Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic) (15 page)

BOOK: Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic)
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He cracked an eye open and waited until it adjusted to the sunlight streaming into the room. Turning his head, he looked down at the woman who was cradled against his side. She slept on, in one of his tunics, totally oblivious to his scrutiny.

Her breath feathered across his chest, and her fingers tangled in the curls near his sex while her thigh draped fluidly across his own. Despite the drumming pain in his head and his queasy stomach, his body responded to her nearness.

He groaned as his growing cock became trapped between her hand and her leg. The tunic she wore had ridden up and the entire lower half of her body was pressed against his hip.

Robbie sighed with disappointment. The whisky had cheated them out of their wedding night, something he had been looking forward to since he married her days ago.

He continued to gaze at his wife. Her eyelashes fanned across her delicate cheekbones and her porcelain skin was flushed from sleep and warmth. The only things needed to complete the picture would be to have her naked and her lips slightly swollen from his attention.

As if she could feel his gaze on her, Jocelyn’s eyes fluttered open, and she stretched.

He wasn’t sure whether to groan with displeasure or weep with delight when her hand moved away from his cock, even as she pressed her pussy more firmly against his hip. He settled for a sound somewhere in between with a soft growl. She tilted her head and looked up at him.

Jocelyn’s spring green eyes were heavy lidded when they blinked at him sleepily. “Good morning,” she said in that husky voice he loved so much.

The pain in his head and gut was forgotten at the realization she was still pressed against him. All the blood in his body suddenly pooled in his groin, his erection kicking under the furs.

Instead of answering, he grunted and shifted his hips a little, trying to conceal his rapidly growing arousal from her. “Your brothers warned me you would be in a foul mood,” she teased, still snuggled close to him.

“I am not in a foul mood,” he said roughly, trying desperately to control his raging desire for her.

“Then what is wrong?” she asked, absently caressing his stomach as she looked at him with confusion.

He sucked in his breath as her slender fingers sent lightning bolts of sensation straight to his already swollen sex. “Lord, woman!” he ground out. “You are dressed in nothing but my tunic, and you are plastered against me.” He wanted to cringe when he heard the phrase leave his lips. He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a bad thing, he had just been surprised that she had no idea of the effect she had on him.

She jerked as if he’d struck her, hurt flashing in her eyes before they flashed hotly with anger. “I am sorry you find me so repulsive,” she said, jumping up and yanking the tunic back around her knees. “I will return the tunic as soon as I am decent.”

Robbie winced at the pain in his head as he leapt off the bed and grabbed for her. He gripped her arm to physically stop her from leaving the room. She struggled wildly, twisting one way then the other in a bid to get free. “Nay, Jocelyn. Do not be like that,” he said, nearly pleading with her. “I just meant I find you very appealing,” he finished lamely.

He wasn’t sure what else to say to her, what else he could do to make the situation better. He had, after all, gotten drunk on their wedding night.

Perhaps he really was nothing more than the savage that his first wife, Eileen, had accused him of being.

Jocelyn slowed her furious movements but didn’t turn to face him. “And this puts you in a foul mood?” she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm and laced with just a hint of confusion and hurt.

“No, imp,” he said in a low voice. “It makes me want you the way a man wants a woman.” He sighed and trailed his hand down her arm, feeling her warm skin under the linen sleeve. “I was not sure how you would react to any of my advances since I made such a mess on our wedding night. You would be well within your rights to refuse me after how I acted. Heaven knows I would deny myself.”

Jocelyn softened a little, leaning slightly into him as she let his hands continue their caress. “Yes, you certainly did make a mess,” she said, teasing him gently.

Encouraged, Robbie leaned down to drop soft kisses along her neck. “Jocelyn, imp, look at me,” he requested, turning her so she faced him. He cupped her chin and guided her eyes to his, hating himself when he saw the pained confusion still present in her expression. “Loving, I am sorry,” he whispered, stooping to rest his head against hers. “I should have paid more attention to how much I was drinking.”

She stiffened against him and pulled away. “You had other things on your mind,” she said accusingly.

“Aye, I did,” he agreed slowly. He contemplated the wisdom of telling her the truth of his first marriage. On the one hand, he dreaded the humiliation he would suffer when he admitted the truth about Eileen. On the other, the idea of her thinking she was married to a murderer positively sickened him.

Taking a deep breath, he ignored the churning of his stomach. “You know I was married before…” He trailed off, searching for the words to finish what he’d started to say.

He searched her face for signs of horror or terror and found nothing but a blank slate. “She was in love with another and could not stomach the idea of waking up next to my scarred face for the rest of her life. I walked in to complete the bedding ceremony, and we found her hanging from the ceiling. She killed herself rather than stay married to me.”

Robbie waited with baited breath, hoping beyond hope she would somehow reach the conclusion he was not responsible for Eileen’s death. He watched as the confusion on her face doubled, turned to disbelief, then to relief.

“Who knows this?” she whispered.

“Just my brothers, my father, Colin, and Eileen’s father.”

She looked at him strangely. “Why do you allow everyone to believe you…believe what they believe?” she asked awkwardly.

He dropped his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “My pride was already battered, loving. I really did not want to humiliate myself further by admitting to everyone that Eileen would rather damn her soul for eternity than stay my wife.” His face hardened with his next sentence. “Besides, these are my people. They should never have believed the rumors about me. Why should I bother to correct them when they are so ready to believe I am a murdering madman?”

Jocelyn sighed and moved closer to him, resting her head on his chest. “I thought you drank so much because you were unhappy with our marriage. I am not exactly the ideal wife.”

He allowed himself a small grin and relaxed enough to wrap his arms around her waist. “Oh, I think we can get along just fine,” he said, nipping at her ear gently.

She threw her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his throat. The impact of the simple action rocked him to his very core, and he stumbled backward toward the bed.

Her scent teased him, driving his need for her higher than ever before. He pulled her back with him and tumbled them both onto the bed. “Can you forgive me for ruining our wedding night?” he whispered.

She giggled and pointed to the bed linens. “You did not ruin anything,” she said conspiratorially.

Glancing over to where she indicated, Robbie was alarmed to see the large amount of her virginal blood on linens. “But I…but…what is this?” he asked, frantically running his hands over her in an attempt to find any injuries.

Sweet Jesus, he had taken her innocence and had evidently hurt her in the process. The amount of blood on the bed deeply concerned him. “I am so sorry, imp. Let me call for a midwife.”

Jocelyn grabbed his arm when he lifted himself off the bed to call for help. “Robbie. Robbie!” she said, cupping his chin and forcing him to look her in the face. “I am fine. Listen to me!” she insisted when he kept trying to get up. “You did not hurt me. Will cut his hand to save us from the gossip that would fly when the linens were brought down. He was a little overenthusiastic.”

Robbie relaxed and collapsed against her. “That sly old dog,” Robbie said, smiling into her neck. He was relieved that she found their situation amusing. Perhaps this marriage had a chance after all.

“Aye, but he is younger than you,” she said, giggling again as he started to rub his chin against the sensitive flesh of her neck.

“Mmmm.” He let his mouth wander up her neck to her lips. “Let us talk of things other than my brother,” he said against her mouth. He kissed her deeply, amazed at how eagerly she responded to him. He dipped his tongue into her mouth to dance with hers and groaned when her fingers tightened in his hair. “Or rather, let us not talk at all.”

“Oh, Robbie,” she sighed when he allowed her to come back up for air. “I never imagined a simple kiss could be like this.”

Robbie smiled at her innocence, knowing that inside the innocent little virgin a sleeping tigress waited. “It only gets better, imp,” he promised as he tugged the tunic over her head.

“God, you are beautiful,” he breathed reverently when her breasts were finally bared before him. Her nipples were already peaked, and they strained toward him. He rolled them gently between his fingers and thumbs and delighted in her shiver.

“Robbie,” She whimpered again, arching to meet his touch. The sound of his name falling from her lips inflamed him even more, and he sent his mouth down her throat and over her collarbone.

She began to squirm against him, pulling on his hair. He smiled, knowing what she wanted but was too innocent to ask for. He dipped his head and took one hard nipple into his mouth. She panted and began letting out tiny moans.

Before he could go any further, they heard a knock on the door. Groaning, he pulled the furs around her nude body, shielding her from whichever idiot brother was at the door. Wrapping a linen sheet around his waist as he moved to the door, he yanked it open to find Will.

With one look at his face, Will broke into a grin. “I see you are not too ill this morning,” he joked.

“No,” Robbie said shortly, looking at Will expectantly. What was the man thinking, coming to interrupt them the morning after their wedding night?

“It seems Jocelyn is good for your health, if not for your disposition,” Will continued, ignoring the angry look his brother sent his way. “How do you fare, Jocelyn?” he asked.

“I am well, Will,” she conceded, giggling at Robbie’s aggravated sigh.

“What do you want, William?” Robbie ground out with irritation.

“Your wedding linens. And, oh, yes, it seems that Alasdair MacKenna is ready to leave. He wants an audience with your wife if you can let her go for a few hours.”

Robbie had the sudden urge to throw something. “When does he want to leave?” he asked even as he reached for his kilt. He could not keep the man from saying good-bye to his daughter, even if it meant he had to wait until later to consummate their marriage.

“He is ready to go now. He just waits to see if you will allow him to say farewell,” Will answered.

“Very well,” Robbie said. “We will be down shortly.”

He shut the door in Will’s face and leaned his forehead against the hard wood. Taking a deep breath, he willed his heated body to cool. Somewhat in control once again, he turned around only to see Jocelyn standing right behind him, naked as the day she was born.

His mouth fell open, and he very nearly fell to his knees at the sight. She smiled at him bewitchingly and held out the tunic he had just stripped off her. “Would you wear this one?” she asked him teasingly.

“Yes,” he growled, taking the tunic from her small hand. He slipped it over his head and immediately regretted the decision. It was still warm from her skin and held her soft scent.

He felt his already huge cock grow even harder and took slow deep breaths to control his urge to toss her on the bed and have his way with her. It would be within his rights to ravage her, he supposed, but he wanted their first time to be special.

Robbie closed his eyes and pictured the most unarousing scene possible. Old Agnes, the alewife, beckoning him from her bed. It worked. His erection deflated by half.

He opened his eyes and was greeted to the sight of her still naked body. “Why are you still…not dressed?” he asked, unwilling to say the word naked lest he find himself joining her in that state.

“I need help with my gown?” She phrased it as a question, an impish little smile playing around her lips.

“Damn, lass. You will drive me to my end,” he groaned, pulling her against him and kissing her firmly. She opened her mouth and traced her tongue over the seam of his lips.

Gooseflesh rose on his arms, and he gripped her hips, his fingers flexing compulsively. He ground himself against her and slid one thigh between her legs.

She writhed against him, gasping into his mouth. He felt her core, hot and moist, against his skin and momentarily forgot why he had put his clothes back on until he heard Will shouting down the hall to Jamie.

“Fuck,” he swore, and wrenched his mouth away from hers. “We need to get you dressed.” She pouted as he set her away from him, and he touched her lips with his finger.

He turned and collected the dress he had dropped in the puddle the day before. It was slightly wrinkled, but it had dried nicely and was a virginal little thing. It covered her from her neck to her toes, and that was what he needed. He didn’t think he could get through the day with glimpses of her white flesh flashing him every other second.

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