Marcus exhaled slowly, his expression darkening. “It means the clans of these lands will face instability once more. This will ripple through the lands. We must be ready for what comes next.”
The celebration continued long into the night, but eventually, it was time for the couple to depart. Marcus and Annabeth were escorted through the grand hall, the people singing and clapping in their wake as they made their way toward Marcus’ chambers. The procession was long and full of cheer, and Annabeth felt her heart race with excitement and nerves as they approached the door. The weight of the moment settled upon her—this was the official end of their courtship and the beginning of their life together.
When they entered Marcus’ bedchamber, the door was closed behind them, and the noise of the celebration faded into silence. Annabeth stood still for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest as Marcus turned to her with a smile that made her feel both safe and desired. The ceremony had bound them in heart and soul, but now, it was time for their love to be sealed in the most intimate way. As Marcus stepped closer, Annabeth knew that their bond would grow deeper than ever before.
Annabeth stood before Marcus, her breath quickening as he slowly approached her. The heat between them grew as his hands gently brushed her arms, sending shivers down her spine.
“Ye’re more bonnie than any flower in the glen,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire. His words wrapped around her heart, making her feel cherished in a way she never thought possible.
As Marcus untied the laces of her gown, his fingers grazed her skin, leaving a trail of warmth. “I’ve waited for this, Annabeth,” he murmured, his lips pressing softly against her neck. She closed her eyes, her body responding to his touch, her pulse racing with anticipation. Each word he spoke made her feel beautiful, desired—like she was the only one in the world.
He slipped off her wedding clothes until they were a pile on the floor around her. Annabeth covered her naked breast with her arms, but Marcus moved them away.
“A creature as beautiful as ye shouldnae hide, lass.”
Annabeth sighed then said, “Me turn.” Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for ’Marcus’ tartan kilt, the fabric rich in crimson and black, a symbol of the clan. She carefully untied the leather straps holding it in place, her breath catching as she revealed the muscular contours of his legs. The kilt was lifted gently over his hips. She set it aside, her eyes tracing the smoothness of his skin beneath the woolen garments, feeling the heat between them grow with each delicate movement.
Next, her hands moved to the fine woolen tunic he wore beneath his kilt. The shirt was loosely fastened at the neck with a tie, the soft linen billowing slightly as she unknotted it. As the fabric fell away, it revealed his broad chest and the scars that marked his skin, stories of his past and his clan’s history etched into his flesh.
His arms, strong and defined, flexed as he shrugged off the sleeves, his body now bare before her in the dim light, and Annabeth could feel her heart race as she took in the sight of him. His eyes locked onto hers, filled with love and longing, and in that moment, they both knew that nothing else mattered but the bond they were about to share.
“Ye’re mine now, lass. I take what is mine,” he said.
He picked her up and placed her on the bed. His kisses felt hot against her skin. She arched her back up, pressing her body against his.
“I want ye, husband,” she whispered.
“And I want to taste ye. How I’ve longed to do so since our first time,” he said.
Marcus moved lower onto the bed and pushed her legs up onto his shoulders. Annabeth gasped with delight as he plunged his face between her creamy thighs. His tongue found her rosebud where he kissed and licked as she squirmed into the mattress. She longed for this feeling, craved for it since their first time.
Once again, she felt the mounting of the pulsing forming inside her. His expertise made her wet with desire. She pushed her hands into his hair guiding him.
He growled, “I cannae get enough of yer taste.”
With that Annabeth could not hold on any longer. The tremors that started out slow built to an explosion as she shouted into the bedchamber. “Oh, Marcus! Marcus!”
His tongue licked and drank her before he moved up her body. Placing kisses on every inch of her naked skin. His mouth cupped over her breast greedily. Her hands pressed against his back feeling every muscle hard and taunt.
He’s a strong warrior, and he’s mine.
She pressed her lips against his as he positioned his hips between her thighs. He looked down at her. “I’ve been waitin’ for this for so long.”
“Me too, Me Laird,” she whispered.
Marcus sucked in a sharp breath and then placed the tip of his hard staff inside of her. Annabeth opened her thighs wider letting him in. He slid slowly, entering her deeper and deeper. Annabeth moaned as he watched her face.
“Ye feel so good, lass. I never want to let ye go,” he growled.
Annabeth felt him inside of her. The sensation filled her with a satisfying feeling she never knew could exist. Marcus moved faster and faster, in and out of her, rocking his hips. She grabbed the sheets in her hands, twisting the fabric in her fists as she allowed the stimulation to overtake her.
The building pressure inside of her drove her mad. Her hands wildly moved up and down his back and his muscular arms holding his weight above her.
“It’s happenin’ again,” she whispered. She did not know what it was, but it was the ecstasy that she had become familiar with. With a tremoring wave moving through her, she released.
Marcus groaned as he continued to move his hips. Before long, he too was at the brink and released inside of her.
Annabeth lay beside Marcus, their bodies tangled in the warmth of the bed, the glow of the candlelight casting soft shadows across their skin. She felt the steady rhythm of his breathing beside her, the sound of his heart in perfect tune with her own.Her hand rested on his chest, the steady beat of it grounding her, and in that moment, she realized how deeply she loved him. The weight of her feelings settled in her chest, like a sweet promise she’d carried for so long.
As her thoughts drifted, Annabeth reflected on the winding path that had led her here. She’d once been abandoned, a bairn left to fend for herself until Claire had taken her in and shown her the meaning of family. And now, she was the wife of the Laird Marcus Reid, a man of power and respect, standing proudly beside him. The journey had been long, but every step, every hardship, had brought her closer to this moment.
“I love ye,” Marcus whispered softly, his voice low and filled with sincerity, breaking her reverie.
She smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest as she replied, her voice just as tender, “I love ye, Marcus.”
The End?
