The Lady of the Glen by Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple

The Lady of the Glen by Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple

Author:Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance novels, scottish romance, sexy historical romance books, romance books, sexy romance, romance historical, romance ebooks, romance and sex, Love books, scottish medieval romance, scotland historical romance, Scottish historical romance, sexy historical romance, Medieval historical romance books, highland romance books, popular historical romance, highland historical romance
Publisher: M.D. Dalrymple
Published: 2019-01-16T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 14: Small Gifts

Before the night grew too long, Declan thanked the crowd, bid them good eve for both himself and Elayne, and moved to escort his bride up to their chambers. A few clansmen joked that the couple needed an audience to confirm the marriage was consummated, and Elayne paled at the suggestion. She already had to endure letting the priest (who had not looked her in the eyes for the rest of the day) know of her “indiscretions” with Declan; the thought of the entire clan finding out was mortifying. Fortunately, Declan laughed it off and, sweeping Elayne up into his arms, marched up the rest of steps, surprising both Elayne and the cheering crowd.

The quiet of their chamber was a welcome respite to the boisterous noise below. Notes from the pipes flowed into the room from the window, a light sound in the otherwise still night air. Elayne flopped onto the bed in relief. Her new husband attended the fire, banking it for the evening, allowing the chill of the fall to envelop them. He then flopped on the bed next to her.

She turned her head to face him, and as he gazed back, they both began giggling uncontrollably. Slowly their laughter died out, and as they wheezed air back into their lungs, Declan reached for Elayne’s hand.

“Well, my wife,” he started with overt inflection, “What say ye that we consummate this marriage?”

“Aye, my husband,” she returned the tone. “We dinna want anyone to suggest the marriage is no’ legal.”

Declan leapt off the bed, bringing Elayne with him. He clasped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead, nose, and each of her cheeks.

“First, I have to thank ye, wife,” he said in his husky voice. “Tonight, was the first night where Clan MacCollough enjoyed a civilized feast, good food, good kin, and music, much like what I saw in other clans when I was away with the Bruce. Tonight, I felt like a true clan Laird, and I owe so much of that to ye.”

“My Laird, methinks ye would have attained this, regardless. Ye are quite the force to be reckoned with.”

“Ooch, Lady ‘Layne,” Declan responded, “that is the highest compliment coming from ye.” His eyes squinted with his smile, and he kissed her full on the lips.

His tongue sought her mouth, tracing the outline of her lips, licking her décolletage, teasing his tongue between the cleavage of her breasts. Quivers of excitement rushed from her breasts down her belly to her woman’s mound. She grasped Declan’s head, pulling it up to kiss him back, their tongues dancing. His hands moved to her breasts, kneading them over her gown. He then wrapped one arm around her, grasping her derriere and pressing her to him. His arousal was strong and stiff beneath his tartan, and she reached her hand to rub his erection under his kilt.

Breathing heavily, Declan thrust her away from him, tugging her gown away from her kirtle. Elayne shrugged her gown off her shoulders to grant him easier access, and he freed her breasts from the golden fabric.



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