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He yanked her tight against him. “Can I trust your word on that, wife?”

His face was close to hers and she caught the hint of mint on his warm breath and the way his eyes held hers with a strong glare. She spoke how she felt. “I have little choice, husband.”

“That you do,” he said, glad she spoke the truth to him though it was not her words that had interested him as much as her lips that were far too close to his.

Tavia spotted the change in his eyes that went from a glare to a spark of passion when they fell on her lips. She wondered if it was what flared her own passion or if it was the way he held her so intimately against him. It truly did not matter since pure instinct or perhaps pure passion had her pressing her lips against his.

Bhric had felt the subtle change in her, her body no longer ridged against his and a spark of passion chasing away the hint of fright in her soft blue eyes. He had intended to kiss her then, but she reacted faster, and he was glad she had.

He took charge of the kiss, his lips demanding against her soft ones, and she responded with the same intensity, her arms going around his neck. He quickly walked them to the back wall, bracing her against it and keeping her there not only with the strength of his arm but with the strength of his body.

He never felt the overwhelming urge to kiss a woman as he did now with his wife. He had enjoyed kissing other women but never felt an intensity to do so as he did now. He wasted no time in urging her lips open with his tongue and slipping in for a more intimate taste. Hesitant at first, but with gentle insistence from him, she responded eagerly—and never had a kiss been more satisfying.

His body, however, wanted more, much more, and he found himself situating her against him so that his manhood—that had hardened quickly—fit perfectly between her legs. He pressed against her with a slight rub and when she responded in kind, seeking what he offered, he increased and quickened the rhythm of his movement.

Tavia was not sure what was happening to her, but whatever it was, she did not want it to stop. Never had she felt so alive, so excited, so ready for whatever it was that gripped her with such pleasurable intensity.

She tore her mouth away from his to drop her head back against the wall and take much needed breaths. She loosened her arms from around his neck and gripped the top of his shoulders as best she could, the muscles thick and hard there. And she could not stop a soft groan that slipped out as he rubbed against her.

“Bhric,” she whispered with a soft breathlessness.

He saw the passionate plea in her eyes that she was close to climax and to his surprise so was he. But he would not have them couple here in the shed for their first time, though he would not deny her the pleasure of feeling what awaited her in their marriage bed.

“Bhric,” she urged on a whisper.

His name spilling with such urgency inflamed his passion and he would not be able to stop from spilling his seed if he did not end this now, and he did end it with a hard thrust against her. He quickly captured her scream of pleasure with a kiss.

Tavia shuddered as the last of the most exquisite feeling began to fade away and her lips fell away from her husband’s, glad he had caught her unexpected scream with a kiss. She would not want anyone hearing her or one of her husband’s warriors rushing in worried she was in danger or worse Fen rushing in and attacking Bhric thinking he had harmed her.

She was disappointed when he eased her feet to the ground and took a step back, so their bodies were no longer touching, though his arm remained around her waist. It was then she realized his touch was rigid and that he looked away from her as he took deep breaths. He had not responded as she had to what had transpired between them. Had he gotten no pleasure from it as she had?

“You found no pleasure with me?” she asked, concerned, having hoped for a mutual compatibility when it came to the marriage bed and all it entailed. Otherwise coupling would be nothing but a chore for them and that would not make for a good marriage.

His eyes were on hers in an instant, his words harsh. “When I spill my seed it will be inside you where it can take root and produce an heir to carry on the Clan MacShane name. At least now you have a taste of what to expect in the marriage bed and it appears that you will enjoy it.”

His blunt, cold response had her stepping away from him and going to the door where she stopped and turned to boldly say, “That, my lord, remains to be seen, for I know not if your manhood will be of an adequate size to please me.”

* * *

“What has you so surly today?” Sven asked.

“It is nothing,” Bhric snapped.

It had been hours since the incident in the shed with his wife and he was still fuming over it, though it was not his wife he was angry with, it was himself. He had not anticipated enjoying the unexpected intimate encounter with his wife as much as he had. And while he made sure to satisfy the women he had poked through the years, never had he felt the intense need to see a woman brought to pleasure as he had with his wife. His rambling thoughts had him questioning just what he felt for his wife. Had she sneaked inside him and somehow touched his heart? Could he actually care for the wee woman? Or did he more than care?

He had found himself looking forward to spending time with her, talking with her, and trying to ignore how much he wanted to kiss her. Then there had been the dreams of coupling with her, always waking before the final climax and too often having to please himself. A few times he had gone to the door that separated their bedchambers ready to end the foolish dictate he had declared for himself, but stopped, annoyed he was allowing his shaft instead of his head to rule.

When he had seen that Tavia followed him and Sven, he had set a quick plan to catch her. Sneaking her into the shed had not been part of it, that had been instinct. And he went and spoiled their enjoyable encounter with harsh words, though her parting remark definitely hit its mark and he almost stopped her from leaving to show her just how adequate his manhood was.

That he had taken his frustration out on her when she had been concerned enough to ask if he had enjoyed their encounter is what had been troubling him the most. Now he could not get her out of his mind nor could his manhood since he felt as if he were in a perpetual state of arousal.

“I have lost count as to how many times you snapped at me and others today. None of the warriors want to go near you and your sister avoids you since you snarled at her over the simplest thing. And I am tired of walking softly around you,” Sven said, annoyed after his silence had lingered too long. “Go bed your wife and be done with it.”

Bhric turned a growling snarl on his friend.

“You do not frighten me, but you are frightening everyone else especially the Clan MacShane. Mumbles spread that they fear you are about to kill a few of them,” Sven warned.

Bhric snarled again.


Tags: Donna Fletcher Historical