Alix broke into his thoughts, turning about in his arms and unfastening his plaid. It fell to the ground as she unlaced his shirt and drew it off over his dark head. Then she fell to her knees before him and began to caress his length with gentle fingers. His hand went to her tawny head, kneading the scalp as he encouraged her further. Alix began to slowly lick him up and down. And after a time she pushed his foreskin back and the pointed tip of her little tongue encircled the flesh beneath the rim of the head of his cock.
The laird drew a sharp breath. She continued to tease him in this fashion until finally she took him into her mouth and began to suck upon him. At the first tug of her mouth on his manhood, Malcolm Scott almost screamed like a girl so unbearably sweet was the sensation her mouth produced. As she continued to draw rhythmically upon his sensitive flesh, he groaned with acknowledgment of the pleasure she was giving him. And when he was thick and hard and could bear no more of her torture he growled, "Cease, lambkin! I would put my seed tonight where it should go."
He pulled her up, and she pushed his shirt from his frame. Their naked bodies met. Breast to chest. Belly to belly. Thigh to thigh. Their mouths fused into one as kiss melted into kiss and tongues jousted within the warm cavern of mouths. He backed her over to and pushed her down upon the edge of the bed. Kneeling quickly, he pushed her legs apart and began to lick first at the soft ins ides of her thighs. His tongue then licked the length of her moist, shadowed slit. His thumbs opened her to him and his tongue found her sweet core with perfect aim. He licked it for several long and heated strokes. Then, pressing his dark head between her open thighs, he fastened his lips about that little nub of sensitive flesh and began to suck hard upon it.
Alix screamed softly. Ever since he had introduced her to this particular pleasure she found she could not get enough of it. He would suck and suck upon the sentient nub, and it would swell and tingle, and the tingling would increase until it was unbearable and it finally burst. And when it did she would feel a small release, but then she would yearn to be fucked until the larger delight became totally insupportable and finally crested, leaving her utterly replete and weak with pleasure.
The first release came, and she sighed with utter contentment, but then the longing began to evince itself once more. "Hurry!" she begged him.
"Greedy wench," he teased as he rubbed the tip of his cock against the opening of her sheath. "Do you want this, my love?"
"Damn you, Colm, aye!" she cried.
"Beg me for it," he taunted her.
"Never!" she swore as he rubbed himself tantalizingly against her.
He laughed. "Beg!" he repeated.
In reply she pushed him from her and rolled away from him. He followed her onto the bed, reaching for her, but Alix eluded him, laughing. "Now 'tis your turn to beg, my lord," she teased him wickedly.
They rolled back and forth across the large bed until finally the laird caught his bride. He forced her beneath him. "Now beg!" he told her fiercely.
"You beg!" she insisted. "Do you not want to sheath yourself deep inside my warmth, Husband? Do you not yearn to take your pleasure?"
"Aye!" he told her, and pushed just the head of his cock inside her. "And you, Wife, do you not long to feel this thick and lengthy peg throbbing within you?"
"Aye!" Alix agreed.
"Then as we are of the same mind," he said, and he thrust hard.
The breath went out of her as she felt the denseness sliding into her. He loomed over her, taking her legs and pressing them as far back as he could without harming her. Then he thrust hard a second time, and plunged deep over and over again until Alix was indeed begging him not to stop. She squeezed thick flesh probing her hard. He groaned and she smiled, for she realized that they were gaining equal pleasure. And then her head began to spin, and she saw stars behind her closed eyes. She heard herself calling to him, "Please! Please! Oh, Colm, please!" And then she was spinning and falling even as she felt his juices exploding to flood her with his essence.
When she finally came to herself again Alix found herself in her husband's arms. "And it isn't even noon," she half whispered to him.
He laughed softly. "Understand, madame, I don't intend letting you out of this chamber until the morrow. And if it rains on the morrow we will remain here."
"But I'm hungry," Alix said.
"Food will be brought to us," he promised her.
"You have schemed all this out beforehand," she accused him.
"I have," he admitted freely. "I love you, lambkin, and now that you are my wife I do not have to pretend. All in the keep knew it. But we are newly wed and shall have this day, and perhaps another, just the two of us."
They had three days, for on the seventh of December it rained an icy rain, and on the eighth it snowed. And while on the morning of the ninth it was still snowing Alix insisted on leaving her bedchamber for Fiona's sake. The laird, while grumbling, knew she was right. His daughter was bright and lively, but she was also fragile. She had become very used to both Alix and her father being there for her. She greeted them when they entered the great hall almost with relief.
"Where have you been?" she demanded to know. "I was afraid, but Fenella said it is the custom for a bride and groom to be alone for some few days. She said you would be back when that time was over. What were you doing?"
"We were doing what a bride and groom do when they are alone, and one day you shall learn that for yourself," her father said.
"Have you enjoyed your holiday from your lessons?" Alix asked the child.
"Father Donald came when you were not here, except on the wedding day," Fiona grumbled. "He is not as much fun as you are, A-Mama. All he wanted me to do was read my Latin with him. He said I didn't need to know how to do mathematics. That my husband would do all that was important one day. But I like mathematics."
"And we shall do some this morning," Alix promised her. "Iver, send to Father Donald and tell him I have returned and will take up my daughter's schooling now."
"At once, my lady," the steward said.
"I'm so glad you're back," Fiona told them. "I missed you. I was afraid you had left me, Da. Alix is now your best girl."
"Nay, Fi," her father assured her. "Alix is my lady, but you will always be my best girl, even when you have brothers and sisters to play with, my bairn."
"When will I have brothers and sisters?" Fiona wanted to know.
"Alix and I are working very hard to make them for you," the laird told his daughter, who clapped her hands with delight. "That is why we were away."
"But we need not go away again, ma petite," Alix assured her. "We shall make your brothers and sisters right here at Dunglais, won't we, my lord?"
"Aye, madame," he told her with a grin. "We most assuredly will."
And Fiona was satisfied. The days grew very short as December progressed. As Alix had told Fiona the year before, she would be in charge of decorating it this year. The two, in Fenella's company, ventured out from the keep one morning to cut pine and other greenery. Over the next few days the hall was festooned with all manner of greenery and holly, along with many beeswax candles.
The Twelve Days of Christmas began on the twenty-fifth and ended on the sixth day of January. They had had a wonderful time just the three of them. Malcolm Scott couldn't ever recall having had such a glorious celebration as he did that year. And he realized he was unbearably happy. Really and truly happy for the first time in all of his life. He wondered if Dunglais had ever seen a happier time.
His father had been a hard man, but then it was a hard world in which they lived. His mother had been loving and patient. He was his parents' second child. His older brother had died at birth. And when he had been Fiona's age, his mother had given birth to a daughter who lived but several months. Oddly, his father loved his mother and had been satisfied with a single son even after his mother died and he might have taken a young wife to assure his line.