Chapter 15

Billie wore a light blue dress that brought out the azure hues in her eyes. Keira had convinced her to let her pin her hair back, and she and two maids had worked the strands into an intricate style that allowed most of it to still flow down her back in gentle waves. The dress was beautiful, a gift from her father, but no matter how much she tried, Billie didn’t feel comfortable in any of it.

It wasn’t so much that the dress or the hairstyle were uncomfortable. Even her shoes, brand new and still a little tight, were bearable. The problem was that it was her wedding day—a day that until only a few weeks prior, she thought wouldn’t come for a long time.

It was strange to think that by the end of that day, she would be Domnhall’s wife. The two of them had barely managed to put their differences aside, and they still hadn’t spoken enough about their relationship, the misunderstandings, or even their future together. The fear that he would force her to stop healing people and learning more about the craft bubbled back up to the surface, choking her every time she tried to take a breath.

Then there was the matter of their wedding night. Billie wasn’t entirely clueless; having two sisters who were married—one of them expecting a child—and another sister who loved pretty boys, meant that she knew a thing or two about what happened between a man and woman. Domnhall’s naked form was still crystal clear in her mind. She could imagine him clearly, with his strong chest and shoulders, his muscular thighs, and between them, the very thing that she dreaded.

Nonetheless, she didn’t know how to bring up her fears to Abigail or Keira. Though she had no way of comparing Domnhall to another man, she could hardly believe something of that size could give her pleasure rather than pain, and there were many horror stories she had heard of women who came to regret their wedding night.

Billie didn’t want to be one of them. She didn’t even really want to marry, so suffering physical pain on top of it seemed too much of a punishment.

“What’s on yer mind?” Keira asked her as she and Billie walked alongside her, the three of them accompanied by their father and a few guards as they made their way to the chapel. Billie could hardly share her thoughts with her sister when her father and the guards were there, though, so she only shrugged and gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’m only nervous,” she said, hoping they would blame the sudden blush on her cheeks on that rather than suspect what she was truly thinking. It was a nice day, the rain from the previous morning gone and replaced by a pleasant, dry warmth, and as they walked, the breeze cooled down Billie’s cheeks. But even the nice weather did little to lift her spirits, nervous as she was about the future.

“It’s natural that ye’re nervous,” her father said. “I was very nervous when I married yer maither.”

Billie turned to look at him, surprised. Her father rarely ever seemed nervous about anything, she had always believed he could deal with anything. “Ye were?”

“Ach, o’ course I was,” he said. “She was so bonnie an’ I wanted tae impress her but naturally, that meant I only made a fool o’ meself. Sometimes I still wonder why she married me at all.”

All the sisters were used to their father talking about their mother, ever since they were little. Laird Robertson refused to let his wife’s memory fade, and he made sure his daughters knew as much as they could about her, even long after her death. But this was the first time any of them had heard about this, about their wedding day.

It was comforting, knowing her father, too, had been so nervous.

“I wish she were here,” Billie said just as they reached the chapel.

Laird Robertson pulled her close, a hand cradling her cheek tenderly. “I’m sure she can see ye,” he said. “An’ I’m sure she’s very happy, like we are.”

Billie could only hope that was true as she stepped into the chapel. Domnhall was already there, waiting for her along with Hugo, and she silently walked up to him and the priest, trying to keep her nerves under control.

She barely looked at him other than to exchange a nod of acknowledgement before the priest began the ceremony. It was a quick affair, passing by in a blur as Billie focused on her breathing, trying to ignore all the eyes that were on her and Domnhall. By the time the ceremony was over, Billie’s mind had strayed back to her concerns about her healing practice and the wedding night that was rapidly approaching, and she almost missed the cue to leave the chapel. Once outside, the priest finished the dining ceremony, and then suddenly, Billie was Billie MacAuley, Lady of the MacAuley Clan.

She knew what was expected of her, though. She knew when to smile, when to accept congratulations, how to welcome everyone to the feast. Soon, the great hall of the castle was filled with people, the servants bringing in the food and wine for the celebration that was bound to last all day, as well as the better part of the night.

Billie sat next to Domnhall at the large table at the far end of the room. Though she tried not to look at him, she could feel him fidgeting next to her, turning this way and that, giving Hugo monosyllabic answers to his questions. He seemed even more nervous than Billie, and when she finally turned to look at him, she found him staring at her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I could ask ye the same thing,” Domnhall said. He looked around for a moment and then with a sigh, he offered his hand to Billie. “Come. Let’s take a walk.”

“Right the now? We’re supposed tae be here.”

“It willnae take long,” Domnhall assured her.

Billie hesitated for a moment, but then she took Domnhall’s hand and let him lead her out to the courtyard, through the fragrant gardens. For a while, they walked in silence, and it was only when they were far away from any prying ears that Domnhall spoke.

“I can tell ye havenae enjoyed any o’ this,” he said. “What is it that concerns ye so? Is it so terrible, after all, tae be married tae me?”

He made it sound like a jest, but there was a hit of insecurity behind it, as if a part of him expected Billie to confirm that it was, in fact, terrible. Billie only smiled softly, shaking her head.

“I’ve been thinkin’ all day,” she said. “But it’s naething… truly, it is naething more than a silly thought.”

“Silly or serious, ye can tell me,” Domnhall said as he came to a halt and pulled Billie close to him. “Ye said ye dinnae wish fer us tae fight anymore, an’ I dinnae want that either. If there is anythin’ I can dae tae make this marriage more tolerable fer ye, I’d like tae ken what it is.”

Billie took the length of a sigh to avoid saying anything, but then she had no choice but to reveal her concerns to Domnhall. “Well… there is the matter o’ me bein’ a healer. I am concerned ye’ll try tae stop me.”

“I’ve already told ye I wouldnae dae that,” Domnhall reminded her gently. “I have nae reason tae stop ye. I think it’s admirable, what ye dae fer others. If that is what ye wish tae dae, then so it shall be.”

Relief washed over Billie. She had no reason to believe Domnhall was telling her anything but the truth, since he had never outright lied to her until that point. Besides, he seemed entirely sincere, and it was true that he had told her before—he had told her that night at the inn, when she had expressed the same fear, without even knowing who she truly was.

“Thank ye, Domnhall,” she said. “It truly means a lot tae me.”

“I’m happy tae help ye in any way I can,” Domnhall promised her. “What else concerns ye?”

That was harder to answer for Billie. She looked around for a moment, making sure there truly was no one else but them there, and then she leaned even closer to whisper into his ear.

“I am nervous about our weddin’ night,” she said. “I was sincere when I told ye I’ve never been with a man an’ I… I dinnae ken…”

With a sigh, Domnhall took pity on her and said, “Dinnae fash. I’ll make sure ye enjoy it.”

As he spoke, he smirked at Billie and pushed her in the shadows of the bushes and the ivy that crawled up the castle walls. When her back hit the stone, she gasped and Domnhall took the opportunity to capture her lips in a heated kiss, his hands coming to rest on her hips.

Her body had an immediate reaction to him, seeking him out, her hands pulling him even closer. It was as though that desire she had felt the night of their first meeting had never faded and was now back, demanding to be acknowledged. Heat spread through her body wherever Domnhall touched her, his presence surrounding her entirely and driving her mad with lust.

Before she could stop herself, Billie rolled her hips against Domnhall with a soft sigh, drawing a chuckle out of him. “Are ye that eager, lass?” he asked as one of his hands trailed up her stomach, the tips of his fingers brushing against her nipple through the fabric. “I thought ye were concerned about this.”

Most of Billie’s apprehension was gone the moment Domnhall had put his hands and lips on her. She wished he hadn’t reminded her, but despite the fear that still lingered, she wanted him. She wanted the same kind of pleasure he had given her the first night they met, and she could hardly wait for it.

“I want ye,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, cheeks heating at the admission. “Please, Domnhall.”

He glanced at the windows over their heads, where the feast was still going strong, but he didn’t resist Billie’s plea. Instead, he took her hand and led her back to the castle, the two of them sneaking unseen through the corridors until they made it to Domnhall’s chambers.

The moment they were behind closed doors, Domnhall was upon her once more, his hands grabbing everywhere they could reach, his mouth a hot brand against her sensitive skin as he kissed her neck. Billie allowed herself to surrender to the pleasure, her fingers tangling in Domnhall’s hair as he tugged her dress down.

He cursed as he struggled with the fabric and in the end, he all but tore Billie’s clothes off her body, letting it all pool around her ankles. She was suddenly bare and her hands came before her to hide her body, but Domnhall grabbed her wrists and brought them to his lips, kissing them.

“Let me see ye,” he said, his gaze taking in the swell of her breasts, the curves of her hips, the curves of her thighs. Billie had never felt so exposed before, and her blush had spread down to her chest, her skin bright red under Domnhall’s scrutiny. “So bonnie, Billie.”

Billie’s breath caught in her throat as Domnhall pushed her towards the bed. He made her sit on the edge of the mattress and pushed her legs apart with his hands, settling between them on his knees on the floor. His lips brushed over her stomach, then the underside of her breast, and when he finally reached her nipple, he drew it in his mouth, sucking and biting gently on it. His hands caressed her thighs, soft touches keeping her legs firmly open for him and drawing pleas out of her lips.

Billie didn’t even know what she was asking for. All she knew was that she needed more of this, anything to lessen this maddening, frustrating desire she felt. She didn’t realize she was whining and moaning, back arching as Domnhall brought her nipples to full hardness, until he hushed her gently.

“I’ll get ye wet an’ open fer me,” he said, his hand reaching between them to tease a spot that sent a jolt of pleasure through Billie’s body. “An’ I’ll only take ye when ye beg me.”

Pushing her gently down onto the bed, Domnhall kissed his way down Billie’s body once more, his hands following the same path. He grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders, and Billie watched him, wide-eyed, as he tasted her for the first time.

Her entire body jerked the moment she felt his tongue against her, licking a slow, torturous path over her opening. Domnhall’s grip on her hips tightened, keeping her still as he continued his ministrations, lips closing over her sensitive flesh and sucking before he soothed the spot with a swirl of his tongue. Billie could feel, rather than hear, Domnhall’s quiet groans as he pressed his mouth against her fully, pleasuring her with broad strokes of his tongue only to pull back again and give her small, rapid flicks with the tip.

Billie could only moan his name and try to roll her hips in vain as his strong hands pinned her to the mattress. Even when he removed one of them, he draped his arm over her hips to keep her still and then gathered some of her wetness on his fingers to rub over her sensitive spot slickly.

“Ye’re already wet fer me, are ye nae, mo ghraidh?” Domnhall said, his voice even lower than usual, rumbling in his chest. “I’ve been thinkin’ about this ever since we met. I’ve wanted naething more than tae watch ye come apart on me mouth, me fingers.”

A whine tore through Billie’s throat, her mind having long forgotten how to form words. Domnhall chuckled, but not unkindly as those fingers pressed against her until her flesh parted, letting him in.

“Dae ye like it when I tell ye how wet ye are?” he asked, and Billie could only nod, her face and body on fire. It was nothing like she had expected. There was a pressure inside her where Domnhall’s fingers curled and prodded, more pleasurable than anything she had experienced before. She could feel her wetness as it trickled out of her, making a mess of her and Domnhall, and though she was terribly embarrassed about it, about the slick slide of his fingers and the moans that she couldn’t hold back, Domnhall seemed to be pleased by both.

“Domnhall… please,” Billie said, hands reaching blindly for him. She needed something, anything that was more than this. “Please… I cannae?—”

“I ken, mo ghraidh,” Domnhall assured her, but then much to Billie’s disappointment, he pulled back. Confused, she sat up only to see him discarding his own clothes in a haste, and the moment he was naked, he was back by the bed, crawling over her body.

He was hard, his manhood longer than it was thick, straining against his body. Hesitantly, Billie reached for him, wrapping her hand around his length with a sharp inhale and stroking him a few times, trying to gauge his reactions. With a sigh, Domnhall let his forehead fall against hers, his hand coming to wrap around her own to guide her.

“Just like this,” he said, breathless, and Billie loved that she had this effect on him, that she could drive him just as crazy as he drove her. He was hard and trembling, his temples covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his mouth glistening with her wetness, all because of how much he desired her.

“Take me,” Billie said, leaning back once more and pulling him between her legs. “Please, Domnhall… I’m ready.”

This time, she knew she was. There was no hesitation as she looked him in the eye, pulling him into a kiss and tasting herself on his lips.

Domnhall didn’t waste another moment before he took his manhood in his hand and guided himself to her opening. He pushed inside her slowly, torturously so, giving her time to adjust to the feeling even as Billie could tell it was difficult for him to do so. She felt a sharp pain, but it was brief and then it was gone, replaced by intense pleasure. The feeling of Domnhall filling her up so completely cut her breath short, her body arching against him, trying to take him deeper and deeper.

When they were flush against each other, Billie wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him close. Domnhall braced himself on his forearms, craning his neck to kiss her lips as he rocked against her, pulling back just a little before pushing back in. “Ye are mine now,” he whispered in her ear.

He made love to her slowly, his thrusts as tender as his kisses. Billie had feared that perhaps he would be brutal, chasing only his own pleasure, but he seemed to enjoy pleasuring her, whispering sweet words in her ear as he took her. She thought herself a fool for ever being afraid of this. Now, she was certain it would be all she wanted to do.

The pressure quickly built in her belly, and Billie was trying to chase a feeling for which she had no name.

“Domnhall, I… I will…” Her hips rocked to meet Domnhall’s, a tingling sensation growing and growing until it found its release. Billie shook through it, moaning Domnhall’s name without caring who would hear, her walls pulsing around him as she reached her climax.

“Come fer me, Billie, come fer me,” Domnhall whispered in her ear and took her lips between his for a passionate kiss. Panting, she fell back on the bed, relaxing, eyes wide as she stared at the ceiling. A warm, comfortable feeling spread over her, a pleasure like none other she had ever felt.

“Ye are so tight around me, mo ghraidh, so wet and tight,” Domnhall gave a few more thrusts, the last ones speeding up as he buried himself as deep as he could inside Billie, spilling himself inside her. For a few moments, he could only brace himself and pant to catch his breath, but when he did, he let out a breathless laugh as he kissed her.

“How was that?” he asked her, though he already knew the answer.

He was still inside her, his grin bright in the half-darkness of the room. He was handsome under the soft light of the candles, and most importantly, he seemed happier than Billie had ever seen him. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried to suppress a grin of her own.

“Ach, I suppose it was alright,” she teased, only for Domnhall to nip at her shoulder in retaliation.