HANNAH
I grin slightly standing next to our luggage while I watch Jamie at the Glasgow airport Rent a Car station. It's slowly becoming awkward, because he's already been hunched over the open hood of a Range Rover Evoque for several minutes, examining it precisely. The Rent a Car guy is just rolling his eyes, behind Jamie's back of course. He's never had a client like this before in his damn life, that's for sure. Jamie closes the hood, and, sitting behind the steering wheel, thoroughly revs the engine while pricking up his ears like someone who really knows what he's doing. In the end, he nods and smiles at me. Thank god!
While we head north on the A-82 to Glencoe, I mention in jest that he got completely under the car rental bloke's skin with his tinkering. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks at me, and of course, doesn't understand what I'm referring to. Then he explains he chose the Jeep intentionally because “the field where we are going needs a strong and trustworthy car.” Oh, my! And, “the last thing he wants is to break down in no-man's-land on the Scottish Highway along the way.” Well, I don't want that either, that's for sure. An age-old memory from another honeymoon, another continent comes to my mind, about a coughing and sputtering jeep which was just about to breathe its last breath somewhere in the savannah of southern Africa. I unintentionally wince at the thought. It was long ago. Maybe it wasn't even true. At least for me, it seems downright unrealistic that that girl was also me. He turns to the side and asks with a bit of worry in his voice:
“Everything’s alright?”
"Yes" – I smile at him and raise his hand to my mouth so I can give it a long gentle kiss.
He looks at me, enchanted, and in this moment I’m sure somehow that everything in the world is as alright as possible. Just because we are together, and I would gladly entrust my life to this wonderful man. And when we’ve been staring at each other for too long, I push his chin, grinning, back to the road. Taking advantage of the fact my hand is close to his mouth, he sucks and bites my finger, but just in a playful way. I laugh, but he doesn’t. Instead, a deep longing sigh bursts out from him. I’m still learning him, and I haven't ever willingly been a student before as I am with Jamie. Like everything with him, this is also a part of the foreplay. The romance is so exciting because with him there's none of this going all day off the air and then jumping on me at night out of the blue, going all in. I'm not sure if it's conscious on his part, but he can maintain the sexual tension throughout the whole day with touches, words, and messages, so after we get to the point I almost can't stand it and my body offers itself willingly to him. I pull my hand away and try to behave, despite how hard it is for me.
Like a complete ditz, I fumble with the map and try to locate our current position. It's hopeless. I'm still geographically challenged. Luckily, Jamie helps me when he calls my attention to the fact we are just passing by the breathtaking Loch Lomond Lake. I gaze open-mouthed at the magical view, pull my window down, and take a deep breath of the chilly and enchanting Scottish air. I fidget in my seat excitedly. I can't wait to get there.
Glencoe is a small, romantic Scottish Highland village, with a single main thoroughfare, plus a few cafes and shops. Paradise for hikers, climbers, and bicyclists. And I really hope after this, mine too. Jamie drives across the main thoroughfare without stopping and turns into a small street which seems to be narrowing and rising more and more. He slows down and examines the surroundings attentively. He doesn't use the help of the map or any other orientation aids. We already left the settlement a few minutes ago, and as we pass by lonely houses, sheep bleating sounds come from somewhere. I'm getting the feeling we overshot the destination. Plus, it's slowly getting dark, which doesn't make the orientation easier. I say carefully:
“Shouldn’t I take out the map?”
Jamie winks at me and smiles.
“It’s not necessary, hon. I’ve been here before.”
“How many times?” – I ask, with some doubt in my voice.
“Once” – he answers simply.
“When?”
He sighs.
“Years ago”
"Ok" – I answer with some scepticism, scanning his sexy profile to determine if I can maybe recognise a bit of uncertainty in it, but there’s nothing.
"After the bend to the left, there are about 100 meters of uphill, and we are there. There's a beautiful view opening up to the valley. You will see it" – he answers calmly, and I'm already calm.
And really, it doesn't even take a minute before we are standing in front of a traditional slate-roofed, two-floor building built from stone. I lean forward curiously to check out the house in more detail. Jamie gives my hand an encouraging squeeze and gets out of the car. I do the same, and, stretching out a lot, look around. I shiver from the cold and chilly wind. I quickly take out my coat from the back seat and slip it on. At that point, Jamie is already next to me and helps me button up with so much care as if I'm a small kid. I smile at him and urge him on a little too.
“It’s really cold.”
“Well, welcome to Scotland” – he grins at me and hugs me tightly.
I snuggle up to him and enjoy the warmth of his body, which is still clearly palpable through the coat.
“According to Neil, sometimes the heating in the house fluctuates a bit, but I hope I can turn it on.”
"I hope so too" – I look up at him, smiling, and kiss him. His lips are sweet and hot and immediately answer greedily to the challenge. I feel I could kiss him forever. Just to stand here, in the wonderful Scottish Highlands, and kiss Jamie until the end of the world. I shiver, this time not because of the cold, but from the bare pleasure, but he misunderstands. He rubs my back a few times and whispers into my ear:
“Let’s go in the house. I don’t want you to get cold.”
I don't protest, but the surroundings stimulate my fantasy. I turn back, and leaning with my back to his chest I run my gaze over the landscape. The sight is amazing. An almost ostentatiously perfect valley with a river running under our legs, and with unending hills. Just as I imagined it. It's exactly the same as the Scottish Highlands people get to know from the TV and movies. I take a deep breath and hold it inside for a while. Jamie's strong arm wraps around me from behind.
“Shall we look around a bit?” – I ask.
He kisses into my hair, and I answer in a purring voice.
“It would be wiser to do it tomorrow, Honey. It’s getting dark quickly, and we don’t know the area. Besides, I’m sure that the sight is more beautiful during the day than it is now.”
He’s right. He’s always right. Moreover, I already almost can’t feel my toes in the ballerina shoes I put on when we were leaving. I sigh.
“Ok. Then we will discover the area tomorrow.”
From how his palms anxiously slide back and forth over my coat, a more exciting alternative than a walk is waiting for me inside.
#
JAMIE
I brought our stuff into the living room, and while Honey looks around in the house, I try to turn on the furnace. It's so damn cold in here, like in a cave. The temperature almost doesn't differ from the outside. I worry about her. She's so skinny and vulnerable, and I would never forgive myself if she got sick and came down with pneumonia or something like that. She didn't say a word when we stepped into the stone cold house, but I saw as the edge of her mouth shuddered. I follow Neil's instructions and try to bring this damn ancient furnace to life. According to Neil, the cabin was renovated. They modernised the heating, installed new carpets, and also changed the windows. It's ridiculous! Renovated, huh?! Evidently in the 1700s, around the time of the Battle of Culloden! I check the switches at least twice, but for now, I can't do more. We need to wait for the radiators to warm up.
I go up the stairs and find Honey in the kitchen opening the cupboards. She smiles at me, and I feel the sun rises immediately. I almost can't stand the excitement. My heart beats in my throat; my pulse is sky high. The whole situation, the fact we are married, exceeds my wildest imagination. I can't believe that finally, after so many years of fantasising and hopeless anticipation, she really belongs to me. I think neither emotionally nor in any other possible way have I succeeded in making myself aware that this indeed is reality. I'm afraid I'll do something stupid and screw the whole thing up. A crazy euphoric frenzy is about to burst out from me. But, I'm terrified of scaring her. Oh my god! I just figured out what the issue is! What if she realises one day our marriage was a mistake, that she made the wrong decision when she became my wife because I'm still just a screwed up freak? I feel as cold terror flows over my mind. My hand grasps my own throat, and I take a few desperate, hurried breaths. What if she realises it's not me she needs? No. I wouldn't survive it. There's no way back from here anymore. At least for me, there's not.
While I'm struggling with my own doubts, she twitters sweetly that it's not a problem it's cold in the house because the kitchen is fully outfitted and she will make some hot soup which will warm us up. Usually, I don't have an objection against hot soup, but dammit, I definitely have different plans for how I will warm up my wife. My hands are shaking from the desire to touch her. I need some kind of confirmation immediately. I need to feel her mouth on mine, her skin, and make sure she wants me too. It takes serious effort to hold back the wild man in me because I would most of all like to rip off her clothes, throw her over my shoulder, and toss her on the bed, and not to let her out of there anymore. But, instead, I take a few deep breaths, step up to her, and wrap her gently in my arms. I look for her mouth, desperately, and only after quite a few minutes, when both of our mouths are swelling from the sensual kissing fight, am I able to talk.
"Soup is a good idea, hon and there are still a few sandwiches that we bought at the gas station. But I would prefer if you don't take off your coat for a while. At least until this ice chamber warms up somewhat."
She blinks up at me impishly, and as she bites her lips with head tilted to the side, the muscles around my groin twitch uncontrollably. My back slumps over a bit at the voluptuous feeling, and I think she feels what’s going on in my pants too because she nuzzles me provocatively.
“Well! My husband doesn’t want me to take my clothes off. And on our honeymoon no less!” – She keeps teasing me.
“If you only had any idea about the thoughts which are flashing through my head about all the things I want to do with you naked!”
She throws her head back and laughs. She's damn adorable. I have to get things going if I don't want to present myself in front of my wife in wet underwear, like some kind of horny teenager, on our honeymoon. That would be bloody awkward. Or not? Actually, I don't even give a shit. I don't mind at all if she knows how much I'm dying for her, how crazily I long for her. My body betrays me anyway. Honey is the only woman with whom I don't even have a chance for self-control.
“We could light a fire until then” – I point to the fireplace sitting in the middle of the living room. – “What do you think?
“It’s a great idea” – her eyes light up enthusiastically.
“I saw some kind of shed next to the house. I will check if I can find wood.”
“Great. Until then I will try to throw together some food for dinner.”
She claps her hands a few times in a lively manner. She seems so excited, and she's so innocently girly, it's seriously hard for me to rip myself away from her, even for a short time. But finally, I still pull myself together and get going on the fire lighting project.
My suspicion was correct. The small shed next to the house is full of unchopped firewood. There’s a huge stump in the middle, and I soon find the axe too. The energy pulses in me. With wild joy, I place quite a large piece of wood on the stump and strike down. The wood splits into two parts willingly under the blade of the axe. Yes! What a feeling! I put a new piece on the stump and strike down again. I have no idea how much wood will be used up in one night, but I suspect the fireplace must be just as old as the house is. Its effectiveness must be on the level of the 1700s, so we will need a lot of combustion so I can keep at least the living room and our bedroom fuelled. I enjoy the chilly cold, and the physical strain is downright good for me. I push up the sleeve of my pullover and chop the wood with all of my might until quite a large heap collects around the stump. I haven't been swimming or running for many days, and the lack of physical exercise always has a bad effect on me. Sports, burning off my energy, has been a part of my therapy since my childhood. I always knew how to channel the aggression coming from my frustration in the most effective way while running and swimming. I feel that the power and activity are overflowing from me. It will probably be good if I tire myself out a bit and let off steam before I go back to the house.
Honey's face is glowing when I put the basket full of fuel down next to the fireplace. I see as the flame flickers under a small pot on the stove. Apparently, she was serious about the soup thing. I check the radiator, but the change in it is almost impalpable. Shit! We really need the fire if we don't want to freeze overnight. I start to fill the fireplace; Honey, kneeling next to me, gives me the pieces of wood in my hand. I stuff the wood shavings I found in the shed underneath, and I honestly hope that the flames will light. The shavings catch fire immediately and soon crackling and sizzling can be heard from the inside of the fireplace. The smaller pieces of wood start to glow too, and a relieved sigh bursts out from me. Mission completed. Honey kneels close next to me, and then I turn my head to the side. Even I can read the honest admiration in her gaze. Shit! She's looking at me as if I just performed some kind of heroic feat. It's stupid, I know, but it still feels damn good. I embrace her shoulder and pull her to me. She leans her head on my shoulder, and for a while we just stare into the flames quietly. The pleasant warmth slowly transfers to us, and together with that, the tension starts to melt away in me too. I begin to relax, and I feel we left the whole world behind us and that something new is starting today. Something good. Something special.
#
HANNAH
The heater doesn't work, but I already don't mind it at all. Since Jamie lit a fire in the fireplace, I feel as if I have been dropped in the middle of a fairy tale. And, the best thing about it, this time I am the princess of the tale who married Prince Charming. This house is perfect for my romantic dreaming. Looking at it from the outside, people might have the feeling they have travelled a few hundred years back in time, but the traces of careful hands are visible inside. The primary theme is set off by wood tones. The rustic, solid wood kitchen fixtures, even though it's not really my taste, perfectly fit into this environment. The exposed brick surfaces and the copper kitchen accessories conjure up a perfect mood for this small hidden paradise. After it turned out we can't count on the heater, my caring husband started to light a fire in the living room, and upstairs in the bedroom too. I was peeking out the kitchen window when he went out to the shed, and, like someone obsessed, started to chop the wood. It was sinfully sexy as in the chilly cold, with his pullover sleeves rolled up, the alpha male burst out of him, and he jumped on the wood chopping with his full power. I seriously had the feeling he enjoyed the work. My improvised soup almost boiled over during my peeping. In the end, we slurp the hot soup in pullovers, crouching next to the fire. I feel I've never been so uninhibitedly happy as I am now with him. His closeness fills me with the feeling of perfect safety and until now unknown, uninterrupted infatuation. Every single intimate hour spent together makes me more sure that saying yes to him was the wisest decision of my life.
After we finish eating, Jamie goes down to check the furnace one more time, and I go into the bathroom. I take a shower with lukewarm water because there's nothing else, so I'm ready in a few moments, and then I wipe myself dry, teeth chattering, with a cotton towel brought from home. My silk nightgown doesn't even figure in at this temperature. Maybe it's a libido-killing thought, and it doesn't remotely fit in the honeymoon plan, but I'm so cold that after some thinking, I still put my pullover and pants back on. While Jamie is showering, I hurry up to the bedroom where the fire is already lit in the fireplace. The room warms up slowly: I guess it must be around 16-17 degrees. If we don’t let the fire burn out by the morning, the climate in the room will actually be pleasant. However, I’m now lying under the blanket, with chattering teeth, but sublimely happy, and admire the solid wood beams running across the ceiling, watching the playful shadows of the flames from the fireplace on the wall, and wait, lovesick, for Jamie to finally warm me up.
I hear noises of fumbling and packing from downstairs. I think he's filling the fireplace with wood, and then I hear his approaching steps on the stairs. Even the thought that he will soon step into the room sends throbbing chills up my spine. Finally, the door opens, and he steps in. He stands in the doorway for a moment and looks around the room with furrowed eyebrows. He closes the door behind him, checks the fire, then his pervasive gaze stops on me. He's wearing only a t-shirt and underwear. My mouth is left open from the sight as I scan over his long muscular legs, and my gaze spends a bit more time on his groin than would be polite. He starts off towards me with measured, definite steps, like a predator. If I hadn't known him for an eternity, if I didn't trust him more than myself, then this dark as night look with which he fixates on me could actually scare me. But it's not the case. I would entrust even my life to him. He stands next to the bed and asks huskily:
“Are you cold?”
"Yes, quite." – I confess, enchanted by his intense gaze. He nods and licks his lower lip. Father in heaven! Explosion hazard!
"Take your clothes off" – he says in a quiet, but firm voice.
“Take my clothes off?” – I ask oafishly, while my gaze falls on his boxers. The thin fabric is none too effective at covering his growing … interest.
“Get naked” – he orders firmly, and I start pulling down my pants and panties under the blanket.
At the same time, he slips his t-shirt off and fixes his hungry eyes on the moving quilt. I peel off my pullover too and drop it on the floor next to the bed. I blink up at him ardently. Jamie steps next to the bed, and with torturing slowness, pulls down his boxers. It doesn't matter how many times I've seen him naked, the honest admiration at seeing his dominant manhood flows over me even now. I take a deep breath from the amazingly exciting fact that the cold clearly does not affect him. He stands ready for deployment in his full splendour. Apparently, I have a more significant effect on him than the unpleasant temperature dominating the house!
“I want to see you. Open up the blanket!” – He growls the command.
"But …" – I try to protest over the cold, but actually, I'm not serious about it. Fatal temperatures or not, there's still nothing I won't do for him.
“The most effective way for me to warm you up as soon as possible is if both of us are completely naked.”
"Ahh! I read about that somewhere" – I say, grinning, and with shaking fingers, I lift up the edge of the blanket.
He also grins sardonically, scans my whole body, and then slips under the blanket. He presses his hotly burning body onto mine and arranges the blanket on us. He takes my leg between his thighs, presses his pulsing rod on my stomach, takes his hand under my head, grabs my hair, and holds me stably. He squeezes me into the mattress, glides his full lips voluptuously over mine, at which point the outside world disappears for me, and I moan a plea under him. He sighs my name, starts feverishly kissing my mouth, and then behind my ears all down until my neck. Inside me, a fever explodes. The blood in my veins boils into lava at his touch. The outside coldness already disappeared. My body burns into flames because of him and wants more. I press my hips demandingly on his.
“Jamie!” – I moan, begging.
"Hmm?" – He asks and continues to apply slow sensual licks to me.
Oh my god! This is the cruellest torture I've ever experienced. I will go crazy if he doesn't make me his immediately. Why is he doing this? How is he able?
“Please!” – I moan.
“What would you like?” – He asks, whispering into my neck.
"You know exactly" – I whisper back and try to spread my thighs so I can wrap around him but in vain. He presses me down powerfully on both sides.
“I want to hear it” – he tortures me further, while I feel that I’ll lose my sane mind if something doesn’t happen soon.
“Oh, Jamie! You are cruel!”
“Say it!” – He urges me further, while his groin is tightly pressed against my lower stomach, pulsing with desire.
I scream out quietly in carnal pleasure, dig my nails into his back, making him moan too. I wonder why it’s so hard for me to say what I want out loud. Why do I feel it’s so awkward to hear my own voice as it murmurs sensual words to the only man who matters? I would like to overcome it and release my own inhibitions, but it’s harder than I imagined. I clearly feel as the colour of my face turns red. I try to swallow the lump in my throat, and I say in a dying voice:
“Make love to me! I want you.”
“How much?” – He keeps stretching the string.
Rascal.
“Crazily. So much that I’m almost losing my mind.”
“What do you want exactly? What should I do?”
Is he serious now? Shit! I will take revenge for it sometime.
"I would like to … feel you inside me" – I whisper into his mouth with tightly closed eyes and a fire red face.
He releases the pressure and lifts up a bit so he can get between my thighs. His stiff penis makes wild circles around my swollen entrance. He grasps himself with one of his hands and caresses me right there. He thrusts his hips forward, but only a bit, giving a preview of what is waiting for me.
“Like this?” – He asks.
I sigh falteringly and nod my head.
“Look at me!” – He orders. – “You don’t have to feel ashamed. I want to see you when you say it. I will do exactly what you ask of me, Honey.”
His lush words get me close to the peak. My breath is uneven; I haven't been able to control the lubricious wincing of my muscles for a while. I open my eyes and slowly raise my gaze to him. Collecting all my strength, I say out loud:
“Deeper. A lot deeper.”
A raw, satisfied growling burst out from his throat, and he starts to slide upwards. I sigh from the luscious strained feeling when he finally fully penetrates me. I unintentionally wiggle under him to find the ideal angle.
“Pull up your knees!” – He groans.
I do what he says. I pull up my knees and hook my ankles on his hips. Oh, yes, Mr Hailey. It's different now. He interlaces his fingers tightly into mine, presses them above my head, and pulls himself back slowly. I'm just about to complain, when he thrusts his hips with all his strength forward, filling me entirely, conquering me and demanding me for himself. I scream out from the unexpected wave of pleasure caused by his absolute closeness. My back tenses into an arc under him, and I'm gasping for breath.
“This is what you we