The Handfasting (23 page)

Impatiently,
he pushed her bodice low, laved her body with one long stroke from navel to
neck, then suckled his way back.

Maggie
arched, met the grinding rhythm of his hardness, starving for more because no
matter how much he touched, he suckled, no matter how close they were, it still
wasn't enough.

Not
nearly enough.

He
moved aside, and she tried to follow, but he stopped her. With one hand, he
held her hip in place, nudged her skirts with his knee. His mouth at her
breast, trailed away, up to her neck, her ear, her mouth. All the while, ever
so slowly, his fingers slid across her belly, down her thigh, back up to . . .

"Och,
no," she moaned, knowing she would die with want.

"Och,
yes," he chuckled, deep and breathless. "I have to have you, Maggie. I'll
die of the pain, if you don't let me have you."

She
felt him slide his hand between her legs, tried to pull away, but he was too
persistent and she could not think. He played magic against her damp flesh. She
squirmed, rose for more.

When
would the torment ease? She whimpered, pulled back sharply, twisted her body
away from the sensation.

"Stop!"

He
did, immediately, his breath heavy with the exertion of it. "Please
Maggie, don't make me stop. Not now. Please, it's so right, so very, very
right."

Her
grip on his arm was bruising, she couldn't help herself. "It's too much,
Bold, I can't take more of this."

He
lowered his forehead to hers. "You've only had a taste, Maggie."

She
tried to roll away, to curl into a ball, and moaned when he curled around her,
pushed his hardness against the crevice of her bottom, his body her prison.

"No."
she cried and tried to explain. "It's like a feast, only the more you eat,
the hungrier you get. I can't stand anymore."

"I
can make it better, lass.” He stroked her hair away from her face, gently ran a
hand over her breasts, barely brushing the tips of them, and smiled as her back
arched into his touch.

It
wasn't fair.

"Maggie,
I promise, in the last round, you will feel complete.” He was panting, trying
to slow it, as he urged her face around. "We will feel complete. Whole. At
peace with our bodies, at long last.” He kissed her, slow, languorous, his
tongue in her mouth. "We can stop the painful throbbing here," He
cupped her damp lips, her mound and squeezed. He'd awakened dormant desires
that raged to be fed; all of it new, tantalizing and insistent.

"Please.”
Dazed, she didn't know if she was asking him to continue or stop.

"I
can make it all come together, Maggie. That's when we explode with pleasure,
fly to heaven and back. That's when you know what it means to be a woman."

"I
don't know, Bold.” She nipped at his shoulder, unable to stop herself.

"Aye,
you do, you just don't want to."

"I've
never felt like this."

"No,
you saved it for me."

She
gulped, her hands gripped fiercely on his arms. She was beginning to think
she'd gone too far to turn back.

"If
we stop now?” She didn't even know what she was asking, but he seemed to
understand.

"No,
Maggie, that only makes the wanting worse."

Eyes
widened against the dim light of the barn. "It couldna' be worse!"

"Aye.
Why do you think you melted so quick? From the morning, you were still ready
from the morning. And next time . . ."

"No."
she stopped him. "If there's an answer to the torment, answer it,
Talorc."

He
didn't move.

The
man was an oaf!  She finally makes her decision and he just holds himself above
her, still, watchful. "Now, Bold," she pushed at his shoulders.

He
reached down and stroked her, in that spot between her legs that only made it
worse. A shiver of blissful agony coursed through her. She couldn't stand any
more.

Desperate,
she cried, "Do it then, Bold. Make me a woman. Now."

"Now?"

She
shook him. "Now!"

"You'll
be my wife?"

"I'll
give you my body."

He
sucked in air. "With my body, I thee cherish," he improvised the
Scots marriage vows.

Suddenly,
her breath hitched, came far too fast, as she realized she may be asking for
more than she meant to. She wasn’t ready, had plans before that commitment was
made.

"Just
for now, Bold. You can have what you want, but just for now." And what she
wanted. She was in a panic, hungry, yet uncertain, afraid she would say yea,
when she should say nay.

He
shucked off his shirt before she could think. Not that she could think, as he
eased her skirts higher. Sense told her to be appalled. She ignored that,
raised her hips to help him move her skirt up to her waist, revealing the heart
of her to his view. It excited and frightened all in one.

He
shifted his plaid. She stared at the tall proud length of him, reached out to
stoke it.

"You'll
never fit." Forlorn, that's what she felt. Loss before she had even had.

Again,
she felt his weight pressed against her, his lips, his hands, stealing all
sense from her.

She
didn't know what she expected when the blunt tip of him pressed at the base of
her. Instinct screamed that was exactly what she needed. Her eyes rolled and
she moaned.

He
slid himself along the portal of her passage.

"Forever,
Maggie. This is forever, and you can have it any time you like. But if it's just
for now," he pulled away, "then it's not for you."

She
angled her hips, urgent to keep the contact. "Bold, don't you dare
stop."

"Forever."

She
lay with legs spread around his, her skirts bunched at her hips, and her breasts,
bare as the day she was born. So close, his body pressed against hers, but he
shifted, rose up, bold in the way he looked at her. Hungry and savage. It
fueled her desire.

He
no longer held all the power. Not by the sight of him, he didn't. His manhood
stood, strong and straight and ready to pierce her. She should be quivering
with terror, not anticipation. Contrary as ever.

She
had to think, licked her lips, fought for reason. "I'm not a sweet thing
who will do your bidding."

His
smile tilted with amusement. "I like my apples tart."

"You
won't be the only Bold one between us."

"Prove
it."

She
reached down, took him in her hand, and felt it leap with reaction. She pulled
away.

"Don't
give up so easy, lass.” He encouraged her to wrap her fingers and slide them
along his length.

"You
like that, but what do I get?" she teased.

With
a devilish smirk, he pulled from her hold and slid down to nuzzle the back of
her knees. His suckling kisses rose higher.

"Oh
no." she tried to stop him.

"Oh
aye.” He challenged, as his mouth covered her bud of pleasure. She felt his
fingers slide inside of her and she screamed with the incredible pulsing that
racked through her over and over and over. . . his mouth, all musky and wet,
covered her scream and again, the broad tip of him pushed at her.

She
had no power left, just a limp shell of a body.

"Forever,
Maggie."

"You'll
leave me.” Of course he would, at the best of times and the worst of times.

"Never,
lass, never will I leave you."

"You'll
go off to battle and leave me.” She would always be second to the fight.

"I'll
always be with you, in your heart, by your side, in your thoughts."

"You
won't be there to give me this."

He
chuckled. "You'll be satisfied aplenty. Too much. You'll be pushing me off
of you."

"Never!"
she was truly shocked, to think she'd say no to this.

His
arms closed about her, pulled her tight. Words whispered through her hair, into
her ear. "Be mine forever, Maggie. Be mine, say yes, let me fill
you."

"You’re
a big man, Bold."

"You're
a grand lass, Maggie, mine. Let me fill you."

"You
won't leave."

"I’ll
be yours forever."

"I'll
slay you if you leave."

"I
will never desert you, lass, I promise to be a part of you, just let me be a
part of you. As one, Maggie, we will be as one."

She
opened her eyes fully, looked into his. He was so earnest, true. He had
promised. She cupped his head, her hands on either side of his face.

"You
stay with me, be a husband at my side, then you have all of me, God save
you." And she pulled him down to kiss her, a deep, urgent kiss, full of
all the hunger that had been building.

Slowly,
he eased his length inside of her. Maggie rotated her hips, knowing there was
more of him, wanting it but terrified. It didn't hurt, which surprised her, he
was so large, filled her so full, stretched her so tight. She wiggled, to urge
him further, but he stopped, held poised on the brink of something, but she
didn't know what it was.

"Hang
on, lassie." His breath came in deep draughts. "Hang on tight.” He
pulled out, then slammed back into the core of her.

She
bucked, once, he rode it, and stilled.

"You
hurt me, Bold."

"Aye,
just this once, never again."

"I
think you lie to me, Bold."

"No,
Maggie, mine, I wouldn't lie, but I can't . . ." he pressed into her, even
deeper. "Stop," he pulled out only to push again, urgently,
"moving," and, he did move, hard, fast, beyond his control, until he
shuddered above her, shouting her name.

With
a groan, he collapsed on top of her. "Oh, Maggie, I couldna' stop myself. You
have that much power over me."

She
was still restless, shifted her breasts beneath him, to feel her nipples tugged
by the hair of his chest.

"Oh
lassie," it was a sigh. He reached between them, to pluck at that
sensitive bud he had found earlier.

"Oh,
oh, oh . . . " her back arched like a bow, he suckled a nipple, and
continued to play. She bucked again, but not in pain, and again. He was still
hard inside of her. "Och, Talorc," she screamed.

"That's
it, my sweet.” He barely had breath enough to whisper, but she was beyond
hearing. She was soaring into heaven, flying with the clouds, floating back to
earth.

Bliss,
contentment, it was everything and more than Talorc had promised. Even the pain
from the breach of her maidenhead, was no more than an edge of ecstasy.

She
stroked his hair, wet with the effort they'd shared. He'd not lied. The hunger
was gone. Profoundly gone. He had pushed, coerced, but he was right. They had
joined and were one, would share forever more.

Talorc
shifted to his side, pulled Maggie along, to lie belly to belly, chest to
chest, legs entwined.

Maggie
smiled at the irony of it. "You know, we have Seonaid to thank for
this."

"Seonaid?
She has nothing to do with us."

"She's
the reason I came back in the barn."

Talorc
chuckled. "I'll have to be thanking her, then."

"You'll
not be talking to her." Maggie punched his shoulder.

"She's
in the clan, Maggie, I'll be having to speak to her. But you can stand by my
side when I do, to make certain I'm safe.”

"Safe?"
she shuddered.

"Maggie,"
Talorc braced himself on one arm to better look at her.

"Do
you think she's a danger?"

He
leaned over her. "Not to us, Maggie. You’re the woman for me."

"No,
not that way," she brushed his words aside. "It's just that . . .
when you said that about safe, it ran down my spine."

"We're
not as secure as we were, here at Glen Toric. But you're not to worry."

"You
have a traitor."

"Aye.
That's the only explanation for Micheil. No one outside the clan should have
known where he was, or what he does."

"Seonaid?"

"No."
he shook his head, as if he had already thought of it and discarded the notion.
"She may not like your being here, but she'd not turn traitor. She's as
much a part of this clan as I am. Her da was a great warrior, my father's
closest man. She learned from her father's side."

"Then
who?"

"I
don't know, Maggie. But now, maybe, I can finally think of something other than
your backside!” He gave it a smack.

"You
brutish troll!" she rolled him over, braced herself on his shoulders.

The
door rattled, a fist pounded on it. "Bold."

Maggie
sank down, her head on his shoulder. "Tell them to go away."