The Scottish Bride - Catherine Coulter [98]
Then she fell back against the pillow, saying his name over and over, begging him not to stop, never stop, please, please. On and on it went, with her wild beneath him, and Tysen felt her frantic pleasure washing over him, coming deep inside him, and it shook him to his core. Never had he felt anything like this in his entire life. Slowly, he lessened his pressure, it just seemed the natural thing to do, and when he felt her ease, he raised his head and looked up her body. He could see her clearly in the morning light pouring through the windows. Her face was flushed, her lips parted, and she was staring at him, but her eyes were vague and soft, and she said, “Oh, goodness.” And then she held out her arms to him.
He’d never moved so fast in his life. He said as he came over her, “I hope you like this as well,” and he was inside her, deep and moving hard and fast. This time there was no doubt at all in Tysen’s mind that he was going to die. And it didn’t matter. He was ready to leave this earth. When he raised his head, arched his back, and yelled to the ceiling, she held him very close, and he felt her breath on his chest, and she was kissing his chest as well, her hands stroking everywhere, even between their bodies on his belly.
He fell flat on top of her, his head beside hers on the pillow. He felt her hands slow now, lightly stroking down his back, and every once in a while she kissed his ear, his neck, any part of him she could reach.
She said against his ear, “That was a very incredible thing, Tysen. I had no idea that being married could mean having feelings like that.”
He hadn’t either. He was floored. He thought of his brothers, who were worldly men and enjoyed making love to women immensely. They’d never been at all shy about speaking about such things. He’d always believed it was a sin, perhaps a sin of overindulgence, what his brothers did with great regularity, perhaps even a sin that they enjoyed their wives so very much. He’d felt superior to them, felt that they hadn’t achieved his ability to rely on his intellect, to let his spirit and his mind control his body. It had to be a sin, for didn’t it make a man forget himself, forget who and what he was, forget what was important in life and what wasn’t?
Had he truly been such a pompous idiot? Such an obnoxious prig? He grew hard inside her again, and he couldn’t help it, he started laughing. He laughed because for the first time in his thirty-one years, he finally knew the incredible joy of being a man and having a woman enjoy him as much as he did her.
He managed, finally, to bring himself up just a bit, and he kissed her mouth. “Mary Rose,” he said between light, nipping kisses, “can you feel me inside you?” He started moving slowly, easily, and the pleasure made him want to shout and sing, perhaps even dance.
“Yes,” she said, leaned up and kissed his shoulder and moved beneath him. “Yes, I can. It is a wondrous feeling, Tysen. Thank you for showing me what was what.”
He saw their two bodies together, and he realized that it was the first time in his life that he had ever had a woman’s body pressed against his. “Are you sore?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. I rather like this, Tysen.”
And he laughed again and kissed her, still laughing, and then he wanted very much to touch her again, to feel her tense and go wild when she gained her climax, and it just happened. He slid his hand between them and found her and watched her eyes go vacant. He was, he thought, a man who was very happy. Surely that wasn’t bad, a husband who enjoyed his wife. Surely.
There was a knock on the door.
Tysen opened an eye but didn’t move. He said, “I don’t care what is going on, even if Erickson MacPhail is back intending to steal you away again, I don’t want to move. Don’t you move, either. You’ve got to be safe from him since you’re lying beneath me.”
She laughed, squeezed him hard, and called out, “Who is it?”
“It’s Meggie.”
Tysen opened an eye. “I have a daughter. I also have two sons.