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F laherty was laughing when he kissed his wife.

God, she tasted of sass and honey. Deepening the kiss, he tasted her fully.

Lost in her flavor and the curves nestled against him, he felt his control start to slip.

He growled, yanked it back, and lifted his lips from hers. “Ye pack a powerful punch, lass.”

His lovely bride was having trouble catching her breath. Flaherty did not mind in the least.

“I’m thinking we could eat later.”

“Eat?”

He chuckled. “Did ye not notice the table set for two with the candles and flowers?”

Her mouth opened and a garbled sound emerged.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He did not want to let her go just yet.

“If ye’re that hungry…” He didn’t bother to finish, because the lass wasn’t looking at the food.

She was staring at his mouth. Thoughts of what he could not wait to teach his sweet bride fanned the fire already burning inside of him.

He clamped down on his libido, or else their joining would be over in a matter of minutes.

That was not what he had in mind for their first time making love.

He needed to be fully in control. There was no way he would let his overwhelming need to lay her on the bed and uncover the gift God placed in his hands take over.

Flaherty sucked in a deep breath and slowly set her on her feet. “Well?”

She blinked. “Well what?”

“Are ye?”

“Am I what?” The dazed look in her eyes had him tightening the hold on his control until he groaned.

“Hungry.”

Mary Kate stared at her feet. “Not especially.” She raised her gaze to meet his and admitted, “Nervous. Anxious and a bit frightened.”

“That’s a bit of a list, mo chroí . Ye have no need to fear me, lass. I’ll do me best to ease the way until ye body is ready to accept me.”

Her face turned a delightful shade of rosy pink. Better than pale and pasty . She laughed and immediately clapped a hand over her mouth.

Eyes wide with worry stared at him, leaving him to suspect the lass laughed when she was nervous. “Well now, as I have not said anything funny, I’m thinking ye tend to laugh when yer nerves get the better of ye.”

Mary Kate dropped her hand. “I have tried to break the habit, and have somewhat…but I have never been in a situation like this before.”

“I should hope not.”

Her blush deepened, and he almost felt sorry for her.

The lass was about to have her first lesson in love, and if he played his cards right, she would be mindless with desire by the time they sealed their vows.

He would soothe her tender feelings along the way, but ’twas time to put actions to his words.

“Then if I removed me frockcoat and waistcoat…” He took off his coat and shed his waistcoat, and sure enough, the lass covered her mouth again, but not before a snicker emerged.

Taking a chance that she would not turn from him in disgust when she saw he was riddled with scars from a lifetime of fighting—in particular from the last few years protecting the duke and his family—he removed his cravat and shirt.

She wasn’t laughing now. The lass was humming as her gaze dropped from his eyes, to his chin, to his chest. As it trailed across his abdomen, lingering at his waist, he could not resist asking, “See something ye like?”

Her eyes shot up to meet his. “Forgive me. I’ve never… Well, you see… The thing of it is…”

He chuckled. “Ye’ve never seen a man without a shirt before and are overwhelmed by the sight of me broad and manly chest?”

She nodded.

“Not even yer da, if he was working outside in the heat of the day?”

She cleared her throat. “No.”

“Haven’t ye wondered what I looked like beneath me coat?”

Mary Kate shook her head.

“It hasn’t escaped me notice that ye’ve measured the width of me shoulders and breadth of me chest with yer eyes, lass.”

She gulped, and he strove not to laugh. Lord the lass was a delight! “Never wondered what I looked like in me shirtsleeves and waistcoat?”

She bit her bottom lip, and he fought to keep his ironclad control firmly in place. “Ye have parts of me going hard as a rock when he bite yer lip like that, lass.”

She frowned. “Parts of you?”

He drew her against him, felt her tremble, and wondered how quickly he could convince her to remove her gown.

Her soft gasp had him repeating his vow to go slowly.

He wasn’t a rutting beast! The lass had been through a traumatic experience earlier, and then thrown off his horse.

She could have a cracked rib and not even know it.

His head battled against his body’s need. Slow down! Treat her as if she were made of fine bone china. “As ye aren’t hungry, why don’t ye let me help ye undress?”

“Now?”

“Aye, lass. Now.”

“Wouldn’t you rather wait until later?”

He frowned. “How much later?” She mumbled beneath her breath, and he snorted with laughter. “No. I do not want to wait until next week.”

Mary Kate glared at him. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Then ye should not have said it aloud.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready. I keep thinking of…”

When her voice trailed off, he knew that she was thinking of the bloody farrier’s abducting her. He needed to distract her to ease her worry. “Why don’t we compromise?”

“Yes, please!”

He slowly smiled. “I’ll remove yer gown—as it doesn’t seem fair that ye get to ogle me standing here in just me trousers, socks, and boots—and ye can leave yer chemise on. We’ll share a meal and have a glass or two of wine—or brandy if ye wish.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather have whisky.”

“Would ye now? I happen to have a flask in me waistcoat pocket.”

Mary Kate got a bit of her grit back and mimicked his accent. “Do ye now?”

He laughed and hugged her close to his heart. “Faith, I love ye, lass. In truth, I cannot wait to make ye mine, but I’ll go as slow as I’m able and tell ye when I’m about to burst with need so I don’t ruin the bed linens.”

Her eyes were wide as saucers. “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to shred the bed linens—”

He could not contain his laughter. When she smacked him in the shoulder, he swallowed the rest of it. “Ye have no idea what I’m talking about, do ye?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Ye’re a sassy bit of goods, Mary Kate Donovan.”

Her frown softened into a smile. “Mary Kate Flaherty .”

“Aye, bride of mine. I’m after making ye me wife, and need to ask, do ye know what happens in the marriage bed?”

“Of course.”

“But ye didn’t get me meaning when I said I’d ruin the bed linens.”

“Obviously.”

“Do ye know what a man’s seed is?”

Her face flamed. “Yes.”

“Do you know how it’s planted?”

This time she covered her face with her hands. “Yes!”

He fought not to smile as he gently removed her hands so he could see her expression. “Well, there’s more of it than ye might think, when a man’s blood is hot and his seed is ready to be planted.”

She groaned.

“As I was saying, if it’s ready to be planted and not in his wife’s warm, soft passage, what do ye think happens when it erupts out of his shaft?”

This time, Mary Kate ducked her head and moaned. “Could we please cease talking about this?”

It was exactly what he hoped for. “Aye. Why don’t we eat later?

And since ye already know the mechanics of the act, why don’t I show ye the how yer body will weep for mine?

Ye’ll feel ready to burst with need by the time I’ve caressed each and every bit of ye that is just waiting to learn me tender touch. ”

She licked her lips, and he held on to his control by a thread. “Let me help ye off with yer gown.” His voice sounded hoarse, but at least he was still able to speak.

His bride turned her back to him so he could undo her buttons.

That done, he turned her back around, needing to see the expression on her face when he slowly removed her gown.

He tossed the garment on the chair by the bed and turned back, but paused.

“Ah, lass, yer poor arms. Let me soothe the hurt he caused ye.” Gently, reverently, he kissed where rough hands had been wrapped around her upper arms, leaving dark bruises behind.

When she went pliant at his tender touch, he pulled her close and plundered her mouth with lips and tongue, mimicking how he planned to plunder her soft depths once he’d stretched her to the point where her body would welcome his with as little pain as possible.

They were both gasping for breath when he ended the kiss and lifted her into his arms and onto the bed.

He joined her on the bed, lying beside her.

She was trembling, but he knew just where to lightly touch to ease her worry.

Gazing at the bounty of the beauty he’d married, he rasped, “Trust me, lass.”

*

The depth of his voice reverberated through to her spine as his lips whispered kisses along her collarbone. She could not answer, couldn’t speak. A low moan wrapped around them, until she realized she was the one who moaned.

Seamus’s lips increased their pressure as he kissed his way back to the base of her throat. His tongue dipped into the hollow. “Ye taste of lilac and roses. May I taste ye elsewhere, lass?”

She had no idea where exactly elsewhere would encompass, but the sensations his lips, teeth, and tongue evoked had her moaning one moment and gasping the next.

His callused hands stroked from her shoulders to her wrists and back before slipping beneath her arms. He slid the tips of his fingers along her curves, nudging the fullness of her breasts.

She drew in a breath and held it while his hand tested the weight of one breast and then the other. The fabric of her chemise added to the sensation of his huge hands cupping her. Slowly, her eyes closed, as the heat from his hands warmed wherever he stroked.

“If ye need me to stop, ye need to say the word, lass.”

She couldn’t think, let alone speak. His feather-soft caresses opened a whole new world of sensation as her body responded to the magic of his touch.