Victoria Roberts: To Wed A Wicked Highlander

“Now, lass, if ye remember correctly, I did give ye a choice.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Some choice,” she said dryly. “Kiss ye or ye’d call your father’s men. What kind of choice was that?”

“When ye and your brother decided to encroach on our lands, ye gave me verra little choice. And besides, it doesnae matter. Ye are now my wife, Lady MacDonell.”

His expression stilled and grew serious.

Licking her lips nervously, Sybella turned her head promptly away from him and remained still.

Alex moved even closer until he left her no room at all.

Sybella swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. Alexander’s fingers took her arm with gentle authority, and he turned her to face him. Briefly closing her eyes, she felt his hand brush the hair back from her neck. His hand remained on her shoulder for a moment too long.

She noticed he was watching her intently, his nearness overwhelming. At the base of her throat, a pulse beat and swelled as though her heart had risen from its usual place.

He lowered his head, and his kiss was surprisingly gentle. The touch of his lips was a delicious sensation. He planted a tantalizing kiss in the hollow of her neck, and she felt her knees weaken.

His lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time. He forced open her mouth with his thrusting tongue and she savored every moment. Her thoughts spun, her emotions whirled and skidded, and her body arched toward him instinctively.

She was shocked at the impact of his gentle grip. Her response to him was so powerful that for a long moment, she felt as if she were floating.

He slowly pulled back, and something unexplainable passed between them. She had to admit that she was strangely flattered by his interest.

“Wife, ’tis still too early to seek our marriage bed. We must return to the celebration.” His voice was low and alluring.

An unwelcome blush crept onto Sybella’s cheeks as she tried to swallow the lump that lingered in her throat. She was humiliatingly conscious of her husband’s scrutiny. She was perfectly aware that she needed to gain his trust, but surely Alexander must think his new wife some type of harlot for kissing him so wantonly in broad daylight.

She was an idiot.

Sybella donned her nightrail and sat in the chair in her bedchamber. Should she be sitting? Maybe she should be standing. She rose and started to pace. Perhaps she should be still. She folded her hands together and then crossed her arms over her chest. What was she supposed to be doing? She felt like a daft fool. When Alexander did not walk through the adjoining door, she sat down on the bed. She sure wasn’t going to appear as though she was waiting for the man to grace her with his presence.

When her husband finally walked through the door, he was dressed in his tunic and kilt. His warm eyes were full of something she could not quite identify, and although what he expected was not clear, there was something captivating in his look. Since Alexander still wore his clothes, maybe he had decided not to consummate the marriage this eve. If that was true, Sybella felt completely underdressed for the occasion.

He placed a tankard down on the bedside table. “Wife.”

“Alexander.”

His gaze lowered, as did his voice. “Ye have yet to call me husband or Alex.”

“We barely know one another,” she said quietly.

“Now that simply isnae true. We have known each other since the day at the waterfall.” His tone was laced with subtle amusement.

Her mouth dropped open. “The waterfall ? We hardly spoke.”

He gave her a roguish grin and Sybella cast her eyes downward. All too quickly, she had run out of diversions. How much longer could she postpone the inevitable? She tried to force her confused emotions into order and couldn’t stand the unwelcome tension. Praise the saints. There was no sense worrying about what could not be changed. One way or another, after tonight, she would no longer be an innocent woman.

She took a deep breath and consciously masked her inner turmoil with deceptive calmness. But when the silence began to grate on her nerves, she decided to address the subject head on.

“Is there something we need to do first?” She waved her hand in a nervous gesture.

Alexander was momentarily speechless in his surprise. “I was going to speak with ye and offer ye a wee bit of ale, but if ye wish to have me in your bed…” When his eyes darkened with an unreadable emotion, Sybella flopped back onto the bed and adjusted her pillow.

“I am nervous enough. This prolonged torture doesnae benefit anyone. Can ye please do what ye need to do?” She bit her lip in a nervous gesture.

A gentle chuckle answered her as her husband stood perfectly still beside the bed. “Do what I need to do?” He dropped down beside her, facing her, while she continued to stare at the ceiling. Draping his arm over her waist, he shook his head. “Ye donna want any wooing words before we—”

“Why would ye need to give me wooing words when I am already your wife?” she asked dryly.

“Look at me.” When she turned her head, she saw a suggestion of annoyance in his eyes. “Ye are far too tense. Ye need to relax and calm yourself. This doesnae have to be unpleasant.”

“Speaks the man with the…” Sybella gestured toward her husband’s manhood and quickly added, “ cluigean. ” Hanging thing.

Her husband stared at her and then burst out laughing. When she started to grind her teeth, the amusement left his eyes. “Sybella, I only try to speak with ye to calm ye.”

She huffed. “Ye have been doing naught but speaking. I donna think your words will change the end result, unless I am mistaken.”

In one swift movement, he lowered his head and moved his mouth over hers. His kiss was surprisingly gentle. His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips and then explored her mouth. He shifted and kissed the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat as blood coursed through her veins.

She became instantly awake.

Her husband’s arms encircled her, one hand at the small of her back. She could feel his uneven breathing on her cheek as he held her close. The warmth of his arms was so male, so bracing. His mouth was warm and sweet on hers.

The mere touch of his hand sent a warming shiver through her, and she tingled from the contact. She felt transported on a soft and wispy cloud. Alexander’s demanding lips caressed her, and his slow, drugging kisses were driving her mad.

With his tongue, he ravished her mouth. He released her briefly, only enough to breathe, and then repeated his ritual again.

Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed into her eyes. He slid the nightrail off her shoulders and down her arms, as she lay bare beneath his sultry glance. He tugged off his tunic and hastily tossed it aside.

Sybella gasped as bare skin met bare skin and she felt her breasts crush against the hardness of his chest.

Her husband picked up a lock of her hair and caressed it gently. “Ye are so verra bonny.”

When he lightly kneaded her breasts with his rough fingers and teased her nipples into hard aching points, her mind was robbed of any coherent words. He lowered his head and kissed her taut nipples, rousing a melted sweetness within her . She found it difficult to remain still when he suckled the tips of her breasts.

There was a heated swelling between her legs, a moistness she did not understand.

When he slid his hand over her trembling stomach and then between her legs, she froze. He kissed her again and, with a few skillful strokes of his fingers, pushed back the shock of his personal touch. His finger thrust inside her, imitating the movement of his tongue in her mouth.