𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐁𝐞 | 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 ✅

21 - Where They Belong

He took charge very quickly, standing us both up and then turning us around. He kissed me harder, pressing forward. I took a step backwards and the backs of my knees collided with the mattress of the bed. I lost my balance, falling backwards. 

Jamie came down on top of me, propping himself up using his elbows. We both laughed into each other's mouths, wanting so much more than just lips but the two of us unwilling to press the other.

"Christ, ye're bonnie." He whispered against me, drawing back just long enough to take a quick glance over me.

I flushed in embarrassment despite the fact that I had all but agreed to marry the man who was above me.

"Jamie?" I asked him quietly, speaking into his mouth as our tongues twisted together and our lips collided in a brilliant display of affection and desire for one another.

"Hmm?"

"Can we go to bed?"

Jamie stopped kissing me, looking at me with a curious glint in his eye, "to bed or to sleep?" He smirked.

"Well -"

He climbed off of me and went to turn down the covers of the bed, gesturing for me to get in beside him - he hadn't taken off his shirt or his trousers, so I didn't remove my dress - I didn't even loosen my corset.

"I willna touch ye any more than I already have, Eira," he told me in a very serious yet affectionate tone, "not until the night when we are man and wife."

Man and wife. The thought sent a thrill to me.

"But I want ye to," I whispered as he put his arms around me and pulled my body against his, my back flush against his chest.

"Aye, and believe me, I want to... but I willna. Ye're much too important for this not to be official."
He was beyond thoughtful, but that did not stop me from wanting him.

"Could we not even -?"
"No." He paused, "Eira, ye ken as well as I that this should be special. Sacred, even. What a man does with his wife is a sacrament, and I intend to treat it as one. Nay, on the night when ye and me finally become one, then I will have ye."

There was no arguing with him, I knew. When he used that tone of voice, he was impossible to convince otherwise.

I hummed in reply and closed my eyes, "a'right, Jamie... can we go to sleep, then?" I wasn't angry with him.

Jamie smiled, I could hear it in what he said next, "aye, and sweet dreams to you, Mo Chridhe, my beloved, my darling." The room was silent for several minutes, and just before sleep claimed me, I heard him whisper three words, "I love you."