Chronicles Of The Maca Collection

Chapter 31

“Mr. MacDonald, you are supposed to let me undress and then return to the room.”

“My love, why twould I leave?”

They were in the newest and biggest hotel in Arles. The hotel boasted of its large rooms and comforts, but MacDonald doubted it. Anna, however, did not wish to spend their wedding night on the ground. To her it would be like the Comanche. That the Comanche had a comfortable bed with coverings never impressed her.

The wedding ceremony had been preformed by the Justice of Peace, Vincent Mallory. The Rolfe family and the Schmidt family attended them. Mr. Jackson and his son Tom were keeping watch over Schmidt"s Corner.

MacDonald paid for the meal afterward and listened patiently to all the well-wishes and blessings. He wanted to be alone with Anna and now that they were, he was not going to adhere to the moralistic standards of this Earth. He doubted if all men did that anyway. It did nay sound natural.

She stared at MacDonald in surprise.

“Mr. MacDonald, it is not proper.”

“Bah! I have waited too long for this. The courtship twas yere world"s rules, but here we have a room and privacy. We should be able to bed by my world"s customs even if there tis nay a proper cleansing room.”

Anna swallowed. She wasn"t sure she wanted to know his idea of a proper cleansing room, but he was right. They were in the privacy of their own room. What difference did it make if she were without clothes?

“We have waited for over a year, Anna, and ye should call me Zeb, or Llewellyn, or Maca, anything but Mr. MacDonald.”

Anna was debating in her own mind how to address this issue. If she called him by his given name, she might slip and call him that in public.

He stepped forward and his arms were around her. “Lassie, dinna make me rip the clothes off ye.” He bent his head and found her lips, his huge hands trying to work the buttons of her dress. He almost gnashed his teeth at the delay. Anna pushed at his chest.

“Zeb, I can do that a lot faster.”

“Aye.” He began throwing off his clothes. Anna tried to reach over and put them neatly on the chair.

“Woman, I twill hang them. Ye get out of those horrible, restricting clothes.” The word horrible brought Anna up short.

“I will have you know I am an excellent seamstress. There is nothing horrible about my clothes.”

“Ye Gods, they cover ye completely and there are layers of them. It should be a one or two piece form-fitting suit.”

“Mr. MacDonald!”

He grinned at her. “Remember, I am Zeb.” He sat on the bed and pulled off his boots.

“Yere buttons are too much for me and those buttons on yere shoes look even more frustrating.”

Anna sat in the chair and used the hook to undue her shoe buttons. It wasn"t as rapid as MacDonald pulling off his boots, but once she was finished she stood. She still had three petticoats and hose to remove. She turned her back as a last attempt at modesty. It was futile.

Llewellyn was wed and this was to be a Thalian evening. He began slowly, but found the long years had built up both fire and desire. Anna felt his arms around her, his hands on her breasts and then he turned her to him, pulling her close, his tongue licking at her neck, and she felt his hardness against her, pressing, demanding. How could the man be so rock hard? She felt his hands slip down to her back cheeks and fit around them as he lifted her up against him. Then he turned towards the bed and she could feel the independent movement from below. She almost expected him to throw her on the bed, but it was a gentle lowering, his right hand moving down below, touching nerves she didn"t know she possessed. A musky smell rose off him, beguiling, heady, yet unlike anything she had ever experienced.

The first time went far too rapidly and she heard his ragged breathing.

“Wait, my darling, I twill be back. I did nay give ye pleasure that time.”

Anna ran the words over in her mind. What was he talking about? Mr. Lawrence never was with her more than once and it would be years in between the next time he exercised his rights as a husband.

Zeb was running his index finger down her face, over her lips, and then he began to touch all the other areas, and Anna found herself responding as he slipped inside of her again. This time it culminated with a loud “aaaAAAHH” coming from deep within Anna"s most inner self.

MacDonald clapped his hand over her mouth. “Ye Gods woman, ye twill have people in the entire county thinking I am killing ye.”

Anna was shaking and gasping as he pulled his hand away. He kissed her cheek, then her shoulder, holding her body up against his. At last she quieted and touched his face with wonder.

“Is that the way it is supposed to be?”

“Of course, my counselor.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Tis what we twould call our wedded mate on Thalia.” They were whispering in case other guests were now on this floor or in the other rooms.

“I have been so lonely, the ache inside twas, at times, nay bearable. Thalians need to touch, to bed, and nay could I do that here.”

“What? You are a man. They go…” Anna paused, “to certain places. Are you saying you did not do that?”

“Nay, but the times were few, and most lassies there are too small. In the first years here, I tried to stay away from too many Earth beings. I needed to learn more about the land and the way the beings here live.”

He was stroking her face, her arms, her legs and suddenly, she realized he had revived for yet another time. Anna stared at him in wonder as his hardness plunged into her.

She was exhausted as he pulled her upward. “Come, sweet one, we must use their idea of soap and water. In the morning I twill get more ere we leave on the stage.”