AFTER JAMIE RESCUES CLAIRE FROM THE WITCH TRIAL

After escaping what was nearly my end, Jamie and I rode for days. Shock encased my mind for the first few, but it was not long after the night of third day that I could deny no longer that he had been watching me with those eyes since we left the Witch Trial, and Geillis.

His eyes held a very particular look of pure wonder.

"Tell me about- er- what are those flyin' contraptions called again?" Jamie inquired after a patient silence during our meal of fish and berries. He'd waited a full hour after dismounting the horses to purge his mind of the curiosity for the future of the world.

"Aeroplanes," I remind him.

"Aye," he nods then, looking into the fire thoughtfully, thinking of how such a thing could ever exist.

"They're- they will be- quite large. Like birds whose wings don't flap but rather stay straight out."

"How does it go if it doesna flap it's wings?" He chuckles, throwing the bony carcass of his fish into the smoldering ashes. I can't help but smile at his question.

"There are engines on either side of the plane," I told him, "but the best part of planes is the view."

"You know what it looks like above the clouds, do ye?" He nods at me, remembering the story I told him earlier today of my first plane ride. I nod.

"Lord," he takes a sip out of his flask, holding it up into the air as a sort of toast, to what I wasn't sure. "Ye sure have given me a fine specimen of woman."

"A specimen?" I utter defensively.

"Well ye were nothing like any other women before I knew yer secret; now I feel as though I'm toten' a precious gem. Only one of it's kind. As if I didna already know ye were special before...but now..." He silent, unable to come up with the right words. I notice that while lacquered in even the slightest bit of alcohol his natural scottish accent grows much thicker, and he's taken a few more sips from the flask tonight than the last few nights.

He see's me eyeing his poison and holds it up to me, for once not being able to read the question on my face correctly. Oh, why not?

I take the flask from him and down a sizeable gulp, not wanting to take it from him again in the future, unless he should be so kind as to offer it. I feel a gentle burn in the pit of my stomach as the alcohol takes root, not much food in my belly to begin with. Perhaps I won't need much more anyhow.

"Why are you drinking a bit more tonight that you have the past few?" I wonder out loud.

He just looks at me with those eyes again.

24 HOURS LATER

JAMIE HAD TAKEN CLAIRE TO CRAIG NA DUN, AND SHE CHOSE TO STAY WITH HIM INSTEAD OF RETURNING TO HER OLD HOME, AND TO FRANK.

No wonder he was drinking last night. He thought it was going to be our last.

The thought occurred to me as I taste it on his lips now, on his tongue as he kisses me deeply.

I also taste the salt of dried tears on his cheeks. We kissed each other desperately, trying to grasp some sort of rhythm or hold on each other but never coming back satisfied enough.

"More," I gasped a short plead when my lips were released, Jamies lips moving to my neck, hips grinding down hard into the cove between my thighs, skirts hitched up to my waist. His rubbed his manhood against me through his kilt as he sucked the crevice between my neck and shoulder. I had no interest in stopping him this time, while hickeys still are not my favorite thing. I did want it to be known that I was Claire Fraser, now and forever. And I've got the Lairds mark on my skin to prove it.

"Please Jamie," I begged once more, a little bit more umph in my voice.

We were ripping each others clothes off, throwing them wherever we may however dangerously close to the campfire. We were alone here in this valley, on a soft blanket under a very clear night. The perfect kind of night for time travel, should someone attempt the journey. I certainly shall not.

Naked as we were, and close to the campfire's singular heat, goosebumps rose on my skin and my nipples stood erect, much like Jamie. His arousal protruded proudly between his legs and as I caught side of it one thought occurred to me- I've never seen him naked without an erection. Granted we've not been married many months but, it was still a surprise to realize.

He kisses me everywhere, rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves gently with the pad of his thumb before letting his rough skinned fingers venture downward to make sure I was properly lubricated. I whimper against him and buck into the palm of his hand, unable to resist a touch I didn't know I'd craved so deeply. It'd been some time since I'd last had Jamie.

He kisses me and pulls back to survey the scene, holding himself up to my entrance with a look on his face that'd cause any woman to blush. He sighs softly and closes his eyes as his hard thickness penetrates my depths.

It'd been longer than I had previously imagined, because it feels as though I'm losing my virginity all over again. I clutch him tightly and try to hold back noises of pain at the intrusion of such size.

"Christ, Sassenach," he gasps as he bucks once, leaning down to take my lips in his once more before burying his head in my neck and pulling himself out completely. "I didna think it would be long, but if I keep at it I'll be over within a few seconds," he apologizes with a soft chuckle.

"Just try," I use my ankle to push on his ass and his thigh, pulling him in closer to me, his length once again sinking slowly into me. I hold his eyes and try my damndest to keep him there as long as I possibly could. "I'll die if you stop," I whimper in his ear as he pulls in and out torturously slow, body a few inches above mine and gentle pants already making their way past his lips. My hand tangles in his hair and the other into the grass so as not to scratch his already damaged back.

"Oy," he moans, "Claire, I canna last." He pulls out, to the tip, and I feel as if I'll unravel beneath him if he just took me without restraint. I use my ankle again and he sinks right back in with a mutual gasp. He pulls out again, quickly this time as it wasn't the first time I've used that trick. I pull him down closer to me and kiss him passionately.

"I want you," I beg, "just please be careful," I add, realizing that if he were to take me, unravel as I might, it's still going to be a painful transition from this pace.

"You're so tight, like buryin' myself in silk," he kisses me, hovering above me still, only the tip gently setting against my wet and needy entrance. "Sassenach, with a puss like silk. Does it hurt ye?" He wonders as he kisses his way down my neck, to the underside of my ear while still teasing me down there.

"Yes," I admit shyly. "Quite like the first."

"Mmm," he nibbles on my ear and squeezes my shoulders gently before he suddenly comes down with a hard stroke, reaching my womb in a single thrust. "A first time you'll nay likely forget," he growls darkly before repeating his attack with equal fervor.

It all began at that moment, both of us clawing and grasping at each other, kisses again not enough for our satiation, bodies falling together in a rough clash of love and loose grass. Gripping my thighs he continues to make vigorous love to me, arousal like a hard brass rod riding against my quivering walls. Less than a minute later I'm about to fall apart.

"Jamie," I call out his name like it's the response to any question he could've asked me, and he seems satisfied with my answer as he moans like a god, my name catching the air as if falls from his tongue.

"That's it, lass," he coos into my ear whilst I begin to spasm around him, "cum for me!" His demand hangs around us, I feel it as I obey. My whole body shakes under his grip, my cries reaching the far hills. He soaks them up.

The relentless pounding doesn't end after the initial throes of ecstasy subside, and while in reality we may have only been about this for a couple minutes, it seems Jamie was finally to allow himself his end.

Pushing himself up on his hands he looks down at me, face contorted in pleasure as the beginnings of his orgasm spread through his body like a spark before the wildfire. He moans as he buries himself deep, eyes never leaving mine. I watch the way he trembles in the euphoria, the way he gasps when the muscles contract. He tries to grasp my name in the middle of it, but all I hear is a raspy moan coated in pleasure.

Finally he collapses against me and works to pull out slowly, his juices dripping out onto the grass, as the blanket we were laid on got bunched up and moved about during all the hulabaloo.

He stays where he is, naked and on top of me, both of us slightly sweating and breathless. We simply hold each other and revel in the bliss of what we have the possibility to become. Me, Lady Broch Tuarach, and him my Laird. My husband, the love of my life.

"Tomorrow I shall take you home, to Lallybroch," he tells me. The first real smile I've had in too long.