The MacNaughton Bride by Desconhecido(a)

shut,
feeling those exploring calluses as well as the heat from his nearness   working slowly to dispel the heat in
her backside.  
    Those lightly nibbling lips
planted tiny, soft kisses everywhere – her eyelids and lashes, the spot
where ear meets neck, the tip of her chin and the side of her nose.   Kell could
feel her relaxing, and she was no longer shrinking away from him.   He hated that.   He wasn’t a brute – he was just a
man who expected to be in control of his marriage – and his wife.   There were far too many much more
pleasant things to do with his wife, and he preferred to concentrate on those.
    Carefully, experimentally,
he pressed his entire body against her, tilting her backwards and listening for
any sounds of distress he may have caused.   Aislinn mewled a little when her
still naked bottom touched the thick, fluffy duvet for the first time, but by
then his mouth had found hers, settling over it just the slightest bit more
firmly, making it more of a kiss and less of an accidental meeting.
    Aislinn arched a bit to hold her curves above the bed, bumping her bare lower half
against the rough, woolen pole he apparently kept in his bed.   She heard Kell groan slightly, then more loudly as she withdrew and settled herself gingerly
onto the bed.   Surprised and
concerned, Aislinn asked in a tentative voice she
didn’t recognize, “Did I do something wrong?”
                  “No,”
the word came out fiercely, like a guttural shot from his lips.   He thought he was going to disgrace
himself and explode all over the inside of his kilt.   Kell spent a long moment trying to
get a hold of himself, and the outcome was not at all certain until he opened
his eyes and looked down at her.   She looked worried, as if she thought she had hurt him.   Her innocence charmed him and dampened
his ardor like nothing else could have.   Clearing his throat, he threaded his thick fingers through her
hair.   “You didn’t do anything
wrong, lass.   Do you believe me?”
    Aislinn nodded, still curious.   “Do you
usually wear a knife to bed?”
    Kell raised his eyebrow at her, until he realized what she thought was a knife and
grinned broadly.   “That’s no knife,
lass.”   She opened her mouth to ask
another question, but he put his finger over her lips.   “You’ll find out about it later, I
promise.”
    He had never taken such
time with a woman in his life.   He
explored every inch of her, even those inches that made her blush so furiously
he thought she was going to explode.   When he divested her of the rest of her clothes, she made the usual
maidenly attempt to cover herself, but Kell kissed
away the hands that shielded her breasts from him.   “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he
whispered, and it was the bone deep truth.   For someone so tiny, she was perfectly endowed – just
the slightest touch over generously in the best areas.   Her breasts were firm and wonderfully
round, their dusky tips hardened as he watched, as if they were seeking his
attention, and he was only too happy to provide it.
    When he drew a virgin
nipple into his mouth, Aislinn thought she would die
from the pure pleasure of it.   He
tugged insistently, licking around and over the tip within his mouth, letting
her first gasp of pleasure flood over him like molten lava for the barest of
seconds.  
    Aislinn didn’t know what to do with the feelings he was conjuring effortlessly within
her body – she was again out of control, being touched and fondled by him
in a shamefully sinful way that, granted, was much more pleasant than being
spanked . . . but the pleasure!   It
was as if every inch of her skin was alive and aware for the first time in her
life – and certain inches of her were much more alive than she was sure
they were ever intended to be!    The area between her legs – the one that no nice woman, no decent
woman ever even admit to herself that she owned