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He lay back on the bed but kept his focus on her. “Tell me about yerself, lass.”
Bronson not knowing much about her wasn’t uncommon, even if they were married. Most of the time, a woman was betrothed from birth to a man of high social standing, but then again, that woman would have to be upper class too. Though Bronson’s family was of high standing, even if they had lost their land years and years ago, he hadn’t followed suit as most others in his situation would have. No, he had torn and defeated his way through their Scottish land, taking back what was his, and then deciding he was ready to create his own family and legacy. But he hadn’t found a lady to wed. He wanted her, Genevieve, a lowly and poor farmer’s daughter who had nothing to give him but her body and plenty of sons… she prayed at least.
“There isn’t much tae say really.” He smiled softly at her, and her heart did a little jump at the sight. “Why did ye pick me?” She shouldn’t have overstepped her boundaries by asking him such a question. “I meant, why did ye pick a peasant when ye would have had the choice of a lady?” She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Ye could have had any woman ye wanted.”
Would he grow angry with her, because she questioned him? She hadn’t been trained to know how to please a man or know her place. She had worked out in the fields with her father, cooked and cleaned every day, and knew what it was like to be tired because she had worked from dawn to dusk.
“I wanted a woman who knew how hard life truly was. I wanted a wife who wasn’t afraid tae get her hands dirty, and who would teach our children what it meant tae have tae sweat and bleed for the things they want.” He pulled her close so suddenly that she now found herself draped over his body. “I wanted ye, Genevieve, because I could see ye knew all those things. I wanted ye tae be the mother of my sons, because ye knew what it meant not tae have anything handed tae ye.” He leaned in close again. “And because I wanted tae fuck you with a passion that rivaled my need to draw blood on the battlefield.”
She felt his lips move against hers as he spoke, and the air left her on a breath from the impact they made on her. He took her hand while not moving his face away from hers and placed it on his erection. She made a small noise in the back of her throat, but he already had his mouth on hers and was swallowing the sound. He pushed the hide off so now he had her hand on his bare flesh. He was hot, big, and so very stiff.
“Lovely, ye see what ye do tae me?” he asked against her lips. “Ye make me harder than I have ever been in my life.” He was breathing hard, and in the next second, he had his hands on her waist and hauled her over him. With her legs spread on either side of his waist, her pussy on full display to his penetrating eyes, she felt that ever present flush steal over her.
“Ye’re gorgeous, Genevieve, and all mine.” Bronson looked up from between her thighs and into her face. “Now, ride me, lass, show me how much ye want my cum.” He placed a hand on her belly. This wasn’t just about pleasure. Bronson hadn’t let it be a secret that he wanted sons right away. He reached between their bodies, grabbed hold of his shaft, and ran it up and down her cleft. “Are ye sore, lass?” He stared into her face, and she nodded.
“Aye, but I want this, Bronson. I want you.” She was sore, but as soon as he kissed her, she had grown wet and needy for him all over again. She may have just wed him, hadn’t known him for very long, but Genevieve wanted this warlord with a passion, and she wanted to give him the babes he so desperately wanted. There was a very primal and basic need in both of them. She wanted to be the mother of his children, and she wanted to make him happy.
Chapter Eleven
Genevieve walked through the small village she had called home her entire life. Up until this very moment, life hadn’t been the easiest. There had been a lot of bloodshed from the man who ruled over her people before Bronson finally reclaimed his land, During that time while she was growing up, there had been a lot of blood, sweat, and tears that had gone into making sure she and her father had food and didn’t lose their home.
