Rating: M

Disclaimer: see previous chapters

Author's Notes: Oh my. I managed to re-read over the previous chapter and I'm absolutely appalled over the grammatical mistakes and such. XD Sorry about that, I will try better to not post unbeta'd stuffs. XD But regardless, thanks so much for the lovely reviews! I enjoyed reading some of the speculations. Just to answer a few more questions posted in the review:

Orihime in this fic is about 18-19years old. So there's roughly a ten-year age gap between the two of them.

I will be addressing Orihime's family life in later chapters so you'll see exactly why Sora was raising Orihime.

Please take note that the rating for this fic has officially gone up (you knew it was bound to happen). Please read responsibly. I have to say, I had considerable trouble writing the love scene in this chapter, so I apologise if its not all that great. I hope to do better in future love scenes.

ETA: Thank you to the anon reviewer who reminded me of my dues. I realised after reading the review that I failed to mention that the highlander theme is of course influenced by one of my favourite writers, Julie Garwood. I had thought that I had mentioned it already in the first chapter (seeing as I'm continuously harping on and on about her on plurk) but it seems that I didn't, so I apologise to anyone who may have been mislead in regards to that. In addition to that, the idea behind this story is wholly my own. I did use names that I had read from her novels such as 'Elspeth' and 'Father Maclaurin', but they weren't written in the exact same way and were common archaic names that I thought I could use, but it seems I cannot lest I be accused of plagiarism. Again, apologies to all reading, my intention was never to plagiarise but to introduce the world of Bleach to the Highlands of Scotland. I hope this does not deter anyone from reading, and I'll make a better effort to credit every name that I use from now on.

Current Word Count: 10, 381.

…

Chapter Three

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." – Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Orihime's heart pounded as they drew closer to the chapel.

She had accepted the marriage on the way here, making a list of all the reasons why it was a good idea to get married to this virtual stranger, and she quickly reminded herself of those reasons again as each step she took dragged her closer to the inevitable.

At the top of her list of course was the obvious reason of her father. If she married him, he had promised to bring her father to him, and having a family was all Orihime had ever wanted since her brother Sora had passed away. The second reason on her list was that she'd had an instinctive gut feeling that he was right for her, something she had never gotten with any of her previous suitors. She thought of her third reason.

She thought harder.

Her mind drew a blank and she stumbled over her feet at the seriousness of the situation. Dear God, could she really go through with this? Could she really spend the rest of her life with someone on the basis of only two reasons?

Ichigo had paused to grab hold of his intended bride when she stumbled. He noticed that her breathing had gotten quite erratic and that her eyes had a glazed look to it. He sighed. Surely the matter of their upcoming nuptials should have been settled by now, right? He thought that the time they had spent down by the stream together had been enough to alleviate her of her fears. Shaking his head, he decided to forge ahead, thinking that if he stopped every time she started to get cold feet, they'd never end up married. He pushed aside the niggling guilt, reasoning with himself that he wouldn't be laird if he attended to her needs every second, would he? Resolutely, he continued to stride towards the chapel, keeping a firm grip on Orihime's arm. Reaching the building, he pushed the heavy door open, startling the priest who was pouring over a book. "Laird Kurosaki," he called out in greeting.

"Father," he acknowledged.

Father Maclaurin gave a start of surprise when Ichigo's men followed closely behind, along with his laird and his lady wife and the rest of the clan. They filled up the small chapel quickly and he assumed from the impatient look on Ichigo's face that he meant to get married that very instant. He cleared his throat, "should I begin with the ceremony?"

Ichigo looked down at his bride-to-be, the glazed look more pronounced. He was impatient to get it over and done with already, but for some reason, he wanted her to come to him willingly. Perhaps it would be better if he gave her some time to prepare, after all, they had spent long hours in the saddle. He subsided, nudging Orihime towards Yoruichi before scowling. "One hour."

Yoruichi gave an approving smile before whisking Orihime away, leaving the men up to their own devices. She tugged the English woman along, giving orders to her servants to advise cook about the upcoming wedding banquet and to prepare whatever she could. She ordered three of Kisuke's men to haul the tub and heated water to the free chamber upstairs before heading that way herself with Orihime.

She ushered Orihime into the room and seated her on the bed. The young woman thanked her for her kindness and sat docilely. Yoruichi paused to watch Ichigo's intended bride for a moment before taking a seat next to her on the bed. "Has Ichigo told you why he wants to marry you?"

Orihime shook her head, looking down at her clasped hands. "I assumed it's because of my father, though Ichigo has yet to explain it properly to me."

Yoruichi gave a laugh. "I don't suppose he will explain it to you at all. You might as well learn that men never explain anything to their wives unless they are prodded."

There was a knock at the door before three men entered with the tub and pails of steaming water. Yoruichi ordered them to place it all in front of the fireplace, all the while watching the worried look on the younger woman's face.

"Is it wrong to be unsure of the future? I don't know Ichigo very well and can't imagine what my life with him would be like." Orihime was silent for a moment before she blinked in surprise at herself, stuttering out an apology for her rude remark. Yoruichi merely laughed, waving her apologies away.

"It's understandable. I will say however that in all the time I have known Ichigo, I have never seen him act this way."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I saw the way he was looking at you in the chapel. He had a yearning look on his face."

Orihime blushed furiously at the older woman's words, much to her delight, which set her off in another fit of laughter. She patted her hands before continuing. "You don't have to be afraid. He's not a monster and would never hurt you intentionally. And secretly, I think he's starting to like you."

Orihime gave a small smile and thanked Yoruichi for her reassurances. She merely waved away her gratitude, pulling her onto her feet and nudging her towards the bath. "Now, lets get you ready for a Highlander wedding."

…

After all that, the wedding went off without a hitch.

Ichigo was relieved to say the least. Honest to God, he didn't know what he would have done if there was another fear of hers he had to appease. She had looked enticing in his colours, the plaid draped over her dress matching the simple white blouse and red skirts. Her hair bound in curls had framed her pretty face, her bewitching eyes looking at him questioningly, almost as if seeking his approval. Stunned by her beauty, he'd jerked his gaze away from hers and settled it on his followers. He'd noted the grins on his men's faces then and scowled, masking his reaction to his bride.

She still captivated him even now as he watched her speak with Yoruichi, enjoying how expressive her features were and her soft laugh. He couldn't help but think of what lay ahead. The few times he'd kissed her certainly had not been nearly enough. He turned to Kisuke and asked him the location of the cottage.

Orihime watched the festivities as Laird Urahara's men shouted jokes and laughed with Shinji and the others. She was moved by the camaraderie that she saw, and between the jovial atmosphere and the delicious food, Orihime found that she was genuinely enjoying herself. And when Laird Urahara joined in with amusing stories about Ichigo and his commanders when they were growing up, Orihime couldn't help but laugh with delight, picturing her husband as a young boy with the same fierce scowl he was giving his brother. The night came to an end soon enough though, with Ichigo rising from his seat and holding his hand out for her to take. She took a deep breath before taking it, rising amidst cheers and whistles from everyone which brought yet another blush to her face, following Ichigo through the hall and the keep, heading out the front door.

The cool summer night felt lovely on her skin after the excitement in the hall.

Neither spoke as they set off towards the hills to the west of the keep. She was glad for the silence between them so that she could think. It was well and truly done now; she was officially Ichigo's wife with no hope of turning back. They may not have much between them to base a lasting marriage on, but she was determined to give it her best and be a good wife to him. After all, here with Ichigo was her chance to have the family that she had always wanted.

Her mind set, Orihime hurried after Ichigo and grabbed his arm, taking hold of his hand. He glanced down at her and her breath caught as she realised anew how handsome her husband was. She blushed under his intense gaze and tried to turn his attention by asking him where they were going.

"There is a nearby cottage where we will spend the night."

Orihime was silent for a moment as the fullness of his words sunk in, and she tried to remain calm. They were married and now and her maid Elspeth had advised her that when she became a wife, she would have to fulfill her wifely duty of sleeping with her husband. She had also advised Orihime that if she were a good woman and lay very still, the ordeal would soon be over, but as to what the ordeal consisted of, Orihime wasn't sure. They ascended up a small hill and in the moonlight, Orihime could see the cottage up ahead. She tightened her grip on Ichigo's hand as the unknown loomed ahead of her. She prayed for strength and reminded herself that she was committed to being a good wife.

Ichigo could feel his bride trembling beside her and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer into his side. He'd never taken a virgin to his bed before, the few women he'd known having been well-versed in the art of seduction, and he reminded himself to take it slow with his new bride, not wanting to scare her out of her wits.

He pushed open the door and saw that Kisuke had indeed been true to his word. There was a small fire on the verge of burning out in the fireplace, a tray of cold meats, fruits and cheese on a small table in front of the fireplace and a huge bed covered in Kisuke's colours. He ushered her in before him, closed the door and then leaned back against it, his gaze on her as he waited for her to look at him.

Orihime shivered, turning and noting that the fire had almost died out. She looked up and met Ichigo's eyes, his expression unreadable in the dimly lit room. "It has gotten quite chilly in here, I should probably add some more wood to keep the fire going."

Ichigo shook his head and pushed away from the wall, moving closer to her. "I'll keep you warm tonight," he promised.

Orihime blushed at his words and stared helplessly up at him. She held her hands at her sides, clenching and unclenching them as she watched him uncertainly. "I-I'm not sure of what I'm supposed to do," she whispered, taking a shaky breath. He gently clasped her chin so he could look into her eyes, the whites of his teeth flashing as he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Just breathe," he murmured as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. Orihime kept still as he continued to kiss her, nipping at her bottom lip after a moment and whispering for her to part her lips slightly. She did as he asked and gave a soft moan as he kissed her like when they had first met, his tongue stroking hers, tasting the sweet warmth of her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss, moving restlessly against him as the heat between them built. She followed his lead and tentatively stroked him back, so delighted by the growl that he gave that she did it again, growing bolder by the minute.

Not breaking the kiss, Ichigo wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her, carrying her over to the bed and gently placing her on it. He wanted to take her already, his hard length aching to be inside her but he kept a tight leash on his urges, not wanting to scare her. His control though was hanging by a shred; the sexy little moans she was making driving him wild. He reached for her clothes, wanting to see more of her. He undid the brooch and belt that held her plaid in place before making short work of her skirts, under blouse and slippers. He stared at the outline of her body beneath the thin chemise that she wore, his heart beating erratically. Slowly, his fingers reached for the hem of her chemise, pulling the fabric up, revealing her smooth, tantalising skin. When she was fully naked, he paused to look at her.

God, she was beautiful.

Her breasts were full, his hands itching to cup them, to stroke them, to tease them. Her waist was narrow before her hips gently flared out, giving way to long, shapely legs, legs that he couldn't wait to feel wrapped around him.

Orihime blushed under his intense gaze, turning her head to look away as he looked at her. Her body had many flaws; her breasts were too large, her hips weren't wide enough, her legs were unnaturally long for her body. She was sure that he would be disappointed with what he saw and couldn't bare to see it confirmed in his eyes. She kept her eyes firmly shut, lying still so he could do as he pleased, not wanting to further disappoint him.

She was too tense for his liking. He turned her face towards him, leaned down and kissed her, parting her lips effortlessly with his tongue as he began to stroke her. Her eyes flew open as he cupped her breasts, his thumbs gently circling her nipples, the nubs hardening at his touch. He groaned at the sight of them, leaning down to take a rosy nipple into his mouth, sucking and laving at it with his tongue. She writhed with pleasure, arching her back while tugging at his hair. "This isn't proper," she managed to say, her eyes shutting as he continued his assault.

"Shh," he murmured against her skin, "we're husband and wife now. It's permitted." He resumed the pleasurable task of tasting her, moving on to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. His hands stroked her belly, her thighs before slipping in between to the soft mound that shielded her virginity. She cried out at his touch, her knees clamping together, trapping his hand in her heat. He groaned, coaxing her thighs apart with hot, open-mouthed kisses that she returned eagerly.

She was overwhelmed with what was happening to her. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined the riotous feelings brought about by the marriage act. Her body was on fire, the pleasure from his hands, his mouth and his tongue so strong that she wanted to scream with the emotions that was coursing through her. She wanted to give him as much pleasure as he gave her but was swept away in the tidal wave of his passions. She moaned as he kissed the insides of her thighs, the muscles flexing in response. He gave a soft chuckle before kissing the very heat of her, his tongue thrusting deep to taste the sweetness of her. She screamed, her body bowing off the bed as she shuddered under the onslaught of his tongue. She begged for him to stop yet contradicted herself by arching closer to his mouth, her fingers buried in his hair in silent demand for more.

He lifted his head then, having endured all he could. He lifted himself off of the bed, his hands tearing at his buckle, his belt hitting the floor along with his plaid. He hastily stripped off his tunic and his boots before resettling himself on top of her, his hard body covering every inch of hers. He stroked the soft skin between her legs again before moving between them, pushing a little way inside. He groaned at the wet heat of her and tried to make his invasion swift. He thrust into her with a powerful surge, wrenching a cry of pain from Orihime.

She was so tight, so wet, so hot that his entire body shook, the feeling of her surrounding him utterly perfect. Gritting his teeth, he set about calming his wife, who'd tensed up under him again. Nuzzling the side of her neck, he dropped quick kisses on her neck, her cheeks, her closed eyelids, her mouth, until she slowly began to return them, her body gradually relaxing underneath his. In a low, rough whisper, he told her to wrap her legs around him, to hold him close. She complied, slightly shifting, the movement causing a hot rush of ecstasy to course through them. She did it again, and he groaned again as his control snapped.

He slammed into her, his thrusts deep, hard and urgent, mindless now to everything but giving her fulfillment and finding his own. She tightened her legs around him, holding him deep as the pleasure built until she thought she would go insane with it. She whimpered as she hammered her hips back at his, her body striving for something she knew just lay beyond her grasp.

As he heard her cry out his name in a mixture of fear and bewilderment, he moved his hand to where they were intimately joined, stroking the hard nub at the apex of her thighs. Orihime came apart as her orgasm consumed her, her body arched tightly against his as a keening sound burst from her lips, wild tremors shaking her body. He groaned at the feel of her silky muscles squeezing him, giving a harsh cry before pouring his seed into her. He braced his weight on his forearms, trying not to collapse on top of her, but she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down towards her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her light feminine scent that was now mixed with his, and pure male gratification surged through him. She was his now, completely his.

He lifted his head to look down at his wife and noticed the tears that streamed down her face. He wanted to kick himself, thinking that he must have hurt her when he had lost control. He stroked her face, his voice gruff as he apologized for hurting her. She gave him a teary smile and an endearing hiccup, shaking her head at him before taking his hand in hers and lifting it to her cheek. "It was beautiful," she breathed.

He gave her a helpless grin, lowering his head to kiss her, meaning it only to be a brief contact of the lips, but her lips went soft under his. Her lips had then parted, her tongue entering his mouth to stroke against his and he couldn't help but growl and deepen the kiss. She whispered shyly if they could do it again and the last coherent thought Ichigo had before the night was through that pleasing his wife was going to be the death of him.

He couldn't think of a better way to die.