"Aroused ye to what?" she demanded suspiciously.

"Ye've aroused my lust," he said, honestly answering what he realized was an honest question. "I want to couple with ye, lassie." Gently he cupped one of her breasts, caressing it lightly.

Eyes wide, Fiona stared at his hand, amazed as his long fingers brushed over her skin, sending tiny tingles throughout her whole body. It was certainly not an unpleasant sensation, she mused, wondering at the same time what he expected of her. Their eyes met as she looked into his face. It was a strong face. Long in shape with a cleft in his chin and an aquiline nose. His cheekbones were high, his eyelids heavy, his mouth a narrow elongation.

His hand moved up from her breast to take her chin between his thumb and his forefinger. He brushed his lips across hers, and she caught her breath softly. Angus Gordon smiled, and the smile extended to his dark green eyes. "Yer not afraid, are ye, lassie?"

"I never imagined…" Fiona carefully considered her words. "I don't know what to expect, my lord, but it would seem that if I please ye, then ye will please me."

He couldn't help but grin at her. This was hardly the sort of conversation he had expected to have with the brazen hussy in the midst of his seduction. "Ye talk too much, lassie," he said even as his mouth took firm possession of hers. He kissed her hard, wanting her to understand that he would not be deterred in his purpose to have her maidenhead. Holding the naked little witch in his arms, he could hardly resist her as it was. She smelled delicious, and her skin was silken and sweetly resilient beneath his touch. He pulled the pins from her hair, then let it tumble around his hands.

It was her first real kiss, and it was wonderful, Fiona thought as she let herself drift within the security of his strong arms. Her belly kept knotting and unknotting. She was being assailed by a hundred different sensations. The kiss was harsh, yet it was sweet. Her mouth softened beneath his instinctively, her lips parting, their breaths mingling. She sighed as the pleasure deepened. Whatever had caused her to faint earlier had been dispelled in the magic of his kiss. Finally he broke off the ardent embrace, for he knew she had much to learn.

Fiona stared into his face. " 'Twas verra nice, my lord. I like this kissing. Did I do it well? I haven't done it before, but it seems to come naturally to a body."

His breeks had never seemed so tight. Laying her back upon the bed, he stood and began to divest himself of the remainder of his garments. "Aye," he agreed, his eyes never leaving her face, "kissing is a most natural thing, and ye do it well, lassie." He pulled his boots, hose, and breeks off. He kept his face impassive as his drawers fell to the floor. He kicked them aside as her eyes widened, although she said nothing.

Could a man be called beautiful, Fiona wondered? His limbs were long and straight, and pleasingly curved where they should be. He had nicely shaped buttocks, round yet firm. He turned back to her, slipping again onto the bed. Fiona glimpsed his male appendage, pale and bobbing from a nest of curls as dark as her own. He saw where her glance had fastened itself.

"Are ye afeared again, lassie?" he asked her in a quiet voice. "Ye don't have to be afraid of it, ye know. He's a braw fellow, my Gordie is, and will give ye much pleasure once he's become acquainted with ye."

To his utter amazement Fiona reached out and touched his manhood, her face thoughtful as well as curious. He flinched with surprise, and she said in a serious voice, "Does it hurt when I touch it?"

"No."

"Then why did ye start?"

"I would not have thought a virgin so curious."

"Do virgins usually quail at the sight of yer Gordie, then?"

Her fingers slid along his length, and he swallowed hard.

"I don't recall," he muttered.

He felt as hard as iron and near to bursting beneath her gentle yet bestirring touch. Her boldness was confusing to him. It wasn't that he wanted her shrieking and swooning with fear, but should not a virgin be more respectful of his male member? Just a few moments ago she had fainted at his touch, and now here she was, boldly stroking him with fingers as skilled as any whore's. He would have remonstrated with her but that he could see her actions were actually born of curiosity, and the fact that she truly did not know how a respectable lass should behave in such a situation.

His fingers closed tightly about her wrist. “Enough, lassie. Yer touch sets me afire with lust." He pushed her back into the pillows, kissing her hard again.

Fiona pulled her head away. "Show me where it goes," she demanded of him.

"Jesu Christus!" Angus exploded. "Is there not any delicacy in ye, lassie? What kind of thing is that to ask a man?"

"I don't like the uncertainty," Fiona told him. "Ye kiss me and ye caress me till I can bear it no longer! Will ye not take my maidenhead and be done with it, my lord?"

She was afraid! He realized it in that brief moment, but of course she would deny it and claim once again that she was not craven. He moved his body so that it was partly covering hers. His hand gently touched her cheek. "When a man makes love with a woman, lassie," he began, "it should not be a quick coupling. There is little pleasure in quick coupling. Particularly the first time. It should be slow, and hot, and verra sweet between them." His lips brushed her lips and then her purpled eyelids. His hand plunged into the mass of her dark hair, taking a fistful of it up, inhaling the clean fragrance of it against his nose.

Fiona shifted nervously like a mare newly brought to the harness. Why did his voice sound so intense? Why did her breasts ache and her nipples feel so irritated against his smooth chest? His presence was suddenly very overwhelming. She bit her lip in her effort not to cry out. Her eyes closed as if in doing so she could shut this all out, but the very scent of his masculinity assailed her nostrils. It was a powerful and exciting fragrance that seemed to call out to something equally primitive within her. Her hands smoothed slowly over his shoulders.

He kissed her again, but this time he gently forced her lips open and pushed his tongue past her teeth to find her tongue. Fiona shivered violently as their tongues touched, sleeking back and forth, intertwining in an amorous first mating. She sighed and arched her body, pressing it more tightly into his.

"Ummm, 'tis nice," she murmured against his mouth. "Ah!" she sighed as he broke off the kiss, his lips spreading kisses across her smooth chest and down to cover her breasts. Her belly contracted almost painfully as his mouth fastened itself over a nipple, tongue teasing tenderly, lips drawing gently upon her flesh. "Oh!" she half moaned. "”” Oh!" His fingers were teasing the curls on her Venus mons, pushing between her nether lips.

"This is where it will go, lassie," he told her, raising his head from her sweet young breasts. Gently a single digit invaded her now trembling body, pushing itself carefully into a place she had not until just a moment ago even known existed. Reaching the barrier of her maidenhead, he stopped, withdrawing the finger slowly.

Fiona's eyes were wide with a mixture of shock, surprise, and a budding desire. "Yer Gordie is too braw a fellow to go where ye just went with yer wicked finger," she told him.

"Nay, lassie," he reassured her. "Yer wee slit will open herself wide so my Gordie may forage in yer honeypot for its sweetness." His dark head moved down her torso, spreading kisses as it went. Once again his finger slipped through her nether lips, this time touching her in another place she hadn't before known. " 'Tis yer sugar button," he told her, teasing at the small fleshy nub.

Fiona's head whirled with shock as a wave of delight spread over her entire body, rendering it weak with her pleasure. How was a finger capable of giving her such enjoyment?

"Don't stop!" she begged him, a burst of stars exploding behind her eyelids. "Oh. Ah. Ah!" She was suddenly weak with gratification.

"So ye like that, do ye?" he murmured low as he swung himself over her slender frame. He spread her thighs with firm hands, and then, while she was still in the throes of dawning awareness, he grasped his manhood, positioned it, and leaning forward over her, pushed firmly into her body. She opened for him like a fragrant flower, encasing him inch by inch within her velvet sheath. Angus Gordon groaned with anticipation.

She felt it. It pressed relentlessly into her, thick and hot, driving deep. Fiona had never imagined such an invasion of herself. Instinctively, she stiffened.

"No, no lassie," he whispered hotly in her ear. "Don't fight me now. Ah, yer sweet! Sweet!"

He pushed onward, finally meeting with the barrier between Fiona Hay's girlhood and womanhood. Swiftly, he crossed it, thrusting as far as he could, then resting.

She felt a sharp sting of pain that spread down into her thighs and up into her chest, rendering her breathless for a long moment-and then the burning melted away. Fiona gasped, drawing a great draught of air into her lungs, which she almost immediately expelled. "Does it hurt all the time?" she managed to ask, finding it impossible to understand why anyone would enjoy this if it did.

There was an almost pained expression in his eyes. "No, lassie," he whispered against her lips, kissing her softly. He began to move upon her, pinioning her lightly, his big hands pressing down upon her wrists on either side of her head. With an almost primitive instinct she began to move in rhythm with him. He stared down into her face, amazed at the savage beauty of it as she began to experience passion. He was surprised that despite her inexperience he was finding great pleasure in coupling with this girl. The tightness in his groin was building and building.

The pain gone, Fiona closed her eyes again. The deed was done, and her virginity shattered. There really had been nothing to be afraid of, and she began to relax, joining him in the erotic cadence he created. She broke his light grip and put her arms about him, drawing him closer to her. The stars were beginning to sparkle behind her eyelids again, and a feeling of growing exhilaration began to fill her entire being. She cried out, and his mouth descended fiercely upon hers, intensifying her euphoria. She could feel him, hard and demanding within her. Her nails dug into his shoulders. "Ah! Ah! Ah!" she sobbed, and then she sensed the impending burst of his lust, and his juices flooded her, mingling with her virgin's blood. In that instant Fiona soared, her heart beating wildly, clinging to him. It was wonderful! She drifted mindlessly for what seemed several minutes, aware of their ragged breathing, aware that their bodies felt hot and wet, and were still intertwined. Finally he withdrew from her, lifting himself off her body, his big hand tenderly smoothing the tangle of hair from her face. Fiona opened her eyes and looked up into his face.

"Ye were verra braw, lassie," he told her with a small smile.

She smiled back. "Yer satisfied, then, that I was indeed a virgin, and my debt is paid to ye, my lord?" Fiona said mischievously.

"Ye were a virgin, lassie," he agreed, "but ye have just begun to pay yer debt to me. Have I not warned ye that twenty head of cattle are verra expensive? Yer a brazen little thief, Fiona Hay, and I'll have my full measure of ye. I'll give ye and yer sisters yer living free, for I owe that to yer grandsire Hay, but the cattle are another matter."

"Yer a hard man," Fiona said softly.

"Jesu!" he swore as softly. "Is there no end to yer wiles, lassie? Yer flirting with me."

"I don't have any knowledge about being a man's mistress," she answered him pertly. "Is a mistress not permitted to flirt with her lord? At least in the privacy of their chamber?" Her dark eyelashes fluttered at him wickedly, and her mouth was suddenly pouty.

"I don't know the rules of this game we play myself, lassie," he ; responded with a chuckle. "I've never kept a mistress."

"I suppose 'tis no different than keeping a wife," Fiona said, "ex- | cept, of course, 'tis not respectable to be a man's mistress."

"It is not respectable to steal a man's cattle either," he reminded her with a grin, then ducked as Fiona whacked him with a pillow. Angus Gordon climbed from the bed. " 'Tis time ye got some sleep, lassie," he told her, and drew the coverlet over her.