Page 16 of To Wed a Witch (Reluctant Brides #3)

B haltair knocked, then entered the room and froze in the doorway. The reason being that he had to take a moment to catch his breath. Sìne stood with her back to the fireplace, staring at him with a mix of nervousness and longing.

"I thought ye were abed?"

"I... I was, but I could not settle. So, I decided to..."

"Pace the room?" he asked, before casually crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him.

"Aye. 'Tis silly—I mean, 'tis not as if I am a blushing maiden, but my... my nerves are still frayed a little."

"'Tis understandable. Is Aidyn asleep?" Bhaltair asked, desperately trying to find some topic of conversation to prevent him from throwing her over his shoulder and ravishing her like a brute.

"Aye, after her warm bath, she nodded off quickly. As long as she is clean, fed, and dry, she rarely fusses through the night."

He nodded with a soft expression, then made his way to the adjoining chamber, taking a peek in at Aidyn. When he returned to Sìne's side, he took her into his arms and kissed her gently on the lips.

"Dinnae be nervous, love. We'll take things slow. I'll not harm ye."

"I ken it, but I'm afraid ye may not enjoy it."

He chuckled deep and low then. "'Tis not possible, wife. Believe me."

"How do I ken that?"

"Well, perhaps I should put ye out of yer misery and show ye instead."

She gasped. "Aye, I suppose that would be good," she rasped as her heart began to beat furiously.

Bhaltair nodded, then stepped a few paces away from her.

He needed to keep some distance between them lest he lose all semblance of control too soon.

He then slowly began removing his plaid with methodical movements until he was standing before her in just his thigh-length léine. "Good. That's... good."

Sìne was mesmerized by his movements in the firelight. He was tall and strong and determined. His léine came down to just above the knees, but his muscles were powerful and strong. Even partly clothed, it was a sight to behold.

What would he expect of her? What would he think when he saw the evidence of her past written on her body? She dared not move as she wrung her hands, trying to decide what to do.

"Sìne," Bhaltair said softly. "Come here."

She went to him, stopping just within arm's reach. In the firelight, she could see the pulse beating in his throat, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"I need ye to ken," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "this is not duty for me. This is not obligation or necessity. This is want, pure and simple."

"Bhaltair..." She reached up to touch his cheek, marveling at how he leaned into her palm. "I want ye too. But I must tell ye something first."

His eyes searched her face. "What is it?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

Heat flooded her cheeks, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. "As ye ken, I dinnae come to ye untouched and bearing a child changes a woman's body. I have marks on my skin. I dinnae want ye to be disappointed when ye see—"

He silenced her with a gentle finger against her lips. "Wife, do ye think I care about such things?"

"But—"

"I dinnae come to ye untouched either," he replied quietly. "I've been alone for a long time, Sìne, but I've had relations in the past." His hands framed her face tenderly. "I'll not lie and claim otherwise. Does that trouble ye?"

The honesty in his voice made her chest tight. "A little," she admitted. "I dinnae like to think of ye with others."

A slow smile curved his lips. "Good, because I dinnae like to think of ye with that bastard who abandoned ye either. The thought of any man touching ye..." Bhaltair began to scowl, and his body visibly tensed.

"He's gone," Sìne said softly, reaching out to gently caress his chest. "And my feelings for him died long before he passed."

Bhaltair instantly calmed at her touch. He placed his hand over hers and held it against his heart. "He was a fool, Sìne. A fool who didn't deserve ye or Aidyn."

"And now?"

"Now ye're mine," he replied fiercely. "For all time. No other man will ever touch ye, and I'll touch no other woman. We're bound, ye and I. 'Tis a sacred vow."

The possessive declaration should have frightened her. Instead, it sent warmth spiraling through her belly. "Do ye have bairns from others?"

"No." His answer was immediate and certain. "I was careful about such things. But if I had..." He paused, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. "I would acknowledge them. Provide for them. Not hide them away. No child of mine would ever wonder if their father wanted them."

Sìne felt tears prick her eyes at his understanding.

"Aidyn is blessed to have ye now," Sìne whispered.

"We're blessed," he corrected. "All three of us."

He pulled her close as his arms wrapped around her, anchoring her and keeping her steady on her feet. Bhaltair leaned down and kissed her, soft and sweet at first, then deeper as she melted against him. When they broke apart, both were breathing hard.

"Sìne," he murmured against her lips. "Will ye become my wife in all ways that matter?"

"Aye, husband," she breathed. "I am yers."

His hands unwrapped the arisaidh wound about her, and she didn't protest when it slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her feet. Then he gently loosened the ties of her shift, until it fell away completely and she stood before him in the firelight wearing nothing but her vulnerability.

She saw his sharp intake of breath, the way his eyes darkened as they took in her body. Her hands moved instinctively to cover the silvery stretch marks on her belly and hips, but he caught her wrists gently.

"Dinnae do that," he said hoarsely. "Dinnae hide from me."

"They're unsightly—"

"They're proof that ye carried life within ye. That yer body nourished and protected our daughter for months before she drew breath." He released her wrists and trailed his fingers over the faint marks with reverent touches. "They're beautiful because they're part of ye."

Before she could respond, he dropped to his knees before her, pressing gentle kisses to her naked belly. The tender gesture broke something loose in her chest.

"Someday," he murmured against her skin, "I hope to see ye round with my bairns. To watch ye grow ripe with my seed, to feel our babe kick beneath my hands."

The longing in his voice made her tremble. "Bhaltair..." she rasped.

He rose then, pulling her against his chest, and she could feel the evidence of his desire against her stomach. But there was more than lust in his eyes. There was tenderness, acceptance, and something deeper that made her heart race.

"Are ye certain?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of control. "We can wait if ye need more time—"

"I dinnae want to wait," she replied firmly. "I want ye. I want this. I want to be yer wife in truth."

The last of his restraint snapped. Bhaltair clasped her hand and walked to their bed.

He sat down and pulled her forward so she was standing between his thighs.

This way their heights were level and she could meet his gaze.

He granted her a scorching kiss as his hands gently caressed her.

When he pulled away, his heated gaze lowered to her sumptuous breasts. Every curve was a feast for his senses.

He grew harder at the sight of stiffened peaks beckoning for his tongue. Without warning, he lowered his head, opened his mouth, and suckled one nipple with earnest. Sìne's quiet moans reverberated through the chamber as she clasped his hair to keep him anchored against her bosom.

Bhaltair continued his relentless onslaught, releasing the tiny morsel to then lavish attention on its twin.

Sìne cried out his name as he suckled hard flicking his tongue relentlessly against the taut nipple.

He could feel her shudder against him. That urged him on.

He wanted her wanton and wild in his bed.

With no inhibitions. Sìne moaned and threw back her head, her braided hair swaying behind her and her breaths were coming out in slow pants, her legs trembled, and he held her upright as he feasted upon her like a man half-starved.

His hands reached behind her, clasping her rounded backside as he pulled her closer so she was flush against him.

Sìne could feel his hardened length rubbing against her. The sensations were like nothing she had ever experienced before.

But it was not enough.

Bhaltair needed more. Without further ado, he stood and swept her into his arms. She clung to him. Then their eyes clashed, hers—one green and one brown—hazed with lust and even more striking whilst his was full of raw need.

He gently lay her down on the soft furs with infinite care.

Then he leisurely clutched the bottom of his léine, and without taking his gaze off her, he dragged it over his head and discarded it as he stood over her completely naked, his manhood standing at attention.

Bhaltair reached down and began stroking his hardened length as he gazed at his comely wife lying in all her naked glory on the bed.

She was propped up on her elbows as she watched him intently.

Her gaze gently perused his entire body until it stopped at where his hand was wrapped around his length.

With each determined stroke her breath grew ragged and her pulse quickened.

"Do ye like what ye see, wife?"

"Aye, husband," she rasped.

"My beautiful wife," he murmured. "Mine and only mine."

"Yers and only yers," she replied, reaching for him.

Sìne thought she was going to spontaneously combust. Nothing she had ever experienced before prepared her for this. Bhaltair Ferguson was a hardened warrior all over and all man. It was the most sensually arousing sight to behold.

It seemed the more she took her fill of him, the harder his length became and his breathing became ragged. Then it hit her... all that arousal and that intense lust... it was for her. He made her feel like the most precious woman in the world and worthy of his attention.