#melodyheart

Ellen patted her hand. "He's worried ye havenae eaten at all these past few days. That's no' good for the baby, dear. We have to try to get some food into ye."

"I can't stomach any food, but I've been keeping myself hydrated." Claire pointed at the mug of herbal tea and a couple of bottles of mineral water she had nearby. "I think the baby is a picky eater."

"Weel, I believe the problem is that Jamie hasn't been giving ye the right food, and I'm here to sort that out."

"You don't have to do that," Claire almost wailed out loud, not wanting to impose. "How about you write down what I need, and I'll sort it out myself."

Ellen tutted and shook her head. "I figured ye might say that. Ye're just as stubborn as my offsprings, if not more, when it comes to getting help. So ..." She clapped her hands on her thighs. "Brian is out and about doing errands, and since I have nought to do until later this afternoon, I thought I'd make myself useful here." Standing up, she placed her hands over her hips and looked Claire over as if trying to determine what task to tackle first. "First, I need ye to get up and take a shower," she ordered. "Yer bedsheets need changing, and that top ye have on looks it could do with a wash."

"But ..."

"Nae buts, young lady. Chop, chop ...up ye go."

Claire tilted her chin in defiance and was about to protest some more when something made her stop. She noticed the stern expression on Ellen's face and had a brief glimpse of what it would have been like to grow up with a mother. Realising there was no room for argument when the Fraser matriarch made up her mind and set her foot down, Claire clamped her mouth shut. Though Ellen was the gentlest and kindest soul, unfortunately, she could also be like a dog with a bone whenever it suited her. Too weak to argue, Claire got up in a huff and stomped off to the bathroom.

When she was done taking a shower, dried herself off thoroughly and put on a fresh nightshirt, she opened the bathroom door to find Ellen fluffing her pillow. 

Ellen patted the bed. "Now that ye're all nice and fresh again, ye can rest a wee bit more while I sort out some food," she announced, pulling back the sheets.

Suddenly feeling exhausted all over again, Claire could only nod her head and crawl back under the covers. The moment her head landed on the pillow, she fell once more into a restless sleep.

Somewhere at the back of her mind, she knew Ellen was buzzing around the cottage, cleaning up and cooking up a storm in the kitchen. A couple of times when Ellen had woken her up to make her sip soda water mixed with grapefruit juice, Claire had attempted to send her home, which had been, of course, a futile endeavour. She had to admit, though, it felt good having someone else there with a mother's touch to take care of her. Jamie had always done a great job tending to her needs, but the way he constantly worried, hovered about, and over-fussed drove her crazy. Ellen knew exactly what to do and never had to ask every few seconds if she was alright. It was as if she had everything under control. But Claire wasn't surprised at all. After raising three children, running a large manor and managing rental cottages on the side, taking care of a sickly pregnant woman had to be child's play for Ellen.

Sometime near early afternoon, she woke up to Ellen walking into the bedroom with a tray of food. Her stomach grumbled for the first time in days when she caught a whiff of chicken broth. She immediately sat up and fixed the pillows behind her back.

"Ah, nice to see some colour back in yer cheeks," Ellen observed, placing the bed tray over Claire's lap. "Now, let's get some food into ye. This should do ye a world of good."

Claire looked down at the bowl of clear broth and a plate of saltines. She waited for the wave of nausea to hit her, but when none came, she relaxed and smiled. "Thank you so much. It smells wonderful." 

"Ye're welcome, dear. I've taken out the wee bits in the broth to start ye off and get yer tummy used to eating again," Ellen explained, grabbing the empty mug and bottles from the bedside table. 

Claire hummed happily as she slurped the broth from her spoon. "Mmm ...this is so good. Jamie has made me all sorts of food, even my favourites, but I can't seem to keep them down."

"The trick is to eat bland food, and wee meals spread throughout the day. And always keep saltine crackers with ye and nibble on it once in a while. It has sodium bicarbonate that should soothe the tummy acids."

"I should have taken the time to read about morning sickness and what food to eat," Claire said in between bites of the cracker. "I hope this will do the trick. Otherwise, I have to get a doctor to put me on an IV drip if I don't get any nutrients into my body. At least, that's what Jamie told me."

Ellen nodded. "Aye, in a worst-case scenario, that's what would happen. But I have another thing in mind that should also help with the pregnancy illness. It helped a lot of the pregnant women folk around here."

Claire's curiosity was piqued. "Oh, what's that?"

"Have ye heard of Yi Tien Cho?"

"Yi Tien, what?"

Ellen chuckled. "Not what! Who! You probably have heard of him by another name. The folks around here call him Mr Willoughby."

Claire nearly choked. "The bloke with feet fetish?"

Ellen waved a hand in dismissal. "Mr Willoughby is a reflexologist, among many other things. That's probably where the feet fetish rumours come from. He runs a wellness centre and practices traditional Eastern medicine. Actually, I find his methods quite effective when it comes to treating many ailments." She leaned over and kissed Claire on the forehead. "Finish yer broth. We'll talk about it some more over a mug of herbal tea out in the garden so ye can have some fresh air about ye. And if ye're well enough, I'll take ye there later for some therapy."

Claire watched Ellen leave the room. She wasn't going to argue because already she was feeling so much better. She was willing to try anything once if it would help her get back on her feet. There were still so many things to do before the wedding. The sooner she was up and about running, the better.

..........

Jamie tugged a fresh shirt on and gathered his things. He was leaving work early even though he knew Claire would be miffed with him for coming home so soon to check on her. It couldn't be helped when there was always that worry about her and their baby slinking into his mind, distracting him while operating heavy machinery. Willie had already warned him that it wouldn't bode well for any of them if he had an accident for not concentrating. So Jamie had decided to call it a day.

He was about to slide into his vehicle when he heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel.

"Ah, there ye are, son! I've been looking everywhere for ye."

Jamie spun on his feet and saw his father walking towards him. "Da! What are ye doing here?"

Brian smiled, the lines on the corners of his eyes crinkling. Jamie had to pause for a bit to take in his father's likeness to his older brother in mannerisms and carriage. If his father hadn't spoken, Jamie would have thought it was Willie approaching at first glance. 

"I heard ye're done for the day. Fancy humouring yer auld man for a quick pint before ye head for home?"

Jamie ran a hand through his sweat-damped hair. "I'd love to, da, but I need to check on Claire."

Brian clapped Jamie on the back. "Yer ma has everything under control. In fact, Claire has eaten already and hasn't thrown up."

"Oh?" Jamie was surprised. He'd tried everything to make Claire eat, even preparing her favourite food, but she'd pushed everything away. He'd already thought about taking her to the hospital to get her into IV fluids and vitamin supplements. "How'd she managed to get her to eat?"

"Ach, ye ken well all about yer ma's trusted chicken broth. It has always done wonders whatever the ailment. If it's good enough for her bairns, then it's good enough for Claire."

Jamie suddenly perked up at the thought of Claire feeling better again. "Weel, all the more, I should head home." He felt like a selfish bastard for putting his needs before anything or anyone else's, but the ache in his balls from desperately wanting Claire couldn't be ignored. "I'm sorry, da. Maybe another time?"

Brian shrugged. "Up to ye, son, but ye'll be going to an empty cottage."

"And why is that?"

"Yer ma took Claire to that Oriental Holistic centre for some sort of wellness therapy that's supposed to help her with morning sickness. That's why I'm here asking ye out for a pint." Brian pulled out a flyer from his pocket and handed it to Jamie. "Ye ken Mr Willoughby, aye? He runs the place."

"Aye, Yi Tien Cho. Nice fella but always seems to be in a hurry to talk," Jamie replied. He read the advertising on a piece of paper and was astounded at the number of health programmes on offer. "They sure provide a lot of services in this wellness centre. Aromatherapy, ear candling, hypnotherapy, reflexology, to name a few." Then he laughed. "They even have Ayurvedic Kamasutra consultation as part of their sex therapy session. Now that's a first here in Broch Mordha."

Brian grinned. "Isnae Kamasutra all about the art of erotic."

"Aye, something like that. I think it's a Sanskrit text with some ancient Hindu teaching about sexuality and complex sexual positions."

"I cannae imagine Mr Willoughby giving lessons in Kamasutra," Brian said, shaking his head in amusement. "But dinnae fash, Claire and yer ma are no' there for Kamasutra consultation. They're there for ladies' afternoon."

Ladies' afternoon? Jamie flipped the other side of the piece of paper and went through the part he'd already read. "Ladies afternoon ye say?"

"Aye," Brian replied. "Yer ma likes to attend ladies' afternoon once a month. It's a creative activity group, and it's called art therapy or something like that. She says it suppose to expand her creative growth and promote stress relief and all that mumbo jumbo. She must have probably thought it would benefit Claire as well."

Jamie balled the piece of paper in his hand after he'd finished reading what the Ladies' afternoon entailed. He stared at his father in disbelief. 

"What? Why are ye staring at me like that for?"

"Christ, da! Have ye any idea what this ladies' afternoon is?"

This time Brian frowned. "What do ye mean?"

"Ye send yer wife ...m-my ma ...to a place where she could paint a bollock naked man? What the bloody hell has that to do with wellness and holistic?"

"What?"

Jamie glared at his father. "Aye, I thought so. Right this very minute, ma and Claire are staring at and painting a naked model's tadger. How could ye have not known?"

"Let me see that flyer," Brian demanded, holding out his hand.

Jamie uncrumpled the piece of paper and handed it back to his father. 

Brian skimmed through the flyer, and the more he read about what the Ladies' afternoon was all about, the bigger his eyes became. "Painting a nude man, if you tackle it, is a very fascinating subject, especially for a woman," Brian read the last bit out loud before throwing the flyer away in disgust, his face suddenly turning a dangerous shade of colour red. "I dinnae ken about ye, son, but I'm off to get my wife out of there."

"Aye, me too," Jamie agreed, sliding into his vehicle. "Ye take yer own car. Claire and I'll need our privacy on the way back home."

Brian nodded. "I'll meet ye there at the entrance."

"See ye in ten." 

Fuming, Jamie reversed his four-wheel drive and followed his father's car. He'd already decided there, and then there was no way was he going to allow Claire to stare at another man's naked bits. If she wanted to paint a naked man, by all means, but it would have to be his naked body and his cock. This was one argument he definitely wasn't planning on backing down from, come hell or high water.

..........

"...I was found early to have skill in composition ...to make the images of my brush resemble the ideas that dance like cranes within my mind. I became known as the fung-wong, a bird of fire ..." Yi Tien Cho delivered as he paced the small circular stage, mesmerisingly waving a stick in the air. The Chinese immigrant might be tiny in frame and stature, but his presence commanded the room with confidence and aplomb as he briefly spoke of an earlier time in his life.

Ellen looked at Claire and smiled conspiratorially. "Ye enjoying yersel'?"

Claire nodded and smiled back, feeling a million times better, her morning sickness almost a distant memory. She was only half-listening to Yi Tien Cho, more focused on the subject of their painting and the technique she wanted to use. Her mother's hobby had been painting, and Claire wanted to create something that would honour that memory. She glanced at the art supplies around her and realised she could use any medium she wanted and wouldn't be restricted to limited methods.

She loosened her shoulders and stared at the blank canvas before her, trying to summon memories of her mother. She took a deep breath, the air subtly smelling of burning incense stick as soft oriental music played in the background, helping her relax and focus. Even the voice of Yi Tien Cho was beginning to calm her, taking her to that place in her mind where creativity could spread its wings and take flight.

"Before picking up a brush, the most important thing to ask yourself is, 'What do I wish to convey?'" Yi Tien Cho emphasised. "Your answers will determine how you proceed and what you need to focus on the subject. So that said, we can continue to ..."

Unexpectedly there was a loud bang as the double doors flew wide open, hitting the walls and making Claire, Ellen and the rest of the group jumped up from their seats. To everyone's astonishment, two very annoyed Fraser males stood in the doorway, their faces red and eyes scanning the room.

"Ellen MacKenzie Fraser!" Brian bellowed.

A litany of colourful words came from Jamie the moment his eyes landed on Claire, making her and Ellen winced.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" she muttered, grabbing Ellen's hand. "What's gotten into them two?"

"Heaven knows, but I'll be smacking their addled heads any second now if they continue with this nonsense."

"Ahh, good afternoon, Mr Jamie, Mr Brian," Yi Tien Cho greeted, seemingly unfazed by the disturbance. "It is ladies' afternoon, but you are both more than welcome to join us now that you are here. We have empty seats here in front if you will take your place. And perhaps a cup of tea first to improve the flow of your chi?"

"There's nothing wrong with my chi!" Brian barked. "I'm here to take my wife home."

Yi Tien Cho smiled and nodded before turning his attention to Jamie. "And how about you, Mr Jamie?"

Jamie shook his head stiffly. "I'm sorry, but the only naked man my fiancée will be painting today is me."

Ellen gasped as the room erupted into a mixture of hoots and catcalls.

"W-what the hell are you on about?" Claire stammered, ignoring the howls and jests.

Jamie and Brian glanced at the stage and then stared at each other, unsure what to do or say next.

"Brian!" Ellen snapped, jolting her husband to look at her.

"Jamie?" Claire questioned more calmly than Ellen.

"I ...ah ... dinnae like the idea of ye looking at another man's..." Jamie shrugged, his eyes darting to the audience as if, for the first time, he just realised there was a roomful of people watching and listening.

"Another man's wot?" Claire looked back at the stage where the subject for today's painting stood, then back once more at Jamie. Then it suddenly hit her. "Are you trying to tell me you're bleeding jealous of a clay statue replica of Michaelangelo's David?" She blew out a breath in exasperation. "Jesus, Jamie, I was planning on painting the upper body because from where I'm sat, my view of the statue's cock is virtually nil."

Yi Tien Cho cleared his throat. "Umm ...Ms Claire, may I remind you, in this room, we call the male's genitalia phallus."

Claire glared at Yi Tien Cho, but before she could say anything, Ellen had already stormed off in the direction of the doorway.

"Now listen to me, ye giant clowns," Ellen began, waving a paintbrush at Jamie's and Brian's faces to the delight of their audience. "The both of ye are gonnae go home like good husbands and let us be to spend an afternoon of relaxation. Because if not ..." She tapped the brush on her husband's chest. "I willnae be coming home. And as for ye ..." She pointed at Jamie. "I'll come and stay in yer cottage for the night."

Jamie didn't need telling twice as he grabbed his father's shoulder and started to pull him away until they were out of sight. After Ellen shut the door, she turned around and smiled with glee. "So, where were we then?"

Grinning, Yi Tien Cho clapped his hands. "Alright, Mr Gordon. You may come in now," he shouted against his cupped hand.

To Claire's shock and the loud appreciative whoops in the room, a handsome man in his mid-thirties confidently walked onto the stage and dropped the sheets covering his body. The spotlight highlighted the carved muscles under his oiled skin, and the nude coloured briefs hugged the crucial bits, leaving the rest of his flesh proud and exposed. 

Claire watched in fascination as Gordon posed into his position, still wondering how this session could be considered remedial. But already, she could hear the sharp scratching sound on canvases as some began to make rough outlines for their painting while Ellen worked on which angle of their subject to capture most.

Claire leaned towards Ellen and spoke through the side of her mouth. "And how is painting a semi-naked man supposed to be therapeutic and help my morning sickness?"

Ellen smiled without looking at her. "Ye'll see."

With no choice but to go with the flow, Claire allowed the pull of the paintbrush to take over. For a while, she forgot everything else, engrossed with the lines and planes of the subject. She never painted like her mother, but occasionally, she dabbled with creating something with colours. This, though, was different. She'd never painted an animate object, least of all a half-naked man. The voyeur inside her broke free, and she had permission to trespass another person's privacy safely from a distance. She pushed the barriers away and forced herself out of her comfort zone to capture the perfect essence, and when she was done, she realised she was the only one left painting, and most had gathered behind her. 

Her audience complimented her as Ellen nudged her shoulder. "Ye've done a fabulous job. I didnae ken ye paint so well."

Claire plonked her paintbrush into a jar of water and sat back to look at her finished work. "My mum used to paint. I still have most of her stuff. I feel painting brings me closer to her."

"So ...how do you feel?"

"I feel good ..." Claire grinned, slumping into her seat. "...and so far, no nausea."

Her audience dispersed, and Yi Tien Cho appeared from nowhere. "Aah, very good to know, Ms Claire. I'm thrilled that this session has proven helpful to your condition."

Claire tilted her head back and looked back and forth between Ellen and Yi Tien Cho, still unsure how the sitting had helped her morning sickness. "But how can we be sure it's not the chicken broth I had earlier that helped with the morning sickness?"

"The chicken broth isnae an instant cure," Ellen pointed out. "The fact that ye havenae touched yer saltines since lunchtime and ye're no' feeling ill means the painting therapy worked."

"But how?"

Yi Tien Cho tapped the air with an index finger. "That, Ms Claire, was an example of mind over matter."

"Mind over matter?" Claire repeated, looking at him warily.

"Yes, it kind of works like meditation," he explained. "When ye're painting or doing something creative, you don't have an option but to disregard everything around you and use the right side of your brain ..." He tapped the side of his head. "...moreso when it's challenging and complex as painting a human form. You see, your right brain is the one that helps you relax and cultivate present moment awareness. When you are in that state, every aspect of you is calm and the hormones in harmony. And when everything is balanced within you ..." He clapped his hands in the air. "Voilà! Nausea gone!"

"As simple as that?" Claire queried, looking at him in fascination.

He scratched the top of his head. "It doesn't always work for everyone, but when that happens, we use other forms of therapies better suited for the individual's needs."

"Interesting," Ellen murmured, tapping her chin. "Maybe Brian and Jamie could use some of the therapies on offer here to exorcise their crabbiness."

Yi Tien Cho chuckled. "Already sorted, Ms Ellen. When you chased them away, my assistant caught up with them and offered them a Thai massage to help them relax. Both of you should come home to very pliant and obliging partners."

"How'd yer assistant persuaded them to have the massage?" Ellen asked curiously. "Dinnae ken about Jamie, but Brian is funny about strangers touching him."

Yi Tien Cho smiled broadly. "No need. The masseuses aren't only competent, but they're also extremely attractive and, how should I say ....exotic. Now which man could refuse ..."

Claire's head snapped up. "Come again?"

Yi Tien Cho's eyes widened as he realised his error. "It's not what you think," he said, raising both his hands, his one eye ticking uncontrollably. "Mr Brian and Mr Jamie remained fully clothed while the masseuse stretched them into poses until they found their release."

Release? Ellen and Claire looked at each other, and without missing a beat, they both started grabbing their things, muttering excuses about making dinner. Yi Tien Cho could only look on with dismay, wondering what he'd done wrong. But Claire's mind kept replaying a mental image of a gorgeous foreign lass touching Jamie as he reached his Nirvana. No bloody way is that happening!

Just as they were about to exit the room, Yi Tien Cho shouted after them. "I think my explanation was lost in translation. What I meant by release is, relieving them of muscle tension and pressure. I would suggest practising breathing exercises before you see your partners. Very highly recommended!"

..........

Jamie was just unwrapping the assorted dim sum he'd ordered twenty minutes ago from a takeaway when Claire walked into the cottage. The colours on her cheeks were back, and she looked radiant in her baby blue dungaree dress, if not a wee bit flustered.

"You're home," she breathed.

"Why shouldnae I be?" he asked, straightening to his full height.

She didn't answer the question; instead, she discarded her jean jacket and dropped it on the sofa along with her oversized bag and proceeded to scratch Rollo's ear.

Jamie ignored the agitation whipping in his belly that had been there since he'd arrived home. After his mother had shooed him and his father away from Claire's painting therapy, they'd ended up having a Thai massage. It had all happened in a blur. One minute he and Brian had been arguing whether to hang around and wait for Ellen and Claire. And then the next, they had been ushered into a massage room. Free of charge, one of the staff had said. 

The massage had been overall good, but throughout the session, he'd been thinking about how happy he was to see Claire feeling better and the plans he had in store for them. Unfortunately, thinking of the plans had resulted in embarrassing himself by getting a full-blown erection. The masseuse had taken this as a sign of interest, and she'd tried to proposition him. Realising the misunderstanding, he'd jumped to his feet and left the massage room in a hurry. He'd almost tripped in the process, trying to get as far away from the girl's advances as possible.

As he'd driven back home, he'd hovered between two choices. Tell Claire about what had happened or keep it to himself. Having heard horror stories about hormonal women in their pregnancy, it was hard to make a decision, but his conscience seemed hell-bent on pushing him to confess. Nothing had happened, and he'd done nothing wrong, but that masseuse might start talking, and he knew what village gossips were like. If the rumours reached Claire, he was sure it would end up being a whole different story, and a misunderstanding could ensue. 

He quickly downed the whisky he'd poured himself earlier in one go, the action catching Claire's eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him, asking without words what that was all about.

Jamie slowly put the tumbler down on the table. "Just fancied a wee bit of drink before dinner," he said, walking over to her and giving her a lingering kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry for barging in yer therapy earlier. Even if it hadnae been a statue ye were painting, I should have known better than to behave the way I did. I guess I was jealous of the thought of ye looking at another man's dick."

"The subject wasn't a statue at all," she replied after a moment. "We painted a half-naked man, and I actually enjoyed it." When he frowned, she quickly shook her head and smiled. "Not at ogling another man's body but the satisfaction of creating an artwork." She tipped her head up to look at him. "How about you? Did you enjoy your massage?"

"How'd ye know about that?" he asked almost defensively.

"Yi Tien Cho might have mentioned it."

Jamie felt his face heat up. He had to tell her. He'd told her he didn't want her keeping secrets from him, and it was just right he was forthright with her too. He swallowed hard and hoped he was doing the right thing. "I ...ah, how shall I say this? I ...sort of embarrassed myself. But it didnae have anything to ..."

She let out a sharp intake of breath, stopping him mid-sentence. "The masseuse was that good, is that it?" Jamie thought he saw a flicker of annoyance in her eyes, but it was gone before he could decipher it any further. "So, did you find her pretty?" she asked, the question catching him off guard.

"Aye, she was ..." he said truthfully. "But it had nought to do with ..."

She pushed him away with both hands and marched towards the bedroom.

He groaned inwardly. "Sassenach! It wasnae like that!" he appealed, walking behind her. 

"Was it not? Seems pretty straightforward case to me," she grumbled, flicking on the lights to the room.

"It's not what ye think."

"Since when did you become an expert on what I think?"

"Sassenach, please let me explain ..."

She plonked herself on the edge of the bed and glared at him, frantically tugging off her sandals and kicking them off. "What's there to explain? The masseuse was good at what she does, she's attractive, and your body reacted. Pretty male standard stuff, I would say." She shot to her feet and stormed past him. "There's nothing more to talk about!"

Jesus Christ, this cannae be happening! He took two long strides and grabbed her arm before she reached the bathroom and spun her to face him. Feeling bewildered at her outburst, he stared at her flushed face trying to discern what lurked behind those amber eyes. She was usually the level headed and calm one between them, and seeing her react like this over a lass was a novelty. He'd prepared himself for the eventuality of a gamut of mood swings that usually accompanied pregnancy, but this was different. This was way too unreasonable behaviour coming from her, even if hormone changes had something to do with it. 

Slowly realisation dawned on him, and it was clear as day, and he couldn't help but grin like a pillock. 

"What's so funny?" she hissed.

"Ye're jealous."

Sputtering, she tried to twist her arm out of his grasp. "I beg your pardon?"

"My beautiful Sassenach is jealous. I cannae believe it."

"No, I'm not!"

"Aye, ye are. Admit it!"

"You've no idea how close you are to getting your balls ripped off!"

Jamie crowded her space, not giving Claire any room to escape. She tried to sidestep him, but he merely walked her backwards until her back hit the wall. 

He tipped her face up with a finger under her chin and shook his head. "I dinnae ken whether to be amused or annoyed with ye right now. Ye're jumping to conclusions without giving me the time of day to explain. By now, it should be very clear to ye that ye're the only woman who could stir things inside me, turn my world upside down and slip that sense of rightness back into place ...right in here." He thumped his chest to make a point. "If ye'd allowed me to talk, then ye would have known that the hard-on I was walking around with had to do with thoughts of ye. The masseuse assumed I was reacting to her touch, and when she propositioned me, I was out of there before she could even finish her sentence."

Claire's eyes narrowed, studying his face closely as if judging the sincerity of his confession. In a way, Jamie was glad he'd told her, and he was hoping they could move on from this and enjoy the rest of their evening. If she needed space, he'd give her that, but he wouldn't allow her to think the worse, especially when her emotions were all over the place.

"So, you didn't stay?" she asked.

He feathered kisses across her forehead, then down along her cheek. "Ye have nothing to be jealous of, mo chridhe," he whispered. "Ye ken well ye rule my entire universe." He felt her body relaxed, her soft breaths fanning his neck, making his cock throb in his jeans. "Ye shine so bright, I couldnae look at another woman even if I wanted to."

He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her bottom lip, hovering there as he spoke. "Ye ken I'm a jealous man when it comes to ye, even if ye give me no reason to feel that way. It's horrible and all-consuming to be in that state, and I dinnae ever want ye for even a single moment to feel even a smidgen of it." He brushed his lips over hers, stopping at the corner of her mouth, kissing it gently. "So I'm so sorry ye had to feel that way."

She took a deep breath and puffed it out, her breasts swelling at the mere action. "And I'm sorry for doubting you."

He traced his finger over a nipple, his heart aching at the sight of her looking so excruciatingly beautiful. "Ye never really doubted me," he managed.

She playfully tugged the hem of his shirt. "No. I didn't. I just didn't like the thought of another woman touching you," she admitted.

"I thought I'd feel dead chuffed hearing ye say that. But I dinnae. All I ever wanted for ye is to feel secure in my love."

"I do," she whispered. "Even when we're bickering or when we're having our worst moments."

Jamie inhaled deeply to pacify the urgency pressing against his jeans. He wanted her badly, but he didn't want to rush her, thinking of their baby and her recovery from her morning sickness. If it had been all up to him, he would have taken her by now against the wall. He ignored the weight of his arousal and attempted to smile, the command not quite reaching his mouth. "Would ye like something to eat first? I've ordered takeaway, but if ye prefer the broth ma made, I can quickly reheat it up for ye."

Claire's hands slipped around his neck and tugged him closer, her soft lips pressing against his jawline. "I'm hungry for you. You think you can deal with that first?" 

Reeling from her bold challenge, her request hung in the air as he lifted her against him, his mouth greedily delving between her supple cleavage. His need roared in his head like a powerful hurricane wind, and amid the lustful haze, his heart expanded with love, threatening to choke him out of air. 

He hoisted Claire higher, and she banded her legs around his middle as he resumed feasting on the soft mounds of her breasts until a faint moan passed her lips. "God, ye have nae idea how I've missed this," he muttered against her heated skin, his teeth tugging at the neckline so he could lick her nipple. "Tell me again, this is really what ye want, and the baby will be alright with what we're about to do."

"I want you now, Jamie," she whimpered. "And the baby will be fine."

Jamie groaned, powerless to stop his hand from slipping under her dress and running along the soft curves of her thighs. He walked them to bed while Claire attempted to rip his shirt off. "Ah sweet, Jesus, ye want this as much as I do."

She answered by arching her back with a frustrated soft grunt and pressing her centre against his aching cock, making him even more impatient to bury himself inside her.

Gently, Jamie deposited her down in the centre of the bed, his pulse wildly racing at the sight of her breasts straining against her dress. They struggled together, laughing in between as they pulled the dress and her knickers off her body before divesting his own clothes in record time. When her eyes landed on his hand, stroking his erection from root to head, she bit her lower lip in anticipation, making him groan out loud. He'd gone nearly a week not having her, and he could only hope he could hold on a little while longer, her needs always in the forefront of his mind. His desperation must have been apparent on his face because her arms impatiently reached out for him.

He leaned over and kissed the hollow of her neck, his fingers travelling over her belly to stroke the wet folds between her legs. Her thighs instantaneously parted, and her hips lifted to meet his hand. "Ach, ye're so ready for me, Sassenach." He rubbed her sensitive nub, watching as she flung her head sideways and gasped. "This was all I could think of while waiting for ye to come home." He lowered himself to the floor and hooked her leg over his shoulder. Parting her with his fingers, he dipped his head for a quick taste, and she almost undid him with her throaty sigh. With concerted effort, he drew his gaze up from the juncture of her thighs, forcing her to look at him. "I want ye to watch me, Sassenach, so ye'll see how much I want ye."

Too impatient to wait for her response, he tongued her nub with circular motions before open-mouthed sucking her core. Her body jerked upward, writhing and flailing uncontrollably that he had to place a hand on her belly to keep her still. Her voice was raspy, from imploring him to keep going to mumbling disjointed words to chanting his name over and over again. Too drunk and high on the taste of her, her screams of release only registered dimly as impatient fingers tugged his head, breaking through the sensual trance. 

"Please, Jamie, I need you now."

Overcome with his own need, he kissed her nub one last time before rising over her body and shoving her legs wider. Without an ounce of finesse, he roared in satisfaction as he drove the entire length of his cock inside her with one rough thrust, muffling her scream with a deep kiss. "Aaah, Christ," he breathed against her panting lips. "This is how it's always gonnae be with us, isn't it?" His body shook as he pulled out and sank into her tight heat repeatedly, tamping down the urge to take her hard. "Only ye can make me feel like this. Only ye."

He braced himself on his elbows and began rolling his hips, thrusting into her in controlled and deliberate measures. He desperately wanted his own release, but at the same time, he wanted this moment to last, always mindful of her condition. When her eyelids dropped, he touched their foreheads together, prompting her to focus on him. The union of their bodies and the connection he felt on a soul level were so primordial and deeply ingrained, it made him feel exposed and raw, and he wanted her to see and feel all of it. So that there would never be a doubt in her mind again who he belonged to.

"My eyes see only ye, Sassenach," he whispered, kissing her eyelids, his lower body driving his rigid length into her wet heat. "My lips kiss only yers, and my heart sits on the palm of yer hand to do as ye wish with it." He caressed the side of her throat with his mouth and inhaled her sweet fragrance. "Yer hands are the only hands my body will rouse to. I am yers as ye are mine. Always remember that." His orgasm was inexorable, hovering over him, ready to spill his seed, but he held on to the strained tether of his self-control. She'd begun to shake and convulse around him, her thighs gripping around his waist. It felt like she was marking him and embedding herself in him with every contraction of her inner walls.

"And you're my first and my last." 

His head spun, but he reminded himself not to thrust any harder like a rutting beast, but the needy part of him only cared about hammering his cock into her to assuage the building ache. He wanted to be gentle and savour the moment, but his body wouldn't allow it. 

As if reading his concerns, her thighs opened wide to take him deeper. Planting kisses along his neck and collarbone, she circled her hips and dug her fingernails into his bottom, urging him to move faster and harder.

"Fuck, Sassenach, I dinnae want to hurt the baby nor ye," he gritted.

"You won't," she whispered, kneading his stiff muscles on his shoulder. "I promise."

Jamie lifted his head to search her eyes. But one look at her parted lips, face suffused with pleasure, his control finally snapped.

She gasped out loud when he began to pick up his pace, pounding into her as he let out a strangled groan, his own breathing becoming more laboured with each thrust. Her hands flew around his neck, and her legs curled once more around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back as she moaned. 

"Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck," he growled. "I cannae stop now." 

The bed creaked, and the headboard banged against the wall, the dull thump mingling with her cries as she came apart beneath him. The sight of her riding out her orgasm against his cock and the feel of her damp skin made it impossible to hold back any longer. He shattered into her with a loud roar and came with such ferocity, he thought his heart stopped. Wanting to extract every last ounce of pleasure, he fused his lips with hers with an animalistic sounding groan, their tongues tangling as they slowly regained their breathing under control. Sated, he dropped his head into her neck, muttering her name over and over, his hips continuing to pump even after the shudderings passed.

Claire blew out a shaky breath in his ear. 

"Ye alright, Sassenach?"

"Oh, God, we should do that more often."

"That good, aye?" 

"Uh-huh."

He moved off her to roll on his side and grinned. "I agree. I'm all for having more sex."

"I meant to say we should more often take breaks from sex. It will make our lovemaking more intense."

What? He pulled back to study her expression. "Ye're bloody joking, right?"

"A few days tops!"

"Nae fucking way!"

Claire's body shook with silent laughter.

"Ye think this is a laughing matter now?"

She covered her face with her hand to hide her smile, telling him she was only teasing. 

"Christ! Ye think that was my best performance, and I cannae top that, is that what ye're trying to say?" Taking Claire by surprise, Jamie rolled onto his back, bringing her with him, so she was on top of him. Using one hand, he placed his thickening arousal against her core, making her gasp. He clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Ach, Sassenach. We were just getting warmed up." He lifted her hips and slid his cock inside her, effectively putting an end to her laughter.

Dear Readers,

I'm sorry I didn't post any updates last week. I had a few problems with my arm spasm, and it was hard to type when it came out in full force. Harder also to write a sex scene when your limb is shaking all over the place. Anyway, I'm not telling you this because I want a pity party. Just letting you know what happened.

So that said, I'd like to thank you all for your patience and your continued readership. It makes me happy to know there are you lot reading my stories, and I want you to know I appreciate that.