Highlander’s Wicked Desire (Wicked Highlanders Book 2)

by Fiona Faris

  Moving back over to the bed, he crawled in next to Elizabeth and pulled her close. Her head moved on the pillow rolling toward him, revealing a crimson stain. Blood… Reaching up to examine her head, his hand came away scarlet. Jumping up out of bed, he moved to the trunk and pulled out one of the sheets to make bandages. He cleaned the wound and bandaged it as best as he could. He was not a healer and was concerned that his rudimentary ministrations would not be enough. He prayed that she would be alright. He cursed his horse for bolting on him. He could not leave her alone, so he was left with no other choice but to wait out the storm until the tenants returned.

  “I have ne’er seen a lass with such a propensity for misfortune, other than Marra perhaps.” He stood looking down at her and marveled at the similarities between the two women, not in looks or coloring, but in spirit and character. Elizabeth groaned and stirred, attempting to regain consciousness. “Such strength,” he murmured shaking his head in wonder. How did she get out here? He reached down to smooth the hair back from her face. “Rest now, lass,” he whispered. He crawled back in beside her and wrapped his arms around her once more.

  James drifted in and out of slumber, keeping an eye on Elizabeth’s condition. When the parritch had finished cooking, he tossed in the fruit and honey, the way Elizabeth preferred it, and dished some out for each of them. He tried to awaken her so that she could eat. “Elizabeth,” he kissed her forehead softly. “Elizabeth,” he kissed her cheek. “Elizabeth…”

  “James,” she murmured.

  “Aye, lass.” He smiled, relieved that she was coming around.

  “James,” she opened her eyes and peered up at him.

  Tears sprung to his eyes, he was so overcome with the sight. “Och, lass,” he brushed the hair back from her face.

  “What happened? How did you find me?”

  “I dinnae ken. I found ye in the rocks durin’ the storm. How did ye come tae be out here?”

  “I do not know. I remember dreaming of the man who killed my mother then waking up out on the rocks. I tried to get to safety, but I could not.” She reached up and touched her head. “Again?” she whispered, wincing in pain at the touch.

  “Aye, lass, again.” He checked her bandaging, then aided her in sitting up. He slid in behind her to support her back, then handed her the bowl of parritch. “Eat, lass, regain yer strength.”

  Elizabeth obeyed, and they sat there together as she ate. When she was done, they laid back down in each other’s arms. “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered.

  “O’ course, lass. Ye are cared for more than ye ken. E’en William was afeared for ye.”

  Elizabeth chuckled softly. “I cannot see William showing concern for me.”

  “Aye, he is distrustful o’ the English, tae be sure.”

  “With good cause from what I have been able to ascertain.”

  “Aye, but ye are nae as they are.”

  Elizabeth laid her head against his chest. The feel of her in his arms, safe and warm, was more than he could resist. He leaned his head down and brushed his lips against hers gently. She responded, turning her face up to him, deepening the kiss. A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he was betrothed to another, but it was not enough to stop him. He did not love his betrothed, but every part of him cried out for Elizabeth. His heart quickened at the feel of her, and he lost all sense of anything outside of her in that moment.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispered, backing away in an effort to do the honorable thing.

  “Nay,” she whispered pulling him back to her.

  “I cannae take yer virtue as I cannae wed ye, lass.”

  “I have no memory of whether I am wed or nay, whether my virtue is intact or nay. I do not know how I got here, or what may happen upon the morrow. What I do know is that you and I are here together now. What I know is that I love you now. Whatever I am now, in this moment, is yours, yours and yours alone.”

  “Lass,” he whispered leaning his forehead against hers.

  “If this is all that we will ever have, if this is all that we will ever be, then I care not a jot for my virtue. I give it freely.”

  “Och, lass,” he whispered, and then melted into a kiss. “Untae ye I surrender me soul.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elizabeth felt aflame with desire. Her heart beat fast in her chest as she pulled James’ face to her own. “Me Sassenach lass,” he murmured against her lips as her hands ran through his hair.

  “My Scottish islander,” she murmured, arching her back as his fingers brushed across her breasts through the flimsy fabric of her nightdress. She moaned deep in her throat, gripping his hair, as his lips traveled down to her throat.

  “Are ye certain, lass?”

  “Yes,” she nodded, holding herself to him.

  She pressed her full length against him, unable to resist the feel of his hard-muscled body against her own. “Elizabeth,” he whispered against the V of her neck.

  His breath against her sensitive flesh caused her to shiver in desire, gooseflesh covering her from head to toe. “James,” she moaned his name in reply, arching up toward him.

  “I dinnae want tae let ye go,” he groaned lowering his lips down to her breasts.

  “Then don’t,” she replied on a gasp of pleasure. Her head pounded with every beat of her heart.

  Lost in a world of passion and pain, Elizabeth moved her hips against his, moaning as his hands roamed over every part of her body. They moved down to the hem of her nightdress and eased beneath it, sliding up her legs to the warm welcoming flesh at their juncture. He ran his fingers up the flat of her belly, up to her breasts. With little more than a flick of the hand he removed the nightdress exposing her body to the firelight. He sat up and looked down at her, his eyes telling her of his pleasure at the sight. She blushed but held his gaze.

  James pulled at the belt of his plaid and pulled it free, tossing it to the floor. He pulled his shirt up over his head and dropped it with the plaid. Elizabeth gazed in wonder at his muscled form. His chest rose and fell with every breath. Her gaze moved down to his lean tapered waist. James smiled and lifted her hands to his chest. She smiled shyly in return and explored every line of his torso with her fingers. James leaned down and reclaimed her lips, his hand caressing her neck. His lips moved down to the peak of her breasts, and he took each of the hardened buds into this mouth, laving first one and then the other with his tongue in turn.

  “James!” Elizabeth gasped, threading her fingers through his hair and clasping him to her breast. Her body ignited with feelings she somehow knew that she had never experienced before. Though her memory was gone, she could not imagine ever forgetting something like this. James lifted his head, moving back up to her lips; his hands came up to take the place of his tongue, stroking her nipples.

  James lowered his weight down upon her, and she spread her legs to wrap them around his waist. Elizabeth felt the head of his hardened shaft brush against the inside of her leg, and she shivered in anticipation. She lifted her hips without even realizing what she was doing, her soul was so consumed with desire for him.

  “Lass,” he groaned as his shaft came to rest at the opening of her innermost heat.

  James pressed forward into her gently, sliding the full length of his shaft inside her as her hands came around to clutch his shoulders. She cried out in pain for a brief moment as their naked bodies melted into each other. To ease the pain of his passing, he used his fingers to bring her to the heights of passion, rolling and plucking her nipples one after the other. He kissed her deeply, moving with his tongue and teeth down the side of her throat, down to her breasts as he began to move within her.

  Once the pain passed, Elizabeth, overcome with passionate fervor, reached out with her hands and caressed the hardened muscles of his body. She traced the lines of his arms, shoulders, back and buttocks, loving the silky hardness of his skin against her own. “James,” she cried out as he began to move more swiftly inside of her. What had b
egun as a painful pressure, had turned into the most unfathomable of delights. Every move of his body sent ripples of ecstasy coursing through her. By the time he reclaimed her lips with his own, she was trembling on the precipice somewhere between what felt like life and death. She whimpered his name once more as she clutched his body to hers, her fingers digging into the muscles of his buttocks.

  She moaned as he drove himself into her over and over. Driven mad with passion, Elizabeth lifted her hips up to meet him thrust for thrust. James groaned as he drove himself into her over and over again, each time harder than the time before. He kissed her deeply, their tongues matching their bodies’ movements, thrusting in and out. James caressed her body with his free hand while he used the other hand to hold himself up so as not to crush her.

  “Elizabeth,” he groaned into her neck, his hot breath on her skin causing ripples of delight.

  “I love you, James,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Have I hurt ye, lass?” he hesitated.

  “No, do not stop!”

  Reassured, James pressed himself deeper into her hot wet sheath. Elizabeth throbbed around his hard shaft as it nearly split her in two. She screamed out her pleasure as she fell over the edge of the cliff into oblivion. Groaning, James bent his head and dug into her shoulder with his teeth as he released his seed into her womb. Panting, he leaned his head against her neck and whispered, “I love ye tae, lass.”

  * * *

  James lay back against the pillows, Elizabeth draped across his chest. He caressed her hair and listened to her breathe quietly in slumber. Blood had soaked through her bandage and he felt a stab of guilt for having caused the wound to reopen, but in truth, he would not have traded what they had shared for all of Scotland. Kissing the top of her head, he eased her off of him and arose to rebandage her wound. When done, he slipped his shirt back on and opened the croft door to look out at the passing storm. The rain still fell all around them and there was no sign of anything or anyone approaching. He turned back to gaze upon Elizabeth’s sleeping face. I cannae let her go, and yet I must. How am I e’er tae look in tae the face o’ another and feel such love e’er again?

  He had been cursed to love twice in his life; he doubted that it was possible to be blessed with a third. He stood watching her in the doorway for a long time, just soaking in the sight of her, knowing that he might never witness such a bonnie thing ever again. E’en if I were nae betrothed tae another, she must leave me for her own people. No longer able to bear such a thought, he moved to rejoin her upon the bed.

  Leaning over her, he kissed her awake. Elizabeth opened her eyes and smiled, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “Nae, lass, ye’ll break yer wound open again,” he warned for her sake.

  “I care not,” she insisted, pulling him down upon her. “If this is all I am allowed of you, of us, then I want every moment that I can possibly have.”

  Naked, aching, fevered with need of her, James did not argue. Lying down upon her, he entered her in one hard quick thrust. “Elizabeth,” he whispered as she cried out beneath him. “Me bonnie Sassenach lass. Nae matter what may befall us, I will carry ye with me always.”

  “Oh, James,” Elizabeth cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  This time James knew that it was not from any real physical pain but was from the very same pain that he felt inside at the thought of their destined separation. The fear of what was to come made what they had in that moment all the sweeter for its intensity. Wrapped up in one another, they made love throughout the night again and again, only stopping to slumber from exhaustion before awaking to do it again. When morning dawned, they bathed each other in the rain and then lay in front of the fire on a blanket to dry.

  James traced the features of her face, then her neck, trailing his fingers down her chest to encircle the round globes of her breasts, down to her navel, disappearing into the curls of her mound. Elizabeth moaned and rolled over to lie across his chest kissing his face, then his neck. She glided down the length of his body kissing her way down to his chest, mirroring with her lips what he had done with his fingers. When she reached his nipples, she laved them with her tongue, and then nipped at them with her teeth. She had grown brazen in her assault on his person, and he enjoyed every moment of it.

  James chuckled, growling mischievously in his throat as he gently rolled over on top of her. Elizabeth giggled in delight as he nuzzled her neck, tickling her with the light shadow of whiskers that had grown across his face overnight. He moved, kissing, licking, nipping, and tickling his way down to the honeyed place between her legs. He dipped his tongue into the sweet nectar and groaned with desire as it danced along his senses. Gasping, Elizabeth grabbed him by the hair and pressed his tongue deeper into her folds. Growling, he kissed her with passionate fury. Elizabeth screamed his name over and over as he robbed her of all sense. He lifted his body to hover over her, positioning his shaft where his tongue had just been. He pushed forward in one fierce, powerful thrust, sending her soaring into the heavenly heights.

  He continued to move inside her until she fell over the edge into ecstasy once more, taking him with her. “James,” her cries turned to evocative whispers. They slipped into exhausted slumber lulled by the fire’s glow.

  James was not certain how long they had slept when he was suddenly awakened by the sound of voices outside of the door. “Elizabeth,” he whispered. “Elizabeth!”

  “What is it?” she asked groggily.

  “Get dressed,” he commanded without taking the time to explain. Wrapping his kilt around him, he grabbed his weapons and slipped out of the door.

  “Me Laird?” Andrew MacDonald greeted in surprise. “What brings ye tae our humble croft?”

  “The weather forced us tae take refuge in yer home. Me apologies, me friend.”

  “The laird is always welcome in our home,” Andrew waved away his apology.

  “I thank ye for yer hospitality and will replace everythin’ that was used,” James promised.

  Andrew puffed up as if he had been insulted. “Ye will do nae such thing, Laird. What is mine is yers, and I will nae hear another word on the matter.”

  James nodded, fighting back a smile. He did not wish to offend Andrew further by laughing. “Ye have me gratitude. I must beg another favor from ye.”

  “Name it, and it will be done.”

  “I have need o’ yer horse tae return tae the castle. Mine was lost in the storm.”

  “O’ course.” Andrew immediately dismounted and handed the reins to James.

  “I thank ye, me friend.”

  “A word o’ caution, Laird.”

  “Aye?”

  “When we left the castle yer Keeper, William, was rather upset about a set o’ sails seen off o’ the coast. He was cursin’ yer absence keenly.”

  “Sails?” James’ heart felt as if it had stopped.

  “Aye, Laird.” Andrew nodded. “It appeared that they were headed toward Skye.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “They are headed tae Skye?” Leaping into the saddle, James paused only long enough to ask Andrew for one more favor. “The Sassenach lass from the shipwreck is inside recoverin’ from a head wound she received in the storm. I ask that she be allowed tae remain here with ye until I return. Dinnae let her out o’ yer sight and say nothing tae her about the ship. She cannae ken anythin’ about its presence until I have ascertained the reason for its bein’ here. Are we o’ agreement?”

  “Aye, Me Laird. I will do all that ye have asked. What should I tell the lass about yer departure?”

  “Tell her I was needed at the castle, and that I will return for her when I can.”

  “Aye, Laird,” Andrew nodded, patted the horse’s rump in farewell, and turned to enter the croft.

  James spurred the horse toward Knock Castle as fast as it would carry him. His heart raced with the uncertainty of what might be making its way to their shores. Elizabeth had said that a man had killed her mother and th
at her father had beaten her. He was not about to turn her over to such men if her dreams where true, regardless of what it might mean for him. The one thing that he could not do was risk his people falling into the hands of the English. If it was English soldiers that came seeking their dead, then he could point them in the direction of the kirkyard, while covertly ascertaining more about Elizabeth.