

“I love you, lass,” he whispered. “Even though you’re a greedy wee thing.”

She smiled and caught his bottom lip between hers. “I love you, more.”

A gleam entered his eyes and he dropped his lips over hers. As he thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth, he impaled her on his shaft in one, single hot thrust, straight up to the hilt.

“Yes!” Rosalyn cried into his mouth, heart pounding as he stretched her wide.

His thick cock slammed into her tight inner canal, so hot, so raw. He filled her completely, his muscular body pinning her to the bed and offering no escape from the endless pleasure of his unyielding cock.

She fisted the sheets and lifted her hips to meet him, thrust after desperate thrust. She wouldn’t last long. Already, she stood on the brink of release. Wet heat flooded between her thighs, allowing his shaft to pleasure her deeper than she’d ever experienced before.

Then her orgasm struck. She gripped his arms and dug her nails into his skin as her body clamped down hard on his shaft. Wave after burning wave radiated from her core until every part of her hummed with pleasure.

He roared and gripped her hips hard, his shaft buried as far as her flesh allowed. He looked her straight in the eye as his seed shot deep inside her. She took his throbbing shaft until he’d milked the last of his essence. At last, he pulled free, slid off to the side, and draped one large leg over hers.

“You’re a wonder, lass,” he murmured. “But I do have a wee question.”

Rosalyn turned onto her side and faced him. “And?” she prompted when he didn’t continue.

A devilish spark lit his eye. “You judged me on so many things. Hygiene, tidiness, and the like. Tell me, what is my score for the category of love? Am I still a ten?”

She snorted and caught his mouth in a long, sweet kiss, then pushed him firmly onto his back. “I fear I shall have to investigate the matter further, my lord.” She sank on to his already rising shaft.

“I shall be delighted to help,” he murmured, and began to move his hips.

 

 

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