Gifted

Pleasure

Alina flung herself into his arms and kissed him with more exuberance than skill. Noses bumped, teeth clacked together awkwardly, but Magnus was still thoroughly beguiled. He scooped her up, snagged the Sinclair plaids they'd left near the loom and carried her into the bedroom. Firelight cast shadows around the small room. A fresh red-with-green Kerr plaid was already spread out on the bed.

"I want to see ye," she said as she pushed his coat off his wide shoulders.

He wanted to see her, too, and thought briefly about the candles they'd left in the kitchen. Before he could blink, though, she had his sporran and belt off and his kilt fell to the floor. He held her wrists before she could proceed to remove his long tunic and leave him in just his boots.

"Slow down, love," he murmured as he kissed the palm of each hand. "I want tae see ye, too."

"Not much to see, really," she said with a shrug but obliged him by toeing off her boots and, after freeing her hands, unbuckling her belt and pulling her shapeless kirtle up and over her head.

Breath whooshed out of his lungs. She stood before him in stockings and a threadbare chemise, slim arms hanging clumsily at her sides, looking so achingly young and vulnerable that he felt a twinge of guilt for taking things this far this soon. She plucked at the thin white linen.

"Do ye want..." she hesitated. "I can take this off, too, if ye like. Only I usually don't, ye see, I keep it on even when I bathe. It's more efficient to launder the thing when I'm already wet -"

She stopped when he groaned out loud. Yes, he bloody well wanted her naked. He wanted her naked and underneath him and screaming his name as he plowed his cock into her quim over and over again. But, more, he needed her to have no regrets about their time together. He wanted this to be as special for her as it already was for him.

"I ken I'm not very shapely," she began, laying her hands lightly on his tunic. "But I think I'll still be able please ye. We've enjoyed each other so far, haven't we?"

He pressed his hands over hers and stared into her eyes.

"Yer perfect, Alina," he insisted, squeezing her hands to emphasize. "Ye don't have tae try tae please me. Ye already do. I want ye but we need tae talk first. I'm not gonna be able tae think straight if we go any further. Ye ken that I willnae be claiming yer virtue tonight, right?"

She nodded.

"I ken. I have to be a virgin for our bedding ritual and prove tae everyone that my bairns are yers." She added, getting herself riled up, "Though I don't see why that's any proof. Someone else could bed me after. Or, if I were a widow, I'd not have virgin's blood on my wedding night. Also, some virgins don't even have -"

Magnus put a hand over her mouth. He sighed deeply and led her to sit on the edge of the bed with him. Apparently, there were several things they still needed to discuss.

"First, no one else is bedding ye. Ever. Second, we're not royalty so we don't havetae have a bedding ritual. Third, and this is important, ye're beautiful, love. I'll not share the sight of ye with anyone," he said.

"Well ye'll have to, at least for our wedding night. It's tradition among the lairds here. Poor Jamie is never gonna live down not proving to his clan that he's able to sire an heir," she said.

"Besides, all the witnesses will see is this," she gestured to chemise. "Then the we get under the covers and no one sees anything. I witnessed the bedding ritual for the Boyd laird four years ago and I thought it fairly dull: just two lumps rustling under the sheets for ten minutes. Soon enough, the priest had a blood-stained sheet to prove to everyone that both bride and groom had done their duty and we filed out to give the couple back their privacy."