#ceart-leth

She felt his arm relax as he withdrew, sliding almost all the way out of her, brushing the tip of his cock against her g-spot, and making her convulse against him. He grunted quietly, and tightening his hold on her arse, he thrust slowly back in to the hilt, and circled his hips.

“Jamie, please.” She begged, as she closed her eyes and arched her body against his. He was keeping her teetering on the edge, teasing her with the slow, euphoric assent towards climax, but not giving her enough to send her flying off into oblivion. He was driving her to the brink of madness, and she never wanted the feeling to end, but she needed to come.

Desperately.

“Ssh. Open ye eyes.” He ordered quietly, as he eased himself out, and thrust back in. He circled his hips around and around and around, grinding against her clitoris, fanning the flames.

“I can’t…”

“Ye can. Look at me, mo gràdhag.”

A slave to his desires, she peeled her heavy eyes open and lost herself once again in the maelstrom of emotion that raged within him. They were a reflection of her own, and unable to contain them, she threaded her fingers through his hair and drew his lips to hers. They were warm and soft and she whimpered against them as he pulled back and thrust in deeper, hitting her cervix.

She tightened her leg around his waist, and rocked against him, needy and impatient. But he clamped his hand down, stilling her as he pulled out slowly, then slid back in, inch by glorious inch.

He was trying to kill her.

They’d spent the whole day taking, teasing and making love. There wasn’t a millimeter of her body that he hadn’t explored with his fingers, lips and tongue. He’d found every one of her erogenous zones, just as surely as she’d found his, and he’d studied them carefully. He knew exactly the effect each one had on her, and he was using it to his advantage.

Each of their explorations had started out light and teasing, and had ended in their frantic joining when it became too much, and they raced towards climax.

But not this time.

It was with soft kisses, and gentle touches that he’d woken her in the dead of the night. Nestled behind her, he’d let his hands and lips roam along the length of her body, as she’d writhed sleepily against him, and stroked her hand languidly along the length of his ridged cock. He’d brought her to the peak of orgasm over and over, never once letting her fall, before he’d turned her in his arms, hitched her leg, and slipped inside her.

His urgency from the afternoon had gone, this wasn’t a race, it was a slow, agonizing build up to a release so powerful that it was sure to consume them both.

Their kiss was as slow and deep as their love making, and they clung to each other, moaning softly, as their tongues mirrored the passionate movements of their hips. Not once breaking the kiss, she rolled their bodies, easing him back onto the bed until she was lying astride him, resting on her knees.

Finally in control, she lifted herself and slammed down against him. He grunted, and grasped her hips in his iron hands, holding her down, as he thrust up and up and up, forcing himself so deep that she was engulfed in painful pleasure.

“Jamie.”

“Ssh.” He breathed as he moved her body above him, flexing and rolling her in time with his gentle thrusts. “Ye no in control, lass.”

“Please…I need to come.” She begged trying to pick up the pace, and almost crying in frustration when he dug his fingers into her hips and steadied her movements.

“I ken, I can feel it.” He groaned, as he rolled them across the bed, and nestled himself firmly between her thighs. His arms threaded themselves under hers, and he gripped onto her shoulders, holding her tight as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

In and out, around and around, over and over, grinding against her as she wrapped her legs around him and met him thrust for thrust.

“I can fee ye quivering around me.” He murmured as he dragged his lips from her ear to the hollow of her throat, and back up again. Her head fell to the side, giving him room as his sucked and nibbled at her oversensitive skin. “Ye so wet, so hot, and swollen and tight.”

“God…please.”

“No yet.” He whispered almost silently against her ear. “I’m no done with ye yet.”

“Jamie I can’t…please.” She begged arching up against him as her toes curled and the world around her began to fade into nothingness. It was there, it was right there, white hot and burning her from the inside out. She couldn’t contain it, she didn’t want to contain it, and as his mouth moved lower, and his warm wet tongue swiped across her nipple, she imploded.

Her whole body convulsed under his, locking down and clamping tightly around his cock, as she pulsed and quivered and cried out incoherently. Wave after wave of euphoric pleasure rushed through her, and she was lost to everything except him, as he thrust against her harder, losing himself in her pleasure.

“Shit.” He grunted, as he dropped a hand to her arse and lifted her up against him. His head was buried in her shoulder and she could feel his restraint as he attempted to control his urge to take her roughly.

“Take me, Jamie.” She begged, as she trembled with the after shocks of her release. She needed it, she could still feel the burning, and each time he hit her cervix she was almost pulled back under. “Please, please, Jamie please.”

“Christ, Claire.” He cried, as he gripped her harder and slammed into her. His gentle rolling thrusts, turned short, sharp and deep, as he pushed into her over and over, until with one final, painful thrust, he stilled and came with a deep carnal groan. He shook in her arms as he rode out his pleasure, and she could feel his cock pulsing and twitching inside her. Her body responded, tightening and releasing around him, as he searched out her lips and pulled her into a deep, soul searing kiss.

“Mo ceart-leth.” He whispered as he rolled to his side, pulling her with him. “Mo gràdhag, mo ciad-bhean. Tha mo ghion ort.”

“You know, I have no idea what you just said.” She whispered as she brought a shaking hand up to his face, and brushed her thumb softly over his cheek.

“My soulmate.” He breathed, as he turned his face to kiss her palm, “My love.” Her wrist, “My wife.” And her wedding ring. “I love you with all of my heart.”

“I love you, too.” She whispered through the sudden lump in her throat. “More than you know.”

“Ah, Sassenach.” He sighed, as he gather her trembling body close and lent down to kiss the top of her head. He was still inside her as she snuggled against him, listening to the thunderous beat of his heart, and his deep panting breaths.

She was so exhausted she could barely keep her eyes open, but she was so comfortable, so happy and content then she didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to stay right here, in this moment with him forever. But as he reached down and pulled the quilts up over them, shielding them from the cool night breeze, her eyes slip shut and she drifted to sleep.

“Ye’ll be wantin’ to keep these.” Maggie whispered, as she offered the neatly folded white sheet out to Claire. She looked down at it, confused for a moment, before her eyes widened and she quickly grabbed it from her maid hands and clutched it against her suddenly pounding heart.

“Um, yes, thank you.” She blushed as her eyes darted around the room, looking for somewhere to stash it. Although her period had stopped, and he’d taken her virginity a few days before, she had bled a little yesterday, and the evidence of that was mixed with various other bodily fluids on the sheet she now held.

It was a disgusting custom, but it was necessary, and she had no doubt that his father or the priest would demand to see them.

How embarrassing!

They had kept the towel from their wedding night, but as Maggie had known she was bleeding, they hadn’t declared it yet. As far as anybody would know, she was a virgin until yesterday when her husband had locked them in their room, and barred the door.

“Are ye well, Milady, can I get ye anythin’?”

“No, I’m alright thank you, it’s nothing a hot bath won’t cure.” She lied. “But thank you for doing this, I know it isn’t your job.”

“T’is my job to take care of ye, Milady, and that includes ye emotional needs as well as ye physical.” She promised, as she laid a reassuring hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Now ye eat up, an I’ll check on ye water.”

The look Maggie flashed Claire, as she scurried out of the room, was one of profound pity. She’d been looking at her the same way since she’d entered with the tray of food that Jamie had called for, and she could only imagine what was going through her mind.

Although she’d attempted to make herself presentable, she still looked exactly like she’d spent the night being ravished by her beast of a husband. Her neck and chest were dotted with pink and purple love bites, her hair was frizzy and stuck up like a ducks arse, and she could hardly walk.

Or sit down.

God help the poor girls sensibilities when she caught sight of the real bruises. Even Jamie hadn’t seen them yet, and he was bound to have a shit fit when he did. For the first time, she was awake before him this morning. Her bladder had woken her, and after hobbling to her dressing room and peeing broken glass, she’d examined herself in the mirror.

Her shoulders and hips were shadowed with fingerprint bruises, and her inner thighs marked from the pressure of his hipbones. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hide them for long, but she’d still wrapped herself in her new silk dressing grown, before hobbling back to bed.

Fortunately he’d still been asleep, and when he had woken, she was tucked back up in bed and he’d been ravenous for food.

“A penny for ye thoughts.” He murmured, making her jump as he appeared behind her and lent down to kiss her neck. “What have ye there?”

“The bed sheet. Maggie gave it to me.” She shrugged, as she pulled her robe tighter around her and turned to look up at him over her shoulder. “I’ve no idea where to put it.”

“Why’s Maggie givin’ it to ye? If she’s stripped the bed, it should go down for washin’.” He frowned as he walked around her and took the seat opposite.

“Don’t we need it for evidence?”

“Evidence? Evidence of wh…” he stopped and his eyes widened as he reached over and snatched the sheet out of her hands. He shook it out, and stared at it in horror. “Claire, why…”

“Shush!” She ordered, rushing to her feet to grab it back from him. But she moved too fast, and she almost doubled over as the dull, throbbing pain shot through her cervix.

“Claire!” He cried, dropping the sheet and quickly rising to support her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine, I promise.” She whispered, as she stood upright still clutching at her lower stomach.

Jesus Christ that hurt!

“Clearly ye no.”

“I’m fine.”

“So help me God, woman!” He growled as he scooped her up in his arms and sat back on the chair, holding her securely in his lap. “Tell me what’s wrong…why are ye in pain? Why were ye bleedin’ again?”

“Jamie…shush! Maggie’s in the dressing room.”

“I dinna care.”

She sighed, and shifted on his lap, trying to get comfortable, as she snuggled against his warm chest and rested her head on his shoulder. There was nowhere she didn’t hurt. Muscles she didn’t even know she had, throbbed in the aftermath of their activities. But in a strange way, it was a satisfying pain, that brought back a flood of memories.

“I promise that I’m okay. I’m just sore from yesterday. You’re a lot bigger than me, Jamie, my body just needs to adjust.”

“I hurt ye?” He gasped, appalled as he tightened his arms around her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Ssh, please don’t.” She begged tipping her head back to look at him. His dark blue eyes were clouded with worry, and she reached up and gently touched his face. “Yesterday was beyond words. There wasn’t a second of it that I didn’t enjoy. If I could, I’d drag you right back to bed now and pick up where we left off.

“But I’ve used muscles I’ve never used before, and it will take some getting used to. Besides, you can’t tell me that you’re not at least a little bit…tender today.”

His lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers in a quick, gentle kiss.

“Aye, my cocks a wee bit battered and bruised.”

“Then I rest my case.”

He lent back in his chair, watching her through the window as she moved slowly from one plant to the next. She was examining the leaves and buds, checking her wee book, and snipping off the ones she needed. He could see the change in her gait from here, and he winced with every step she took.

He’d tried to convince her to go back to bed, insisting that she needed to rest. But the stubborn wee lass refused. Claiming she’d be more stiff and sore if she did naught but lounge around all day.

“Ye a man possessed.” Murtagh grumbled, drawing Jamie’s attention from his wife, as he wandered into his study and threw himself down onto a chair. “Where did ye bugger off to yesterday? Ye bastard horse almost took me arm off tryin’ to stable him.”

Reaching for his wine, Jamie casually pointed to the sheet folded on top of the dresser, then took a long drink.

“T’is done?” Murtagh asked as he pushed to his feet and crossed the room. He lifted the sheet, examined the blood stain, then carefully folded it back it up and placed it back where he found it. “Good man.” He nodded, then poured himself a drink and and returned to his seat. “Are ye well?”

“Aye.” Jamie smiled as he glanced back at Claire through the window, remember their night and seeing the stark contrast between her and Annalise.

Murtagh was the one person who knew how bad it really was, he’d been there through it all. He’d witnessed the drunken aftermaths. Listened as Jamie’s had detailed the horrors of bedding her, and described her tears and terror as he taken her. Heard their screaming fights in London, and stitched him up when she’d stabbed him with a letter opener.

He’d held him through the heartache of losing his children. Eased his guilt when she died, and supported his choice to never marry again, when his da had insisted that he did.

“T’is no the same.”

“She loves ye.”

“Aye, she does.” Jamie nodded, his heart warming at the knowledge, as he turned back to face his Godfather. “She’s no afraid. She enjoys it. Christ, she makes it fun. And when she reaches her pleasure…Lord God…”

“Lasses canna…”

Jamie raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, trying not to smile smugly when Murtagh’s eyes widened. He was gaping at him in shock, and shaking his head in denial.

“No.”

“Yes.” Jamie nodded, as he took another drink.

“How?”

“Oh…In so many ways.” He smiled, remembering the way he’d teased her. He explored her body slowly, finding each sensitive spot, and drawing out one orgasm after another with his fingers, tongue and cock.

It was really no wonder she was so sore today, they’d been insatiable.

“It’s no the same as a man, obviously, and I’ll no divulge the secrets of my wife’s body. But next time, explore a little, and dinna be so fast to find ye own pleasure. Trust me, t’is worth the wait.” He winked, as he placed his glass down and pushed to his feet. “Now if ye’ll excuse me, I think I’ll join my wife in the garden.”

“Ye cocky bastard.” Murtagh grumbled, as rose and followed Jamie from the room. “I’ll be puttin’ Donas out with the mares again tomorrow.”

“Aye, I ken. I’ll be there, dinna worry.”

“Until ye get yer own cock-stand and go sniffing’ after ye wee fillie.”

“Aye, until then.” He laughed, as he bounced down the steps and crossed the driveway towards the garden. As he ducked under the archway he saw her crouched down, talking quietly with wee Jamie, and he slowed his steps as he watched.

She was showing him the things she’d collected in her basket, and it wasn’t difficult to replace his dark hair with red, and envision her teaching their own son.

The thought both excited and terrified him. After yesterday, there was a real possibility that she could be with child, and waiting twenty one days to find out, suddenly felt like a life time. Accepting a flower from Claire, wee Jamie kissed her on the cheek and toddled off in the direction of his nanny.

They both watched him go, and then Jamie quickened his pace, and carefully eased his hand under her arm to help her stand.

“I thought you had accounts to do this morning.” She smiled, as she handed him her basket, and linked her arm though his.

“Aye, but my mind may be a little too preoccupied with a certain wee lassie.” He winked as they turned to walk through the garden, away from the house. “I canna concentrate.”

“So whatever will you do with yourself? Your wee lassie is out of commission for a few hours yet.” She laughed, as she rested her head against his arm, and hugged him closer.

“If ye up to it, I thought we could maybe take a walk up to the kirkyard to visit the bairns. I havena been for awhile an’ I should go. Of course, I’ll understand if ye dinna want to, t’is no yer…”

“Jamie.” She whispered, tugging on his arm and forcing him to stop. He looked down at her in apprehension, but he needn’t have worried. Although it was tinged with sadness, she was smiling up at him, and her delicate hand came up to touch his face. “Of course I want to go with you. They’re your children, and I’d never dream of sending you off to see them alone. So, let’s pick some flowers and we can lay them together while you introduce us.”

He sighed quietly, and turned to pull her into his arms, not caring who saw. She was his wife, and he wouldn’t withhold their affections for the risk of offending some sensibilities. Especially not in their own home.

“What have I ever done to deserve ye?” He breathed, as she snuggled against his chest, holding him just as tightly as he was her.

“Something extraordinary good, obviously.” She shrugged against him. “Maybe you were a saint in a previous life, and you’re being rewarded now for your miraculous deeds.”

“Ye think very highly of yerself.” He laughed, tilting her chin so she was looking up at him.

“And who’s fault is that? I was perfectly modest until you sang my praises repeatedly yesterday.” She wink as her wee tongue peaked out to wet her lips.

“I’m afraid I dinna ken what ye talking about.”

“Well be a good boy, and I might just remind you.”

“I was hopin’ ye might say that. Cause there doesna appear to be anything wrong with ye mouth.” He murmured, as she gaped up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “Aye, just like that.” He whispered, as he slipped his thumb into her mouth. “I want those lips wrapped around my cock, sassenach.”

Her breath caught, and she closed her lips around his thumb, sucking it hard, and caressing it with her tongue. Her dark whiskey eyes were suddenly alive with desire and he shuddered, as he slipped his thumb from her mouth, and pressed his lips to hers.

He was up and out early this morning, to put Donas out to stud, and had promised to leave her asleep. But he’d apparently been unable to resist kissing her before he left, and she’d woken with the light pressure of his lips pressed to hers.

He’d seemed fine then, as he’d gently brushed her hair from her face, and whispered for her to go back to sleep.

So what the hell had happened?

“Now, lass!” He barked, making both women jump.

“It’s alright, Maggie, you can go, I’ll call for you when I’m ready to continue dressing.” She reassured her softly, never once taking her eyes off the raging bull. He was glaring daggers at the poor girl and Claire had to bite her tongue so that she didn’t snap back.

Even if she had done something to upset him, there was no need for him to take it out on Maggie. But of course, she couldn’t tell him that. Not yet, anyway. She’d promised him she wouldn’t argue back in company.

But as soon as they were alone…

“Aye, I’ll be back when ye need me, Milady.” Claire took her eyes from Jamie’s for one second, to gently squeezed Maggie’s hand, and attempted fruitless to ignore his dark impatient growl.

“Thank you.” She smiled as the girl dropped a quick curtesy, grabbed her sewing basket, and rushed from the room. She waited until the door had shut firmly behind her, and her rushing footsteps had all but disappeared, before she turned on her husband.

“What the hell?” She frowned whirling around to face him. But he wasn’t were she’d expected, he’d already moved, and she spun in a circle until she found him bolting the door behind her maid. “What are doing?”

“Is it done?”

“Is what done?” She huffed planting her hands firmly on her hips. “Jamie, what’s gotten into you?”

“Yer monthlies. I found ye wee sponges in ye dressin’ room.”

“Jamie!” She gasped, appalled as she rushed forward and snatched the two small, and thankfully clean, sponges out of his hand. “That’s…eww! Please never do that again.”

“Ye didna mind when it were my cock, Lass! As I recall ye went so far as to put it in ye mouth…”

“That’s different!”

“Ney, t’is no…now tell me!” He growled, as he stepped towards her and grabbed her hips, “is it done?” He pulled her body flush with his, and she couldn’t fight a smirk as she felt his engorged cock twitch against her stomach.

“That’s what this is about?” She teased, as she dropped the sponges and placed her hands flat on his chest. “You barge in here, from God knows where, and decide to traumatize poor Maggie, all because of a little cock-stand? Could you not have dealt with that yourself?”

“Claire!”

“I have to come with you next time. I never realised that watching horses mate was such an aphrodisiac…” she murmured, shifting her hips as she slowly dragged her nails though his chest hair.

“Dinna tease a desperate man, Sassenach.”

“You’ve ruined that poor girl for life now, you know. If seeing you half naked wasn’t enough, God help her if she caught a glimpse of this.” She breathed as her hand dropped between them, and cupped his ridged length firmly in her grasp. “No other man stands a chance…I may have to fire her if she gets any ideas.”

“Tell me, Claire before I take ye regardless.” He threatened, the storm in his dark eyes sending a tidal wave of desire rushing through her.

“Yes, it’s done.”

“Thank Christ!” He groaned as he scooped her up into his arms and strode quickly towards the bed. Without ceremony, he all but threw her down amongst the sheets and swiftly tore his towel from his hips.

Her eyes naturally fell to his cock, and she shivered at the sight.

God help her.

He was so hard, so ready, that the head was almost purple and a small bead of come glisten invitingly at the tip. She felt him gathering her shift up around her hips, and her eyes shot back up to his, but it wasn’t her face he was looking at.

Grabbing the back of her knees, he bent her legs and roughly drew them apart, displaying her naked sex to his hungry eyes.

“I need ye.”

Lightening struck her core, tightening her inner muscles, and bringing with it a flood of arousal. Her period had been awful, so they hadn’t made love since that first night, and she was as desperate for him as he was for her.

His rough man handling was only fueling that desire.

“Then take me.” She whispered, suddenly unable to catch her breathe. His eyes were locked on her sex, and she trembled as he licked his lips and drew his calloused hands down along the inside of her thighs. She’d never been so exposed to anyone, and while she should be embarrassed, the way he looked at her made her feel like a goddess.

He dropped to his knees at the side of the bed, repositioned his hands, and dragged her down to within inches of his face. Her heart took off and her fingers clenched around the sheets in anticipation. Jesus Christ, he’d not even really touched her yet and she was ready to explode.

If he was about to do what she thought he was about to do, she might just die. He licked his lips again and she whimpered as his shifted his eyes to hers. They were ravenous, he wanted this desperately, but she could see just a hint of uncertainty. This would be another first for both of them, but while she was the one with the least experience, she was also the one with the most knowledge.

“It’s just the same as when you touch me…just use your tongue as well as your fingers.” She encouraged gently as she stretched down to touch his face. “As though you’re kissing me.”

He moved closer, and she shuddered as he buried his nose against her sex and took a deep breath.

“Lord God, ye scent.” He breathed in awe, before parting her lips and taking one long swipe with his tongue, from her opening to her clitoris. She cried out at the sensation, and her hips shot up of the bed, searching for more.

Jamie groaned deep in the back of his throat, and tightened his hold on her, pushing her back down and forcing her legs further apart.

“Ye taste like honey.”

“Jamie, please!”

He shushed her, and the near silent sound blew a stream of cool air across her heated flesh. She shivered, and then mewled quietly, as his warm wet tongue flicked against her.

“Oh, God yes!”

Unrelentingly he circled her exposed clitoris with the tip of his tongue, around and around, fast then slow, over and over, nearly driving her insane. Before he lapped at the length of her again and drew it into his mouth, sucking forcefully and flicking her with his magical tongue.

She felt one long finger probe her entrance and, as he thrust it deep inside her, she cried out and buried her fingers in his hair. Jesus fucking Christ! She was holding him in place as she rolled her hips, riding his finger and his face as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

For a man that had never done this before, he was an expert at it, and she thanked every God she could think of as he thrust and licked, sucked and bit.

“Jamie, Jamie…shit…Ah!” Her back arched as he switched around, pushing his long tongue deep inside her, and circling her clit with his thumb. He wasn’t holding her down anymore, the weight of his hand was gone, and as she looked down in a daze she realised why. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

She couldn’t see his hand, it was hidden by the bed, but she could see his arm moving and she knew exactly what he was doing. It was so fucking hot that she lost her tenuous hold on reality, and came with a low, keening cry of his name.

“Aah..stop stop stop…Jamie.” She pleaded weakly as her limp body fell back against the mattress. She was too sensitive and she jerked violently with every new brush of his tongue.

“If I dinna take ye now, lass…” He panted as he pushed to his feet and loomed over her. She looked magnificent, spread wide on the bed before him, with her honeypot swollen and glistening from his attentions . “I canna…I need ye naked.”

Shakily, she rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up so that she was kneeling on the bed before him. In his haste to get to her, he’d interrupted her dressing, so the laces of her stays were only half threaded. Working quickly, he tugged them all free, threw the stays on the floor, and pulled her shift up over her head.

In stark contrast to her smooth ivory skin, her long, dark hair fell in waves down to the curve of her plump arse. There was just something about the image that had his painfully hard cock twitching against his stomach. She was a vision, and if he didn’t take he soon, he might just die.

He dropped his hands to her hips, intending to turn her over, but she fell forward onto her elbows, and turned to look at him over her shoulder.

“Like this.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Her arse and honeypot were pushed up, level with his cock, and he could see her sweet, sweet nectar slowly gathering at her opening.

“Ye sure?” He begged, as he hands flexed at her hips, pulling her closer. He’d known it was possible to take a woman this way, he’d seen a man take a whore like this in Paris, but he’d never dreamed of doing it, not with Claire.

But God forgive him he wanted it.

“Please. Just go slow.”

Slow?

Shit, he was so desperate for her he wasn’t sure if he could go slow. But he nodded, and gritting his teeth, he fisted his cock and slowly eased the head into her warm, dripping wet pussy.

“Christ, Claire.” He growled, as he moved his hand back to her hip and gripped her firmly. “Ye so tight, lass. Spread ye legs.”

Her head had fallen down to the bed, and she was tense and clutching at the sheets, but she complied, widening her stance and making room for him to push further in.

His hips pulled back, and he watched with increasing need, as his wet cock slipped out, and then disappeared a little deeper inside her. He’d never seen anything so erotic in his life, and the sight alone had his bollocks tightening alarmingly.

She was so hot, so swollen and wet and soft that he never wanted to leave her body. He wanted to go as slowly as she’d asked him to. He wanted to prolong his own torture, hold on to the anticipation and the sheer pleasure of being buried inside his wife.

But he needed to take her hard. To pound into her, to hear her crying his name as he fucked her over and over, until they were both consumed by the power of his lust.

He drew back, then pushed in deeper. Back and forward, again and again, trusting and rolling his hips, forcing his way in slowly until he was buried to the hilt. Claire whimpered with every thrust, but she was there with him, pushing back against him, encouraging him to move.

The head of his cock hit the end of her inner most depths, and he almost bit through his lip, as sharp jolts of pleasure ran up the length of his cock.

He slipped almost all the way out, rolled his hips and pushed in a little harder.

“Ah, shit.” She panted, as she pushed back against him, locking him in deep. “Again…oh God.” Her opening was stretched wide around his girth, and he watched it retract as he pulled almost all the way out, and stretch again and he thrust right back in. “Yes!”

“Lord God, Claire…I canna…”he groaned, as he pick up his pace, thrusting into her harder, faster until his hips were moving steadily against her arse. He folded his body down over hers, and reached under her to grip her shoulder and breast in his hands. “I need to feel ye.” He panted in her ear, “I need ye to…come around my cock, Claire.” He begged as his fingers found her nipple, and he twisted it sharply, making her cry out and tighten around him.

“Jamie…please…harder!”

“That’s it.” He purred as he pulled and twisted, thrust and ground up against her. “Let me feel it, lass.” He stood, never breaking his stride, as he pulled her up with him, slamming his cock to the hilt, over and over again.

Her head fell back against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm across her chest, holding her in place as his hand found the place where they were joined.

“Yer so wet…so tight.”

She was pushing down against him, crying wordlessly with every deep, penetrating thrust, making it almost impossible for him to hold on. He could feel the heat building at the base of his spine, feel his bollocks pulling up tight and tingling with with his impending release, and was basking in the unbelievable pleasure that was shooting though his cock.

He was so desperate to feel her spasm and clench around him, but it was too much. He pounded into her again and again and again, and then thrusting in as far as he could, he let go and released his seed in long hot spurts deep inside his wife.

With a quiet cry of his name, Claire buckled in his arms, and clamped down tightly around his pulsing cock. Her pleasure, prolonged his own, and his hips jerked against her, as her muscles spasmed around him, and milked the last of his release from deep within him.

“Jesus, fuck.” He winced, as he slipped his sensitive cock from her depths and fell sideways onto the bed, with his laughing wife still in his arms. “What’s so funny?” He growled, as he tightened his arms and peered over her shoulder. Her wee, sweaty body was shaking against him, and he swiftly pinched her nipple in warning.

“Hey!” She chastised, grabbing his hand, “You said fuck…it sounded funny, that’s all.”

“Did it now?” He whispered darkly as he twisted her in his embrace. She looked up at him, all humour leaving her, as she reached up and touched his face.

“I love you so much.”

“As I love ye.” He whispered back as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

It was the first time he’d kissed her since entering the room, and with their passion sated, it was a slow deep kiss full of nothing but love. Their tongues entwined languidly, and he threaded his fingers through her sweat soaked hair, holding her to him as he kissed her deeply.

Her leg came up to tangle with his, and she pulled herself closer, bringing their bodies flush together.

“What ye do to me.” He breathed, breaking the kiss and flopping back on the bed. He tucked her snuggly into his side, and she snuggled down against his chest.

“What I do to you? I believe it was you that accosted me!” She laughed. “What brought that on?”

“Ye werena far wrong about the horses.” He admitted, making her laugh out loud. “I’d left my bonny wee wife near naked in my bed, after no havin’ her for days, an’ all to go an’ let one damn beast after another roger a mare.”

Claire snorted and clamped her hand over her mouth. He looked so indignant, so put out that his horses were getting some and he wasn’t, that she just couldn’t hold it in.

“So you were jealous of your horse.”

“Aye.” He nodded, unashamed. “I kent that Maggie was in with ye, so I came up the servants stairs an’ thought I’d use ye water while it was still hot. But as I rinsed off I saw ye wee sponges…”

“And you thought you take your chances, and damn the maid.”

“Aye.”

“Well I’m glad you did. But poor, Maggie..” she sighed, drawing random patterns on his chest with her nails. “Maybe we should pay her extra.”

“She’s ye maid, Sassenach. She gets paid well enough, and she’ll have to get used to seein’ thing she’s no used to seein’. I’m sure she’ll see worse before too long.”

“Probably.” She laughed, as she pushed up on her elbow and looked down at him. “I should ring for her soon.”

“Why?”

“So I can dress. Your father will be here in a few days and I need to get the wedding plans finalised.”

Yes, they were already married, but after speaking with father MacBride, and almost begging his forgiveness, Jamie had suggested having a big wedding.

He wanted the full shebang.

With a church and a dress, guests, dinner and dancing afterwards. He’d already sent word out via Willie and his mother, and she been catching herself coming backwards attempting to arrange everything.

All while avoiding Jenny who had refused to stay in her room.

“Ye’v done enough.” He growled, pulling her down to lie across his chest. “Ye mine today, lass. Ye done with yer courses, and I’m done with my shots. So, I dinna intend to let ye leave this bed till I’m through with ye.”

She felt his cock twitch against her leg, and her eyes widened as she stared down at him in shock.

“Again?”

“Aye…an’ again an’ again an’ again.”

He’d bared his heart and soul to her. Laid all his fears, all his pain and self-condemnations, out for her to see. So, how could she asked him to make love to her now? When he knew full well that he may have already infected her with the very thing that might have killed Annalise and his children?

She knew she couldn’t get pregnant now. She knew that if she was already infected, further exposure was irrelevant. And she knew that taking the penicillin on Friday would be enough to kill the infection before it took hold.

But he didn’t, and no matter how she attempted to explain it to him, or justify it to herself, it wouldn’t make her request any less cruel or callous. He’d been though enough of that today with his sister, and what he needed now was love and understanding from his wife.

And maybe a bit of innocent fun.

“I want ye so much, mo gradhag.” He groaned quietly, as he raised his head and looked up at her. “So much so that I fear I’ll go mad in the wantin’ of ye.”

“I know, me too. But you were right before. We’ve got the whole of our lives to spend making love. What matters now is simply being here together.” She smiled, as he slid his hands slowly up to her waist. “So we can spend the night talking, or with a game of cards, or maybe you can teach me to play chesssss…” she squealed as he lifted her and twisted their bodies quickly to lie her back on her bed beside him.

“Jamie!” She giggled, as she bounced down onto the soft feather mattress, and reached out for him to join her. He shuffled up the bed and loomed over her, with his weight resting on his elbow, and his finger running softly down her cheek.

“I willna spend our weddin’ night playin’ chess, Sassenach.” He growled moving his finger along her neck and down to the rise of her breast. “I canna risk ye life, more than I already have, but…”

“Jamie stop.” She begged, reaching up to cup his face. “Listen to me. I promised you, on the ridge, that I’d never force or cajole you, and I won’t. I love and respect you too much to ever break that promise. But I care too much about your peace of mind to let you drown yourself with guilt.

“So, you need to understand. Whether we make love tonight or not, if and that’s a massive if, you’re infected, I’ve already been exposed and further exposure won’t make a difference. The penicillin will kill the infection and it will work just as well on Friday as it will today. But most importantly, what happened with the blood oath wasn’t your fault…”

“Aye, it was…”

“No it wasn’t!” She growled. “I’m a doctor Jamie, I could have stopped you, I knew the risks and I chose to ignore them. What I didn’t think of was your reaction to it, and I’m sorry for that. I understand why you’re so worried about it, but I promise you on everything I hold dear, that it is not your fault and I will be completely fine. So, pass me the case.” She ordered lightly, holding out her hand and waiting while he reached for it blindly. “Time for you to get your revenge.”

“What?” He frowned as he watched her pull out a clean syringe and one of the large bottles of penicillin. It was her last clean needle, so she would have to find the time to sterilize them tomorrow. “I’ll no be sticking ye with that.” He gasped, rolling away as she tried to hand him the syringe.

“Aye, ye are.” She laughed, as she itched up the side her skirt and flashed him a small patch of her bottom. “I’m not doing it to myself.”

“Claire.”

“Jamie.”

“I canna.”

“You can.”

“Lord God forgive me.” He moaned, taking the needle from her and climbing to his knees. He hovered it over the place she indicated and looked up at her wide eyed. She wasn’t looking forward to it, but she was finding it near impossible not to laugh at the horrified look on his face. “T’is no funny, lass.”

“Oh I know. But just a few hours ago you were threatening to belt your sister, and yet you won’t even stab me with a tiny needle.”

“T’is different.” He growled, his eyes moving from her arse to her face. “I’m no angry with ye.”

“And if you were? Would you belt me?”

“Aye, if ye deserved it.” He nodded, pursing his lips, “This is no the way I envisioned seeing your arse tonight, Sassenach.”

“You do realise that if you ever try to hit me with a belt, they’ll be hell to pay?” She warned seriously. There was no way on earth she would ever allow him to punish her like that. But his lips twitched, and the wink he shot her had her wondering whether he really understood the implications.

“Oh, I dinna doubt it, lass. I did see what ye did to Randell after all. I’ll just have to find a way to protect my cock afore I take my strap to yer fine, fine arse.” He growled, as he bent down and bit the tender skin of her backside.

“Jamie!” She squeaked pushing his face away and dissolving into fits of laughter. “You can’t bite me!”

“Ye my wife now, lass. Mine to do with as I please.”

“Oh really?”

“Aye.”

“We’ll have to see about that.” She huffed playfully. “But for now, either stab that needle in and push the plunger down, or call the maids to fill the ba-argh-th!”

“What? Ye told me to do it.” He laughed, as he pressed the plunger and pulled the needle out of her arse.

“I know, but I wasn’t ready.” She complained childishly, her heart melting as he lent down and kissed the spot he just stabbed.

“All better?” He whispered, as he dropped the needle back in the case and stretched the length of his body back up beside her.

“Much, thank you.”

“Nay, mo gràdhag. Thank ye.” He murmured, brushing his lips against hers. “I dinna ken what I’v done to deserve ye, but I’ll thank God for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t make me cry.” She half laughed as she swiped a lone tear from her eye. “It’s our wedding night and while we can’t make love, there are plenty of things we can do. So I’m going to freshen up, and you’re going to get comfortable.” She smiled, raising her head to kiss his lips, before she pushed him onto his back and scooted off the bed.

“Yer a bossy wee thing.” He chuckled flashing her a wink, as he reclined on the bed, with his arms crossed beneath his head.

He look so gorgeous that her heart stuttered and skipped a beat, and she was half tempted to fall back down beside him. But there was no way in hell he was getting a look at the eighteenth century Bridget Jones knickers she been forced to wear, and she needed a moment alone to get her head on straight. So she grabbed her bag, blew him a kiss and swished away towards the dressing room.

“Shit.” She breathed, as she slouched against the door and screwed her eyes shut. Her heart was pounding unsteadily in her chest, and she was full of such conflicting emotions that she couldn’t grab hold of one long enough to name it. The day had been a virtual roller coaster of ups and downs, twist and turns, and although she was exhausted, it was far from over yet.

It was her wedding night, and while she couldn’t make love to Jamie like she wanted to, she wouldn’t let it go by uncelebrated, and she doubted that he would either. So, despite her lack of experience, and her deviated hopes, she wanted to give him a wedding night he wouldn’t soon forget.

She was sure his first one had been a complete disaster, and she wouldn’t have them suffering the same fate now.

Attempting to stem the nervous butterflies that fluttered wildly in her stomach, she took a deep, calming breath and looked around the room. The only thing she’d really noticed earlier was the bathtub. But as her eyes moved from place to place, she realised that Maggie must have known what was happening.

The soap, sponges, and perfumes she’d used before were all there, lined up neatly on the dresser. And there was a basket beside it containing a clean pile of rags, and a bucket of water for the old.

A commode sat in the corner, and there was a fire burning bright in the hearth, with a small caldron of water simmering above it. There was also two other doors leading from the room. The first, she discovered, as she walked across the room and opened it, lead to the servant corridor, and the second was to a closet.

Save for a few clean shifts, stays, stockings, and her dressing gown, it was empty. But she’d found what she was looking for and, taking another deep breath, she reached in and quickly grabbed the robe.

It was a beautiful soft cream linen, that buttoned to the waist and fell away in flowing folds to the floor. The hemline, and the billowing cuffs, were embroidered with pale green vines, and soft pink roses, that danced up along the skirts and sleeves.

It was perfect for what she had in mind.

Setting it aside gently, she crouched to rummage though her bag for the ivory underwear she had buried in there somewhere. After his reaction at the stream, she knew Jamie would love them, and they would go perfectly with the robe.

No, they couldn’t make love, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have some fun, and she wanted to look and feel sexy for her husband. It was only the first day of her cycle. So, while her stomach still cramped, she really wasn’t bleeding that much, and they’d be fine to play around a bit. He wasn’t squeamish after all, and it was tomorrow, and the next day, that she’d really suffer.

The underwear was right at the bottom of her bag, and after pulling it out carefully, she laid it with the dressing gown and set about getting herself ready.

Thankfully, she’d already bathed twice that day, so it didn’t take her long to freshen up and slip into the lingerie. Clean, dressed, and with a fresh rag folded neatly in her knickers, she unpinned her hair, fluffed out her curls, and took one final, deep, cleansing breath before pulling open the door.

Jamie was kneeling by the fire, his own hair free of it braid, and dressed in nothing but his shirt and kilt. He didn’t look up from his task, so she quickly placed a wet wash rag and towel on the bed side table, and slowly crept across the room towards him.

“Are ye hungry?” He asked, making her jump. She hadn’t thought he’d noticed her and she’d planned to sneak up on him.

“Not for food.” She purred as she quickly sat on the bed and lent back on her elbows, ignoring her pounding heart. She hadn’t bothered to button up the robe, and it parted down the middle revealing her lingerie clad body, and her heaving chest.

“Is that so?” He laughed, pushing to his feet and turning to face her. He froze, completely, and his eyes widened so comically that she had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing. It was the response that she’d hoped for, that every girl dreams of getting from her man, and she silently high fived herself.

“Everything okay?” She whispered, as she rose and smoothly crossed the room towards her mute warrior. “You look a little tongue tied.”

“I’v no blood left in my head, lass. I canna think enough to speak.” He choked out, making her laugh as she ran her fingers lightly down his chest.

“Is that so?”

“Aye.”

“Then I’d say it’s a good job you’re married to a doctor.” She breathed, trailing her hand lower to the waist of his kilt and tugging his shirt free. “I’m sure if you let me…examine the problem, I can find a cure.”

“I think that’s only right, seen as ye caused the problem to bein’ with.” He murmured, as he slid his large, warm hands between the folds of her gown, and gripped her hips. “Ah, Christ, Claire…yer a vision.”

“As are you.” She murmured back, as he flexed his muscles and lifted her easily into his arms. Her legs went instantly around his waist, and they both moaned softly as she brushed against the hard shaft of his cock.

“Lord God help me.” He begged as he grabbed her arse and captured her lips with his.

The kiss was as deep and needy as every one that had come before it. All their pent up longing and frustration pouring out of them, as their tongues met and fought for dominance. In his mouth and hers, back and forward, twisting and dancing until he growled low in his throat, and squeezed her arse roughly.

She surrendered willingly, drunk on the taste of the warm, smooth whiskey and rich, sweet passion infused on his breath. She melted against him, letting him hold her weight, and take control.

“God, Claire. Let me look at ye.” He panted as he broke the kiss and slid her lazily down his body. She was dazed, completely lost in a fog of lust and need, but she complied, stepping back out of his arms and shrugging out of her robe.

It fluttered to the floor, and she took a deep breath as she looked up at him, trying to swallow her nerves. He’d seen her like this before, but this felt different some how, she felt more exposed without their teasing banter.

“All of it, lass.” He ordered gently, as he snapped the cuffs on his shirt, and pulled it swiftly over his head. Leaving his glorious bronzed chest bare. “I want to see what’s mine.”

Jesus Christ.

She almost combusted.

The simple possession in his voice, his assumed right that she belonged to him, that she was his to do with as he pleased, was enough to make her weak at the knees. It was so bloody sexy, that she complied without thought or embarrassement.

Watching him closely, she twisted her arms behind her back, unfastened her bra, and smoothly dropped the lace to the floor. He swallowed audibly, and his tongue peaked out to wet his lips, as he raked his eyes slowly along the curves of her body. His hungry look, and the reverent way his calloused hand reached out and gently caressed breast, made her feel like Aphrodite in the flesh.

“So soft.” He marveled as he traced a weaving pattern around her breast, creating goosebumps in its wake.

A smile touched the corner of his lips. He knew full well what he was doing to her, and she almost convulsed as he dragged his nail across her nipple, and down the seam of her stomach.

“Jamie.” She shivered, as all the muscles below her waist clenched at his touch. God help her, they’d only just begun and he was already driving her crazy.

“These too.”

She blinked up at him, holding his warm blue eyes with hers and nodded slightly. She hadn’t expected this, and it was risky, but she wouldn’t stop him. She was his wife, and if he wanted to look at her, she had no objection.

He hooked his thumbs into the lace at her hips, and she held her breath as he crouched, and eased her knickers over her arse, and down her legs. He was right there and she was completely exposed, but she just didn’t care.

She was so turned on by his show of possession, that he could have done just about anything, and she’d have agreed.

Gripping his shoulders for balance, she lifted one foot and then the other, and slowly stepped out of her underwear. He looked up at her, his dark, hooded eyes making her tremble, before he placed the lace carefully to one side, grabbed the rag, and tossed it into the fire.

Not bothered by it in the slightest.

“Ah, God Claire.” He moaned, as he gripped her ankles and ran his hands slowly up the back of her legs.

She could almost feel his blazing eyes scorching her skin, as they followed the path of his hands, until he reached her arse and squeezed it roughly in his grasp. She squealed in suprised and almost stumbled against him, as he pulled her closer and pressed his lips just above the line of her sparse pubic hair.

“Ye divine, mo ciad-bhean.” He whispered against her skin making her heart jump and her breath stuttered in her chest. She had to tightened her hold on him to keep herself from falling, when he moved lower and gently kissed her clitoris.

“Jamie.”

“Ssh.” He hushed her as he stood, scooped her up into his arms, and made his way over to the bed. “I canna love ye like I want to, lass, but what we can do, I plan to make the most of. An’ I think yer of the same mind.” He breathed as he grabbed the towel she’d brought and threw it onto the bed.

She flushed, embarrassed that he’d seen it, but held his eyes and nodded as he lay her carefully in the centre of the bead. With her head resting on the pillows, and her body displayed before him, he learnt over and pressed his lips lightly to hers.

“I want to feel every inch of ye skin next to mine.” He whispered as he ran a fingers gently down the length of her thigh. “I want to watch it flush as ye find ye pleasure. To have ye muscles clench around my fingers, and feel ye wee hand wrapped tight around my cock.”

“Shit.” She breathed, shivering as her whole body erupted in goosebumps. The room was warm, but she trembled uncontrollably, and she was desperate to feel his arms around her. To anchor her to this time and place before she lost herself completely.

But he moved away, stood at the side of the bed, and slowly reached for the buckle of his belt. She’d seen him naked before, but it was a fleeting glance, and as he dropped his kilt to the floor, she got her first good look at him in all his glory.

There were just no words for how magnificent he really was. He was tall and broad, with golden sun kissed skin, and muscles covering every inch of his body. His stomach was toned and flat, his thighs, like his arms, were powerful and strong, and his cock…God help her…his cock was long, thick and terrifying. As he turned to grab something off the table, she shakily raised her hips and arranged the towel beneath her. She hadn’t planned on being completely naked, she thought she’d keep her knickers on to help them resist temptation. But now she was, she was grateful that she’d thought to bring it, beacuse from the sounds of things, they’d need it.

She shivered again, and reached for him as he climbed onto the bed and stretched himself out beside her. He was so beautiful, so perfect, that she could hardly believe he was hers. Her husband, her lover, her soulmate. But he was, and as he rolled her onto her side to face him, she had to fight to hold back her tears.

“Yer tremblin’, lass.” He crooned, as he pulled her against him, and wrapped her tightly in his embrace.

“I can’t help it.”

“Ye ken, i’v realises somethin’s missing.” He whispered, taking her hand and kissing it, before laying it gently over his heart.

“What?”

“This.” He murmured unfolding his hand and producing a beautiful sliver ring. The thought of a ring had never entered her mind, and she gasped in suprise, and pulled back so she could see it properly.

The sides were cut away, creating the delicate outline of soft Scottish thistles, and the patten rose along the setting to a perfect round amethyst at the centre. It was so gorgeous, so unique, that she’d never seen anything like it.

“Yer my wife, yer should be wearin’ my ring.”

“Jamie, it’s so beautiful.” She whispered, as he took her left hand in his and slid it carefully onto her ring finger. It fit perfectly and the stone glistened in the soft candle light as she reached over and touched his face. “Thank you.”

“Yer welcome.” He smiled softly as he ran his hand gently up her arm, around her shoulder, and down her back, where it found its favourite place on her arse. “Do ye ken how much I love ye?” He whispered as he pulled her closer.

“As much as I love you.”

“Ah, Claire.” He groaned quietly as he tilted her head and captured her lips in a soft gentle kiss. It was so slow, so sweet, and all consuming, that she could feel it’s warmth spread right through her body, to the very centre of her soul.

Her fingers found their way up into his hair and she dissolved completely in his arms, as he wrapped them tightly around her, and pulled her trembling body flush against him. Tiny sparks of electricity shot across her skin as it made contact with his, and she came alive with a quiet hum of desire.

Their kiss deepened, turning hungry and desperate as his hands roamed across her body, lighting her up from the inside, and making her mewl and writh with unrestrained pleasure. Slowly, gently he moved them around her arse, along her waist, and over her ribs, until she arched against him, encouraging him on to her breast.

Her hands tightened in his hair, and as his tongue twisted and danced passionately with hers, his fingers rolled and pinched her nipple. Teasing. Pulling. Stoking. Over and over. Driving her to the brink of madness, before he cupped her breast and massaged it firmly in his rough, strong hands.

“Jamie.” She panted, throwing her head back as his lips moved from hers, across her cheek, to her neck and around to her ear. He bit down on it lightly, and tugged sharply on her nipple, making her convulse in his arms and thrust her hips against his, searching for friction.

They were tempting fate enough being naked together, so as much as she wanted to throw her leg over his and grind herself against his cock, she couldn’t. She was so aroused that she’d sure he’d slip right in.

“Please.” She begged helplessly, as he moved lower, and his mouth and teeth found the nipple that his fingers weren’t torturing. “Shit.”

“Ah, Christ.” He groaned against her skin, as he pushed his weeping cock against her stomach, flexing and rolling his hips, as his fingers traced lower and came to rest against her sex. “I want ye.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

She wanted him too.

More than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. More then air or water or chocolate.

She mewled quietly and parted her legs, making room for his hand, as he slipped a finger down to her opening and gently eased it inside. Her own hands weren’t still, they roamed along his back, around his firm arse and back up, again and again. But as she ground down against his hand, whimpering in pleasure, she moved it lower and wrapped her fingers around his cock.

His breath stuttered in his throat, and he bit down hard against her nipple, making her cry out, as she pumped him firmly. His movements encouraged hers as he thrust his finger in time with his hips, and she moved along the length of him. Twisting her hand at the head, and spreading his pre-come down along his shaft.

The heel of his hand was grinding against her clitoris, driving her closer and closer to the edge as his finger brushed against her g-spot. He didn’t even know it even existed, but Jesus Christ he’d found it, and as he massaged it firmly she could see black spots and stars behind her eyelids.

“I’m gonna come.” She whimpered as her toes curled and she arched towards him, thrusting her breast further into his mouth. Her hand moved faster, pumped him harder, and his deep low groan spread lightening through her core and she exploded into a million pieces in his capable hands.

“Oh, fuck…Jamie.” She cried out, as a tidal wave of pleasure rushed through her body, going on and on and on as she pulsed around his finger.

“Sweet, Jesus!” He hissed, removing his hand, and rolling her quickly onto her back. “God forgive me…I canna…” He begged helplessly as he parted her legs and slid his long, hot body between them. “I need to feel ye.”

His cock was right there, gliding smoothly against her sex as he rolled his hips and surrounded her with the weight of his body. One arm hooked under her shoulder, and the other slipped between them, to wrap around his cock and position it at her entrance.

“Jamie wait…please…please wait.” She begged, stilling his hand and freezing him in place. Her heart was going a mile a minute, and she was still lost in the fog of her own orgasm, but she couldn’t let him do something he might regret.

“Have I hurt ye?” He gasped breathlessly, his beautiful blue eyes swirling with worry and lust as they locked on hers.

“No, no.” She whispered, shaking her head as her hands came up to cup his handsome face. “I want you, so much, but you have to be sure this is what you want. It will break my heart if your regret it.”

His eyes softened and as his hand moved to her arse, he lent down and pressed his lips softly to hers.

“I could never regret lovin’ ye, mo gràdhag.” He whispered as he slowly rolled his hips and eased the tip inside. She tensed at the intrusion, and saw her own pain reflected in his eyes, as he pulled back, and pushed further inside her.

He thrust again and again, going deeper and deeper with each gentle movement, never once breaking eye contact as she surrendered her body to his. As much as she tried to, she couldn’t hide her wince as her hymen tore and her muscles stretched to accommodate him.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed as he pulled her closer, held her tighter. “Just keep still, I promise it’ll be over soon, mo gràdhag.”

Her heart shattered for him and she almost burst into tears. He had such a gentle soul, and she could see in his eyes how much he wanted this, needed it, and hated it just the same. What had he suffered that made him dread a moment that should be filled with nothing but love and pleasure?

Tenderly, she wrapped her arms under his, and gripped on to his shoulders, holding him as tightly as he was her. Yes, he was big, and it hurt, but it wouldn’t last, and there was no way she was letting him think she didn’t want this as much as he did.

Or that she was suddenly scared of him and hated his possession of her body.

“It better not be.” She whispered as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and rolled her hips up against him.

His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat, as he gazed down at her in astonishment. She smiled up at him and threaded her fingers in his hair to pull him down for a deep, intoxicating kiss. “Now, make love to me, husband.” She panted as she pulled back and scraped her nails along his scalp.

“Ah, Claire.” He nearly wept as he shifted his weight and thrust in firmly, all the way to the hilt.

Jesus Christ that fucking hurt!

He was so big that pain lanced through her core, and she almost bit though her lip to hold in a cry, as she arched up against him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” She promised quietly, as she moved against him and lowered her hands to his arse, encouraging him to move. “Don’t stop.”

She needed him as desperately as he needed her, and despite the pain, she rose up to meet him again and again and again. It was both heaven and hell, as he thrust into her, rolling his hips and losing himself within her.

They never looked away, never closed their eyes. They were simply lost in the moment together, whispering soft words of love, as they shared their bodies and exchanged their souls.

They let the passion take them over. To guide their bodies as their lips met and he moved within her, wrapped in her embrace. He was so big, she could feeling him pushing up against her cervix with every advance, and each time he did, lightening shot through her core, sending her lightheaded and dizzy with bliss.

It hurt, God did it hurt, but she didn’t care. She was right there with him. Raising and falling with his body, touching him, kissing him, losing herself completely as he gripped her arse tightly, and groaned with each careful thrust.

“More, please, Jamie, God please more.” She begged as her nails dug into his flesh and she arched up against him. Through the pain she could feel the tell tale signs of a deep burning pleasure, that promised to send her flying into space, and she chased it, gripping onto it as tight as she did him.

“God, Claire, ye slay me.” He moaned as his thrusts became harder and faster, until his hips were slamming against hers, and he was forcing her small body down into the bed. She cried out with each powerful movement and clung to him, holding his arms, and his eyes as he ploughed into her, fucking her into oblivion.

“Yes…yes! Oh shit, don’t stop…please...I’m gonna...”

“Jesus Lord, I canna…Christ, Claire…I need to…” He groaned as he push up into her, grinding against her clitoris, thrusting against her g-spot, and sending her hurtling over the edge. His body jerked above her, and as her muscles clenched and spasmed around him, he shuddered and came deep inside her with a harsh cry of rough, carnal pleasure.

He’d never imagined that taking a woman could be as exquisite as it had been with Claire. They’d been one heart, one soul, joined in more than just body, and for the first time in his life, he’d lost himself completely. With her gentle encouragement, and soft words of love, he’d let his mind go free, and allowed his pleasure to out-weight his fears.  

He’d already been teetering on the brink, tempted to have her regardless of the consequences. Since that moment in her rooms at Leoch, he’d been neigh on desperate to take her, to pummel her depths and claim her as his own. He’d needed her like air, and it had only been his fears, new and old, that had stopped him at the lake.

But then his beautiful wife had asked him to make love to her and he’d refused. He’d let his fears come between them once again, and the disappointment in her eyes had cut him to the core. But like always, she’d accepted his limitations, and done what she could to reassure him despite her own sorrow. Yet, he’d still let his past rule his present, and Claire had been paying the price for a woman long dead.  

Though still shrouded in guilt for his own carnal needs, in the end, when she’d fallen apart in his arms, he’d been powerless to deny them what they so badly needed.

And he couldn’t regret it.

She’d been right there with him. Rising and falling in time with his thrust, calling his name breathlessly, and crying out in pleasure. He’d hurt her, of that he had no doubt. He’d seen it in her eyes. But while that knowledge pained him, he couldn’t regret that either, because through that pain, she’d become his.

And she’d enjoyed it.

The deep, wild love that they’d made had pleasured her as much as it had him.  

Just the remembrance of her tight clenching muscles, and her desperate cry of exaltation, had new sparks of lightening striking deep in his stomach. His hips jerked against hers, and she gasped, spasming around his softened cock.  

“Jesus, Claire.” He groaned, as he gripped her hair and pulled her head back. She looked up at him, her swollen lips parted, and her eyes hooded and wonton with desire. “I canna get enough of ye.” He growled as he claimed her lips and thrust further into her depths.  

She whimpered, and tensed in his arms, and he froze.

“It’s okay.” She whispered against his lips, attempting to reignite the flames, as she rolled her hips against him. But his hand clamped down on her arse, stilling her movements, and he pulled back to look down at her.

“Nay, t’is not…”

“I’m fine.”

“No, Claire, ye not.” He insisted pulling her head further back. “Christ, I can tell well enough that ye in pain.”

“Jamie…”

“Hush.” He ordered gently, as he moved his hips and slipped out of her. She winced, and he raised an eyebrow as he moved his hand up to cup her face. “Ye hurtin’ an’ ye dinna need to hide it because ye fear my reaction. I was there with ye, Claire. I saw ye pleasure. Hell, lass, I felt it. So I canna doubt that ye enjoyed it.” He whispered as he brushed a lock of hair off her face.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh, ye’v nothin’ to be sorry for. This is my fault, t’is I who’s sorry. I’v let my past control our future, an’ I shouldna have. But I was afraid.” He admitted, as he lent to gently kiss her forehead. “Afraid of hurtin’ ye, afraid of losing ye, and afraid of ye fearin’ me.  

“I shoulda trusted ye. What’s between us is different. Yer different, an’ I’m different with ye. But by being afraid, I have made ye fear me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” She protested vehemently.

“Aye, ye are.”

“I’m not…”

“Claire, ye constantly fearin’ my reaction.” He argued. “Ye worried that one wrong move will send me runnin’. Ye wouldna told me of the blood oath if ye didna have to, an even when ye did, ye took the responsibility for my actions. Then, although ye wanted it yerself, ye tried to stop me from takin ye because ye feared I’d regret it. An’ now that I have, ye hiding ye pain because ye fear my response.

“It canna go on, Sassenach. Ye’v made me happier than I’v ever been in my life. Ye my wife an’ I want to spend my life lovin ye an’ raisin’ a family with ye. So no more fears. We’re in this life together, an’ I willna continue let my past create a chasm between us.”

“You’re right, but I’m not blameless, Jamie. I should have trusted you as well, and I’m sorry.” She whispered, as she ran her hand across his shoulder and up into his hair. “I love you.”

“As I love ye.” He smiled, “Now, tell me. Are ye in pain?”

“A bit…okay a lot.” She amended, blushing, when he raised his eyebrow again. “You are bigger than average, you know, and for a first time, that’s a lot to take.”

“Aye, I ken.” He smirked flashing her a wink. Men weren’t exactly shy when it came to pissing or bathing, so he’d seen enough cocks to know he was well endowed.

“Cocky bastard.” She laughed, slapping his arm. “You weren’t exactly gentle either.”

“An’ who’s fault is that? I seem to remember ye beggin’ for more.”

“Yeah, I’m a regular Oliver Twist.”

“Who?”

“What? Oh my God!” She gasped sitting up and wincing as she stared down at him wide eyed... and naked. “Oliver Twist hasn’t even been written yet! Or Great Expectations, or Pride and Prejudice, or Dracula…Christ, I could make us a fortune, I’v got some of them on my phone! I should totally rewrite the Harry Potter books...”

“Are ye really talkin about books, when ye lyin’ naked in my bed?” He growled, grabbing her waist and dragging her back down. “With ye breast right there beggin’ to be…”

“Yes…and…oh...” She squeaked when he lent down and bit her nipple. “Ah…Jamie.”

“Aye, that’s more like it.” He murmured against her skin, before soothing the stink with his tongue. “Now tell me…ye reached yer pleasure twice. One straight after the other.”

“That’s not a question.” She smirked, tilting her head back as his fingers replaced his lips on her breast.

“How?” He clarified, pinching her nipple, and almost feeling her gasp in his awakening cock. “The ache of wantin ye hasna left me, an’ I could take ye again now. But if I’d reached my pleasure in ye hand, like ye did mine, I couldna have taken ye then.”

“Call it an unfair advantage.” She moaned, as he twisted and pulled at her pebbled flesh. “Woman don’t need…ah, God, Jamie…we don’t need recovery time…Jesus ah…”

“What do ye need, lass?”

“For you to stop teasing and to make me come.”

“Come where?”

“Nowhere…Christ…make me come, it means make me orgasm…to make me find my pleasure.” She explained haltingly as she writhed on the bed beside him.  

“Mmm.” He hummed storing that away for further use, as he twisted her nipple again.“Ye like this?”  

“God yes! Don’t you?”

“I dinna ken.” He shrugged as he let his fingers begin a slow trail down her stomach. Nobody had ever touched him like Claire did, he’d never felt a woman’s embrace as he took her.  

Annalise had lain like the dead, with her hands and legs flat on the bed, clutching the sheets and screwing her eyes closed.  

She’d never been a part of it with him.  

Not like Claire had.

“Then we’ll have to find out.” She whispered, sobering slightly at his admission.  

“Aye, I suppose we will.”

He smiled at her, then looked down to follow the path his fingers were taking. But as he got to her naval he stopped and slowly drew them back up her body.

Shit.

It was no wonder she was in pain.

There was blood, and a fair amount of it, on her inner thighs and hip where his hand had held her. It was on his legs too, as well as his hardened cock, and around the edges of his nail.

She’d warned him that, with her courses, making love in the bed would be messy, and he truly wasn’t bothered by the sight. He’d seen enough blood in his time to be immune to it. But that didn’t make the sight any less alarming.  

The fact that his cock looked like it had been massacred, was bad enough. But to see so much blood coming from his wife was horrifying.  

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before leaning down to kiss her lips tenderly. She’d explained this to him, told him the whole process of a woman’s cycle. Of how and why a woman bled for five days and didn’t die.  

And he’d promised her, not ten minutes ago, that he would let go of his fears, and he would.  

It was perfectly normal, he reminded himself. Natural even, and he wouldn’t be alarmed by it. It was just her body’s way of expelling what she didn’t need, and preparing her to receive his seed. If she didn’t bleed again in twenty eight days, it meant she was carrying his bairn.  

She wrapped her arms around him, deepening the kiss, and he let her, as he reached blindly onto the bedside table and retrieved the wet rag. It was cold, but it would have to do until he could get her in the bathtub.  

He placed it between her legs, shushing her, and moving his lips to her neck, when she startled.

“Let me take care of ye.” He whispered against her throat as he gently cleansed her skin and the apex of her thighs.  

“You didn’t have to…”

“I know. I want to,” He breathed, as he lifted his head to look down at her. Almost losing himself a over again in her whiskey eyes. “You’re my wife, Claire, t’is my job, and my privilege to care of ye. When ye ready, there’s a bath waitin’ for ye…”

“How?”  

“I told the lasses to draw it for ye while ye were changin’.”

“You dear, sweet man.” She whispered, her eyes glistening with tears as she reached up and cupped his face. “Thank you, so much.”

“Ye welcome.” He smiled, before looking away to clean off her hip and to drag the rag over himself.

“Will you join me?”  

“In the bathtub?”

“Yes.”

“Aye, if you’ll have me.”

After giving strict instructions that she wasn’t to move from his bed. Jamie made his way towards her dressing room, and knocked once on the door to ensure the lasses has left. With no sign of life, he depressed the latch and walked in.  

It was warm, maybe too warm, with the roaring fire and the billows of rose scented steam rising from the water. But it was perfect, Maggie had done exactly as he’d asked.  

He’d not bathed in a tub with anyone since he was a wee lad and had to share the water with Willie. But he’d been intrigued by Claire’s suggestion, and having expected a relatively chaste wedding night, he’d wanted to do what he could to make it special for her.

And he knew well how much she loved the water.

The shutters had been drawn for privacy, making the room cosy with naught but the light from the fire, and the few candles that had been left lit on the walls. As requested, a decanter of wine and two glasses, sat on a small round table next to the tub, and he smiled when he saw them.

Maggie was discreet, but that simple request was bound to have tongues wagging below stairs. His request for daily baths had caused a few raised eyebrows, but now they knew he would be sharing them with his wife, and thescandal would have them entertained for months.

He laughed, not in the slightest bit bothered. He loved his wife, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. His people would know that well soon enough.  

Satisfied that the water wasn’t too hot, and all was as it should be. He flipped the lock on the servants door, and returned to retrieve his bride.  

“Ah, so ye can do as ye told.” He smiled as he made his way over to the bed and scooped her up into his arms. She came willingly, with a soft sigh as she laid her head against his chest.

“On occasion.”  

“When it suits ye, ye mean.” He laughed kissing her forehead.

“Mmm.”

“Ah, Sassenach.” He sighed, as he stood her by the bathtub and pulled her naked body against his. She looked up at him, her eyes warm and her smile soft, and he couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her lips. “What ye do to me.”

“I can feel what I do to you.” She murmured, trailing her hand slowly down his chest and stomach until she brought it to rest over his cock. It twitched in her hand, and she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him softly as she awakened his desire.  

“I beg of ye, lass.” He groaned, digging his fingers into the flesh of her arse. “Dinna start what ye canna finish, I’v only so much restraint, an’ I dinna want to hurt ye.”

“Who says I can’t finish?” She winked, as she released his cock and stepped out of his arms.  

“Ye dinna seem to be finishing anythin’.” he complained, trying to grab her hand back as he gestured to his weeping cock. It was nigh on painful, his need for her to keep touching him, but seeming oblivious, she simply smiled and turned to dip a rag into the water. “Claire...”

“I’ve not even started yet, My Lord.” She all but purred, the sudden huskiness to her voice making him shiver with need, as she dropped to her knees before him.

“What are ye doin?”

“Cleaning you up.” She whispered, licking her lips, and drawing the warm wet cloth up the inside of his thigh.

Dear God above.

She was trying to kill him. She kept her dark, hooded eyes locked on him, gazing up at him through her long eyelashes, as she folded the rag over his cock. His hips jerked, and a low groan built it his throat and brushed past his parted lips. It wasn’t the wet heat he wanted to feel, but Jesus Lord it felt good.  

She took her time, cleaning him throughly, and driving him half insane. When she gently eased back the skin, and wiped the cloth around the bulging head, he couldn’t take any more. His bollocks were aching, and if she didn’t stop he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.  

“Enough.” He growled, stilling her hand as his heart pounded erratically somewhere near his throat. “I canna take much more, lass.” Her lips twitched and she dropped the rag before wrapping her wee hand around the shaft. “Claire…”

“Sshh.” She breathed, as she rose higher on her knees, bringing her eye level with his cock. “It’s my turn to take care of you.”  

He was seconds away from forcing her to stop, or begging to lie back and spread her legs. His mind was so clouded in lust that he didn’t know which, but before he could decide, she moved forward and ran her tongue along the length of his cock.  

“Claire…what are ye…”

“Ssh.” She murmured again before wrapping her lips around the weeping head and drawing him into her mouth.  

“Jesus Christ.” He cried as lightening shot through the base of his spine, jerking his hips and making his whole body erupt in goosebumps. “Claire…lass…shit.”

She hummed around him as she worked her hand in time with her mouth. Sucking, pulling and twisting over and over as she massaged his length with her tongue, and danced it around the head. He was blinding by stars, and too overcome with awe and pleasure, to even think about stopping her.  

He’d never felt anything like it in his life, he was in mind numbing bliss, and without though, his hand went to the back of her head and he buried his fingers into her hair. He could feel her sharp nails digging into the flesh of his arse as she pulled him towards her, encouraging him to move.  

With what sanity he had left, he tensed his muscles, locking himself in place, least he thrust forward and hurt her. But she growled, her dark eyes hungry and begging, as she scrapped her teeth along his cock, and he was lost.  

His hips shot forward, pushing his cock further into her mouth, making her moan and her stretched pink lips to tighten around him. He gripped her hair harder and thrust against her, again and again going deeper and deeper with each shallow movement.  

He was in heaven, with white hot flames burning under his skin, tightening his balls and pulling him closer and closer to the inferno. He wanted to close his eyes, to throw his head back and roar with pleasure, but he just could not take them off her.  

She looked sublime, and the utter bliss and triumph in her eyes, was only fueling his need.

She moved her hand and placed it with her other on his arse, helping him move until the tip of his cock was thrusting against the back of her throat. Her muscles contracted, gripping his cock so tightly that he cried out and pushed in further, making her gag.

“Christ…I’m sorry.” He panted, pulling back until his cock slipped out of her mouth.

“No.” She begged, wrapping her hand around it again, and pumping it firmly as she drew him back towards her lips. “You have no idea how…God Jamie…I want you too…please do it.”

“Lord God, lass. Ye slay me.” He groaned pushing back in though her parted lips, all the way to the back of her throat. She gaged again but her eyes begged him not to stop, so he tightened his grip and thrust forward.  

He’d already been so close to to edge, but as she swallowed and moaned, licked and sucked at the thick shaft of his throbbing cock, he lost all control. His balls pulled up, and his movement turned jerky and rapid. He was close, so very close.  

“God, Claire…I canna stop…” He cried thrusting in as deep as he could. All his muscles contracted, and he groaned long and low as he twitched and released his seed down the back of her throat. “Argh Christ!”

She swallowed around him, over and over, taking everything he’d given her, before slowly slipping his cock out of her mouth.  

They were both breathless and panting, with their hearts pumping wildly and their eye locked. He fell down to his knees before her, and pulled her shaking body into his arms.

“I’ve never…Lord I thought my heart would burst.” He panted, as he kissed her head and ran his hands smoothly up and down her back. “Are ye well? I dinna hurt ye?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” She promised as she wrapped her own arms around him. “That was the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Aye. I canna argue with ye there.” He laughed, kissing her again and moving back sightly to look down at her. “Now come, lass. Before the water gets cold.”

Since entering the parlour this morning she’d been drowning in a maelstrom of emotions. Anger, jealousy, amusement, rage, arousal, embarrassment. She’d been pulled in every single direction. So, when he all but threw her onto the floor and demanded she do as she was told, she’d completely lost her shit.

And she shouldn’t have.

He’d been through so much, and not all of it because of Jenny. He was still attempting to overcome his fears. To bury his past and move on into an unknown future with her. But with jenny blowing it back in his face every ten minutes, it was hardly surprising that he was acting like a crazy, possessive fool.

She’d never say that Jamie had been in the right, because to her he hadn’t been. It was her body, and as far as she was concerned he had no say in what she did and didn’t do with it.

But there in lay the problem.

That was her opinion, and while that would be the only thing that mattered in 2018, it didn’t matter at all in 1743.

She could ask any man, woman or child, from here to Lands End, and they’d all tell her the exact same thing. She was Jamie’s wife, and by law she belonged to him, mind, body, and soul. As far as he, and everybody else would be concerned, he had every right to tell her what she could and couldn’t do.

She’d seen it with Jenny, and she’d had no problem with it whatsoever, simply because she felt she’d deserved a good hiding. But turn the tables on her, and the double standards had come pouring out.

She hadn’t been bothered by his rough demand for sex. Jesus, she’d been almost proud of him after his fear the night before. The look in his eyes when he’d promised her it would be over soon, had completed shattered her heart. He’d wanted, needed, to make love to his wife, yet he’d hated himself for it.

But in the parlour he’d had enough faith in their relationship to know that he’d be welcome inside her body. He knew that she’d enjoy it, and she had no doubt that she would have. His possession and coercion had really turned her on, and if she could have, she would have surrender herself to him completely.

She didn’t want him to be always asking her permission. She wanted the spontaneity and the foreplay that came along with it. But she also wanted the comfort of knowing that she could say no at any time.

By law, and by the morals of the people and the time she was in, she had no right to say no. He could take her whenever, wherever, and however he wanted her. She was his wife, legally his property, and there was no such thing as rape in marriage.

There wouldn’t be until the late twentieth century.

But even when he’d been so desperate for her. When he’d been so lost in pain, and had craved the solace of her body, he would have stopped. He’d asked her to say no, and if she’d said it, that would have been it.

It was the reason for her refusal that had shocked him, and he’d lashed out horribly.

By her standers anyway.

But by his, he’d done nothing wrong.

They’d been brought up in different centuries, and had vastly different concepts of what was right and wrong. They both had their own expectations and, while Claire felt that he was the one in the wrong, Jamie would think she was.

It wasn’t a simple case of stubbornness or a petty squabble about who put the rubbish out, and who fed the cat. To make this marriage work they would have to bridge a cultural gab of almost three hundred years, and find a way to compromise.

But like it or not, unless she was going to leave him and attempt to return home, Claire was going to have to accept some hard truths. This wasn’t the twenty first century, and her husband wasn’t a twenty first century man.

He was an eighteenth century highland warrior.

And she honestly didn’t want him any other way.

“Ye tearing’ my heart out, lass.” Jamie whispered, his quiet, unexpected voice making her startle as he crept up behind her. He was stood so close that she could feel the heat radiating off his body, but he didn’t touch her, and she didn’t turn around. “I’v been too scairt to blink, least ye saddle ye horse an’ escape while I’m no lookin’.”

“Do you really think I’d leave you?” She whispered back, as she lifted her head from Brimstone, and stood up straight. She wanted nothing more than to lean back against him, to feel the comfort of his embrace. But until she knew where this was going, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

He sounded calm enough, but it could simply be the quiet before the storm.

“I wouldna blame ye if ye did.” He sighed, “I shouldna have tried to force myself on ye. I wasna thinkin’ clearly.”

She took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself, and clear her mind. She hadn’t expected this. After the way she’d spoken to him, she thought he’d be ready to strip the skin of her arse.

That was the real reason she was still out here. He was so much bigger than her, and if he tried to belt her, she wouldn’t be able to stop him: nor would she be able to forgive him. It could create a huge chasm between them that neither would know how to bridge, and she was scared to death of discovering that their differences were too vast to over come.

They needed to talk, to attempt to find a balance between their expectations, but it was so much easier said than done. She’d come here with at least a basic knowledge of how things worked. She’d read booked, seen movies, and studied history, yet it was still difficult for her to actually understand and accept his mindset, and the limitations that would be put on her.

But Jamie didn’t have that privileged. He had absolutely no idea what it was like to live in the future, and she didn’t know how to explain it to him in a way that he’d understand. Christ even in 2018, there was still a generation of women that had lived, and still did live, under the control of men.

With a deep sigh she turned around to face him. He looked so desolate, so guilt ridden that she almost said fuck it and just fell into his arms. But she couldn’t, because if she did, they’d only end up right back here before too long.

“We need to talk.”

“Aye. But no here, I think the staff have had enough entertainment for one day, an’ I promised ye a walk.” He held out his arm, and after a brief pause, she placed her hand on it and let him lead her away from the pasture.

They were silent as they strolled along the path, each lost in their own thoughts and neither knowing where to begin. They’d talked of so much in the short time they’d known each other, and Claire knew almost everything there was to know about him. But did he really know her?

She wasn’t a big sharer, but she was married now, and if they had a hope in hell of making it work, she would have to start talking.

“I am sorry, Claire.” Jamie breathed, as he guided her to a stone bench, some distance from the house, and helped her sit.

“I know you are, and so am I. I shouldn’t have yelled at you the way I did. But you’re apologising for the wrong thing.”

“No, ye shouldna have.” He agreed as he sat beside her, and took hold of her hand in his. “But that doesna mean that I didna understand why ye did it.” He admitted quietly. “Yet now I’m no so sure, as ye tellin’ me ye were yellin’ for reasons I dinna ken. So, tell me, lass. What should I be apologisin’ for?”

She sighed deeply and stared off blindly into the distance as she attempted to order her thoughts. The note of frustration in his voice had given her fair warning to tread lightly. He was contrite now, but he was like a bear with a sore foot, and it wouldn’t take much to push him back over the edge.

She’d had her first glimpse of his temper, and she really didn’t want it aimed at her full force.

He was an intelligent man, very intelligent, she couldn’t deny that. But he was also a product of his time, and explaining even the basics of women’s rights to him, could be like explaining Einstein’s theory of relativity to a toddler, and she didn’t want to sound like she was patronising him.

Especially when he wasn’t in the best of moods.

“God, this really isn’t easy you know. I’ve been stood out here for over an hour, trying to order my thoughts, but I’m a walking contradiction.” She huffed in annoyance. “Everything I think to say has its own caveat, and I don’t know how to explain myself with confusing you more.”

“Start with why ye were yellin’ at me an’ we’ll go from there.”

“It wasn’t because you wanted to have sex, I think you know deep down, that I wanted it as much as you did, otherwise you wouldn’t have taken it so far.” She reassured him as calmly as she could. “It was because you tried to tell me what I could and couldn’t do with my own body. You practically declared it your own property.”

“There was no practically about it, Claire. Your body is my property, you are my property.” He answered with a shrug, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

She turned on the bench so he could see her face clearly. He had to know how serious she was about this. Yes, she enjoyed his dominance, but she wasn’t his slave.

“No, Jamie, I’m not.” She explained slowly, clearly, squeezing his hand in hers to attempt to soften the blow. “I’m your wife, I love you and I want to share my body with you, but it’s still mine to do with as I please. I’m still my own person.”

“I ken that ye’v got a mind of ye own, Claire, an’ that ye an intelligent woman. But as ye pointed out, ye my wife, so whether ye like it or no, ye are my property.”

“I know it won’t be easy, but you have to at least try to understand where I’m coming from. I’m trying to see it your way, Jamie, I really am. But I grew up in a time where women aren’t seen as property, and they’re not controlled by men.” She pleaded.

She was hoping to God that he could find a way to meet her in the middle. She had no idea what she would do if he didn’t, and the thought of losing him over this terrified her.

“It’s a time where everything is equal. If a man abuses a women, emotional, physically or sexually, he will go to prison. It doesn’t matter whether she’s his wife, his daughter, his sister or a complete stranger. And the same applies to women who abuse men. No…” she added quickly when he gaped at her in alarm. “I’m not saying that you’ve abused me, because you really, really haven’t. I’m just trying to find a way to explain it to you.”

“I ken that. But while it maybe the case where ye’r from, ye no in that time anymore, ye in this time.” He told her gently, although she could still hear a tinge of exasperation in his voice.”I apologised for forcing myself on ye an’ I meant it. I respect ye, and I love ye too much to ever hurt ye like that. I ken what we have is special, an’ I dinna want ye to ever fear me comin’ to ye bed.

“Ye ken well that I couldna bear it.

“But make no mistake, lass. Had I been of a mind, I’d have been completely within my rights to fuck ye six ways till Sunday, right there on the floor.”

Her traitorous hormones had her lower belly flip-flopping like crazy, as he fired her words back at her in his deep husky voice. She was livid with herself, and with him. He wasn’t making an effort to even try to understand, and while she was almost wracking her brains to come up with an analogy he could relate to, her body was betraying her.

All she could suddenly think about, was him throwing her down and taking her on the grass. How in the hell could she expect him to understand, when she didn’t understand herself.

She was so fucking confused.

Screaming silently in her mind, she threw her hands up in frustration and stormed away from the bench.

“See! This is what I mean about a caveat.” She growled as she turned back towards him and poked him in the chest. “You’re making me crazy! The way you completely took control of my body, the way you spoke of me belonging to you, and would have taken me there and then, the way you say things like that…God, Jamie, it turns me on and pisses me off! I wanted you to do it… I still do, and I can’t stop thinking about it!”

“I’m makin’ you crazy?” He huffed, as he grabbed her hand off his chest and pushed to his feet. “I canna win! Ye say ye dinna belong to me, that I canna control ye, but yet ye enjoy it when I make ye feel like ye do? Ye canna have it both ways, Claire. Ye either mine or ye no.”

“I am yours, I do belong to you. But you don’t own me. There’s a difference!”

“If there is, I canna see it.”

“Do you belong to me, Jamie? Are you mine?” She asked, as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him. His brows were furrowed, his lips pursed, and he was holding onto his anger by a thread.

“Of course I’m yers.”

“And do I own you? Do I have control over what you can and cannot do with your body? Can I take a strap to your arse if you do something to piss me off? Can I order you about and force you to have sex with me any time I want?”

“Aye.” He smirked suddenly as his eyes dropped to her heaving breast. “Any time ye like, Sassenach.”

“I’m being serious!”

“As am I.”

“Jamie!” She growled, stamping her foot like a child.

“Fine, no, ye dinna own me, an’ I take ye meaning.” He nodded decisively as he reached towards her and unfolded her arms. “But that dinna change the facts. Whether ye like it or no, I do own ye.”

“On paper, maybe. But not in day to day life. Here, now, we need to find a compromise, because I’m not a slave and I won’t be treated like property.” She huffed, attempting to free her arms from his grasp.

“Other then today, when have I ever treated ye like ye are?”

“You haven’t, but as we’ve only been married a day, that doesn’t give you a very good track record.”

“So ye want a compromise? Fine.” He growled, dragging her to him by her hands. She fell against his solid body, and he trapped her swiftly in his hold. “I’ll no attempt to tell ye what ye can and canna do. Yer a bright lass, an’ unless ye prove otherwise, I’ll trust ye no to do anythin’ stupid or dangerous.

“In return ye’ll no undermine my authority in public. They’ll be times that I have to give ye orders, and I’ll expect ye to comply without argument. I no have people thinking I let my wife run wild.”

“Okay.” She nodded, relieved that they were finally getting somewhere. “I can agree to that.” In a way, it was something she’d already promised him off her own back. That first night when she’d sworn to behave as she should so as not to embarrass him.

“I also promise to never force ye to accept my attentions. Ye’ll always have a right to tell me no, without justification. But ye have to swear to me that ye will. I dinna want to ever find that I took ye when ye didna want it.”

“I promise.” She whispered, as she raised her hands to lock them around his neck. “I would never do that to either of us.

“Good. But as yer part of the compromise, ye need to accept that if ye ever break ye promises. If ye ever put yerself in danger, or do anything stupid or reckless, I will discipline ye and ye’ll accept it.”

“Umm, no!” She huffed, attempting to pull away from him, but he tightened his hold and kept her in place.

“Yes.”

“I will never let you hit me with your belt!”

“Then I suggest ye behave and I willna have to.”

“I’m not joking, Jamie.” She cried indignantly. “Corporal punishment is illegal!”

“Maybe where yer from, but it isna here. So, watch yerself, Sassenach.” He laughed as he pulled his hand back and slapped her smartly on the arse.

Though the layers of her dress and petticoats she really didn’t feel it, but she still gaped up at him, eyes wide and completely shocked.

“Did you really just slap my arse?” She fumed indignantly as she pulled out of his arms and step away.

The cheeky bastard will pay for that.

“Aye. An’ we’ve no time for ye to chastise me for it, the dressmaker will be here soon.”

Dressmaker?

What dressmaker?

“Fine!” She huffed, glowering up at him as she struggled to keep her laughter in check. “But in future, please try to wait until I’m naked. That type of behaviour should be reserved for the bedroom, My Lord.” His jaw dropped and she winked at him, as she turned and rushed off towards the house.

The issue with the belt still hung between them, but aside from that she was satisfied. They’d found a compromise, and if she was honest, it weighed heavily in her favour.

But until they could resolve their differences with the discipline, she’d just have to make sure not to do anything stupid.

Lord God help him.

He wanted her.

He wanted to bury himself so deep inside her, that they wouldn’t know where one of them ended, and the other began. He wanted to take her body and make it his own. Gently. Violently. Lovingly. Completely. He wanted to hear her cry out in pleasure, and feel her warm, wet, muscles clench around his cock like they had his finger.

With a deep groan of carnal need, he deepened the kiss, exploring the warm caverns of her mouth with his eager tongue. She whimpered, clutching his arms tighter, pressing her body closer. In response, he tightened his grip on her plump, juicy arse, and buried his free hand in the riot of curls atop her head, sending pins scattering to the ground around them.

A rough throat clearing, and quiet laughter, pierced through the thick vale of lust, and he all but growled out a curse against her lips. But as he pulled back and looked down at his dazed, blushing bride he couldn’t fight his smile. She was so unbelievably beautiful. With her hooded whiskey eyes, tear stained cheeks, and bee stung lips, she was a vision to be remembered forever.

“Are we really married?” She whispered, the wonder in her eyes betraying her awe. “Just like that?”

“Aye, just like that.” He whispered back as he cupped her bonny face in his large hand. “Yer mine now, mo gràdhag.”

“I’ve always have been yours.”

“Yet, there’s the small matter of a fine to pay, an’ a register to sign before ye da arrives.” Murtagh grouched from beside them.

“Way to ruin the mood, Murtagh.” Claire huffed playfully as she pulled out of his grasp and turned to face his Godfather. Jamie laughed despite his frustration, and unwilling to lose contact, his hand rose to the small of her back. “Congratulations would have sufficed.”

“My apologies, My Lady Lorne…”

“Oh, fuck…I mean shit, crap…oh God help me…I forgot about that!” She gasped her whole face on fire as she stared up at Jamie, clearly mortified, but utterly ignorant to the laughter that bust to life around her. She looked completely stricken, and he bit his lip in a vain attempt to hide his own laughter.

“Ah, lass. Never change.” He begged helplessly, as he pulled her against him and allowed her to bury her face in his shaking chest.

“God, I’m so sorry.” She muttered from her hiding place. She was so mature, so intelligent, and so seemingly confident, that it was easy to forget just how young and innocent she really was.

She was like a wild, ivory rose. A sapling so strong and resilient, yet so beautiful and fragile, that the desire to nurture her, to watch her grow and bloom under his care, was impossible to resist. She was so new to this place, to this time, and this way of life. But when her roots were firmly anchored, when she grew into her surroundings, and realised what she could do?

Then she would be magnificent.

“Ssh, dinna fash, Sassenach.” He soothed, his humor failing the the wake of her embarrassment. “I canna deny that I’m no pleased that ye forgot.”

“What? Why?” She asked raising her face to look up at him. “God, Jamie! I love you, I want you, I married you. Not your name, not your title. Whether you were king of the land, or a wanted outlaw with a price on his head, I’d have married you just the same.”

“I ken that, lass but it doesna mean I’m no touched by the reminder of it.”

“Then I’ll remind you everyday. Because you’re the best man I’ve ever known, James Fraser, and for that reason alone I’m proud to call you mine.”

“Oh, it does me old ‘art good, it does, young Willie. I’d never thought I’d see the day.” Mrs Bissett cried reminding Jamie that they weren’t alone, an issue he planned to see rectified quickly. Before Jenny found out and all hell broke loose on their wedding night. “Now run along an’ tell ye mam quick like. We’ve a new lady, an there’s sure to be a celebration afore to long.”

“As soon as His Grace arrives.” Jamie confirmed with a nod, looking away from his bride for the first time. Willie bowed to the new couple, and with a heart felt congratulations, he took off running across the garden, hell bent on sharing the news.

“Ye Mackenzie bloods showin’ ye crafty wee bastard.” Murtagh laughed, as he patted Jamie roughly on the shoulder. “But I couldna be more proud if ye were me own. Ye’ll make a formidable pair.”

“What do you mean?” Claire asked, looking between the men, before setting her eyes on Murtagh.

“With the witnesses he’s got every corner of his land covered.” He laughed, slapping Jamie again before snatching his brides arm and leading her back towards the house. “Mrs B in the house, Geordie in the stables an’ down the pub, an’ Willie an’ his mam…the town criers. They’ll no be a soul that dinna ken we’ve a new lady by night fall.”

Claire turned back to look at him, and he winked, earning himself an adorable giggle before she turned back to his Godfather.

“Any other nefarious tendencies I should be aware of?”

“Oh, Aye, I’v plenty of tales that I’ll have ye hair turning grey…”

“An’ yet I think ones enough before she’s even signed the register.” Jamie jumped in quickly as he lifted her away from Murtagh before they could cross the threshold, and planted her before him, wrapping his arms tight around her waist.

“What did I say about heavy lifting?” She scolded, turning her head to frown up at him.

“Christ, Sassenach. Me arm itself weighs more that ye do.” He scoffed rolling his eyes. There was nothing to her, save her luscious ass, and heaving bosom. Both of which he planned to lift plenty in the night to come.

Whether he could plough her depths or not.

“So, you’re a tenacious, stubborn Scot with a crafty side and a tendency to over exaggerate?” She asked, raising that irresistible eyebrow. Teasing him, tempting him.“It’s a good job you’re a married man, because your Tinder profiles not looking too hot there, William Wallace.”

“What does being married have to do with starting a fire?”

“What? Oh God.” She clasped a hand to her mouth, hiding her snort as she burst into laughter. “I’m sorry…Never mind…forget I said anything.” Her words were choked out and barely audible, as she attempted fruitlessly to bring herself under control. “I’m sorry, I think all the excitements gone to my head.”

“I think ye fit in just fine as ye are.” Murtagh chuckled, not immune to her charms. “Welcome to the family, lassie.”

“Thank you, Murtagh. For everything.” She smiled, sobering slightly as she squeezed his hand, and turned her cheek to accept his kiss.

“Ach, away wit’ ye.” He huffed, back to his gruff self as he waved her away and strode from the room.

“Are the rooms ready, Mrs B?” Jamie asked as he moved around to Claire side and clasped her hand in his. She linked their fingers together and squeezed gently, just as she had on the pass. It was the small things she did, the warm, affectionate gestures that moved him to the core.

A squeeze of her fingers, a shy loving smile, a gentle brush against him arm. All reminding him that she was there, close by, and that she loved him. He’d never experienced anything like it, never seen someone so open with their emotions. Even his mam, who loved him well, hadn’t been one to coddle or display her feelings.

But Claire? Christ, he hadn’t been touched or embraced so much in his whole life as he had since meeting her.

“Aye, Milord. An’ I’v told the girls ye no to be disturbed…by anyone.” She nodded sternly. “So they willna come unless ye ring down, an’ Jonny’ll keep watch from the end of the hall.”

“Thank ye, Mrs B.” He smiled, before leaning down and scooping Claire up into his arms. She squeaked in surprise, making him, and his retreating housekeeping, laugh joyously as he stepped into the house.

“Jamie! Put me down before you hurt yourself.” She ordered, clinging to him and attempting to ease herself down.

“Ach hush, woman!” He growled, tightening his hold and making a beeline for the stairs. “We canna have ye trippin’ over the threshold, t’is bad luck.”

“It seems we’ve passed that point already.”

“Aye. But I find I like ye just where I’v got ye. There’s no escaping now, Sassenach.”

“As if.” She scoffed, winking up at him before snuggling against his chest. “I may just have you carrying me around like this all the time.”

After making a brief stop in her room, her old room that is, to unearth her bags from their hiding place. Jamie once again lifted her into his arms, and carried her along the hallway to the masters suit. If she’d expected it to be anything like the soft, beautiful chamber she’d been assigned, she was vastly mistaken.

He set her down at the foot of the bed and stepped back, allowing her time to look around in awe. Where the other room had been light, with its cream painted walls, large Persian rugs, and billowing ivory curtains. Jamie’s room was darker, more masculine and completely him.

The rough stone walls and wooden ceiling had been left natural and bare, with a huge iron candelabra hanging from it rafters. The ginormous bed, like all of the furniture, was made from heavy, sturdy oak, and was framed by heavy golden drapes, tied neatly to its posts. A selection of comfortable leather armchairs and a coffee-table, sat before a massive fireplace, with roaring flames dancing in its hearth.

“Will ye be happy here, do ye think?” He asked nervously, surprising her with his sudden shyness, as he took both of her hands in his and squeezed them gently. He was trembling, and the apprehension in his eyes almost broke her heart. This poor, dear man had lived a life of loneliness and pain, but it was over now, and he needed to understand that she was never leaving his side. “If ye’d rather keep ye separate rooms…”

“No.” She told him firmly, guiding his arms around her waist, and stepping into his embrace. “It’s perfect, and if you think for one minute that you’ll ever sleep alone again then you’re in for a rude awakening, husband.” She whispered, as she tenderly cupped his face and lowered it towards her own. “You’re mine, as much as I’m yours. So lock the door because I don’t plan on letting you out of our room for some time to come.”

“Ah, ye slay me, wife.” He breathed, closing the distance between them, and capturing her lips with his own.

She whimpered at the first contact, as lightening fizzled in her lower belly, and she all but fell into his arms. He wound them tightly around her, and clasped onto her arse, pulling her ever closer as his tongue sought her own and she surrendered it gladly. The kiss was deep, passionate and hungry with their desire for more, as their hands roamed and clothing was loosened.

She could feel his cock, hard and ready, pressed firmly against her stomach, and her inner muscles clenched in response, desperate to feel his intrusion. She wanted him with an urgency that boarded on insanity, and just knowing they’d have to wait was agony beyond her wildest imagination.

She needed him to own her, to posses her, to take her with every ounce hunger he felt. She was so close to giving in, to saying fuck it, and letting him have her. She already needed a shot of penicillin after the blood oath, so what would it really matter? But he slowed the kiss and dropped his head to her shoulder, and clarity infused her lust addled brain.

She was on her period.

Damn fucking Mother Nature to the fiery pits of hell!

“I’m so sorry.” She panted, winding her fingers into his hair, and holding him against her as he shuddered in her arms. “I want you, too. I wish…”

“Ssh, lass.” He whispered rising his head, and pulling her snuggly against his chest. “We have the rest of our lives, an’ for now I’m happy to have ye here, in my arms where ye belong.”

“I love you.”

“As I love ye.” He whispered, kissing her forehead and slowly releasing her. “Come, lets get ye settled an’ then we can eat.” He smiled, taking her hand and leading her to door in the corner of the room. “Ye’v yer own dressin’ room though here.” He told her, pushing open the door and stepping back to let her through. “Mines on the other side of the room.”

The first thing that caught her eye was the large wooden bathtub positioned beneath the window and covered in clean white muslin. It was honestly the last thing she expected to see and she turned around and gaped up at him.

“Dinna think I hadna noticed ye propensity to bathe, Sassenach.” He laughed as he followed her into the room. “Ye spend more time in the water than the fish.”

“You did this for me?”

“Well ye canna bathe in the streams forever.” He shrugged as a light blush tinged his cheeks, “The weather will be cool in’ soon enough. I figured ye’d enjoy the warmth.”

“Jamie.” She breathed stepping back towards him and pushing up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “You never cease to amaze me. Thank you so much…but how will we fill it?”

“Ach, we’ve enough hands around the place to bring up the water. An’ the lasses ken to heat it up before ye wake in the mornings.”

“It looks just about big enough for two…” she hinted, as she ran her hands down his chest and attempted to temper her excitement. She’d had an idea, and although she was embarrassed to suggest it, if he agreed then their wedding night wouldn’t be as…chaste as she feared.

“T’is.” He breathed stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m an early riser. Are ye prepared to wake so early that I could share it with ye?”

“Always.” She whispered gliding her hand up over his shoulder and into his hair. “But I was wondering how much trouble it would be to fill it now?”

“Now?”

“Yes. It’s not perfect, but in the water there would be no…mess.” She blushed, trying desperately to keep her composure as she attempted to seduce her husband. She was mortified, but she ached for him, and she didn’t want to wait almost a week to be able to have him.

And she wasn’t on that heavily.

“No mess?” He frowned, having absolute no idea what she was getting at. “I dinna ken what ye mean, Sassenach. But if ye want a bath then by all means I’ll have the lasses draw ye one…”

“Jamie.” She shushed him, as she placed her fingers over his lips. “What I want is to be your wife in every sense of the word. I don’t want to wait to become yours completely. In the water we’ll stay…clean.” It took him a moment to follow what she was saying, but the moment he did, his eyebrows shot so high that they almost blended with his hair line.

“Ye want to…in the bath…while ye…how? I mean, t’is no so big that ye can lie down, ye’d drown if ye could…an ye courses…”

“There are other ways…other positions,” She explained quickly, unsurprised by now that he didn’t know. She doubted he’d had the chance to explore them before. “But I understand if you don’t want to, maybe it was a stupid idea. Even in the water there would be some mess…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have suggested it, you must think I’m awful…”

“Hush now.” He crooned, rubbing her back, and pulling her closer against his chest. “I dinna think any such thing. I’m no squeamish or put off by a bit of blood, lass. Lord God, I’d take ye now, in my bed if ye allowed it. But I dinna think we could while ye had them, an’ what of the…syphilis? I willna risk ye, Claire, no matter how much I want ye.”

Well shit!

She hadn’t wanted to tell him, knowing full well that he’d kick himself in the arse. But if she wanted him, now, tonight she didn’t have a choice. It was either lie, say she’d forgotten about it and call the night a bust. Or tell him the truth and do what she could to ease his fears.

And she wouldn’t start her married life by lying to her husband.

“Jamie. I’m treating you for it as a precaution.” She sighed, pulling out of his arms and leading him to back in to the bedroom. She pushed him gently down onto their bed and he complied, grasping her hips as she moved to stand between his legs. “But if, on the off chance, you have got it, then there’s a slight possibility that I could have it too.”

“What? How? We havena…”

“The blood oath.”

“Ah dia!” He hissed, tightening his hold on her as he lost all the colour from his face. “Christ, I’m so sorry, Claire. I dinna think…I should have kent…how can ye ever forgive me?” He cried, releasing her and twisting to grab her bag. He’d snapped it open before she could stop him, and was fumbling with the small case that contained the penicilin. “Which do ye need?”

“Ssh, it’s okay.” She whispered, taking the case from him and placing it carefully on the bed. “I’m fine, Jamie.” She soothed, taking his face in her hands and raising his haunted eyes to hers. “Like I said, I really doubt that you’ve ever had it. You said yourself that you’ve never had any symptoms. If you’d have missed the sores, there is no way you would have missed the rash. But on Friday, when I give you your last dose, I’ll take one myself. That way we’re covered and neither of us will be the worst for wear.”

“You’ll need three. So, why no take it now?” He begged, reaching for the case again.

“I’ll need one, not three. You only need so many because it could have been in your body for so long. Even taking it on Friday, I’ll be killing it off before it’s had time to develop. And besides.” She whispered, as she moved closer and brushed her lips against his. “I want to make love to my husband on our wedding night.”

Chapter 22

Then she’d noticed wee Jamie, and as she stood looking at him, reason had penetrated the fog of her mind and she’d clenched her jaw tight against the words dying to pour out. The poor baby had seen more than enough, and she needed to do something to put a stop to it. But short of snapping him up and marching into the house, she had no choice, she had to enter the fray.

She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself enough to speak rationally, and looked back up. The two Fraser sibling were still stood toe to toe, glaring at each other, one shrouded in hurt and anger, the other in righteous indignation. If she’d been about to go nuclear, it was nothing compared to what was brewing between the two of them.

Just the thought of coming between them was enough to have her praying for her life. But she was the only adult here that seemed to still have an iota of sense left. So she took another deep breath for courage, stepped around Jamie and placed a gently hand on his arm.

“Jamie?”

He didn’t move, it was as though he’d completely forgotten that she was there. But Jenny did and her hate filled eyes snapped to Claire’s so quickly she thought her head would spin.

Linda Blair eat your heart out.

“Dinna even think about it!” Jamie growled in warning, his voice so cold that it sent a shiver down the back of her spine. “Ye dinna speak to her. Ever.” Jenny turned quickly to look back up at him, and clenched her fists around the letter.

“When ye minds bein’ controlled by ye cock, yer in no place to tell me what I can an’ canna think, James Fraser.” Jenny spat back as she took a step closer to him. “So get this Sassenach hoor off my property afore I give ye one less brain to think wit’.”

“I think we’ve established who’s property this is, Janet Murray so be mindful of how ye speak of it’s future mistress, ye wee bitch.”

“Jamie…” she tried again, one eye on the fight and one on the small boy that had fallen onto his bottom as his mother moved.

“I’m the mistress of Lallybroch…”

“Like hell ye are…”

“Jamie?”

“…an’ I willna have ye stray harlot an ye wee bastard bairn…”

“…ye run the house cause ye asked to stay on when da left. But no more…

“Jamie, stop.”

“…usurp my position an’ run it into the ground. She’s no but a child…”

“Oh for God sake!” Claire growled, giving up on the feuding pair and crouching down to wee Jamie. “Come here, sweetheart.” She cooed quietly, scooping the little boy up into her arms. She almost wept along with him when he buried his head in the crook of her neck and held on tight. “It’s alright. Ssh.”

She was a complete stranger, yet he was so scared he’d come to her without question, and she needed to get him away. Holding him close, she rubbed his trembling back and covered his ear with her hand, as she stood and turned to walk towards the house as fast as she could. If they wanted to kill each other, fine, but she wasn’t letting the baby witness it.

“Get ye rancid hands off my boy, ye Sassenach bitch!”

“No.” She called back calmly, not even bothering to look behind her as she passed through the garden gate, and across the driveway.

There was a whole load of vitriol that she planned to lay at Jenny’s feet. There was no way on earth that she’d ever let her get away with the shit she was spewing. If it wasn’t for wee Jamie she’d have done it there and then, because she’d had enough. But right now the scared little boy was her priority.

“If ye lay a finger on her, I’ll flay ye alive.” Jamie hissed, his dangerous voice much closer than it should have been. Brian had warned her of his temper, but in truth she hadn’t really believed him. Other than the small incident with the mug, she’d seen no sign of it.

Now that she had, she made a mental note to try and stay on his good side. Because she had no doubt that before the end of the day, Jenny would see the strap.

Hitting a man, woman or child went against everything she believed it. But her twenty first century morals meant nothing here, where belting and flogging were the norm. So no matter how much the thought turned her stomach, it was the reality, and something she was going to have to get used too.

“Get off me, ye bastard, afore I tear ye bollocks off.” Jenny screeched, pulling her back from her thoughts.

“What the hell is goin’ on?”

Claire froze at the bottom of the steps and looked up at the man that held his position at the top. He was tall, almost as tall as Jamie, but not nearly a big. He had dark brown hair, tied low at the back of his neck, and deep set dark eyes that moved quickly between her and what was happening behind her.

“Ye damn wife’s lost her mind.” Jamie growled as he passed her and mounted the steps, dragging a thrashing Jenny by her arm. “If ye dinna skin her arse, Ian, be sure that I will. The wild bitch dinna ken when to keep her trap shut.”

“I’ll keep my trap shut when ye learn to keep yer cock in yer kilt!” Jenny spat back as she turned in his grasp, drew her leg back, and booted Jamie in the shin. He growled out a Gaelic curse and shoved her towards Ian who clamped his own hands around her arms.

“Janet Murray!”

“That’s enough!” Claire shouted finally reaching the end of her patience. Three pairs of eyes shot to her, and she squared her shoulders and looked up at them, still attempting to sooth wee Jamie. “If you two want to kill each other, fine, go ahead I won’t stop you. But right now there’s a baby boy scared half out of his wits. So until he’s out of hearing range, show some maturity and shut the hell up.”

“I couldna have said it better myself.” Murtagh said calmly as he appeared behind Ian and walked down the steps towards her. “I’m ashamed off ye, Janet, an so will ye da be when he hears.” He told her sternly as he plucked wee Jamie out of Claire’s arms and continued along the drive way. “We’ll be in the stables, an’ I suggest ye take yer conversation somewhere more private.”

“In the house, Jenny, an’ no another word.” Ian ordered, as he turned her towards the door and gently nudged her back. Jenny huffed, steam still pouring from her ears, and grabbed her skirts before marching into the house. Making sure to throw Jamie a death glare as she passed. “I apologize for my wife.” Ian said, as he turned back to face her.

Ordinary she’d brush it off and tell him not to worry, that it was okay. But it wasn’t okay. The pain in Jamie’s eyes, when Jenny had hurled her hurtful words, will haunt her for a long time to come. No matter how angry she was, it was cruel and uncalled for.

“It’s not your responsibility to apologize, and it’s not just me that’s owed an apology. But thank you.” She nodded, as Jamie held out his hand for her to join them. He was still murderously angry. So much so, that she could feel his hand trembling with the repression of it, as he wrapped it around hers and helped her up the steps.

“If ye hadna already guessed, this is my brother-in-law Ian Murray.” He introduced as he removed his hand from hers and placed it at the small of her back. “Ian this is Mistress Claire Beauchamp from Oxfordshire.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Murray.”

“Ye as well, Mistress Beauchamp.” He bowed politely, though his confusion at the whole situation was still clear on his face. Despite being in the middle of it, she couldn’t claim much clarity herself, so she just had to hope that Jamie would shed some light.

“Come, lass. Ye need ye rest.” Jamie instructed adding pressure to her back and guiding her through the doorway and into a huge hall. “I’ll see her settled an’ meet ye in the study, Ian.”

“Aye.”

Silently, he lead her further into the room, and as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Claire noticed an older, plump woman waiting patiently at the foot of the stairs. She was calm and serine, acting as though world war three….or one as it would be…wasn’t just breaking out at the front of the house. She curtsied when she saw Jamie and he drew her closer and stopped just a few feet away.

“Mrs Bissett, please show Mistress Beauchamp up to the ivory room an’ see her comfortable.” He instructed without introducing her. “Send Aggie up with water for her to wash up, an’ something to see her over ‘til dinner.”

“Aye Milord.” She curtsied again, “I’ll take care of er’ dinna fash. Come, Mistress, ye look dead on ye feet, ye do.”

Claire looked up at Jamie about to tell him that she was fine, that she didn’t need rest and that she wasn’t hungry. She didn’t want to leave him, not when he was clearly so upset, and what she needed was to be in his arms. But she could see from the look in his eyes, that now wasn’t the time. He needed to deal with the aftermath of hurricane Jenny, and he didn’t want her witness to it.

“Go lass.” He whispered, as he reached up and ran a finger softly down her cheek. “I’ll get yer bags and bring em up to ye.”

“Okay.” She whispered back as she offered him a sweet smile of comfort. I love you.

As I do ye. He mouthed back as he took her hand in his and pressed his lips to her palm in a lingering kiss. Then he closed her fingers around it and sent her on her way.

He watched her go with his heart still stuck in his throat, smiling at her softly each time she looked back, despite the seething anger that still raged in his guts. He’d never been so ashamed and embarrassed by anyone in his life.

Nor so proud.

Claire had composed herself like a true lady, but if he laid eyes on his foul mouthed sister before he’d calmed down, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

As soon as she disappeared around the corner, he spun on his heels and stormed back out to the gardens. He needed to collect her bags, make sure she was well, and then speak to Ian about his vapid wife. She was out of her damn mind if she thought for a second that there’d be no repercussions for her actions. With child or not, she’d pay dearly for the hurt and humiliation he’d seen in Claire’s eyes.

He was happier then he’d ever been in his life, and the joy of bringing Claire home for the first time had been unequivocal. She’d looked so beautiful stood on the mountain, gazing in awe at all that was to be hers, that she’d had neigh on stollen his breath. In that moment he’d have handed her the world, and he could hardly wait to get her home and introduce her to his family.

But in the first parting of her vicious lips, Jenny had erased all of that joy and expectation. He had no idea what his da had written in that letter, but it had been a red rag to a bull, and he wouldn’t stand for it.

Seeing the bags, he grabbed them off the grass and stormed back into the house. Ignoring the curious stares from the staff, he took the stairs two at a time and quickly made his way to her bedchamber. It wasn’t proper, and it was bound to start rumors but they wouldn’t be alone, and at the moment he really didn’t care.

His quick knock was answered by Mrs Bissett, and when she saw the bags, she stepped back and allowed him entrance. Claire was stood by the window, with the suns soft rays dancing on her skin, and highlighting the deep auburns in her hair, she looked almost angelic. But when she glanced up at him, her eyes bright with tears, he placed her bags on the floor and quickly crossed the room towards her.

“Hush, Lass.” He whispered, wrapping his arm around her, and pulling her against his chest. “Dinna weep, ye break me heart.”

“I’m so sorry.” She stuttered, swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. “I’m sure this is the last thing you need.”

“What I need is no matter.” He argued, tilting her head up so he could see her bonny eyes. “It’s what ye need that worry’s me. What can I do?”

“Oh, you dear, sweet man.” She whispered, reaching up to cup his face in both hands. “I need you to be happy. I’m not crying for myself, I’m crying because I’m so angry at the way she hurt you. So please, don’t worry about me, I’m in good hands with Mrs Bissett. So, you go and do what you need to do and I’ll be here when you need me.”

“What did I ever do to deserve ye?” He breathed as he brought her close and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Ha, you say that now!” She laughed, flashing him a cheeky wink, as she straightened herself up and took a step back. “Just wait until it me at the wrong end of your wrath. You’ll be cursing the day you met me then.”

“Never.”

“We’ll see, my Lord.”

“Minx.”

“Aye.” She drawled in her terrible Scottish accent. He laughed and brushed a lock of her long hair out of her eyes, before stepping back and walking away.

“I’m still in the frame of mind to belt someone, ye ken.” He called over his shoulder as Mrs Bissett quickly moved out of his way and opened the door.

“You’d have to catch me first.” She sassed, blowing him a kiss as she made her way towards the bed and sat down. Just seeing her there on the soft mattress, surrounded by the ivory sheets and billowing curtains, was enough to send his blood running south.

He wanted noting more than to take all his anger, all his pain, all his love and to lose himself completely within her. He couldn’t wait much longer without losing his mind, or taking her regardless and damning the consequences.

“I already have.” He told her, flashing her a wink of his own as he walked from the room. “A moment, Mrs Bissett.” He asked, drawing the housekeeper into the hall.

“Milord?”

“She’ll need a selection of clothin’ an’ such. Take em from my mam’s chest. As much as she needs, an’ send a note to the dressmaker in the village. I want her here tomorrow.” He ordered. “I’ll spare no expense.”

“Aye, Milord.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling with merriment, “She’s to be the new Lady, aye?”

“God willin’ Mrs B.” He nodded and turned towards the stairs and what awaited him in the study.

He caught young Rabbie MacNab coming in from the kitchen, and scaring the poor lad to death, he ordered his presence in the study. Ian was stood by the fire, leaning on the mantle, will a glass of whiskey in one hand, and his head in the other. He felt much the same, and he nodded to him briefly before sat to pen a quick note. Sanded, folded and sealed, he sat back in his chair and motioned the pale lad over.

“See this note to Father MacBride at the kirk.” He instructed, handing the letter over to the lads keeping. “T’is important, ye ken. It goes to him an’ no-one but. Wait as long as ye need, then come back, an’ they’ll be a shillin’ in it for ye.”

“Aye, Milord. Thank ye.” He bowed, near bouncing on his heels, eager to be away.

“Good lad. Be gone wit’ ye.”

Rabbie shot out of the door like his arse was on fire, and Jamie sighed as he pushed up from his chair and made his way over to the decanters.

“So ye to marry again?” Ian asked as he moved from the mantle to take a seat before the fire. Jamie could feel his eyes burning into his back, and he just hoped Ian would be more understanding than his sister had obviously been. He was in no mood to battle with his friend as well.

“I’v no asked her yet, but, aye. God willin’ she’ll be me wife as soon as the banns are read.” He nodded, before downing his drink and topping off his glass. He’d need more than one to get through the rest of the day.

“Ye da said she’s a healer.”

Surprised by his knowledge, Jamie turned quickly to see Ian holding up the letter that had so enraged Jenny. He moved forward and set his drink down, before he snatched the letter out of Ian’s hand, and sank into the chair opposite him.

“Aye, she is. An’ a damn fine one too.” He told Ian with pride as he shook the crumpled paper out so he could read.

Jenny my dear,

Due to matters arising at Leoch, and a joyous event yet to take place, I’ve sent your brother home early from his planned trip to Beauly, without him once having set foot on the estate.

Lacking your brothers much desired attention, the castle will remain in dire need of repairs and a collection of rents that remain long overdue. So, I ask, my dear, that once the bairn comes, and you are fit for travel, that your Ian takes up the office in Jamie’s place and sees the tasks complete.

The trip will give you an opportunity to see more of the world beyond Lallybroch, and your brother a chance to honeymoon at his own home in tranquility with his bride to be.

Ah yes, a honeymoon. The mention of it brings me to the point of Mistress Claire Beauchamp. A wonderful young lady from England, trained in the arts of healing, and skilled in the task of drawing the long lost light from your brothers eyes.

Since witnessing her care and talents in the treatment of illness and injury, I have secured her services to aid you in the birthing chamber. I have no doubt in my mind that we will be leaving you in good hands, as we enjoy our whiskey in the peace and quiet of your brothers study.

I will be journeying to Lallybroch myself in hopes of staying to welcome two new members to our small family. But first, I must see the captured Captain Jonathan Randell esquire, to the gallows at Fort William.

You should take time to ask your new sister-to-be how that event came to take place. For it’s a shocking and amusing tale, that the man still bears injury from.

I must leave you now, but I do so with a final request.

We both ken well how rumors and spite can easily destroy the reputation of a young lass. Away in London as he was, your brother was spared that painful knowledge, and the new couple have a tendency to forget themselves easily.

So, I ask that you and Ian take up the role of chaperones until my return, and see no harm befall our dear Claire.

I will be with you soon, my lass, but until then I remain

Your loving father.

Brian Fraser

“What happened when I was in London?” Jamie asked, looking up from the letter to stare at Ian. He’d heard nothing of any ill befalling Jenny, but at the time he heard naught of anything but his own sorrows.

His friend shrugged and knocked back his drink, before raising to pour another.

“Ach, t’was somethin’ and nothin’.” He sighed bringing the decanter back with him and topping up Jamie’s glass. “Martin Mackimmy followed Jenny into the barn. T’was for no reason other than to help her carry the milk, but Blair Twaddle saw and caused a right raucous in the village. Claimed the newly minted Lady Janet a fallen woman.

“Her reputation was in tatters, an’ she refused to wed me for fear of bringin’ me down with her. No one of her friends stood by her, an’ they werena at the Kirk when she did finally agree.”

“And yet she loudly and viciously slanders Claire, out in the open for all and sundry to hear? Even after readin’ what me da wrote?” He seethed screwing the letter up in his hand and throwing it against the wall. “I’m sorry Ian, but I have verra little sympathy for her at the moment. An’ if she’s done any damage to the lass, I’ll no see her set foot in Lallybroch again after ye leave for Beauly.”

“I canna say I blame ye, brother.” Ian huffed as he slouched back down in his seat. “I dinna understand what’s gotten into her. No that she’s a placid lass, like, but she shamed us both today, an’ i’ll see her dealt with, dinna worry about that.”

“See that ye do, ‘cause so help me Ian, I’ll belt her myself.” He warned holding Ian’s eyes as he took a drink. Ian nodded and Jamie slouched back in his chair and closed his eyes, wounded and drained. “Claire’s no a lass to speak in haste, but when she’s got her mind right, she’ll have a thing or two to say herself, ye ken.”

“An’ are we to stand back and watch the fireworks?”

“Aye, I think she deserves her say after listening to such insults.” He sighed, part dreading and part anticipating the inevitable showdown.

“Fair enough. Now tell me how ye happened to meet her. She’s a long way from home, no?”

Ye have no idea, brother.