He was hard. God help him! His cock was as firm as he could ever remember it being. He kept the sight of it from her, for he didn't wish her to panic, which she surely would have. He was longer than he had been earlier and far thicker. Gently he moved his finger to the opening of her sheath and pressed it forward into her. He felt her stiffen and murmured against her ear, "Nah, nah, lassie, 'tis all right. Do I hurt you?"
Alix thought a moment. No. He was not hurting her. "Nay," she whispered.
He moved the finger back and forth so that she would get used to the rhythm, and after a few moments she gave a little cry of surprise as she experienced a first burst of sweet pleasure from that finger.
"Oh!" Alix exclaimed softly.
He laughed quietly. "You see?" he told her, and he withdrew the single finger, quickly replacing it with two fingers, which he moved back and forth once again.
"Oh!Oh!" Alix cried out.
She was ready and while she tensed as he covered her body with his own, he soothed her with little kisses as he prepared to sheathe her. The laird positioned himself and pushed his cock forward. The portal gave way as he slid deep. Beneath him Alix was hardly breathing as she waited for the pain to engulf her. But there was no pain.
"Put your legs about me," he instructed her.
Then she gasped, for when she did he moved deeper into her. And there was still no pain. He filled her full, but there was no pain even when he began to move upon her. The fingers of their hands were intertwining as his rhythm grew faster and faster. Alix's eyes closed and pure instinct arched her body up to his every downward thrust. She found herself reveling in the sensations he was engendering within her. Her breath was coming in short hard pants, and she suddenly realized that she was experiencing pleasure. She had never before enjoyed such feelings as were now sweeping over her.
Alix cried out. "Don't stop," she begged him. "Oh, please don't stop, my lord! I am in heaven!" And then, as the hard core within her began to burst, she sobbed, "Oh, sweet Holy Mother, I die!" And she shook with her pent-up release as his love juices exploded within her exciting body.
The laird roiled off of his lover, panting with his exertions. For a moment he couldn't catch his breath, but then he did. Reaching out, he gathered the girl who had just given him such pleasure into his strong arms. To his distress Alix began to weep. She huddled against his chest, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing. Disturbed, he asked, "Did I hurt you? You should have told me! I said I would not harm you, lambkin."
Hearing the distress in his voice, Alix quickly reassured him. "Nay, my lord. It was wonderful! I did not know! I never imagined! Now at last I am beginning to understand my mother's love for my father, the queen's devotion to the king." She hiccupped, and her sobs began to abate.
He kissed the top of her head, relieved, and stroked her long hair as much to soothe himself as to soothe her. There was that elusive fragrance of hers again teasing at his nostrils. "I gave you pleasure," he said simply. "I am glad."
"Will we lie together every night now?" Alix asked him shyly.
"Except those nights when your moonlink is broken," he told her. "I am going to move you into the bedchamber next to mine. It is larger, and there is a connecting door to my chamber. We are less apt to attract my daughter's attention that way. You must be no less attentive to Fiona now that you are mine," he said.
"Never, my lord! I love the child," Alix answered him.
"Colm," he said. "I am not your lord when we lay together. I am Colm, and you are my Alix," the laird responded. "Let me hear my name upon your lips, sweet Alix."
"Malcolm, my dear lord," she said softly. "Colm! And again, Colm!"
He laughed joyously, and Alix realized that she had never before heard him utter such a happy sound. In fact, he was laughing and smiling more of late than anytime since she had come to Dunglais. "I will leave you now, my lambkin," he said. "And you will no longer be afraid of the coupling, will you?"
"Nay, I will not, Colm," she promised him.
He arose from her bed and wrapped the length of plaid about him. Then, bending, the laird kissed her and bid her a good night. Unbarring the door, he departed, and Alix lay awake for some minutes reliving the first passion she had ever known. The passion she had shared with Malcolm Scott. She had been so afraid although she had concealed it well, she knew. While she had enjoyed his kisses and his hands upon her body when he had mounted her, she had waited in silent terror for the cruel pain that would shortly tear into her. But there had been no pain. None at all! He had used her gently and he had given her the first pleasure she had ever received from a man.
She wept again briefly as she considered how sad it was that her husband could not have given her that pleasure. That he could not have loved her as sweetly as Malcolm Scott had made love to her.
And Alix wondered if Hayle Watteson had not hated her for not being his beloved Maida, would their marriage have been a fruitful and happy one? But he had hated her, and there was no changing the past.
But there was the future to consider. She was lying with a man not her husband. She had agreed to be his mistress. Alix knew that both her mother and the queen would have been shocked, would have been disappointed by her behavior. But if she had not allowed the laird to become her lover she would have never known the delights of passion. And tonight, Alix suspected, was but the beginning of her education in the amatory arts. Tonight the laird had opened the door for her, and Alix found that despite the less than suitable situation in which she found herself, she was eager to know what else lay on the other side of that wonderful door. Had Hayle Watteson been an exception to the rule? Were all men like Malcolm Scott? She didn't care as long as she might be in his arms, his delicious kisses rendering her dizzy with delight.
The following day the servants moved her few small belongings into the bedchamber next to the laird's. When Fiona asked why, for she was a curious child, the laird told her it was because then Alix would be closer to her, for Fiona's bedchamber was on the other side of the laird's.
"We shall be like three little buglets all in a snug row," Alix added.
"I like that!" Fiona enthused and Alix actually felt a tiny twinge of guilt for beguiling her small charge.
The border was quiet that year, and as the summer waned the Laird of Dunglais found his lust for Alix Givet burning brighter with each day. It was not enough that he shared her bed each night now. They rode out one day alone while Fiona remained behind with Fenella, learning how to stuff a mattress, an absolute necessity for any lady, Alix assured her, and the housekeeper agreed.
On a hillside Alix and the laird sat watching his cattle grazing peacefully. She lay back and looked up at the sky, where clouds scudded back and forth sometimes blocking the sunlight, sometimes letting it blaze bright down upon them. She saw the lust in his eyes as he looked down upon her and held open her arms to him. In no time at all Alix found her skirts about her waist and her lover vigorously fucking her. Her legs about his torso, she ran her nails down his broad back as he brought her quickly to pleasure and then did it again as her cries echoed about them.
"I did not know you could share passion on a hillside," she told him.
"Passion can be shared at any time, in any place," he assured her.
He proved the point again several days later when he found Alix in the stables brushing her mare's roan coat to a fine shine. Standing behind her, he played with her breasts as she worked and her breath began to come in quick pants. Then, as there was no one about, he put her down upon her back on a fat bale of fresh hay and entered her.
"I am your stallion," he told her as he used her vigorously, and then he put his hand over her mouth to stifle her cries, for her arousal was very great.