Unintended (The Sin Trilogy 5)

“Our son. You’re very comfortable throwing those two words around.”

“Because it’s only a matter of time. You’re going to give me a son. Hopefully more than one and together they’ll one day lead this brotherhood.”

“So stuck on having a boy. Why a son? A daughter is just as capable of leading.”

I can see what a strong woman Westlyn is. I’m not surprised that she’d call me out on this.

“I don’t disagree, but my daughters will be precious to me in a way that differs from my sons. I would never let them be placed in harm’s way.”

“How do you know that you’ll have separate feelings about your girls? Won’t you love your children equally?”

“I will, but I feel very differently about my sister than I do my brothers. I think the same would be true for my sons and daughters.”

“You’re using plurals when you talk about both genders. How many kids do you want to have?”

I like that we’re discussing children. I don’t think we’d be doing that if she were planning to turn down my proposal. “I don’t know. Several.”

“A couple is two. A few is three. I consider several to be four or more.”

“Minimum of four.” Probably more, but I don’t want to frighten her.

Her eyes widen. “You expect me to carry and give birth to that many bairns?”

“Of course. And I plan on putting the first one in your belly as soon as possible.”

“I wouldn’t have a say about that?”

Westlyn grew up in a brotherhood. She knows this is how we do things. “It’s what will be expected of us by both brotherhoods. We’re obligated to quickly bind our union. You’re aware of our practices.”

“I am, but it’s so archaic. I thought that maybe you wanted something less… old-fashioned.”

“This is our life. We are a people of tradition and this is one of them. Marriage treaties and the babies resulting from those unions bring brotherhoods together in harmony. They establish peace when nothing else will. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing to tell our children one day that the brotherhood they’ve grown up in and their mother’s brotherhood were once at war, but our marriage and their existence brought peace to the two of them?”

“I’ve never known peace. We’ve been at war with The Order since before I was born. There’s never been a time when I wasn’t in danger. I don’t want that for my children. I don’t want that for anyone’s children.”

“It’s another reason that makes your marrying me the right choice.” She doesn’t have an argument for that.

“Since you haven’t agreed to marry me, our prior agreement is still intact. That means you’re going to the shooting range with me, and you aren’t going to put up a fight about it. Get up and shower.”

She grasps her white silk gown. “And wear what? This?”

“My wife will never be looked upon by any brother while wearing something like that.”

“Are you going to keep calling me your wife although we’re not even engaged?”

“Hold up your left hand and look at your ring finger.” Her lips press together in a tight line, but she does as I order. “You’re wearing the engagement ring I placed on your finger last night. You could have taken it off, but you didn’t. We’re engaged. Now get up and shower.”

Westlyn tugs at the neckline of her gown, pulling it up to cover her cleavage. I love her chaste behavior. It actually turns me the fuck on. “Will Mrs. Bruce be back to help me dress?”

“No. She’ll be preparing our breakfast while you get ready.” I think Westlyn may misunderstand Nan’s role. “I had her come to help you last night because it was supposed to be a special event. She only helps the Hendry women prepare for important occasions.”

“You didn’t tell me what I’ll be wearing today.”

I suppose I didn’t. “You have new clothes hanging in the closet. I suggest that you choose something warm. There’s a cold front moving in. Probably going to get snow later today.”

“Who bought the clothes for me?”

“My mother.” And she was happy to do so. She’s very excited about my taking a wife.

Westlyn touches the plunging neckline of her gown again. “Did she choose this as well?”

“Aye.”

“She picked it for a virgin who was being claimed by her mate.”

I think she understands now. “Aye.”

“It’s lovely.”

“She chose your intimates. I chose your lingerie.” And I’m eager to see her wear it.

“Lingerie?”

“Yes, and not all of it is intended for a virgin.” I like the sweet stuff, but I also like naughty. Some of the pieces I chose for Westlyn are sexy as fuck.

Her eyes widen. “Oh.”

“Would you like to meet my mum? Maybe talk to her about her experience as a treaty bride?”

“I would love to talk to your mother.”

I’m glad to see how eager she is to meet her mother-in-law. “I’ll introduce you after we get back from the shooting range.”

Westlyn looks at the towel around my waist. “Are you finished in the bathroom?”

“Aye.”

She watches me as she slides off the side of the bed, and I smile when she dashes to the bathroom and shuts the door with a loud thud. Well, I wanted an inexperienced virgin. I got one. A very timid one.

Westlyn has gone her entire life without sex. She must be horny as fuck. How could she not be? “How old are you?” I call out to her through the door. Can’t believe I didn’t ask that when I was considering which woman I’d take for a wife.

“Twenty-three.”

Untouched for twenty-fucking-three years. Bet her toes curl in under thirty seconds the first time I put my hands on her. Giving Westlyn her first orgasm, hearing her moan with ecstasy for the first time… it’s going to be so much fun.

“How old are you?” she calls out.

I open the door. “Twenty-eight.”

“What are you doing?”

She’s already in the shower, but I have a clear view of her through the glass despite her hands being used as a shield to hide from me. Small waist. Curvy hips and thighs. Full breasts spilling over the top of her hand. I am not disappointed. And I’m tempted as fuck to drop my towel and get into the shower with her.

“I don’t want to continue speaking to you through the door.”

“Then you shouldn’t have called out and initiated the conversation. Get out.”

“You don’t think a man has the right to look at the woman who belongs to him?”

“Even if I say yes to your marriage proposal, I won’t belong to you. I am my own person.”

She’s delusional if she believes that misconception. “That’s where you’re wrong, Westlyn. When you take my name and my cock, you will become mine… my property. But that also means you’ll become my treasure to protect. I will place myself between you and whatever danger presents itself. No harm will ever come to you or our children. That’s my vow to you.”

She stares at me for a minute before dropping her hands, giving me an unobstructed view of her naked body. I’m not sure what it means, but fuck, I take advantage of what she has on display; this

woman is gorgeous. Everything from the top of her head to the tips of her pink toenails is perfect. She’s exactly what I would have chosen in a mate.

I feel my dick beginning to harden, and I don’t want to go there. Not again, when I know she’ll offer no relief; my cock doesn’t want my hand. “I’ll wait for you out there.”

“All right.”

I’m not certain because the glass is fogging up, but I think I see a smirk on her face. I’d love to kiss it off and replace it with a mouth agape, begging me to give her more.

It’s going to happen, Westlyn Breckenridge Hendry. It’s only a matter of time.

A broad smile spreads across Mrs. Bruce’s face when Kieran and I come into the kitchen. “Good mornin’, Nan.”

Her face lights up when Kieran kisses her cheek. The affection I see between the two is surprising. “I didn’t expect you to be up so early this mornin’.”

“Tried to sleep in, but my doll wouldn’t let me.”

“First of all, don’t call me your doll. And second, I didn’t do anything to keep you from sleeping.”

“Trust me. Even if you were unaware, you definitely did… keep me up.”

My cheeks warm and pulsate; I can’t believe he said something so blatantly cheeky in front of this sweet old lady.

“Come to the table. Both of you need a hearty breakfast to restore your energy.”

I wonder exactly what it is Mrs. Bruce believes we did last night to need all of this restoration of energy.

Kieran pulls out the seat left of the captain’s chair at the end of the table. “You will always sit and stand to my left.”

Another ridiculous archaic tradition? “Haven’t you heard of gender equality? Women can sit and stand wherever they like.”

“You will sit to my left. You will stand to my left. You will sleep to my left… unless we are in a bed where the door is to the left. In that case, you will sleep to my right. It’s imperative that you are always positioned where I can best defend you if we are attacked. Because I’m right-handed. Not because I’m trying to suppress your gender.”

How was I to know that he wasn’t trying to define my gender role by placing me to his left? “Well, you should have just said so.”