‘And what is that?’
‘Highland justice, lass.’ This was not a good subject for his wedding night. The thought of the villains raiding his land sparked anger when he should be gentle and patient. ‘But do not concern yourself with it, for you are in no danger here, from them, or anyone else, now that you have my protection.’
‘And I am thankful for it, Callum, and for you getting me out of that awful, dirty place I found myself in.’
His anger flared again. ‘Tell me truly. Did anyone lay a hand on you there, Tara?’
‘No, apart from that woman forcing me into that dress and painting my face.’
‘Your face needs no painting. It is perfect as it is.’ She gazed up at him, and her blush deepened. Callum could not help but stare and drink in her delicate beauty. ‘I must confess, lass, that I would have taken you as my bride, even if you had been shamed,’ he said, his throat thick with longing.
She gasped. ‘Well, I was not.’
‘Good. ‘Tis done, and we need not speak of it again. We are wed now, and I am happy, and we must put all that strife behind us.’ Callum put down his cup. ‘But this I must say so that I can be sure. You turned me down once, Tara, so I have to ask. Will you do your duty by me, lass?’
Her doe-eyes widened. ‘I…I will, but I don’t know what that is.’
‘Do you know anything of what happens between a man and a woman abed?’ he said, tearing off his jacket and loosening his kerchief.
‘No,’ she squeaked.
‘Well, do not fash. I will teach you everything you need to know, and I will be gentle, I swear. You have nothing to fear from me.’ He unwound his kilt and tugged off his boots and stood before her in his shirt feeling as though he was burning up with desire.
Tara tucked a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear - a simple, nervous gesture that mesmerised him.
‘Come here to me,’ he growled.
Tara stood slowly and smoothed down her skirt, and with her head bowed, she walked over to him. Callum took hold of her around her slender waist, relishing the warmth of her skin through the fabric.
She seemed to find his chest fascinating, so he lifted her chin to gaze into her soft brown eyes. Tara’s lips parted slightly, which was all the invitation Callum needed. He bent his head and joined his mouth to hers. The kiss was sublime – a heady mixture of triumph, possession, tenderness and lust coursing through his veins. As he claimed Tara’s mouth, his desire became a savage, raging beast, making his heart ache and his loins pulse. She clung to him, fisting her hands in his shirt, and gave a little moan. Callum could hold back no longer, so he spun her around and began tearing out her stays with clumsy, rushed fingers.
‘Have a care. You will tear it,’ she said over her shoulder.
‘No matter. I will buy you another, as many as you want.’ He kissed her neck, breathing in the womanly scent. ‘Anything you want of me, you just need to ask because I want you with all my heart, Tara. If you give yourself to me this night, no one can ever take you away. I want to be the first man who has you and the last.’
Tara was silent as he plucked at her ties, and soon, her stays and wide skirts fell to the floor. Callum took her face in his hands again and plundered her mouth, so soft, willing and open to him. When he slipped Tara’s shift over her shoulders, she tried to cover herself.
‘I am cold,’ she gasped.
‘Not for long,’ he said, gently uncrossing her arms. The sight of her breasts almost unmanned him, for they were even more perfect than he had dreamed – high, pert handfuls of creamy flesh, round and smooth. His cock swelled and tightened as he reached out a hand and cupped one. There was a slight intake of breath from Tara, but she did not stop him. Callum slid his thumb over one rosy nipple. A surge of lust ripped through his loins as it stiffened to a peak under his thumb, and he became hopelessly lost to lust.
Tara let Callum lead her to the bed as if in a dream. She tried not to cry out when her legs bumped against it, and he heaved her up and onto the furs. His weight came down hard as he slid her shift up her legs, his hand rough and warm on her exposed skin. Callum’s mouth moved lower, along her neck and down her chest and, shockingly, onto her breast. He groaned as he suckled one nipple and then the other.
‘Perfect,’ he gasped, his breath hot on her dimpled, sensitive flesh.
He was not like before – tentative, patient and slow. Now that he owned her, Callum was forceful, hurried, not asking but taking. Tara lay under his weight like a statue, not knowing what else to do, hoping it would be over soon. When he was kissing her, she liked it. Perhaps the rest of it would be pleasurable too.
She stared at the shadows from the fire licking the ceiling and tried to take her mind away. But Callum’s weight, his manly smell, and what he was about to do, overcame her. His kiss was pleasant, his hands warm and eager until they strayed between her legs and gently spread them apart. From then on, he slowed down, and his touch became feather light and gentle.
Callum slid his fingers up between her legs, and a flutter of sensation ran through Tara’s belly, making her cry out. It seemed to encourage Callum, for he did it again and again, with teasing slowness. A pulse of pleasure ripped through her detachment, and his tongue slipped into her mouth, drowning Tara’s cries as something compelled her to press herself against his hand.
Callum murmured in her ear. Some of his words washed away in the sensation between her legs, but others were stirring in their intensity.
‘Lass, you are such a small, fragile thing, and yet you can make my heart pound out of my chest with just a look and stamp on it with one harsh word.’
‘I fear I must forever be your slave, Tara, now and always.’
Callum kissed her again in a hard, hungry rush and said, ‘Open your eyes and look at me.’