The MacNaughton Bride (10 page)

Kell
stopped when he heard her crying in earnest, not wanting to beat her, but
knowing that the mournful sobs were the indication of true repentance.
 
He laid both of his palms over her
heated flesh, seeing the imprint of his individual fingers on that soft, fair
flesh.
 
For a moment, he indulged
in a flash of regret that he had a hard time shaking.
 
It was their wedding night.
 
He didn’t want to hurt her – he wanted to pleasure her
beyond bearing.
 
He wanted her to
break apart uncontrollably in his arms, and welcome him into her body despite
the small pain she would know by then that it would cause her.
 
He wanted to be a part of her, and make
her a part of him – to begin to forge a bond that, if they were lucky,
might even result in the same kind of feeling for each other that his parents
had – however unusual that was between arranged couples.

Keeping her close to him,
whether she wanted to be or not, and at this point he had no doubt that she
would have preferred that his hand fall off and he melt into a puddle at his
feet,
Kell
brought the both of them to the head of
the bed.
 
He was careful to assure
that her well seared bottom didn’t come in contact with anything – even
the softness of the duvet cover.
 
She wasn’t really struggling to get away – which surprised him
considering all the kicking and wiggling she did while he was spanking her –
but wasn’t acknowledging what he was doing, either.
 
She was just limp in his arms, as if reacting was too much
of an effort.

She was so small in his
arms –
Kell
didn’t think he’d ever get over the
size of her.
 
Even after such a
punishment, the sight of her frail looking, pale limbs and soft body against
his tanned strength amazed him.
 
He’d never been with a female who more closely resembled a wood sprite
than a woman.
 
He would have to be
extra careful – keep it foremost in his mind that he could easily hurt
her without meaning to just by means of his size . . . in more places than one.

He drew a deep breath.
 
Despite his rampantly hard interest, he
was going to take it slow.
 
He just
had to keep repeating that to himself, along with snippets of the Shakespeare
he’d been forced to memorize and various stanzas from the Magna
Carta
, in hopes of keeping his desire somewhat in
check.
 
Kell
brought his hand to her cheek and she flinched, a look of fear in his eyes that
he hoped to never see again.
 
“No,
oh, no, sweetie.
 
Don’t cringe from
me.
 
Beyond the occasional spanking
your behavior might earn you, I will never, ever hit you.”
 
He caught her chin and forced her to
look into his eyes – to see the truth of his words.
 
“Never, ever,” he repeated firmly,
hoping his convictions rang true with her, although he recognized that it must
be a hard concept to accept when one’s bottom was still burning like hellfire.

Aislinn
blinked slowly, mortified when that produced even more tears.
 
Her rear hurt like nothing she’d ever
felt before, and it made her want to cling to him, which was ridiculous since
he was the source of her pain.
 
His
voice was hypnotic, slow and rhythmic and deep, and full of conviction.

Somehow, against her better
judgment, she began to believe him.
 
The same huge, callused paw that had stung her bottom mercilessly now
cupped her cheek with an infinite gentleness.
 
His face inched slowly towards hers, until his lips were
just sitting atop hers, not demanding, not slanting and trying to gain access,
just lying unthreateningly against hers, occasionally depositing a butterfly
kiss at the corner of her mouth.

That hand began to move
over her face, as if he was trying to memorize her features with his
fingertips, and it was the
tenderest
touch she’d ever
felt from a man.
 
As if she worried
it might break the spell,
Aislinn
kept her eyes shut,
feeling those exploring calluses as well as the heat from his nearness
 
working slowly to dispel the heat in
her backside.
 

Those lightly nibbling lips
planted tiny, soft kisses everywhere – her eyelids and lashes, the spot
where ear meets neck, the tip of her chin and the side of her nose.
 
Kell
could
feel her relaxing, and she was no longer shrinking away from him.
 
He hated that.
 
He wasn’t a brute – he was just a
man who expected to be in control of his marriage – and his wife.
 
There were far too many much more
pleasant things to do with his wife, and he preferred to concentrate on those.

Carefully, experimentally,
he pressed his entire body against her, tilting her backwards and listening for
any sounds of distress he may have caused.
 
Aislinn
mewled a little when her
still naked bottom touched the thick, fluffy duvet for the first time, but by
then his mouth had found hers, settling over it just the slightest bit more
firmly, making it more of a kiss and less of an accidental meeting.

Aislinn
arched a bit to hold her curves above the bed, bumping her bare lower half
against the rough, woolen pole he apparently kept in his bed.
 
She heard
Kell
groan slightly, then more loudly as she withdrew and settled herself gingerly
onto the bed.
 
Surprised and
concerned,
Aislinn
asked in a tentative voice she
didn’t recognize, “Did I do something wrong?”
                 
“No,”
the word came out fiercely, like a guttural shot from his lips.
 
He thought he was going to disgrace
himself and explode all over the inside of his kilt.
 
Kell
spent a long moment trying to
get a hold of himself, and the outcome was not at all certain until he opened
his eyes and looked down at her.
 
She looked worried, as if she thought she had hurt him.
 
Her innocence charmed him and dampened
his ardor like nothing else could have.
 
Clearing his throat, he threaded his thick fingers through her
hair.
 
“You didn’t do anything
wrong, lass.
 
Do you believe me?”

Aislinn
nodded, still curious.
 
“Do you
usually wear a knife to bed?”

Kell
raised his eyebrow at her, until he realized what she thought was a knife and
grinned broadly.
 
“That’s no knife,
lass.”
 
She opened her mouth to ask
another question, but he put his finger over her lips.
 
“You’ll find out about it later, I
promise.”

He had never taken such
time with a woman in his life.
 
He
explored every inch of her, even those inches that made her blush so furiously
he thought she was going to explode.
 
When he divested her of the rest of her clothes, she made the usual
maidenly attempt to cover herself, but
Kell
kissed
away the hands that shielded her breasts from him.
 
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he
whispered, and it was the bone deep truth.
 
For someone so tiny, she was perfectly endowed – just
the slightest touch over generously in the best areas.
 
Her breasts were firm and wonderfully
round, their dusky tips hardened as he watched, as if they were seeking his
attention, and he was only too happy to provide it.

When he drew a virgin
nipple into his mouth,
Aislinn
thought she would die
from the pure pleasure of it.
 
He
tugged insistently, licking around and over the tip within his mouth, letting
her first gasp of pleasure flood over him like molten lava for the barest of
seconds.
 

Aislinn
didn’t know what to do with the feelings he was conjuring effortlessly within
her body – she was again out of control, being touched and fondled by him
in a shamefully sinful way that, granted, was much more pleasant than being
spanked . . . but the pleasure!
 
It
was as if every inch of her skin was alive and aware for the first time in her
life – and certain inches of her were much more alive than she was sure
they were ever intended to be!
  
The area between her legs – the one that no nice woman, no decent
woman ever even admit to herself that she owned – was throbbing and
aching in a distractingly pleasant way that made her want more – made her
want him to touch her down there, or let her rub against him, and various other
truly scandalous things that almost made her question her sanity.
 

Why, she couldn’t even
rouse herself to stop him from suckling at her as eagerly as a newborn,
flicking the tip of that broad flat tongue incessantly over her nipple until
she arched unknowingly, inviting him to take more of her into his mouth –
practically demanding it.

Kell
was counting himself a lucky man more times over than he could count –
she was responding to him.
 
She
might not really know it, and could even be fighting against it within herself,
but her body was encouraging him with her tiny whimpers and the way she pressed
herself to him, offering herself to him like a virginal sacrifice.

Emboldened by her response,
Kell
let his hand slide down her tummy, stopping just
above that thatch covered mound to reach up and capture her lips with his as he
slid one finger between her moist lips.

Aislinn
had had no idea what he was going to do, but she certainly didn’t expect
that!
 
With one monumental effort,
she threw herself away from him, across the vast expanse of the bed, scrambling
off it to face him, hunched, poised to defend herself despite her nudity.

Kell
could still taste their kiss on his lips as he watched her watch him
warily.
 
He’d been too involved,
had forgotten how skittish she was likely to be about some things.
 
He sighed heavily, his own aching flesh
throbbing between his legs, actually jerking and seeking the warmth his finger
had barely experienced.

“Don’t you ever touch me
like that again!”
Aislinn
hissed at him as she felt
about the bed for her chemise.

Without a second thought,
Kell
grabbed the cloth and threw it over his side of the
bed, his eyes never leaving hers.
 
“You are my wife.
 
I will
touch you where and when I please, and you’d best get used to that fact.”

Aislinn
didn’t have a response.
 
She hated
the fact that she had no control over her life any more.
 
That she, in essence, belonged to him,
that she owned nothing but that which he allowed her to have.
 
So she remained silent, still tense and
ready for him to follow after her and drag her back into his depraved arms.

Instead, he seemed to
settle in, pulling up the covers and arranging himself as if he was going to go
to sleep.
 
Kell
sighed again.
 
He didn’t want to
take her when she was afraid.
 
He
knew that if she was tense, his invasion would hurt her just that much
more.
 
There had to be a better
way.
 

They stayed that way
– in a stalemate, neither giving an inch – for a long while, until
Kell
noticed that she was beginning to shiver.
 
He folded back the sheets and duvet on
her side in invitation, but there was no such tentativeness in his tone.
 
“Come to bed,
Aislinn
.”

She made absolutely no move
to obey him.

“Do you need to have your
bottom warmed again to remind you to obey me, lassie?”
 
He didn’t rush her.
 
If she got another spanking, it would
be because she made a conscious choice to ignore his order, and he was going to
give her every opportunity to make the right decision.
 
He didn’t want to have to take her over
his lap again, although he would if he had to.

He could see the thoughts
running around in her head, and nudged her just a little more.
 
“Apparently I went too easy on you if
it’s taking you this long to decide whether or not you want to avoid another
trip over my knee,
Aislinn
.”

That poor lower lip was
going to be ragged and bloody by the time she finished with it.
 
He was just about to reach across the
bed and pull her over his lap when she slid into bed, barely clinging to her
side, a whisper away from falling off, clutching the sheet to her as if it
would save her from his evil attentions.