When Bridgid entered the room and pulled the door closed behind her, the door latched with a heavy finality. She had seen the chamber before in passing, was even in it chasing out Ramsey's bedfellow. She thought back on that night, on the embarrassment of him catching her in here, on him telling her of his plans with Marion. She shuttered to think of how many lovers he had had.

She scanned the room. On the massive bed the covers had been pulled back and her best sleeping gown and robe were set out. Bedside candles and candles on the mantle burned, casting a soft, dancing glow in the room. A small fire crackled in the hearth. A decanter of wine and two goblets sat lazily on a small table near it. Stealth servants had obviously come and gone.

She crossed to the bed and picked up her gown, wondering if she had time to don it before Ramsey came. After a moment of indecision, she quickly shed her clothing and put on the gown and robe. Then she removed the flowers and pins from her hair and ran her fingers through it, combing out the heavy golden waves.

She approached the fire, drawn to the heat; though she was not chilled, it served to relax her. Resting her forehead on the mantle, she let her apprehension drain into the wood and stone. Without thinking, she rolled her shoulders in slow, concentric circles, letting the movement ease away the rest of her tension. After some moments doing this, she thought herself almost calm. Almost.

When she heard the door latch it seemed distant in her ear as if through a long tunnel. She lifted her head from the mantle now keenly aware of his presence.

Ramsey approached her on silent tread. Behind her now, a breath of space separating them, he placed his hands on her wrists and slowly brought them up her arms, stepping into her, smelling her hair. He breathed a barely audible, "hi." He felt the tension in her arms and massaged her shoulders while he dipped his head to the side of her neck. He quickly moved her hair and placed a light kiss where her neck met her shoulder. Then he parted his lips and kissed her again, tasting her lightly. She swallowed nervously.

Ramsey sensed her obvious apprehension and stepped back, moving to the table and filling the goblets.

"Wine," he asked, not really asking, as he handed her a goblet.

Bridgid cracked a nervous smile as she gladly accepted the goblet and quickly downed some. She stared into the fire again, trying to calm her fears. Yet, her nerves were battling a strange warm stirring within her body and she found herself not entirely afraid. Ramsey moved to stand directly beside her. Their arms touched but nothing more. He wanted to be near her to allow her to get used to his presence.

They stood together. It seemed an interminable length for them both. Ramsey thought to cool his ardor for her but the picture that he saw when he entered the room and the smell and feel of her when he drew near only made him want her more. The time seemed to lengthen Bridgid's fears and she turned to face him just as he turned to face her.

He caressed her cheek, smiling at her warmly. "You needn't fear me."

"I do not," she replied too quickly, barely swallowing the lie as her pulse throbbed in her throat. "'Tis merely the uncertainty."

Ramsey took her goblet and placed it along with his own back on the table.

"Do you know what is about to happen," he asked.

"More or less," she replied.

"Which is it? More or less?"

Her answer, what answer there was, caught in her throat. He stared at her, then drew his hands to her shoulders removing her robe. She glanced at her robe crumpled on the floor.

"You looked warm," he said in response to her unasked question.

Her gown was merely a thin veil hugging all of her curves. He leaned into her, rubbing his body lightly against hers. He trailed his knuckles along her cheek and jaw line, rubbed his thumb along her lower lip. Then he kissed her, playing with her lips gently, barely touching them, almost chastely. He moved to the corners, then on to the tip of her nose and the apples of her cheeks, pecking lightly, whisper-soft.

When he returned to her lips, he opened his, tasting the sweet wine on hers, while his hands were slowly massaging her back through the gown, up and down the length of her spine, kneading her taut muscles.

Bridgid felt a warm heaviness growing in her belly, a strange and stirring pressure that was both heavy and tight between her legs. His touch was magical, comforting; his lips were so inviting. The feeling began to chase away her nervousness. She met his kisses with her own, timid at first, then growing bolder as she opened her mouth and met his tongue with hers. They mated lazily, tracing languid lines inside lips and plunging inside to taste and touch.

Ramsey felt her tensions easing and began to draw the hem of her gown up her legs. Distracted, Bridgid did not notice her gown until it was at her waist. Her hands reached for his to push her gown back down.

"Relax," he whispered into her mouth, then just as quickly returned to kissing her.

She wrenched her lips away from his. "Can't I keep it on?"

"No," was all he said, as he continued to lift her gown, rubbing her silky soft skin as he drew it up.

He knew her nerves to be stretched taut again and he quickly stepped back from her to pull the gown over her head to discard it and just as quickly pulled her body back to him so that he could resume kissing her, a sensation he knew she loved and found comfort in.

He returned to plying her with kisses as he traced his fingertips along her back and her pert round buttocks, following the delicate lines there. He wanted desperately to be able to look at her body, to study it, but he knew that in stepping away and doing so now, she would see the lust in his eyes, glimpse the thoughts in his head and she would surely flee. Soon, he assured himself. He would look at his leisure very soon and for as long as he wanted. She was his, after all.

Her nervousness at being so exposed was fading rapidly, giving over to the burning warmth that grew between her thighs. It felt…wonderful. It was confusing, too, as she had been told that lovemaking was painful. But, all of the sensations she felt were…too good and she quickly discarded the notion of pain as a warning mothers must give against promiscuity.

Ramsey felt his arousal painfully. He was growing desperate to be inside of her. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. She tried to quickly slip under the covers to shield herself from his gaze, but he stopped her.

"No. Let me look at you."

He stood for a moment, taking in her exquisite form. Her breasts were larger, rounder, and firmer than he could have imagined. Her waist was incredibly small. Her belly was smooth and tight. He stared briefly at the golden curls that shielded her virginity then led his eyes to trail down her long legs. Her long, curly hair fanned out upon his pillows, just as he had imagined it would, framing a face and a body that, in all of his dreams he could never imagine, was so perfectly formed.

His eyes met hers. They seemed like pools of blue, nervous and unsure. He moved quickly to shed his own clothing, first undraping the plaid from his shoulder, then swiftly removing his shirt. With no hesitation he unpinned his plaid and let it drop.

Bridgid studied his body as he shed his clothes. His chest was strong, firmly muscled leading to a lean waist. The lightest layer of dark hair covered his torso, trailing to a line that led to…Her eyes lowered to his arousal and just as quickly looked away. Perhaps this would hurt. She could not imagine how they would fit together, though she knew that they should. She looked, then, at his long legs, muscular and hard. The man did not appear to have an ounce of fat on him, no softness anywhere.

He knelt, then, on the bed and she instantly began scooting toward the far end of the bed, away from him. He caught an arm and stayed her. He wanted to climb on top of her, lay between her legs where he had been dreaming of being for days now. But, he had only to look at her to know she was not ready. Instead, he lay beside her propped on an elbow, resting his head in his hand.

He studied her for a moment, wanting to taste and touch her everywhere. Then he began by trailing his fingers lightly down her throat, tracing them along her collarbone. She swallowed again nervously. He caught her eyes with his, saw her fear and uncertainty, and leaned into her, nuzzling into her ear.

"Relax, sweet."

Then he followed the path his fingers had taken with his mouth, kissing and tasting his way down her throat. His fingers were blazing a new trail around her breasts, circling, cupping, plying her nipples until they became hard peaks.

Bridgid's uncertainty was slowly giving way to a delicious feeling of warmth and desire. She didn't quite know what was happening in her body, did not know what to expect next, but knew that she wanted more of it, more of him touching and tasting. And when his mouth moved lower to taste a nipple, she gasped. Ramsey stopped momentarily to look up at her. Her eyes were closed and they were running back and forth under heavy lids. Her body shook ever so subtly while moans escaped her lips. He smiled as he began to lick and suck, laving her nipple. She felt like she was coming out of her skin. The feeling was too delicious.

When he moved to taste her other nipple his hand moved lower, tracing a line down her navel, moving in a languid circle around her belly button, then moving lower. When his fingers moved inside of the curls at her sex, she tensed again, grabbing his hand with one of hers and trying to pull it away. But, his hand would not be moved. He returned to nuzzle into her ear.

"Relax, my love. I assure you, you will like it."

He claimed her mouth again and made love to her with his tongue while his fingers found her moist heat, plunging in and out as she moaned.

She forgot to fight him when he began playing with the nub at the very center of her desire. An intense pressure and heaviness flooded into her there and she grabbed the sheets with her hands to steady herself. She moaned without thinking, rocking her pelvis to meet his fingers. Something kept building and building and she was heedless to stop it. Until an incredible bursting like a thousand hot flames reverberated throughout her body and she cried out his name, not knowing what she wanted or needed.

Pleased that she had reached her first climax, he quickly moved to lie on top of her, spreading her thighs with his legs, and lowering himself down so that the tip of his arousal met the moist lips of her sex. He grit his teeth as he grabbed her hips, preparing to thrust inside of her. He knew this would hurt her but also knew there was no avoiding it.

In one swift movement he penetrated her, tearing the shield that was her virginity. She cried out in pain. The ecstasy she had been feeling was shattered in an instant. She tried desperately to scoot away from him, to get him to release her. He saw the tears spilling from her eyes.

"Ramsey, you are hurting me." She pushed against him.

"Shh, I know, baby. I'm sorry. 'Tis only this first time. I promise. Just lay still and the pain will ease."

In truth, he needed her to lay still. When she moved, even a little bit, it only made him want to withdraw and plunge back into her again. But, he could not, he would not until she grew accustomed to feeling him inside of her.

He kissed away the tears falling down her cheeks and whispered to her that it would feel better soon. And even as he was saying it she felt it to be true. The painful throbbing had begun to dissipate. He found her lips again and kissed her until she was thoroughly distracted.

"Is it any better, love?"

"Yes," she squeaked out. "It is not so very bad any more."

And, without telling her, he began to move. He slowly withdrew and then thrust inside of her again. She gasped, but it did not sound as strained.

"Am I hurting you?" He searched her eyes for the truth.

"Not so very much," she returned with an embarrassed smile.

Then he smiled, kissed her on the tip of her nose and found her lips again. He made love to her with his tongue as he made love to her with his arousal, plunging in and withdrawing. She was so incredibly tight, so warm and wet. Her tight sheath hugged him as he thrust in over and over again. It felt so good to be inside of her, to be a part of her, better even than he dreamed it would be. As he drove towards his climax he could feel her insides quivering, humming, vibrating with its own building need.

"Put your arms around me," he said as he wrenched his lips away from her. "And, pick up your legs. Put them around me, too."

She did as he bid without even thinking. She was no longer embarrassed, no longer nervous. He was her husband. This was good, right.

As soon as she lifted her legs, he was able to plunge inside of her even further and he groaned in hot ecstasy as he spilled his seed inside of her. She gasped again, feeling the same white-hot flames cascading throughout her body.

Ramsey collapsed on top of her. He felt spent emotionally and physically. From the moment he had decided she would be his she had thwarted him at every turn. He had never worked so hard to woo a woman, never wanted a woman more than he wanted her. Now, he lay in confused awe. He had never experienced that kind of a climax with a woman. He had always assumed that sex required a certain measure of knowledge to reach its peak of pleasure. But now he knew that it had nothing to do with that. After all, his little Bridgid had none. Her body's innocent response to him was electric. He could not believe that she was his wife. He wanted to savor the feeling, wanted to savor her.

Bridgid braced herself to hold Ramsey's weight. He lay atop her as they both sought calming breaths. She had no idea what to expect, had no idea if this was typical, had no idea if she was good, had no idea if she had pleased him. She had a vague notion that he was good. And knew with a certainty that he had pleased her. She could not believe that he was her husband. She wanted to savor the feeling, wanted to savor him.

Yet his weight grew heavy on her. She moved her hands to his shoulders and tried to gingerly nudge him off.

He propped himself up and looked down at her, smiling.

"Sorry."

He finally withdrew from her and slid to her side. He collapsed again, this time on a pillow but he left a knee wedged between her legs and he roped an arm around her waist, holding on to her tightly. He did not want to stop touching her, did not want to let her go.

She assumed it was typical to compliment one's spouse after lovemaking and Ramsey seemed distracted or reluctant, so she volunteered.

"That was nice."

Ramsey grunted, trying to swallow a laugh. "I assure you, that was much better than nice," he supplied.

"Well, since I had nothing whatsoever to compare it to, I assumed 'nice' was fair."

"Of course," he said, as he turned slightly to meet her eyes. "And, it was your first time. You should never experience pain again."

"That is good to know."

"I shall try my utmost to give you time to heal, to be gentle until the tenderness fades. But, you will have to forgive me if I find it hard to keep my hands off you," he said, as he squeezed her to him. "You are too beautiful, wife, the very picture of every man's fantasy."

She smiled at that. It was certainly nice to hear.

"In fact," he continued, "if I continue touching you, I may not be able to help myself from showing you dozens of others ways to make love. Would you be appalled?"

"Dozens?"

"I don't know the exact count but many, many, many."

"And will it be nice?"

"Much better than nice."

"Then I don't know that I would be appalled, not with you, never with you."

He smiled at that. It was certainly nice to hear. Then he heard Bridgid yawn and knew it would not be long before she nodded off to sleep. Before she did, he had one more thing to say.

"You know, I heard somewhere that without love, this kind of passion can be fleeting."

He let her words returned back to her hang in the air between them.

She flinched, knowing she had said that and wondered where he was going with it.

"Yes," she finally said, "I had heard that somewhere, too."

"What do you think?"

"About love or passion?"

"Both."

"I, I..I don't know. I'm not sure."

"Come now. I think you are."

"And what of you?

For a brief moment he considered how to answer. "Do you know me well enough to admit that I would never go back on my word to anyone, whether it be the clan, your father, my father, you?"

"Yes. I suppose that is true."

"And would you concede that I would never force you to marry if it were not a love match in every way?"

She could not concede. She was not sure that he loved her.

"What are you saying?"

"I should think it clear by now." He stared into her eyes, warm, blue pools, waiting. "I love you, Bridgid." And, before she could move to protest, he captured her mouth with his, sealing it for the rest of the night.

THE END