Page 24 of The Laird’s Guardian Angel (Highland Lairds #3)

23

T hey were married the next morning, with members of several clans in attendance. When she thought she might get some pushback from her father, he only grinned, nodded, and gave them his wholehearted blessing.

There was much negotiation between the clan elders, but in the end, Calliope made the final choice. She told her father that he should keep Hugh as his heir. After all, he had been the one her father trained for the position, thinking that she'd passed on as a child.

It was only fair that Hugh be given what he'd earned, and she would take her place as Lady Roslin, mistress of Dunbais Castle and Alistair's wife.

The wedding ceremony was short and sweet, and the feast after was incredible. They'd danced over the swords until Calliope thought she might drop. Then she'd given Alistair a look and said, "I think I'd like to kiss you now." Alistair had swept her up in his arms and marched up the stairs of the keep to her bedchamber, where a fire had been lit. Two goblets of wine settled on a table with a platter of biscuits.

"Wine, love?" he asked.

Calliope shook her head. "I want you to kiss me and never stop."

"Never?" Alistair winked.

"Never," she grinned.

"When Lady Roslin issues an order, Baron Roslin must obey."

A teasing glint entered his beautiful eyes. Calliope loved seeing his playful side. Alistair was a man to be reckoned with on the battlefield. He was strong and powerful. Deadly.

And yet, when he touched her and kissed her, he did so with a combination of gentleness and passion that threw her off balance, making her soar. Everything about him made her heart swell with love.

"I order you to kiss me, husband."

"Och, and I hate to disappoint yet." He leaned forward, just a breath away, and whispered, "I'm going to kiss ye until your knees grow weak."

A heated flush swept from the top of her head down to where her knees were already quite weak.

"I await your attentions then," she teased back with a confidence she didn't quite feel, even as she grasped his arms to hold herself upright.

Alistair grinned wickedly. "With pleasure."

Before she could even contemplate a response, he licked her lower lip and tugged it with his teeth. Frissons of hot desire sparked through her core, pooling at her center. Saints, but she was barely standing, and he'd only just begun.

Perhaps, like she had on the front stairs of the castle when she'd asked him to marry her, if she took charge, she'd be more likely to keep her footing. There was no looking back now. Calliope captured Alistair's tongue between her teeth and sucked it into her mouth. Her husband growled a deep vibrating noise that sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through her.

If this was just a kiss, how was she supposed to survive the wedding night?

Stroking up her arms, Alistair gently massaged her shoulders, her back, the sides of her ribs—and then, with the lightest of touches, the undersides of her breasts.

Her nipples grew taut, and a wicked desire for him to touch them took hold. But

he didn't go near them, and she had no idea if her desire was right or wrong. Her body, however, seemed to know as she thrust her chest forward, seeking more of his sinful caress. But her husband was a tease, and instead of giving in to her silent request, he drove her crazy by stroking everywhere else on her upper body.

Oh, he was good at kissing and touching…very good. They'd barely gotten anywhere, and already she was melting. She was sure her heart was going to stop beating at any moment, so fast was her pulse.

Nay, she thought to herself, I'm in charge.

The only thing was, she had no idea what she was doing. But there was one thing she knew that was necessary between a man and his wife when they made love, and that was that they needed to be naked.

Calliope gently broke their kiss, taking a step away from Alistair, who eyed her with a look of awe and bemusement. His lips were red and wet from their kiss, and it made her whole body clench just to look at him.

She untied the braided belt at her waist without taking her eyes from his. Alistair's gaze followed her movements, and she watched the knob in his neck bob as he swallowed and let out a long, slow breath as if he were doing everything in his power to control himself in this moment.

That subtle move gave her all the confidence she needed to keep going.

With slow, seductive movements, she peeled away every inch of fabric from her body. Watched his eyes widen, then grow heavy. His shoulders and chest rose and fell with his heightened breath. The pulse point in his neck beating hard.

From the look of him, Alistair's desire was growing with each inch of skin she exposed, and a sense of power coursed through her that was even more potent than when she'd sucked his tongue into her mouth.

Calliope tossed her gown aside and stood there in just her chemise, the fabric so thin that her hardened nipples jutted against it. Each dusky nipple was clearly visible, and Alistair's eyes were riveted to the twin spots. She arched her back slightly, letting him see more of her, teasing him as she took hold of the ribbons at the center of her chest.

"Wait," Alistair's voice was husky. "Allow me."

Calliope stilled her fingers, watching, holding her breath as he pinched the ribbons between his thumb and forefinger. With a slow, agonizing pull, he loosened the ribbons, the sound of both their quickened breaths echoing in the room.

The ribbon came unfurled, her chemise falling open to expose her skin to Alistair's view for the first time. Calliope sucked in a breath, her heart pounding as Alistair ran a finger from her throat down to the valley between her breasts, then lower still to circle around the dip of her navel. With every caress of his eyes and finger, her skin sizzled, and she shivered.

"Ye're skin is softer than I could have ever imagined," Alistair whispered.

Sliding a hand around her naked waist, he leaned forward and kissed her collarbone. Calliope gasped at the feel of his lips on her skin, certain she would never know how to breathe properly again after this night.

Alistair trailed his lips, licking her as he went, down between her breasts and pushing the chemise off her shoulders, leaving her top fully exposed to the air and his touch.

"I like the way you touch me," she said.

"Good. I want ye to feel good."

"I do…"

Alistair pulled her taut against him, her naked breasts pressed to the fabric of his shirt. His hands wrapped around her waist, and he brushed his lips over hers. He was gentle at first, making her hotter and hotter. His kiss was sensual, slow, their tongues stroking languidly as though they had all the time in the world to taste one another. And really, they did.

Calliope wanted to feel his skin, too. He wanted to know what it would be like for her breasts to be flush with his chest, with no barrier between them. She gripped the back of his shirt and tugged it free from his plaid, splayed her hands on the bare muscles of his chest, her eyes on the slowly healing wound on his shoulder.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Nay. When I'm kissing ye, I had no’ even given it a thought."

Still, she would be careful with him. There were other scars on his chest as she ran her fingers over the hardened ridges of his muscles. Battle wounds. Alistair was a true warrior who had claimed victory hundreds of times.

His skin was warm, hard, pure strength. As she brushed her fingertips over his skin and touched the twin points of his nipples, something ignited inside him. Alistair let out a growl and took her mouth with rousing passion. Oh, but her husband had the power and passion to make her feel weak and strong at the same time.

While she ran her hands up along his spine, Alistair continued his exploration, hands on her belly and back. Anticipation consumed her. She breathed in his alluring scent and pressed her mouth to the skin of his chest. 'Twas as if his scent could leave her undone, and she couldn't get enough. Alistair hissed a breath and tugged her chin up to press his mouth to hers. While he kissed her, she splayed her hands over the rippling expanse of his taut, masculine abdomen. Every part of him was strong. Built to defend, and yet it appeared he was also built to give her pleasure.

"Och, lass…" he murmured, trailing his lips from hers to form a provocative path along her neck.

Her skin lit on fire where his lips touched, and she wanted to extend that blaze to him. Calliope pressed her lips to his corded neck, right where she could feel the pulse of his veins. Another hiss of breath came from Alistair. He licked a trail on the column of her neck, and she mimicked his movements, the tip of her tongue darting against his salty flesh.

Before she could ponder more on how she could torment her husband with pleasure, Alistair cupped her breasts. She held her breath, thrusting her chest forward, silently begging. And he didn't leave her wanting. Alistair brushed his thumbs over her aching nipples.

Calliope gasped a moan. This was what she'd wanted before, needed. And she desired so much more.

Alistair slid his mouth from her neck and kissed between her breasts. She threaded her fingers into his hair as he nuzzled the fleshy mounds. Hot, sensual breath caressed her flesh, and she moaned—a noise she didn't even know she could make. And another desire took hold in her mind. His wicked tongue, which had so expertly licked her neck—she wanted him to do the same to her breasts.

"Please, Alistair," she begged, uncertain if it was a request that he could even make happen.

But he didn't make her guess or wait.

Searing hot velvet caressed over the tip of her breast. Calliope cried out, eyes flying open to watch with fascination as Alistair's expert tongue flicked over her nipple. Every part of her body swooned and clenched, and she forgot how to breathe. He circled around the tip, flicked his tongue over it, and then blessedly sucked her nipple into his mouth. Calliope moaned, a guttural, feral sound, as her brain abandoned her, leaving her a white, hot, sinful mess.

She held tight where she'd threaded her fingers into his hair and begged him not to stop. To give her more… to give her… she didn't know what, only that she never wanted this pleasure to end.

But then Alistair pulled away and took a step back. "Och, love, I want to be skin-to-skin with ye."

Calliope nodded, wanting very much to feel the same thing. She watched, mesmerized, as Alistair removed his plaid and tossed the long fabric behind him. Alistair, with his golden, muscled skin, was beautiful. The man could have been sculpted from stone; only she knew when she caressed those ridges and lines that his skin was warm. He might look like a marble statue, but he was a hot-blooded man. With his plaid dropped, he was left nude and completely bared to her.

My goodness… Calliope's eyes widened as her gaze narrowed in on that very male part of him that stood at attention, beckoning her.

For the briefest of seconds, she was scared about what would happen. But deep down, she wanted this. Wanted to feel him inside her. Wanted to be loved by him. But how?

"I'm not entirely sure this will work," she said, bemused, eyeing the center of his body, wanting to reach out and feel him.

"I assure ye, 'twill work perfectly," he said, his voice low, sensual.

Alistair slid his arms around her, pulling her against him. Skin to skin as he'd promised, and she gasped. All hard lines to her much softer ones. Sparks of pleasure and need coursed through her, and once more, she forgot how to breathe.

"Kiss me, wife," he demanded.

While Calliope had thought she wanted to be in charge before, she realized she was more than happy to let her husband take the lead.

While he kissed her, he slid his hand over her back, stroking a burning path from her spine to her buttocks. Calliope shivered and kissed him harder. He massaged her backside, cupping, gripping, tugging her against him so that his hardened shaft pressed to her belly in tantalizing delight. She moaned. He caressed her hip, her bare ribs, belly, the undersides of her breasts, and each touch was soft but so filled her with pleasure and need that she found herself writing against him. Between her thighs grew damp and pulsed with a need she couldn't comprehend.

Before she knew what was happening, Alistair lifted her into the air and laid her on the bed. He slipped his hand between her thighs, gently forcing her to open her legs for him. She did so without hesitation and moaned when he slid a finger through her wet folds and stroked over the hardened nub of her pleasure. Every part of her clenched and trembled. She pushed her hips up, wanting more of the wonderful sensations he was giving.

Then he pushed a finger deep inside her.

Calliope cried out, clinging to him, her body begging for me.

"Do ye like that?" Alistair asked. His voice was deep and alluring, his words sliding over her body with the same pleasure as his fingers.

"Aye." She moaned as he continued to stroke. "But what about you?" she asked, her voice equally husky. "Can't I give you the same pleasure?"

Alistair groaned, his head falling to her forehead.

"Please," she said, "let me."

Alistair guided her hand to grasp the thickness of his shaft, the hardness of his velvet skin filling her palm.

"Oh my," she mused, squeezing.

Alistair hissed. "Gentle, love."

"Like this?" Growing bolder, she stroked up and down, listening to the increased intake of his breath.

Alistair gritted his teeth at the warmth of his wife's fingers encircling his cock. No woman had ever made him feel this way. And there'd been no other woman he wanted to please as much. Aye, he was a good and generous lover, but with Calliope, it was different. With her, he wanted to soar to the heavens and back over and over and over and over and over. Maybe never coming down.

Was this the difference between lust and love?

"Ye're going to drive me mad, lass."

"Is that a good thing?" She grinned wickedly up at him as she stroked her thumb over the tip of his erection.

Another few minutes of this, and he was bound to finish right in the palm of her hand. "Och, lass, too good."

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked.

"No' yet." Alistair closed his eyes, giving in to a moment of pleasure. There was something about having her be the one to touch him. This was more than pleasure. More than rutting. This went much deeper. The molding of two hearts. Love, passion. His soul mate.

"Your skin is soft and yet so hard," she said with wonder.

Alistair could only grunt in return because, once again, his wife seemed to have robbed him of the ability to form a coherent thought, let alone words.

"Och, no more," he groaned, "else we'll never get to the good part."

"Do I want the good part?"

Alistair chuckled and caressed her pleasure nub in circles; all the while, her eyes rolled, lips parted. "Aye, lass ye do."

But she didn't stop stroking him either, and he liked it so much he couldn't seem to find the power to make her stop. Somehow, he managed a force of will to remove her hand. "Tease," he said against her earlobe, taking the flesh between his teeth. Alistair nuzzled her neck, loving the hiss of her breath.

"You like that a lot," she said confidently.

"Oh, aye, lass. I liked it verra much."

Calliope sighed, and though he didn't see her face, he sensed her smile. He liked the sounds of her sighs and craved to hear more. He kissed a path between her breasts to her belly, glorying in her beautiful flesh made golden in the firelight.

Her breasts were round, full, perky and just as soft as they looked. Her hips were rounded, thighs long and sculpted, and a triangle of golden hair graced the apex. Alistair stroked over her thighs, running his hands from her knees to her hips.

"Ye're so beautiful," he whispered.

"Thank you."

Alistair parted her thighs, revealing the pink petals of her sex, and his breath caught. When he glanced up at her, Calliope's eyes were heavily lidded, cloudy with desire, and she watched him with the same fire he'd come to recognize as her spirit.

The love he felt for her was enough to overwhelm him. How he never wanted to disappoint her. His chest grew tight, and every muscle coiled, ready to spring. He made a vow to himself right then and there that he would make her cry out with pleasure again and again.

Her features relaxed, and she smiled. "Are ye well, husband?"

"More than well. I am the luckiest man in the world," he answered, winking. "I love ye." He slid his hands up and down her warm thighs.

Calliope sucked her lower lip into her mouth and gripped his arms at the elbows. She tugged. "I love you too."

Alistair knelt between her thighs, feeling the warm length of her shapely legs on his hips. His cock pulsed with need, and if it was even possible, he was harder than he'd ever been before. Calliope's eyes riveted on the place between them where the tip of his shaft pressed to her sex. Her fingers dug into his arms. There was no fear in her gaze, however, only an intense need, desire, and want.

The heat of her body cradling his erection made him wince with unspent pleasure. The potency of his desire for her was enough to make him lose control. Closing his eyes, he laid claim to her mouth, attempting to distract himself from what he really wanted, which was to bury himself deep in her hot center.

Tremors passed through him as she massaged his back, arms, and hips. His control was slipping with every passing second.

Pulling away from her mouth, he kissed his way back toward her lush breasts and then lower. He wanted to taste her, to pleasure her with his mouth. Her feminine scent teased his senses and made his mouth water.

When he kissed the very apex of her thighs, where soft, golden curls began, Calliope gasped and clenched her thighs tight on his head.

"Are you…?"

"Aye."

"Can you…?"

"Oh, aye."

"Oh, my…" She sighed, her thighs falling open in surrender.

He breathed hotly over her folds, listening to her whimper. "I promise ye're going to like it."

"I believe you."

Alistair teased her folds with the tip of his tongue. One glance showed he was indeed enjoying this very much. Alistair dove in for another taste. He teased, probed, licked. Calliope's whimpers grew to full-out cries of pleasure. Oh, how he wanted more. With his thumbs, he pealed her folds open, giving him full access to her nub of pleasure while he made love to her with his mouth. God, she tasted like Heaven. Slick heat and feminine sensuality. He pleasured her nub, flicked his tongue over it, and slid his tongue over her folds.

Calliope's thighs shook, and she clenched tight. Her fist lay buried in his hair, holding his mouth tight to her center. Her hips rose and fell beneath his ministrations. When he slipped a finger inside her hot velvet sheath, her muscles squeezed him tight.

Och, but she was close…

Alistair didn't let up. Continued his ministrations until Calliope's cries of pleasure drew out into cries of release.

"Alistair!" Her body shook and shook beneath him, clenched tight, her fist in his hair giving him a pleasurable pain.

With the strength of her climax, eyes widened, mouth opened in surprise, cheeks flushed pink.

Alistair smiled, a curve of pure male satisfaction. "I told ye, ye'd like it."

Calliope gave a breathless laugh. "Aye… 'Twas… amazing." She licked her lips. "Will you let me do the same to you?"

Alistair's cock pulsed with the thought of her luscious lips wrapped around him. "Next time," he croaked out.

"Oh, do let me have some fun now."

He shook his head. "If I do that, we'll never get to the bedding."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "Then next time."

He slid up her body until they were nose to nose, his length between her thighs, ready to burst.

"I want ye so verra much," he whispered.

Calliope responded by lifting her hips and kissing him. "I'm yours."

That was all the permission he needed to make them one. Alistair tilted his hips, his cock pressing against her slick heat. Slowly, he inched forward, trying to ease into her so he didn't hurt her. And yet he knew, this being her first time, that it was going to hurt no matter what. He only hoped the pain would recede swiftly.

"Kiss me, love," he demanded, taking her mouth with his as he surged forward, burying himself in one swift thrust.

She cried out against his mouth, a different sound than before, this one filled with pain.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

My God, he'd hurt her, and yet Calliope was exquisitely tight, surrounding him at once in a cocoon of heat. Pleasure pulsed through him, and he was in danger of finishing before they even started. His forehead fell against hers, and he couldn't move. He just breathed, trying to focus and push away the release that hovered right on the edge.

"'Tis all right," she said, her voice tight. "We'll soon be to the good part."

Just like her to comfort him in this moment.

"Did it hurt you too?" she asked, shifting beneath him.

"Do no' move, love." He squeezed his eyes shut.

"'Twill be all right," she crooned, shifting again.

"'Tis ye I'm worried about," he said. "I dinna hurt."

"Oh. I feel better now." She lifted her hips. "In fact, that feels quite good," she murmured, moving to kiss his neck.

Relief flooded him. He'd never bedded a virgin before and was glad the pain did not last, for he'd heard nightmares of brides crying all through the ordeal.

And yet his woman… she was taunting him with her mouth. And if she kept doing that… Alistair claimed her mouth if only to stop the heated torture of her lips on his flesh. She tilted her hips, nearly upending him, and he let out such a guttural groan he was confident those on the border could hear it.

Alistair slowly withdrew, then plunged back inside. He tried to keep it languid, wanting to drag out their pleasure. But she felt so damn good… And she was moaning, her fingers clasping around his back, hips rising and falling to meet each thrust. His fiery wife was a natural at making love and encouraged him to let loose everything he thought was important.

He kept his pace and thrusts measured, calculated to draw out her pleasure, but Calliope was writhing beneath him and demanding more, not only with her body but also her words. As soon as he felt her body clench tight and her sex begin fluttering, Alistair knew his intent to make love to her for hours was moot, this woman was his undoing. He gritted his teeth and plunged ahead, riding out her climax.

"Oh, Alistair," she gasped.

Tremors shook her body, and his own shivers took hold, pleasure radiating from the base of his spine and surging forward.

Alistair squeezed his eyes shut as the pleasure took hold of his body and possessed him. Yet, he tried to force it back. Not yet. He pressed his lips to the crook of her shoulder and licked at her skin. Swirling his hips, he arched up inside her, hitting that spot he knew would bring her another release. Calliope gasped and cried out. Their bodies slid with heated passion against one another over and over. He had to hold out just a moment longer.

"Oh!" she cried, her fingers raking down his back. Once more, her body surrounded him in a heated peak.

Alistair did not hold back this time. He quickened his pace, thrusting deep and hard. Like gale force, his climax slammed into him with a power he'd never before known. A heady, low moan escaped his throat as his entire body shook, emptying.

"Calliope!" he roared.

Conscious not to crush her, he held himself on his elbows but left his forehead against her shoulder as he waited for his breathing to steady. Their lovemaking had been everything he wanted and more. Life-altering in its power and potency.

"Calliope," he murmured again, then kissed her lightly on the lips and stroked her flushed cheeks. "That was…"

"Magnificent."

He nodded and kissed her again. Felt his heart soar. "I love ye, lass, more than I know how to express."

"I love you, too."

"My guardian angel," he whispered.

Calliope laughed. "Are you growing soft on me, Sinclair?"

Alistair grinned and kissed her hard. "Nay, love, in fact, I'm growing quite hard."