The Damaged Bride

Chapter 25

In the darkness of the night Marcus awoke, his head fuzzy and his throat dry. When he tried to move, he noticed for the first time that Bridgett was nestled against him. Looking down at her in the soft glow of the fireplace, Marcus was struck by how beautiful she really was.

He saw no trace of her grandfather when he looked at her, only a small, delicate woman, a beautiful woman, a woman in his arms, his wife. Slowly, he lowered his head and kissed her, his lips exploring her softness.

In her sleep, Bridgett responded, opening her mouth and welcoming his probing tongue. With a moan of desire, Marcus cupped her breast in his hand and began working the nipple between his fingertips until it stood, aching for more.

Awakening to this new and wonderful feeling, Bridgett threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to her. His lips left hers and slowly kissed their way down her neck and chest until his lips hovered over her nipple before taking it into his mouth. Even through the fabric of her gown, he could feel the heat radiating from her skin.

Rolling on top of her, Marcus lifted himself long enough to pull her gown down over her shoulders to expose her breasts. When they were free, he took turns teasing each one, loving the moans of pleasure Bridgett was making. Of their own accord, her legs opened to him, wrapping them around him on instinct, trying to pull him ever closer towards her, into her.

With a gentle push, he was inside her, the pain so brief she almost didn't notice it. Together they writhed, each giving, each taking until they both had reached a pinnacle of ecstasy and collapsed exhausted together on the bed.

Waking some time later, Marcus gently extricated himself from Bridgett's sleeping embrace. Struggling back into his kilt he silently opened the door and left, not looking back, his mind in turmoil.

He had known he would have to bed Bridgett sooner rather than later in order to fulfill the contract with Douglass, but he had never imagined he would enjoy it so much.

Bridgett was more than he could have dreamed. She opened to him like no other woman had, even Erica. Though there was no doubting her inexperience, she had been more than willing to learn what pleased him.

Returning to his rooms, he found Erica lounging naked on his bed, waiting for him, a pout on her lips.

"I've been waiting for you," she said, running her hand over her hip towards her breast.

"I had business to attend to," Marcus said, avoiding Erica's gaze.

"I know," she said, sitting up and walking to stand behind him. Over his shoulder she asked, "Was she the frigid shrew you were expecting?"

Annoyed at her impertinence, he picked up her clothes and threw them at her.

"That is none of your business," he said. "Now get dressed and get out."

"What?" Erica asked, surprised at being so lightly dismissed. "I thought you might want a woman who actually knows what she's doing."

Rising onto her toes, she pressed her bare breast against his chest and laced her arms around his neck.

"Someone who knows their own body as well as yours?" she purred.

Taking her by a handful of hair in one hand, he brought her face close to his.

"I said 'get dressed and get out'," his voice low and dangerous. Releasing her hair he stepped away and opened the door.

With a Gaelic curse, Erica pulled her chemise on, collected the rest of her clothes and left, angry words following in her wake.