Highlander The Demon Lord

by Donna Fletcher

  He did not take a step toward her when he commanded, “Remove your garments, wife.”

  Chapter 18

  Fear kept her frozen, her limbs far too heavy to move. She warned herself to do as he said, yet she could not make her body obey. He walked toward her and still she could not move, could not run from him. But where was there for her to go? She was his wife and he had every right to… movement suddenly returned to her, her limbs trembling.

  His arm went around her waist before she could crumble to the floor. “I will not harm you.”

  Did he mean that? Or like so many others did his tongue lie?

  As if he read her thoughts, he said, “I am a man of my word, wife, obey me and you have nothing to fear. Defy me and you will regret it.”

  She had no wont to defy him. She was accustomed to being obedient. It would be no chore to obey, at least she hoped it would not be.

  He took a step away from her, his arm falling from around her waist slowly, making sure she remained steady on her feet. Then he took hold of her nightdress at both sides of her hips and pulled it up and over her head.

  Instinct to protect herself, feeble as it was, had her swinging her arm across her breasts to cover them as best she could and her other hand cupped between her legs.

  “It will do you no good to hide from me. I intend to see all of you, touch all of you, and kiss all of you. By the end of the night, we will have come to know each other well.” He brushed her arm away from her breasts and moved her hand away to reveal the triangle of blonde hair between her legs.

  As he did, she watched his manhood grow before her eyes and she wondered how he would ever fit inside her without causing her pain.

  His hand came up to brush over her lips. “You are more petite than I am accustomed to, and far more beautiful than the grime on your face allowed anyone to see.”

  Grime had been something she had discovered that kept men at a distance, especially if there was a repugnant odor along with it. It was the men whose odor was just as repugnant that had concerned her at times, though she had managed to avoid them.

  Warrick was the first to see her freshly cleaned and the first to ever think her beautiful, and it stirred her heart a bit.

  He ran his hand along her cheek and down along the side of her neck. “You are softer than I imagined.” His hand slipped beneath her long blonde hair to rest at the back of her neck. He gave it a squeeze and Adara almost sighed at how good it felt.

  When he did it again, she shut her eyes for a moment, feeling the tautness in her neck fade. Her eyes flew open when she felt him step closer to her, their naked bodies brushing against each other.

  His hand took firm hold of her neck, keeping it from moving as he dropped his head down and captured her lips with his.

  Having never been kissed, she did not know what to do, but it did not matter since he did. His lips seemed to tease her to respond and she found herself doing just that, greeting his lips with timid kisses, and he greedily accepting them as if he could not get enough.

  When his tongue darted in her mouth, she almost pulled away from him, but his hand at her neck held her firm. Her tongue soon welcomed him as her lips had done, shyly, but he did not retreat, not get annoyed at her naïveté. He continued to kiss her as if he enjoyed every moment of it.

  His hand fell away from her neck as his lips left hers and for a moment she felt a pang of disappointment. She startled when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, freshly dressed for their wedding night. He placed her down on it and slipped in beside her.

  “We will be done with this, wife, our vows sealed, and you will do your duty as expected.”

  She nodded, all too familiar with doing what was expected of her. She spread her legs, having seen women do that for their husbands, though there were those who got on their knees, but she was already on her back, so she remained there.

  It would be over and done soon. All she had to do was lie there and let him have his way.

  He climbed over her, bracing his hands to either side of her and resting his large, hard manhood between her legs.

  Soon. Very soon, it would be over, she kept telling herself, then he did the unexpected. He brought his mouth down to suckle at her one nipple and it awakened a flood of dormant sensations in her that all but stole her breath. Never had she thought that what a husband and wife shared could feel so wonderful. As his mouth continued to administer to her breasts, it spurred tingles over her flesh, firing a passion she had kept hidden from when it had first come to light. Now that it had finally been released, she worried if she would ever be able to keep it hidden again.

  He rubbed his manhood between her legs, against the small nub and she moaned as bursts of pleasure rippled through her. Unconsciously, she thrust her hips up to press hard against his manhood, wanting to feel more of the intense pleasure it brought her.

  “Open your mouth,” he demanded and she obeyed.

  His tongue shot in and hers eagerly sparred with his while his lips took possession of hers and fueled the passion mounting rapidly within them.

  He tore his mouth away from hers after a few moments, his breath as laborious as hers.

  “Spread your legs wider,” he ordered and once again she obeyed.

  When she felt his manhood breech her opening, she grew eager to feel him inside her, a surprising thought, but then she wanted this over and done. Did she not?

  She felt herself stretch as he made his way inside her and as he went deeper, she found she enjoyed the feel of him and wanted more. He gave it to her, driving in and out of her, going deeper and deeper with each thrust, and she gripped his arms tight.

  When he finally plunged the whole way in, she cried out, not from the prick of pain, but from the overwhelming sensation that took hold of her and refused to let go.

  “Please do not stop,” she begged to her astonishment when he slowed his thrusts and he complied, plunging harder and harder inside her until she cried out from the pleasure that took hold of her and shivered her down to her soul. She squeezed tight, wanting to get every last bit she could from his manhood and seconds later she heard him groan and not realizing she had closed her eyes, she opened them to see him throw back his head and groan aloud over and over and over again until he shuddered and collapsed against her.

  It was not long before he rolled off her to lie beside her. They both laid still, their breathing hard, though his harder than hers. Her wifely duty to her husband had not been as bad as she had thought it would be. She would not mind the task, though she was glad it was over and done for the night, or so she told herself, fearing that perhaps she enjoyed it more than she should have.

  But it was far from over and fear was not something she would feel that night.

  It was barely an hour later when he turned in bed and began to touch her. He started with her breasts, circling her nipple, teasing it with his fingers, then with his teeth and lips.

  Adara was not certain what he was doing. Had they not consummated their vows already? Why was he touching her intimately again? Not that she minded, she enjoyed his touch and while it surprised her, it also brought relief, for she would not dread when he came to her bed.

  Warrick kissed her gently. “I find I favor you, wife. It will not be a chore bedding you.”

  He did not expect a response since he kissed her before she could tell him she felt the same. It was a demanding kiss and she responded with a demand of her own.

  This time her hands went of their own accord to explore him. She caressed his back, smooth and hard, and along his arms defined with taut muscles.

  He slipped his arm around her waist to take her with him as he turned on his side so that they lay face to face, giving her access to more of his body, and she took it. She let her hand drift down along his stomach until her fingers slipped into the dark curly hair that surrounded his shaft. She wanted to touch it, but she was not sure if that was acceptable.

  His hand took hold of hers and plac
ed it on it. “You are free to touch, explore, taste all of me if you wish.”

  She explored with her hand, the thought of tasting him there strange to her. His manhood was soft against the palm of her hand as she caressed it and she found she quite enjoyed touching him. She even gently took the sac that rested beneath his manhood in her hand to feel and explore and she thought she heard him moan. His hard manhood drew her touch once again and she gripped it hard, taking possession of it as if she was laying claim to it, that it belonged to her and her alone, and she caressed it once again.

  He felt silky to the touch, yet hard and strong as his manhood swelled with her demanding caresses and that caused her own body to grow wet with need. She looked up at her husband and his dark eyes were heated with such potent desire that she let out a small gasp.

  He reached down, grabbed her beneath her arms, pulled her up and under him, and entered her with a single thrust that had her crying out and coiling her hands firmly around his arms. Their bodies soon found a familiar rhythm and they moved as one, faster and faster, harder and harder.

  “Do not stop, please, Warrick do not stop,” Adara said, through gasping breaths as she felt her body ready to explode with pleasure. And she did, over and over again, and like before she squeezed as hard as she could on her husband’s shaft buried deep inside her and a deep roar burst from him that echoed throughout the room.

  Neither could move afterwards, their breathing so labored, their hearts pounding viciously against their chests. Warrick finally slipped off her, taking her hand in his as he lay next to her.

  Adara squeezed his hand, her small one feeling so good in his, almost cherished, something she had never felt before.

  After a while, he took her in his arms, drawing her against him. “You belong here and here is where you will stay.”

  Aye, she would stay, for finally she had found a kind soul.

  They slept, but she woke a few hours later hungry, having eaten little due to her fear of what she thought the night would hold for her. She slipped out of bed and went to the table to take a piece of cheese and bread and when that did little to appease her hunger, she took a chunk of meat. She was on her fourth piece of cheese when she jumped as an arm wrapped around her.

  “Coupling makes you hungry, wife?” he asked, kissing along her neck and shoulder.

  A ripple of pleasure raced down her arm and along her whole body.

  “I will see that food is kept in our bedchamber at night for you.”

  Adara found herself speechless. She had gone hungry more nights than not. To think she would not go hungry again brought a tear to her eye.

  Warrick rested his warm hands at her waist, turned her around in his arms, and seeing the tear wiped at it with his thumb. “Why the tear?”

  She coughed lightly, clearing her throat of the lump that had lodged there. “I am pleased to have such a kind husband.”

  “Kind I am not, wife, but you will be safe with me.”

  Safe. Something she had felt little of through the years and the thought that he would see her safe had her placing a kiss on his lips in thanks. Or had kisses along her neck sparked her desire for him?

  “Your lips make me hungry,” Warrick said.

  Adara held what was left of the piece of cheese up to his mouth.

  Warrick raised his hand and took it from her to toss on the table. “That is not what I am hungry for.”

  Adara’s mouth dropped open with a soft, oh that never made it past her lips, Warrick capturing it with his mouth as he claimed hers. It was not a gentle kiss, it demanded and Adara responded, her arms going up around his neck as his hands grabbed her buttocks and hoisted her up against him, forcing her legs to wrap around him.

  He tore his mouth away from hers, resting his brow to hers as he walked to the bed, his hands tight on her buttocks. “I cannot get enough of you.”

  She felt the same, but did not have the courage to tell him so.

  He brought her bottom down to rest on the edge of the bed and spread her legs, holding them firm just below the back of her knees and stepping between them. He hoisted her legs high enough to fit his manhood at her opening that had grown wet and began to throb.

  She cried out when he entered her.

  “You are sore,” he said and began to withdraw from her.

  “No. No. Please I want you inside me,” she begged, not knowing if it was right or wrong for her to do so, only knowing her need for him was great.

  “I do not wish to cause you pain,” he said, though had not retreated any further.

  “You cause me more pain if you leave me,” she said, not believing she had the courage to admit that to him, but then her desire for him was far beyond anything she could control. It was not only that he felt good inside her that had ignited that passion, it was also that he cared enough not to hurt her that fired it even more.

  At that moment, he cared for her and that meant the world to her.

  “Then I will not leave you, wife,” he said and slipped deeper into her.

  His rhythm was gentle until Adara began to thrust her bottom up harder and harder against him, forcing him to respond in kind and he did, taking control. Moans mingled with her repeated insistence that Warrick not stop filled the room as the two joined together as one.

  They exploded simultaneously in a blinding climax, Adara squeezing, clinging, forcing every last burst and ripple of satisfaction out of the both of them.

  Finally, Warrick dropped down over her, bracing himself on his hands to either side of her head as he hovered over her.

  With her husband’s face planted nearly on top of hers and the last bit of pleasure fading away and fear presently not haunting her, she smiled, kissed his lips lightly, and said, “I like you, husband.”

  “And I you, wife,” he whispered and brushed his lips across hers.

  He lifted her and laid her gently on the bed. Lying beside her, he took her in his arms and Adara rested her head on his chest.

  Was it possible? Could she have finally found a home with this man, someone who was kind and gentle with her and cared that she suffered no pain?

  She fought sleep, afraid she would wake and find it nothing more than a dream, until exhaustion took hold.

  When she stretched herself awake hours later, she smiled, finding she was in the same room. It was not a dream after all. Only she was alone, her husband nowhere to be seen.

  The door rushed opened and her husband entered, fully dressed, and in his hand he held a dagger.

  He will kill you like he did his first wife. The words echoed in her head and Adara screamed.

  “It was a nightmare, nothing more than a nightmare, and to be expected after what you have been through,” Cyra consoled, having sat on the bed and taken Adara in her arms to comfort her.

  Not all of it had been a nightmare and Adara’s heart ached for what had been real, her wedding night with Warrick.

  Adara fell asleep again and woke to whispers and, still heavy with sleep, her eyes fluttered open, her vision yet to clear. She managed to see Cyra standing there speaking to someone, a man… Innis no doubt.

  Adara thought she heard Cyra say, “Espy. Only Espy.”

  Exhaustion forced her eyes closed and she drifted back to sleep.

  Adara woke to a delicious scent of freshly baked bread and stretched herself awake, grimacing as she did, her legs and arms crying out in protest. Her hand went immediately to her rounded stomach and when she felt the bairn move, she sighed with relief.

  “Worry not about him. He is safe inside you. Those muscles in your arms and legs, however, were pushed to their limit yesterday,” Cyra said.

  With a soft groan as she moved, Adara sat up in bed. “I slept through the entire day yesterday?”

  “You did and it was what you needed.”

  “Has there been any word?” Adara asked, fear poking at her as to what she might hear.

  “Nothing yet, but then your husband’s warriors may have chosen to search for y
ou on their own in hopes of finding you before sending word to your husband.”

  Adara shook her head. “They would never keep such news from Warrick.”

  “Come and eat and do not worry about that now. There is time for that later,” Cyra urged.

  Adara ate a good meal, finding herself, or perhaps it was the bairn, hungrier than she had thought. Or it could have been the pleasant conversation that she and Cyra shared. Whatever it had been, she was grateful for it.

  With her garments dry, Adara dressed and slipped on her cloak to join Cyra outside while she tended her garden.

  “Let me help,” Adara offered, picking up a hoe.

  “Your arms are sore,” Cyra reminded.

  “I cannot sit idle.”

  “Then join me. The ground needs preparing for winter.”

  Adara smiled and got to work freeing a patch of soil of what was left of the few plants that had been harvested.

  “You do well with your injured hand,” Cyra said.

  Adara nodded, giving a quick glance to her crooked fingers. “It took some getting used to and some days the two fingers pain me, but I have learned to manage.”

  “The winter may prove a challenge for you, the cold disturbing the crooked bones. I will prepare a salve for you that may help.”

  “That is kind of you, Cyra,”

  “I am a healer, I do what I can for those in need, but you, Adara, are like family now and I will do anything I can to help you.”

  Adara choked back tears. She had cried enough and tears never did her any good. “It is good to have family.”

  “That it is,” Cyra agreed and they continued to work together.

  It was not long after that Adara stopped to stretch her back out and spotted a rider approach. The horse seemed large, even though it was in the distance, and he was traveling at a fast speed.

  Adara stepped back, suddenly fearful of who it might be on such a mighty animal.

  “It is Espy,” Cyra said, resting a gentle hand on Adara’s shoulder. “I sent word to her that you were here.”