by Mary Wine
“Yer lips are sweet, but ye’re a hellion, and no mistake about it.”
Deirdre tossed her head to swing her hair behind her shoulders. “One with naught to offer ye, thanks to yer words to me father.”
Quinton’s eyebrow rose. “Oh, ye have something to offer me, lass.”
“No, I do nae, nor will I ever, for there is one blessing to no’ having a dowry, and that will ensure that I will nae have to suffer a man trying his hand at mastering me.”
Those words were torn from her soul, and she spit them out like the foulest of curses.
His eyes narrowed. “Be very careful, lass, for I am a man who does nae pass up a good challenge. Toss one at me, and ye might just discover how wrong ye can be proven.”
Deirdre hissed at him and propped her hands on her hips in defiance. Arrogance was rising off him so strongly, she was practically nauseated by it.
“I shall never lie with a man again. Ye are all the same with yer possessive nature toward women. I’ll go to the abbey in my sister’s place and right happily. I shall be glad to go where I will never have to tolerate a man’s touch again.”
She flounced down the passageway, never looking back at the man who watched her. Quinton Cameron didn’t sleep alone unless he wanted to or he was too busy to charm what he wanted from the lass of his choice. There were two maids in the kitchen who were sending him hopeful glances every time he entered the hall, which proved that he wouldn’t have to suffer a swollen cock tonight either.
But he was uninterested in anyone but the woman who had just cursed him and every other man. He chuckled because he’d insulted her as well, but he wasn’t too sure that Deirdre Chattan wouldn’t come to enjoy being known as a hellion, for she was no lass, but a woman who had grown past the need to have the world agree with her.
Quinton chuckled again because that was something they had in common. He might just tell her too, for the entertainment of watching what she made of it.
Aye, maybe he would.
***
Brina trembled.
She felt the vibration moving down her limbs, where her knees felt unsteady. Her mouth went dry, but her feet began moving before her muddled mind made any sense of the situation.
Of course there was nothing to do but go to Connor and allow him to wrap his body around hers.
Her belly twisted with anticipation, but something else made her blood move faster, and she realized that it was excitement.
It took her only another step to reach the ledge. She turned her back on him and sat down. She could feel the heat from his body before she was completely lying alongside him. He wrapped his arms around her, easing her back until she felt him touching her from her toes to her head, the heavy wool of the cloak closing around her to seal the heat from his body next to her own. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, so similar to her own, except that hers was more agitated.
“So at last ye come to my embrace.”
Six
“Stop making fun of me.”
Brina tried to shove her elbow back toward him but his arms tightened around her, confining her arms so that she couldn’t put any true strength into the motion.
“Why is it that men are expected to be experienced while a woman who is finds herself called horrible names? I know that is the way of the world, but the least ye might do is no’ tease me for being innocent.”
He blew out a soft sound near her ear. “Now why would ye deprive me of the enjoyment I gain from teasing ye, lass? This night promises to offer few other entertainments. But I was nae teasing ye because ye are innocent; that is a mark of honor for ye.”
“Ye mean it is what makes me valuable to ye.”
“Maybe, but ye should be a wee bit kinder toward the fact that I’m driven to taking a wife who has no rumors clinging to her skirts, because I want there to be no further question as to who is the rightful heir to the Lindsey clan.”
“I never said I had no compassion for yer plight. It is a just cause.” Her voice was low, and his hands smoothed along her arm, unleashing sensation that was enjoyable.
“I’ve seen bad times on Lindsey land, Brina. I’ll keep that from happening again if I can.”
His body curled around hers, and she decided that it was too hard to think about their conversation. Her heart hadn’t slowed down, and sleep was only a distant idea that wasn’t even interesting to her. She caught his hand and slid her fingers along his. He was warm, and his skin slightly rougher than her own, but that only struck her as right.
Maybe this would just be the best solution…
No one would believe that she was still pure now that she had passed so much time at Birch Stone. No matter what happened, no one would consider her innocent, even if she had a midwife swear to it. The world was run by men, and they would assume that Connor had claimed what he wanted from her.
So why not taste what she would be accused of having sampled?
“Thank ye for keeping yer promise.”
He nuzzled at her neck, a soft kiss making her lift her chin so that he had more of her skin to tease with his lips.
“Which promise, lass?”
“No’ to rape me.”
He was a good man, who had treated her better than she might have expected, when considering the circumstances.
He moved slowly, his hands rubbing gently along her body. He used the slowest of motions, but her head lifted sharply because she suddenly realized that she was exactly where he wanted her.
“Ye’re attempting to gentle me,” she said.
He made a soft sound of male amusement near her ear before one of his hands glided over the top of her hip. “Aye…” His hand continued onward, petting the length of her thigh before stopping at the limit of his reach. He then began to retrace the same path. Her body quivered with mounting excitement, every inch of flesh that he’d touched eager for a second stroke from his hand.
“I’m set on demonstrating just how much ye have to gain by yielding yer trust to me.”
His words were a dark whisper that shimmered like a loch on a hot summer afternoon with the promise of pleasing her body.
“Most men do nae care how a woman yields to them, only that she surrenders.”
“I care.” There was a hint of smug pride in his tone.
“I know,” she muttered softly. It was the thing about him that she liked too much.
He drew his hand up and over the curve of her hip, sending little ripples of enjoyment down her leg and across her midsection. His fingers soon smoothed over the tight muscles of her belly while she felt a soft kiss press against her cheek.
“Come closer, Brina.”
His hand opened, his fingers stretching out to cover her belly, and he moved up behind her so that her bottom was pressed firmly against his cock. The soft fabric of her gowns and his shirt didn’t prevent her from feeling the rigid outline.
He cupped her face, turning it toward his own. “I regret no’ a single thing, Brina, for the fates brought ye to me, and I am pleased by what fate has decided.”
His hand glided up her body before stopping to cup one of her breasts. She suddenly longed to be rid of her clothing, for it prevented her from feeling his skin against her own. A need to experience that contact began to pound through her.
“Ye are my bride.”
“But—”
He smothered her protest with his lips, rising up to lean over her so that he might kiss her and press her down onto her back. His hand remained on the side of her face to keep her where he wished, but the truth was, she wasn’t interested in moving away from his kiss.
Maybe it was the danger of freezing lurking just a few feet beyond the shelter of his embrace, or the knowledge that her bed at the abbey would have been cold and hard, she wasn’t sure which, only that his kiss was full of life, and she wanted to
be close to it.
One of his legs curled over one of her thighs, and his knee separated her legs. She had never been so conscious of her sex before. Suddenly the folds were a place that begged for a stroke from his fingers, even if she had always been forbidden to consider such a thing.
For the moment, nothing was beyond her reach. Connor was hard and warm, and she lifted her hands to investigate every ridge of muscle she had viewed on his chest. He trailed his fingers down the side of her face and along the slim column of her neck until he reached the top of the lace that held her overgown closed. The lack of light didn’t seem to keep him from being able to loosen the lace and pull it free from the eyelets.
“I wanted to welcome ye to Birch Stone in that fine bed I had built for ye, but I will nae reject the gift of this night.”
“Tumbling down the side of yer castle is a gift?”
He hovered over her, his breath teasing her lips, which were still wet from his kiss.
“It sent ye into my embrace of yer own free will, and that is a gift, one I plan to enjoy full well.”
Her underrobe only had a single button at the neckline. He pushed it through its loop and parted the edges of her last garment with his fingertips. Her breath caught, and she watched his gaze return to hers. The fire bathed them both in crimson light that didn’t mask the hunger in his eyes. His hand slipped completely beneath her robes to lie against her skin while she quivered.
“Being able to touch ye is a gift, Brina.”
“I enjoy it too…” She spoke without thinking, her back refusing to remain still, because she wanted to feel his hand on more than just one spot. Her nipples felt harder than she could ever recall them being, while the soft globes of her breasts yearned for a stroke of his fingers.
But that wasn’t all she wanted. Her body was filled with too many longings for her to understand all at the same time. Connor didn’t suffer from that same lack of comprehension though. He slid his hand down her chest until he cupped her breast with a knowledgeable hand.
She arched beneath him, her back lifting so that her breast was pressed against his palm.
“I can see that you do, lass.”
Her eyes closed because there was so much sensation flowing from that touch that she couldn’t continue to try and process what her eyes saw as well. There were too many signals rushing through her body and into her mind.
She had never imagined that a man’s touch could feel so good.
He brushed her gown aside, baring her breast to the night air, but his hand kept it warm. And then she felt his breath against her puckered nipple. The cloak was still over his shoulders, so when he bent his head down and closed his lips about the puckered tip of her breast, the heavy fabric kept her from feeling the icy breath of the night air.
That allowed her to experience nothing but the heat. It flashed out to cover every inch of her body from the point where his mouth drew on her nipple.
“Connor, you shouldn’t…”
He lifted his mouth away, and she cringed with disappointment, her body jerking with lament as her flesh demanded that she silence every protest.
“And why no’, lass? Ye liked it.”
He wasn’t asking her; he was stating a fact. One that was as solid as his body.
But she didn’t want to move him.
“Shall I taste its twin?”
His tone was liquid sin, she was sure of it, and still she couldn’t resist its allure. Lifting one hand, she grasped the edges of her gowns and pulled them aside so that her opposite breast was bared.
She heard him draw a short breath and felt a rise of confidence inside herself. There was a sense of power that grew from knowing that she could affect him just as much as he did her.
Connor didn’t hesitate very long. He bent down over her offered breast, his breath warming the skin a moment before she felt his lips graze the hard tip. He didn’t suck it inside his lips immediately this time but toyed with the sensitive peak, the tip of his tongue flicking over it before he sucked it.
She cried out, a soft sound that was a combination of delight and need. She bent one of her knees, because her sex felt too compressed, as though the folds were swollen and the small bead that was covered by them too sensitive to remain between closed thighs. She reached for her partner, her hands threading through his hair as she arched, and her breast rose up in complete surrender to his lips.
Connor lifted his head away, and she heard her own cry fill the tiny cell, a flicker of promise in his eyes. She felt his hands moving down her length until he grasped her skirts and tugged them up. He only pulled the front of her gowns up, leaving her lying on the back.
Her eyes widened as she felt his arm brushing her knees and then her thighs. Deep inside her belly, excitement was raging like a fire that had too much tinder. She needed to think before she lost the ability to reason when he touched her again.
But Connor didn’t give her the opportunity. He leaned down and pressed a hard kiss against her mouth. There was nothing soft about it, his lips commanding hers to open while she felt her gowns slither up to bare her mons. She gasped, and he took advantage of her open mouth, his tongue thrusting inside to tease hers with a bold penetration that drew a soft moan from her.
The sound was born from need. Her passage felt too empty, when she had never noticed it wanting to be filled before. She wanted to be touched, and her body wasn’t interested in waiting either. She moved beneath him, reaching up to hold his shoulders close to her while she mimicked his kiss, moving her lips in unison with his.
His chest rumbled with another sound that told her he enjoyed the contact between them as much as she did. That was her undoing, for it sent her hands into his hair again, almost frantically this time because she wanted to pull him into the storm assaulting her. She wanted to feel him against her, harder and closer, because she could not bear to be alone.
“Easy, lass…”
His words were a mere whisper and drew an irritated sound from her. She didn’t want to slow down, but the first touch of his hand on her inner thigh drew a harsh gasp from her. Connor didn’t retreat in response to the sound, his hand remaining firm on the sensitive skin, soothing her with a gentle motion that filled her with delight. It felt so perfect, as though she had been blind and suddenly could see. Her skin was made to feel pleasure from the touch of a hand.
He pressed her thigh aside and rolled over her in the same moment. She lifted her eyelids, startled by the motion, but his hands framed her face, brushing the small bits of hair that had worked loose from the fabric wrapped around her head.
His breath was warm against her lips again, and she could feel his heart beating quickly against her chest. The cloak settled over them, and his weight pressed down on top of her, feeding the yearning that had made her clutch at him. It was satisfying in some deep way that she didn’t understand but could feel swirling through her like intoxication from too much whisky.
His larger frame spread her thighs wide, and she felt the brush of his cock against her folds. It was strange how she understood exactly what it was that glided through the folds protecting the opening to her body. It was instinct along with the half-heard whispers that rose up from her memory. Things she had overheard and ordered herself to ignore but had never truly forgotten. The reason was simple; deep inside, she hungered to know another’s touch. That need had always been burning inside her, never truly snuffed out by the duty she knew was hers.
But she wanted to know what it felt like to have him inside her…
Right, wrong, or possibly wicked—none of it mattered.
“I meant to seduce ye gently, in a soft bed… with fine things about ye…”
His voice had turned husky, with strain edging it. His fingers trembled against her face as though he was struggling to maintain control.
“I don’t want soft.” Not a single bit of it.
She craved hardness, and the head of his cock made her passage ache. It was a deep feeling of need and hunger that assaulted her without mercy. She twisted in its grip, her hips rising up to seek out what she craved.
Connor growled, his body pressing down on top of hers more. “I swear that ye leave me helpless at times, lass, with the way that ye speak so plainly. I pray ye never change.”
He thrust forward, and his length began to penetrate her. The folds of her sex were slick and wet in welcome, allowing his member to burrow inside her. But her sheath wasn’t wide enough, the walls of her passage refusing to stretch around his girth. Pain burned white-hot along her insides, and she felt tears stinging her eyes because it was so intense.
Connor muttered something next to her ear that she failed to understand as the torment ripped at her. He moved, withdrawing from her and leaving only a burning sensation to mark where he had penetrated her. Brina drew in a deep breath, feeling it cleanse some of the hurt away, but Connor wasn’t finished. He thrust smoothly back into her, gaining more ground this time, and she felt her body tearing in order to accommodate his hard flesh.
She cried out, unable to contain the agony eating at her. His cock felt too large, but it was firmly lodged inside her passage. Her thighs clasped his hips, a reflex against his gaining any more depth, but she could feel that he had penetrated her completely.
Tears escaped from her eyes, but he caught them with his fingers, smoothing them away while he offered her words of praise that her brain didn’t really grasp.
Brina opened her eyes. Her brain finally made sense of what he was saying. His words were soft endearments, muttered softly against her hair. Such tender words surprised her because she would have expected him to be crowing with his victory.
Instead he praised her spirit.
“Easy, lass, ye’re a Highlander just as surely as I am. It’s in yer blood, Brina. That is why ye crave me as much as I do ye.”
