by Mary Wine
He pulled free, and she drew in a deep breath that flew out of her lungs in the next instant as he moved back into her.
But the pain was missing this time. Her sheath took his member without the blinding hurt, only a dull ache remained.
“I promise ye, Brina, it will nae hurt like that again. Now there is the pleasure that I can show ye.”
His hips began working, driving between her spread thighs. For the first few thrusts, she could only remain still, part of her dreading that he hadn’t spoken truthfully.
Yet he had. Each stroke began to rekindle the need that had burned so brightly inside her.
“Lift yer hips for me, and it will be even better…”
His voice was like a spell, leading her off into the darkness for something that was forbidden but worth the possibility of being caught.
Her body responded before she thought any further on it, her hips lifting to take his next thrust. She gasped as his penis slid along the small bead hidden at the top of her sex. Pleasure shot up into her belly from the contact, awakening an enjoyment of being stretched by his hard flesh.
“That’s the way, lass.”
It certainly was. Pleasure filled her with each thrust that she lifted to take, his cock sliding deeper into her, and his body pressing against that little bead. Enjoyment surged through her, swirling and increasing. Her belly began to tighten, and she reached for her lover, pulling his shoulders close while she arched to receive every plunge of his body into hers. Reasons and thoughts fell away while pleasure and the need to gain more of it filled her fuller and fuller until they burst in an explosion that drew every muscle tight. Her body strained toward Connor, her fingernails biting into his skin while rapture burned a path through her. Brina heard her cry echoing inside the tiny stone cell, but she was powerless to prevent herself from muttering several more times while the sensations whipped through her.
Connor growled, and the sound made her eyelids lift. It was a savage sound that pleased her, for it was edged with satisfaction that no words might ever convey. He drove his member deep and fast, his flesh feeling harder with every downward plunge, and then suddenly his face drew taut, and she felt his seed burst against the mouth of her womb. He shuddered, pleasure crossing his features in a savage display that she stared at because of its raw beauty. It wasn’t the sort of handsomeness that sonnets spoke of, but something far more primitive that pleased her in more ways than any words ever had.
Connor caught his weight on his elbows, just shy of crushing her beneath his greater size. Their breathing filled the cell, with only the wind to mix with it.
He pressed a soft kiss against her lips and then a row of them across her cheek before he withdrew from her body and rolled her onto her side once again. Satisfaction bathed her in a warm glow that his embrace complemented perfectly. Her strength failed her, but she didn’t lament it, because Connor wrapped her in his arms, and that was everything she needed.
Her eyelids closed with her lover still gently lowering her skirts to cover her legs. Nothing mattered except the rapture still glowing inside her and the secure embrace keeping her in that moment of pure bliss.
Nothing.
***
The door scraped open, the sound shattering her sleep. Brina tried to sit up but had to battle against the cloak that was tucked around her body. The sturdy wool pinned her arms against her chest, while the ends were tucked beneath her, which made her fight against her own body weight.
Connor’s sword was missing, and she heard his feet snapping the hard layer that had frozen on the top of the snow during the night. She finally succeeded in gaining her freedom from the cloak as he released an owl’s cry that was shrill and loud. Pushing the fabric aside, she stood up and shivered in the frigid air. The fire had long since died, even the coals losing their heat against the winter chill.
Yet she hadn’t felt it, not even awakened once during the night. She blushed, her cheeks heating scarlet when she took a step and felt her passage ache. It was a deep, dull hurt, but there was no ignoring it.
Another owl’s cry drifted down from atop the curtain wall. Connor answered it as she neared the open door. In the morning dawn, he looked completely confident in his surroundings. His kilt was belted back in place about his narrow waist, but he had some of it resting over his shoulder. She might have expected that to be raised over his head, but it wasn’t. Now that he’d risen from his bed, the man was ready to face the day completely. He had his head tilted back so that he might look up the walls now that the wind wasn’t whipping around them, Brina could hear men running along the top of the wall. Connor let out another shriek.
A moment later a rope ladder was tossed down. It thumped and skidded against the stone surface of the wall, the sounds loud in the dawn quiet. She must have moved, because Connor suddenly jerked his head toward her. For the briefest of moments, his expression was hard and unyielding, but he grinned when recognition registered in his eyes.
“Morning, lass. It seems that daylight has brought us the rescue that darkness denied us.”
“Ye could have cried out last night.”
His expression remained guarded. “With the wind, I doubt that anyone would have heard me.”
“Yet ye didna try…” She should have thought on it last night.
He reached out and gave the ladder a sharp tug. It didn’t move, and he nodded with approval before turning to close the distance between them.
“It matters no’; it’s the truth that I am well pleased with how the night passed.” His hand came out to stroke the red stain resting on her cheeks, and for a moment she was taken back to the time that they had clung to one another. The touch of his fingers against her face brought it back instantly, and a ripple of awareness went down her body. His blue eyes watched hers, and her eyelashes fluttered because it felt like the man could see directly into her thoughts.
She heard him grunt, a small, extremely male sound, and his fingers lifted away.
“What does matter is that we have discovered that we are well suited to each other.”
There was the solid ring of authority in his voice, and when she looked back at his face, she discovered herself facing Laird Lindsey. A creak on the ladder told her why. Shawe jumped to the ground, his boots crunching on the snow.
“Sweet Christ, Laird, we didna think the pair of ye were down here when ye failed to attend supper.”
Brina felt her cheeks heat, because it was obvious what the Lindsey retainers had thought she and Connor were doing.
They had been correct.
“Aye, yer mistress slid down the face of the cannon bunkers. Have the lads tie up a sturdy chair so that we can hoist her up.”
“I can climb well enough.” And she didn’t care if it was considered unfeminine. The men turned to face her with suspicion on their faces. Brina stared back with firm conviction in her stance. Connor looked down her length.
“Ye’ll have to raise yer skirts.”
“I know that.”
His head tilted, and his eyes narrowed. “Is that a fact? How do ye know so much about climbing?”
Brina began answering before she thought. “I’ve climbed a fair number of trees because that is the best position from which to hunt rabbit with a bow.”
Connor frowned. “Yer father had ye trained to use a bow?”
“Aye.”
She said it with pride and heard Shawe whisper a soft word in Gaelic, but Connor’s expression turned hard.
“What’s the harm in knowing how to catch a rabbit?”
The men who had followed Shawe down the ladder looked toward Connor instead of answering her. Brina propped her hands onto her hips and felt her pride rearing its head once more.
“Oh… as if I care what ye think of it. My father warned ye that I was nae raised up to consider the egos of men. He had me taught how to see to my own needs.”
She heard a short grunt that she knew without a doubt belonged to Connor, and then the ladder remained straight.
“I can manage just fine on my own,” she said.
“So I see.”
There was an edge of frustration in his voice that she didn’t want to linger long enough to consider. Brina returned her attention to climbing and made it up to the top of the curtain wall, where several Lindsey retainers reached over and pulled her the last few feet.
Connor was a mere moment behind her, except that he wasn’t hauled over the edge of the wall but jumped those last few feet to land solidly beside her.
“What else did yer father have ye trained in?”
Brina felt her lips rise into a small smile. It was definitely smug, but she discovered that she enjoyed knowing that he was unsure of her for once.
“Practical things, Laird Lindsey. My father made sure that I was ready to assume my place at the abbey as a productive member of the convent.” She tossed her head. “After all, my life was never supposed to include the luxury of depending on a man for anything. My father made sure that I was ready to greet that future.”
He wasn’t pleased with her tone, but he did smile at her words. His lips rose into an expression that spoke clearly of his satisfaction.
“We’ll have to discuss yer skills later, to determine which ones will be useful in yer future here at Birch Stone for I find that I like knowing ye are nae helpless.”
Connor didn’t give her any time to deny his words. He looked past her, and she recognized the retainers who had dogged her footsteps the day before.
“I hope ye listened well and are ready to do a better job of looking after my bride today.” He turned back to look at her with a glare that was edged in suspicion. “She is more capable than she appears, do nae allow her sweet face to beguile ye.”
“That is nae a sin.” Her tone was less than respectful and far from meek. There was a challenge in it that she would have done well to temper, but she failed to. Connor stepped up to her without hesitation.
“No, it isna, but leaving ye to dupe my men would be, lass, for I will nae have ye running because of some sense of misplaced shame. Last night will no be a sin once we kneel in front of the priest.”
She gasped because every man heard his words. She could feel the weight of their stares on her and witnessed a few grins appearing in response.
Connor’s gaze moved to the stain darkening her cheeks. There was a calculating look in his eyes that spoke of why he held the respect of the Lindsey clan.
The reason was that he was no fool, and he was, without a doubt, every inch a Highlander. A man who took what he wanted and held it, even against the odds.
“It was nae necessary to say that in front of all.”
He reached out and stroked her face, the touch delicate and soft. A hint of tenderness flickered in his blue eyes that struck a soft spot deep inside her heart. She looked away because it was unnerving the way that he could so easily take her back to their moments of intimacy with only a look. She heard him blow out a stiff breath.
“I believe that it was, Brina. For I intend to see ye later this day in the church sanctuary. It is best that ye understand that every soul wearing me colors knows ye should seek the church’s blessing beside me.”
It was a solid promise that annoyed her because of how much pleasure it gave her. Surrender shouldn’t be so simple, and yet she discovered that she was more frustrated by the fact that she was duty-bound to resent enjoying his embrace last night.
Life was not fair, and for the moment she wanted to rail against it.
***
“Not a soul thought that ye would have managed to get yerself into such peril, mistress.”
Once again, Maura was speaking in a tone that held a great deal of authority.
“It is by far a great blessing that the laird thought to be so close behind ye.”
“I would nae have slipped if he hadna startled me.”
There was silence in the bathing chamber as all three of the maids who the head of house had insisted attend Brina’s bath stopped what they were doing to stare at her. The moment became uncomfortable because Brina could feel the disapproval being aimed toward her.
That only doubled her discomfort, making it feel like shame, because Connor had earned respect from his clan, and that was something that could not be ordered or taken. If the women in the room had no true devotion toward their laird, they would find some task to take them away from attending to her. The only reason that they remained when there was so little to do was that they sought to please Connor by making sure of his wish that she be treated as the mistress of Birch Stone.
“I mean no disrespect toward yer laird. I was fortunate to have his assistance last night.”
Maura nodded approvingly. “I imagine so; it was bitterly cold last evening. Anything left in the fields is lost for sure now.”
“We’ll have to pray for an early thaw.” The women nodded in agreement as they set about filling a tub for her bath. The sound of running water was still slightly amazing, in spite of the fact that Maura had told her there would be water even with snow outside the castle walls.
Brina was grateful for it today. She longed for a bath and suddenly understood why some religious orders shunned washing as a luxury. Just looking at the clear water in the tub felt good; having it glide along her skin was going to be decadent.
One of the women pulled the blue overgown from her, and there was a soft sound of surprise from the woman standing behind her. Brina turned to see what had startled her, only to hear another gasp from the woman in front of her. She turned back around but found both women looking at the back of her underrobe.
“Well, it’s good to know that ye have settled matters between the laird and yerself.”
Maura reached out and plucked the back of her gown up between her fingers. Brina turned to see that the light blue fabric was stained dark brown for a good foot. The head of house flicked her fingers at the woman in front of Brina, and the gown was whisked up and over her head in a moment. The head of house handed the garment over to another maid before she reached forward and boldly wiped the top of Brina’s thigh with the linen cloth that was waiting to dry her after her bath.
Brina jumped, but Maura held up the fabric, making sure that the light streaming in through the open windows illuminated it. She gave a satisfied grunt before turning it to show each woman in the room.
There were suddenly smiles around the room, and the women hurried to make sure that the waiting bath was perfect. They dipped their fingers into the water to check the temperature and moved the drying rack closer toward the hearth to ensure that the underrobe she would wear after bathing was cozy.
“Karen, send down to the cook and tell her to make supper special.”
“That is nae necessary.”
Brina might as well have saved her breath, for Karen lowered herself and was out of the door before she finished protesting. The maid’s steps echoed down the hallway with a pace that spoke of the woman’s excitement. It wouldn’t take long for her to spread the word throughout Birch Stone that the laird had consummated his union.
“Let’s get ye bathed, mistress, for I’m sure ye’ll want to be getting on to church before the day grows much older.”
It cou
ld be that simple.
Brina tumbled that idea over and over inside her mind while she was bathed from her head to her toes. She was too preoccupied by her thoughts to protest.
Oh aye, simple, because she had only to turn her back on her duty to her father. The problem was, she was beginning to see staying at Birch Stone as an option.
***
Father Luke-Paul was waiting for him. Connor saw the man standing in the arched doorway of the church. The priest had his hands tucked into the wide sleeves of his robe while he stood as still as one of the carved statues that adorned the inner sanctuary.
Connor lowered himself to one knee at the threshold but didn’t linger there. He pushed back up to his full height while Luke-Paul surveyed him.
“I made it plain that I plan to wed the lass from the moment I took her.”
The priest’s eyes narrowed slightly, showing that he didn’t care for the arrogance in Connor’s tone. Connor didn’t lower his head. He wasn’t sure that he could feign any sort of remorse for the fact that he’d had Brina before they took the blessing of the church, for he wasn’t sorry.
Not one bit.
But he was thankful.
Luke-Paul frowned. “That is a truth. I will have to compose a lecture for yer bride on the merits of nae arguing against God’s will.”
“I did steal her, Father.”
There was a faint flicker of amusement in the priest’s eyes that didn’t change his expression. “Ye are both Scottish, and that is a common enough practice. I will hear yer confession.”
He turned and led the way into the sanctuary, saving Connor from upsetting the man further with the grin that split his lips. It was cocky, to be sure, and no doubt Luke-Paul would have felt the need to compose a lecture for him on the ideals of virtue if he had seen it.
Connor didn’t care. He’d sit through any sermon the man deemed necessary, for he did not regret claiming Brina.
Her cries of delight still echoed inside his head, and they stirred a need to curse the sun for not making its way across the sky faster. He was as impatient as a newly tried lad to get back beneath her skirts, his cock stirring beneath his kilt to throb with need.
