I said, “It was yesterday.”
“It feels like forever ago.”
I giggled and began pulling his tunic up over his arms and off, leaving him in a shirt that went to the top of his thighs. I teased, “I’m in my underwear and you’re still in a dress.”
“Aye, but I am naked under this dress, ye still hae...” He ran his hand through his hair. “Ye hae the pink garments on, tis verra fine, I canna remember what we were talking about.”
I giggled again and began pulling his shirt up over and off and he was standing there, absolutely glorious and completely nude, ready to go.
“Oh my.”
He scooped me up, lifted me from the ground and carried me to the bed. He carefully put me down in the middle, then all but lunged onto me. Then he was pulling my bra off then fumbling with the latch, and then trying to pull it again. He finally got it off then lay on my breasts, fondling and kissing them, driving me wild. I arched toward him and he looked in my eyes, “Ye like it?”
I nodded. His breaths were bullish, I could tell he was torn between giving me more pleasure, but needing to take me, now, then, there — he kissed me on my breast once, then shook his head and broke away. He began shoving down my panties and climbed on me and entered me, and with his shoulder against my mouth, sweet heat rising, his breaths warm against my ear, he rode me hard.
It was a lovely morning, being ravaged in our medieval honeymoon suite, desperate and hot. In our thoughts we might have wanted to be slow and deliberate, but we lost our minds in the excitement.
Afterwards, he nuzzled his face against my cheek. “M’apologies, m’wife, twas fast.”
“Twas perfect.” Then I giggled as I raised my foot to show him my pink underwear still looped around my left ankle.
He laughed, crawled down my body, pulled my underwear off my foot, crawled back up, and lay on me, clutching the pink fabric in his hand.
He said, “I am torn, m’wife, tae let ye wear them again, or tae keep them in m’sporran so I will hae them tae remember the sight of ye on our weddin’ morn.”
I kissed his forehead, and with my lips pressed there, said, “You will have to follow your heart on that, Lochie, they’re yours now, it’s your wedding gift from me, do what you want with them.”
“Och aye...” He kissed my chest and grew quiet. Then he said, “Ashy, daena tell Magnus that I stole the games from the safe house, I changed m’mind on it.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I agree, I changed my mind about it too.”
He kissed me again, then grew heavy, he mumbled, “I am verra tired.”
“You haven’t been sleeping for nights on end.” I ran my fingers through his hair, once, twice...
He said, “We hae a lot tae do...”
“There’s time to sleep...” I kissed his forehead again, and felt him fully relax and fall asleep.
We woke up and although I had slept deeply, and for what seemed like hours, it was still daylight. Lochie kissed my chest, waking up just after I did. “Och, I am famished.”
“Me too.” He looked at the pink underwear, clutched in his hand. “I would like tae partake of another delightful stroll through yer gardens, but...” His stomach growled, loudly.
I said, “I was thinking...”
“Tis about food? Because I am thinking the same thing.”
He had his chin on my chest and looked down at me with a merry expression.
“No, I was thinking about how to make it up to Magnus that we showed up without the weapons.”
“Ah.” He rolled onto his back, with my underwear on his chest. “What is yer idea?”
“I’m new to this, but if we left today?—”
“After food. I heard there would be pie.”
“Yes,afterfood, after pie, we could go to Balloch and help Quentin move the weapons and supplies here. He has a kid and the animals, I don’t think it will be easy, if James is coming with Sophie... I don’t know how they manage it, we could help. If we leave today, we come back tomorrow, that’s how it works.”
