Chapter Eight
They rode hard back to Dunstaffnage, fearing Olafsson’s men were on their tail. They warned every village of the possibility of war, and word soon spread throughout every clan.
There was no telling whether the Norsemen had seen the Scots upon the rise, but soon enough, perhaps in a day or two, they’d realize that Dirk was not coming. That Lilias was not to be delivered. And then they’d come searching.
Lilias sighed with pleasure, riding at an intense pace beside him. Even with the fear that surrounded their decision to wed, her soon to be mother-by-marriage couldn’t have been happier. A smile never left her face—even when he kissed Lilias the few times they made stops through the day. Even when he tucked her into her makeshift bed. They laughed and exchanged conspiratorial winks when Fenella clucked her tongue, reminding them both that propriety was still important given they’d yet to exchange their vows. Never mind that simply declaring themselves to each other in front of all in their caravan theoretically counted as a true marriage under Scots law.
Always the gentleman, Dirk did not take advantage of their promises to each other, saying he’d rather wait to claim her fully once they’d wed in his family’s kirk, and then he could make love to her languidly in the bed they’d share as a wedded couple.
Three days later, they arrived at Dunstaffnage, still elated and filled with anticipation.
Lady Elle stood in her usual green gown upon the battlements, silver-red hair flying out behind her in waves, a knowing smile on her face as she waved and the portcullis was raised.
They were bathed, dressed, and wed within the hour. There was no need to explain to Lady Elle, who seemed to have expected their imminent return.
Dirk ordered a feast hastily made that his mother and grandmother took the lead on. While the kitchens prepared the meal, he carried Lilias up the rounded staircase to his bedchamber—their bedchamber. The room had been freshly cleaned. Flowers adorned the tables giving a light, floral scent to the room. Candles were lit all around the perimeter, and a low fire blazed in the hearth.
The pink light of a setting sun streamed in through the few arrow-slit windows where the coverings had been pulled back to allow air to circulate.
“My love.” Dirk nuzzled Lilias’s neck, breathing in the scent of her hair, and she wrapped her arms tighter around him. “I was in such torment when I thought ye might not be mine.”
“I still feel like this is a dream. A wonderful dream from which I dinna want to wake.” A whirlwind. Once they’d decided to wed, they’d made all haste getting back to Dunstaffnage, for this moment.
Dirk grinned at her, nibbling her lower lip. “’Tis no dream, love. We are together now and always.”
Lilias cupped the side of his face and kissed him gently, savoring that they were finally alone for the first of many times. “Always. I love ye.”
“I love ye, too. Can ye feel my heart pounding for ye?”
She giggled, pressing her hand to his heart. “Can ye feel mine answering your call?”
Dirk slid his gaze from her face down to her breast, the place where her heart beat. Sensing his hesitation, Lilias grasped his hand and gently laid his palm in place at the center of her chest.
Glancing up at him through her lashes, she said, “Ye can touch me, husband. Every day for the rest of our lives.”
“’Tis beating so fast. Now ’tis I who feels like I’m in a dream.” Gently he placed her down, her feet skimming the fronts of his boots.
She was a tall woman, but around him, Lilias always felt petite, and somehow that was pleasing.
Though he’d put her down, he didn’t stop touching her. And she him. They seemed unable to part fully. One of his hands remained on her heart, and the other slid over her hip, tucking her flush against him. Every solid line of sinew molded to her softer curves. And there was one rigid force in particular that pressed hotly to the crux of her thighs.
Dirk pressed his forehead to hers, gazing into her eyes. “I’ve wanted ye since the day ye walked through my castle doors.”
Lilias sighed, pressing closer. “Make me yours fully.”
Dirk settled his mouth on hers, nibbling gently, and she sank against him, parting her lips to deepen the kiss. She loved kissing Dirk. If making love was anything like the way he kissed, then she knew she’d enjoy that, too. He was gentle, masterful, and her entire body came alive in his arms.
Where once she’d been so filled with fear, now her happiness knew no bounds. She’d been the ripple. She’d endured, just as her mother taught her. Lilias and Dirk together would vanquish the enemies of Scotland.
Lilias clung to her husband’s shirt, kneading the muscles beneath as his hand slid from her heart to her breast. He cupped the rounded globe and slid his thumb over her nipple, causing her to gasp at the sudden rush of feeling as the skin there grew taught, an infinite and delicious ache that hooked to on invisible line linking straight to her core.
“I love the way ye respond to me,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Never stop,” she ordered softly. However nervous she was about the marriage bed, she was exceedingly more filled with anticipation. She wanted this. Dirk made her feel comfortable, beautiful, desired, safe. Opening herself up to him was only natural.
“Never.” He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her down on its surface and sprawling out beside her.
She sank into the soft mattress, rolling slightly to the side to gaze at her husband, memorizing every line of his handsome face. They lay there, murmuring words of love, smiling with pure joy and triumph. At last, they’d made it. The journey and the risk had been treacherous. But here they were. Reveling in each other.
Dirk caressed her breasts as he nuzzled her neck, licked her collarbones, and then drew his heated mouth down the length of her bodice, hovering over one turgid nipple and then the other. Oh, how she wanted to rip her clothes off to feel the heat of his mouth on her bare flesh. He toyed with her ankles, flipping off her shoes, and then slid his hands slowly up her legs to undo her hose.
As he rolled the wool down her legs, he kissed her gently on her knee, her calf, her ankle.
Lilias sighed, gasped, her breathing erratic and little mewling sounds that she’d never thought to make escaped her.
“Ye have beautiful, long legs.” Dirk trailed kisses back up her legs just to her inner thigh by her knee, then rose above her to claim her lips once more.
He rolled to the side, then his back, taking her with him so that she lay atop him, and as he kissed her, deftly untied the laces at the back of her bodice.
When she sat up, straddling him, the heat of that very hard part of him was so close to her own center, sending wild frissons to pulse through her core. Her gown fell loose around her shoulders and Dirk pulled it over her head, leaving her in only her chemise, but that was soon gone, too.
Her husband stared up at her in amazement, his hands resting hotly on her thighs, her breasts rising and falling with her heavy breaths. Every part of her felt alive, sparking.
His heady gaze raked over her, making the place between her legs tingle. “Ye’re exquisite.”
“Thank ye.” She felt herself blush at his heated gaze. “I want to see ye, too.” Lilias tugged at his shirt, sliding her hands beneath, feeling the muscled flesh of his abdomen, the light sprinkling of hair, tickling her palm.
Dirk did not move her from her straddled position as he unpinned his plaid, tugged off his shirt, and unbuckled his belt, letting the fabric of his tartan fall open. He lay beneath her just as exposed, the thickness of his arousal jutting up between her legs. The sight of him was… shocking to say the least, but sent a titillating thrill of excitement racing through her limbs, too.
Boldly, she reached to touch him, her fingers wrapping around the turgid length, her thumb brushing over the ridge and velvet tip. She was amazed that something this hard could be so silky smooth.
The muscle in Dirk’s jaw ticked, and he breathed hard through his nose. “Saints, lass…”
“Is this not pleasing?” She slid her grip up his length, and his entire body tightened beneath her.
“Incredibly pleasing,” he said through gritted teeth. “If ye continue, there will be no claiming this night, for I will spend right into your delicate hand.”
Lilias giggled and gave him one more stroke before Dirk flipped her back over, settling himself between her thighs.
“Ye’re a vixen,” he growled, leaning down toward her breasts and flicking his tongue out over her nipple.
Lilias bucked off the bed, gripping tight to his shoulders, the move causing her sensitive core to slide provocatively over his shaft. She gasped at the pleasurable sensations that thrummed through her veins from head to toe. Dirk growled in answer, gently biting her nipple.
“And ye’re a…,” Lilias giggled. “What is the male version of temptress?”
Dirk chuckled as he skimmed down the length of her torso, his mouth hovering over her sex. Her eyes widened as he tasted her, and then they fell shut as wicked, glorious bliss took over with every stroke of his tongue.
“I believe that would me a debaucher…” As he spoke, he licked. Again and again. “A role I am more than happy to play for ye, my vixen.”
Lilias moaned, as his fingers found her center, sliding inside her, stretching her, while his tongue worked its magic. She held her breath, pleasure mounting, until she could do nothing but moan and gasp and let the flashes of heat ripple through her, diving deep and spreading outward, like waves crashing and swirling sand on the beach. She cried out at the intense sensations, her hands threading through his hair, wanting him to stop and to keep going all at once.
“Ye climax beautifully,” Dirk murmured, climbing the length of her body and settling his hardened length at her entrance.
“Thank ye.” Lilias gazed at him, bemused, trying to catch her breath. She bit her lips. “I want to…taste ye, too.”
Dirk grinned mischievously. “Did I say vixen? I meant seductress. Be gentle, love.”
Lilias gave a triumphant laugh as she knelt before him, gliding her hands down his abdomen toward his turgid length. Gripping him, she leaned forward and touched her tongue to the tip. He drew in a harsh breath, his hands sliding over her back and threading through her hair.
Glancing up at him, she asked, “Is that all right?”
“Perfect,” he ground out.
With a triumphant grin, she licked him again, then took his length the rest of the way into her mouth. He tasted like salty silk on her tongue. But he only allowed her one tiny suck, before he wrenched her up and tossed her onto her back.
“I need to have ye, love. I canna let our first time end like this. Look what ye do to me.” He gripped his wet shaft, hard and long.
Lilias licked her lips, thrilling and craving more. “Then I did well?”
“More than well.” He leaned over her, kissing her languidly, his thigh parting her legs and rubbing tantalizingly along her sex. “Are ye ready for me, love?”
“Aye.” And she was, incredibly so. If he wanted to do this every night, she was more than willing to accommodate him.
Dirk pressed gently forward, as she clung to him, toes curled. He thrust through the barrier of her maidenhead, the sharp pinch acute and startling her. She’d known there would be pain, but with all the bliss she’d felt up until this point, she’d not expected it to be so intense. Fully seated inside her, he gazed down at her.
“Are ye all right?”
Lilias blinked, nodded, biting her lip. The pain had been quick and was just as quickly fading. “The pain is easing,” she said, amazed.
“Tell me if this hurts.” Dirk slid out, and then slowly thrust back in. His breathing was deep, measured, and she imagined if he allowed himself to pant like she was, that his carefully orchestrated control would snap.
Lilias waited for the pain, but none came. Instead, that same pressure she’d felt when his mouth was on her core brushed its way up her thighs. Lifting her legs higher, Dirk slid one hand beneath her thigh, hitching it around his hip. She did the same on the other side, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
His pace was slow and gentle. Gliding in and out, kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts.
Aye, she’d been right… His lovemaking was much like his kisses. Infinitely full of pleasure and love. Intense and powerful. Amazing. Thrilling. She never wanted it to end.
They rocked together, murmuring of their love and joy, and when the time came that no more sound but audible cries of pleasure came, they rode the waves together.
Though a love between them had been forbidden, there was nothing that could separate them. Their love triumphed. Again and again. Theirs was a future foretold, but a love so great that no one could have predicted its power.
Soon the battle would come back to Lilias and Dirk, but they would be triumphant. By the birth of their second child, the King of Norway would be dead, and his hold on Scotland relinquished.
Through their line, the MacDougall Legacy would be unstoppable.
The End
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