“Robbie, Brodie, go an’ see she’s alright,” Finlay said, calling her two minders to her side.
Reluctantly, Freya let out a sigh. They were standing just at the end of the pebble path leading up to the keep. The noise and excitement of the arrival of the laird and the lad had just about abated. The only remnants of the fray were some stray geese and a duck waddling about from one end of the yard to the other, pecking at grain.
The large form of Robbie loomed before her, casting a hefty shadow over the girl. Freya had thought that he had come to return her to the keep, but to her surprise, the broad lad just smiled. He cocked his head back to see the laird going inside the castle and waited just long enough for him to be out of earshot. Then, he smiled.
“Dinnae fash, lass, we’ll find him!”
Chapter Fifteen
“Wallace! Come back!” Freya hollered. Her voice echoed in the lonely dry lands that bordered the Craig clan. “I need to talk to ye! I need tae ken!”
The emotion in her voice resonated in the air, bounding from side to side. She had run all the way out here, with Robbie and Brodie hovering behind, nervously keeping guard.
Kicking off her slippery mules, she had run barefoot, like a child, over the parched lands, her petticoats hitched up high.
The meeting ground was the only place she could think to find Wallace again. It was near the clan perimeters and was likely to be where they would have taken him. If Wallace was not there, Freya did not know what she would do.
As she ran through the stifling summer’s day, it was with her heart in her mouth, blood pounding away until her head felt light.
Her feet led the way through the barren landscape, with its decaying grasses and heat, until she reached their meeting place.
Almost straight away she saw him, crouching by the burn. Freya’s heart prickled with a barely contained fury.
“Wallace!” she burst out. Wallace instantly looked up, startled. Emotions raged all around her young head. She was perplexed. Just at the sight of him, her body was reacting. She ached for his touch. But at the same time, the confusion she felt was palpable.
“Dinnae fash. I came alone. The lads are back there waiting,” Freya said, pointing vaguely to the direction of the keep, where the distinctive shapes of Robbie and Brodie could just be seen.
“Freya, I—I didnae try to kill yer father. Ye must believe me!” started Wallace, instantly getting to his feet.
Freya looked at him searchingly. How long had he been out here, she wondered—his clothes were a mess, all torn and bloodstained from the battle.
“Really?” she asked in a cutting tone. Inside, her senses were at war. She desperately wanted to believe him, but it didn’t look good.
“I got these fighting my mother’s men!” insisted Wallace, his honey-colored eyes flashing deeply at hers. “I helped save yer father, but I couldnae save Padraig too…”
“That’s not what my father said,” Freya said abruptly. She wanted to turn away, but it wasn’t so easy. She found herself staring into his eyes, his amber gaze, tempting her deeply. But something inside shook her, and she lowered her eyes.
“Please Freya, listen. Ye ken how I was going to tell ye something afore yer father showed up?” he pleaded. Despite herself, Freya found herself looking into his face. His sincerity shone through. Reluctantly, she nodded.
Wallace continued, “Well, I was trying to tell ye afore, but I got waylaid by Padraig an’ yer father,” Wallace said.
Freya felt that old prickly feeling race around her as he drew close. But she pushed him away.
“Go on,” she said icily, her green eyes glowering with suspicion.
“Well, I told ye the way I was brought up to hate...but I never kent the whole tale until Finlay told me. I was always told that Finlay was a murderer, but I didnae ken that Seoras was the one who had started it all. That he killed his defenseless brother in cold blood. An’ I dinnae…I feel so ashamed…” he broke off, looking hurt.
“What dae ye mean, ye dinnae ken?” said Freya, incredulous. “Everyone kens what happened!”
“Aye, maybe in the Craig clans they dae, but nae where I live! Freya, I wisnae told the truth by anyone my whole life, and noo I find out that…ma father was a murderer!”
Wallace’s eyes filled with tears, which he tried to blink back.
Now Freya was uncertain. “So ye mean ye ne’er did intend to hurt us?” she asked, sending a skeptical glance his way. “Really?”
Wallace pulled away from her gaze. “Freya, I’d love tae tell ye that was true, but tisnae…” he began. Freya stared at him, entranced. “The fact is that when I first came here, I was part of a plot to bring down yer father,” he blurted out.
Then he stopped and looked anxiously at Freya. Her face wore deep shock. “But I promise ye, it’s all in the past now, and that I had abandoned it…”
Something in his demeanor shook her painfully. Freya could tell just by looking at him that he was sorry. But she needed to be sure of everything. All the same, a little of her suspicion ebbed away, and now she looked thoughtful.
“So, what about the fire?” she said. “It wasn’t an accident, was it? Did ye start it, Wallace?”
“Nae,” said Wallace. “I didnae start it, an’ I was never happy about it; but yer right that it wisnae an accident either. Twas all planned by ma maither, but I swear, I didnae want any part of it. I’m done wi’ them all now!”
It was a big speech, and it seemed to take the strength from Wallace. In spite of her shock, Freya put her arm around the boy. Her doubts were fading away. Wallace’s explanation made sense, and his eyes, gazing into hers so intently, were true.
“There has to be some way of putting things right. Ma father must see ye are on our side now!” said Freya, finally capitulating.
“Aye,” said Wallace, and without another word, they were kissing.
The sensation of his touch slid over Freya’s skin like warm honey. He caressed her with his fingertips, bringing his lips down passionately to her exposed shoulder blade.
“Och, Freya,” murmured Wallace, as he delved down ever further, exploring her upper arms and neck with his fingers and his tongue.
Before she knew what was happening, Freya was unlacing her stays—slowly at first, but then as fast as they would come.
The warm sunlight shone its blessing, making it very easy to lie back and just slide into a tunnel of bliss.
Then she undressed him, removing his tatty léine and revealing his clean, cool skin. Her hands covered his flesh, caressing it. His silken touch felt so good, and his masculine contours were everything she had hoped for.
She slid her fingers down as far as his sporran and then stopped, laughingly teasing him, until his eyes nearly popped.
His limbs were firm and muscular, and his skin soft and smooth. Freya loved the way that it felt against her fingers and her flesh as they lay together.
Within minutes, his kilt was abandoned and the two were fully ensconced together, unclothed, on the dry straw that lined the copse.
Wallace ran his fingers through her hair and delved deeper into her petticoats.
Panting, he laid on top of her, nudging his way in gently.
“It’s my first time,” she said hesitantly as he pressed up against her. She could feel him against her inner thigh, firm and strong. Without a word, he entered her fully, as a sweet rush of ecstasy consumed her.
Freya wasn’t expecting this. She wasn’t anticipating so much. What little she had heard about sex had been vague and off-putting. She sometimes heard it was merely something to be endured. But as he moved within her the allure of his touch burrowed in deep.
Wallace drew close, planting a kiss on her lips as he stared deeply into her eyes. She could hear the feel the beating of his heart. The sound pulsing out and sending vibrations through her body.
Wallace pulled himself off of her, he brought his gaze to her breasts. He was overwhelmed by her. She could see the passion in his e
yes. With a wicked smile, Wallace started to lick her, his tongue at first coming down and swirling around her nipple. As she arched into him, his lips made their way down her body. He withdrew his manhood, and began a slow assault with his tongue. Starting at her navel, he worked down to the apex of her thighs and began ramming his tongue harder and deeper into her, until she gasped with joy.
“Och!” she cried out as the pleasure became overwhelming, letting out a scream so loud, it startled the birds overhead. Wallace just smiled and slid back in. He didn’t stop, not once, pummeling himself into her again and again.
Freya buzzed with pleasure. Every ministration was warm and sensuous. Every movement made her squirm with enjoyment. It was getting too much. Now she felt him harden yet further inside her.
“Don’t stop!” she panted, her fulsome bosoms bouncing in his face. Wallace gave a laugh.
“I’ve nae intention of stopping, lassie’” he breathed in between her sighs. “That’s if ye can take it!” he teased.
But Freya couldn’t reply as he ramped up the pleasure in her body, making it vibrate and shake deeply. It was so intense, she could barely breathe.
“So, can ye take some more?” he asked mischievously.
Freya just rolled her eyes. Wallace laughed out loud.
“Och, alright then!” he said, before ramming himself even harder.
It was getting hotter and harder. Freya’s body burst alight in a frenzy of pleasure. Everything within her tingled and burned. Every sensation magnified the sweet ache running through her limbs as Wallace member grew larger within her.
Freya sighed, full of pleasure. She could feel his thrusts getting quicker within her, his faint grunts growing louder in volume as they moved rhythmically, their hips rocking in time to a secret beat.
He thrust into her, opening pure joy inside her. She watched as his face intensified, and he groaned loudly.
Gyrating harder, their bodies coiled and turned on top of each other. Freya clambered over him, pushing him down beneath her. With a teasing raise of an eyebrow, she invited him in, to dive further inside.
He did not hesitate, holding her hips tightly as he thrust himself into her. He felt hot and intense, and Freya could sense his urgency.
“Och!” he moaned, pressing himself more deeply into her. She could feel his passion burrowing in deep and hard.
Freya shut her eyes longingly…
* * *
Wallace opened his eyes in disbelief. The heady scent of sex and sweat swirled around him in an intoxicating mist. The lad laid back and wished that he could remain here forever. His mind reeled crazily. Here he was—it had happened! He had to pinch himself to believe that this amazing woman was actually here, in his arms.
Forgetting all his troubles for the time being, Wallace shut his eyes, leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Her skin still felt so cool, and he wondered to himself how she could stay so pale in all this sun. It was as if she didn’t know how to sweat, even in the heat of the passion they were sharing. His fingers glided through her hair. It was so smooth. All he wanted to do was to collapse into her lovely scent and stay there together.
Slowly, they made love once again as a sweet breeze rippled through the verdant trees hanging gracefully overhead. Wallace had never seen a woman this beautiful, nor could he ever remember a time when a summer had been so intense. Fire tingled in his belly.
“I love ye, Freya,” he murmured softly. They delved into each other again, burning with heat. It started slowly at first, but they soon progressed to hungry, eager motions.
Who knew how long it lasted? In Wallace’s head, it felt eternal, with waves of ardor crushing them both.
“Do ye want me to stop?” he whispered as they lay there in each other’s arms.
“Stop? Daen’t ye dare!” she uttered with a triumphant laugh, sending her long red hair flicking into the air. The sight of her so free and abandoned was almost enough to melt him like butter.
“Och, alright then, but dinnae say I didnae warn ye!” he quipped, and then pinned her down against the straw, grasping and clawing at her flesh.
He watched as Freya’s body shivered with the intensity of it all. She was tantalizing, enticing him to come close. Wallace placed an exploratory finger within her, just to see her reaction. She did not make a sound, but her green eyes rolled into the back of her head as he stroked her long auburn hair gently.
“Nice and wet,” Wallace murmured, delving a little deeper, this time going a little further. Freya sighed gently as he reached inside her. But Wallace could only contain himself for so long. The strength of his ardor was beginning to show. Wallace removed his fingers, sopping wet with Freya’s passion.
Then he launched himself back inside of her wet crevices, marveling at the tightness of her body.
“Yer beautiful, Freya, ye ken!” he told her, but she just sighed.
“Come on,” she gasped impatiently. Wallace held back from the precipice of total explosion. Wallace leaned down on her, slowly drawing himself in further and further.
“Oh!” yelped Freya at his advances. He could feel her juices leak out over him. She looked so alluring in the throes of passion, but then, in an instant, she put her head up, hissing like a little cat. “Keep on, keep on,” she urged. “Please don’t stop.”
Then it happened, both of them moaning and gasping in equal measure, clutching at each other’s flesh, riding the wave into the zenith. The pleasure washed through Wallace. Being with her was like nothing he had ever known in his life. It made him tingle from the center to his tips.
Freya tugged him harder, holding on tight and firm to his outstretched arms. Together, they rocked each other hard, rhythmically swaying to the beat of a drum deep within them.
Finally, when it was over, Wallace collapsed back down, onto the makeshift bed of dried straw.
“That was amazing. Yer braw!” he avowed. Freya just turned to him, her green eyes dancing with amour.
“An’ I love ye too, Wallace,” she said.
She did not know how long they lay there, both of them blissed out and asleep in the burning midday sun.
Her limbs were aching, but with a tenderness she had never felt before, as Freya’s whole body capitulated to sleep. They slept entwined in the dry straw husks, his arm tucked protectively around her body.
From somewhere inside her dreams, Freya gradually became aware of a clamor erupting from somewhere outside. Voices calling pierced the recesses of her dream. Within seconds, Freya was wide awake, shaking the sleep from her head like raindrops.
“Wallace,” she urged him. “Get up!”
“What?” Wallace asked dreamily, not wanting to move, but Freya tugged him awake. When she had got his attention, she simply raised a finger to the horizon.
“Look,” she said.
From their vantage point, it looked as if the keep was surrounded, men on horseback stood all around, encircling it. It was hard to make out the detail but even from here, it was apparent the castle was under attack.
Without another word, Wallace was pulling on his clothes, lending a hand to Freya to bring her along with him.
They ran all the way to the entrance of the keep, Freya panting in the summer heat. But it was almost as if Wallace was impervious to it. Sweat trickled down his nose but he never flagged, not even once, until they got there.
When they reached the keep, they beheld a scene of utter devastation. A bunch of men whom Freya had never seen before—but by the looks of them were from the clanless—were fighting with the guards of the castle. Freya had never seen so many men in one place, all slaying and attacking each other. As she approached, she gave a cry.
“Father?” she called, looking around for Finlay. It was hard to see, but in the thick of the throng which bordered the outside of the keep, she could just about make out the tip of his head. His once distinctive red hair had faded to a sandy gray. She was just about to rush forward to help him when Wallace shoved her back again.
“Nae,” he said fiercely. “Ye stay here!”
Wallace surged forward into the crowd, into the heart of the fighting and the fray.
“Please, stop it!” he pleaded, but all around him, venomous faces snarled and spat.
“Betrayer!” one ruddy-faced man shouted.
“Traitor!” sneered another, reaching forwards with his dagger and bringing it straight into Wallace’s face. He only avoided it by ducking suddenly. Freya gave a gasp.
“If ye dinnae want the lairdship, there’s plenty of other men who do!” came a voice. Both of them turned to look at Nora.
Highlander’s Twisted Identity (Highlanders 0f Clan Craig Book 2) Page 13
