Ian's Bride: A Highland Romp

by Hildie McQueen

  Beauty and predator came together in Ian. The darkening of his blue gaze and his set jaw left no question of his goal. His only purpose was to have her.

  Ian cupped her face with both hands and took her mouth with his. Involuntarily, her lips parted at the intensity of the kiss. There was no gentleness in the way his mouth ravaged her, his lips traveling across hers sent tingles down her body.

  The bed dipped under his weight and both of them fell sideways onto the bedding, their mouths still joined.

  Her body came to life and Sorcha could not keep from touching Ian. How could it be for so many sensations to surge at once and not faint? Control was tenuous, but when his hand covered her breast and the other slid down her side taking her bottom, Sorcha wanted more.

  “More,” she mumbled between kisses. When he released her mouth, she pressed it against his throat. With tentative licks at first, then growing bolder, Sorcha laved at his throat and trailed kisses to his jaw. When he trembled, satisfaction filled her and she nipped at the flesh just below his ear.

  Ian moaned and yanked down her nightgown to expose her breasts. He lowered to them and swirled his tongue around one tip and then the other. Sorcha bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. It was wonderful to be so close to her husband, to know that, in that moment, only she and he existed.

  What started as a flicker turned to a raging fire as his mouth continued its wonderful assault and his hands slid over her flesh.

  Sorcha could not take much more. With his every touch, the heat between her legs became unbearable.

  “More,” she begged. If he didn’t join with her, she’d go crazy with want. She was already lost.

  Ian pushed her left leg aside to allow for his hips between her legs and Sorcha wanted to weep as the need continued to grow. She would surely pass out if he didn’t take her soon.

  Peering down, his gaze held hers as he took himself in hand and nudged at her entrance.

  Too lost in need, Sorcha could not keep from lifting her hips from the bed.

  His lips curved. “Ye’re more than ready, lass. I’m glad for it.”

  The tip of his sex lodged into hers. Ian took her hips with both hands, held her still and thrust in.

  At first, there was a dull awakening of sorts. Her breath caught at how full it felt, his rod was thick and stretched her. The heat of need did not distract from the pain of the tearing and she cried out.

  Ian did not move, but held her still, his eyes locked with hers. Too stunned to do more than remain frozen, Sorcha searched his face for a hint of what would happen next.

  The need remained, her body demanding more of whatever it wanted. She’d thought their joining would stop it, but it continued getting worse by the second.

  “It’s not gone,” she said between gasps. “Why is the need still there?”

  One side of his lips lifted. “Because ye have not yet reached yer peak.”

  Peak? What did he speak of? Sorcha moaned when he slid out just a bit and then back in, burying himself into her. When he repeated the action again, her eyes flew wide and then closed, as Ian kept moving.

  It was wonderful. Not just the intimacy of the moment, but the new sensations that sent her floating. And then fear struck.

  Too much, she was losing consciousness. The height to which she climbed was unfathomable. She flayed, wanting it to stop and yet, at the same time, not wishing it to ever end. How was this possible?

  Something broke and the heat that had been building escaped. Sorcha screamed as her body shattered and she fell into what seemed to be an endless abyss.

  Ian’s husky cry echoed in her ears, but she was too far gone to do anything to help him.

  Birds were singing. Sorcha tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were like boulders. Finally, when she cracked them open, the first thing she noticed was a ray of sunlight filtering through the curtains and across the bed.

  Ian was not in bed nor, from what she could see, was he in the chamber. Closing her eyes once again, she tried to go back to sleep. The joining had been more than she could have ever imagined. They’d repeated lovemaking twice after the first time and, each time, Sorcha wanted more. Was it normal that just in recalling it, once again, the stirring returned?

  Was it a wonder that men searched out women so much? Sorcha wondered why no one had told her about this. That a woman, too, would find so much enjoyment in the marriage bed was a well-kept secret.

  Sorcha stretched. The action made her cringe a bit as parts of her were sore from the night before. And yet, she looked forward to this night and to once again be with Ian.

  “Are ye awake?” The young maid peered from the door. When she met Sorcha’s gaze, she smiled. “I brought ye tea.”

  “Thank ye.” Sorcha waved to a table. “Put it there. I will be up in a moment.”

  “Do ye need help dressing?”

  “Not at the moment, but I do require hot water and drying cloths,” Sorcha said, searching the room, wondering if her clothes were there. “Are my clothes here?”

  The maid’s head bobbed up and down. “Aye, milady. They are in the wardrobe right over there.”

  Stomach growling, Sorcha finally was able to leave the chamber to break her fast. In a simple but pretty frock she’d made and hair braided and wrapped about her head, she felt light and pretty. There was little that could dull her mood on this day. Her lips stretched into a wide smile and she considered not to do so once in the great room.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Ian walking to a side corridor. Someone had walked ahead of him. Strange that he was not in the great room eating but, then again, it was possible he had guard business to attend to.

  An idea struck. She’d wait for him and invite her husband to walk with her to eat. She stopped in her tracks at hearing a man’s voice. Whoever it was didn’t sound happy.

  “I have given it much thought Ian.” It was Niven who spoke. “I will not do it. I will not lay with yer wife.”

  Sorcha’s eyes went wide. Whatever did they speak of?

  Ian grunted. “I won’t force the issue. I ask that ye be discreet in this.”

  “What will ye do? Find someone else to join with Sorcha.”

  There was a long silence as Sorcha covered her mouth to keep from making a sound as she waited for Ian’s reply.

  “I do not know.”

  “No one will do it, Ian. Ye must accept it.”

  “That is why I ask that ye reconsider it. Do not say nay as yet.”

  Sorcha could not remain any longer. Fearful of being discovered, she tiptoed backward and raced away. Upon entering the great room, she could barely breathe. Although several gazes moved to her, everyone continued eating and preparing for the day.

  Too confused to do much more than numbly walk to a table, she lowered to sit. “Good morning. How fare ye?” Cairstine sat opposite her. She was the wife of Ian’s cousin, Declan. The woman’s gaze traveled over her. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” Sorcha could not find the words. She didn’t want to discuss what she’d heard. It was confusing. “I’m a bit unwell, I think.”

  Cairstine patted her head. “‘Tis different than we expect, is it not? The first night with a man.”

  “Aye.” Sorcha met Cairstine’s gaze. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She stood and hurried through the great room to the rear entrance.

  Cairstine was right behind her. “What happened? Tell me.”

  Unable to control the tears, Sorcha bent over and threw up while attempting to keep from sobbing.

  Although Cairstine’s pats on her back helped soothe her, it was hard not to continue to cry.

  She wiped her mouth and then her eyes. “I think I should leave. Go away from here.”

  “What happened?”

  Sorcha looked around to ensure no one was about. “I overheard Ian asking Niven to lay with me.”

  Cairstine’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. “What? Are ye sure?”

>   “Aye,” Sorcha replied, nodding. “Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Cairstine scowled. “There has to be a good reason. No man, especially one as noble as Ian, would ever ask another man to bed his wife. I truly hope ye misunderstood.”

  “Niven said it plainly that he would not join with me. He asked that Ian reconsider. Ian replied asking Niven to take more time to think on the matter.”

  Hand over her mouth, Cairstine’s eyes moved side to side. “I can ask Declan. But, then again, he is too brash. He will lose his temper and confront Ian.”

  “Nay. I will see about this. ‘Tis perhaps my duty to be the one to ask Ian directly. I will admit to what I heard and ask why he would do such a thing.”

  “And after?”

  “I will return to the village. I cannot be married to a man who would plot such a thing. Ye are mistaken, Cairstine. My husband has no honor.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Thankfully, she did not see Ian all day. Sorcha was more than happy to help in the kitchen and when work was completed there, she joined several women in the garden, as it was in major need of tending.

  Several of the servants exchanged looks but, other than that, they let her be and even included her in their conversations. Before long, she’d forgotten about her woes as one of the maids, a young girl, told them about her many adventures in escaping the attentions of a certain guard. By the way the girl’s eyes twinkled, it was obvious she did not mind the game one bit.

  Cairstine, who’d joined them just a bit later, carried a basket and picked ripe vegetables to be used in a recipe she’d instructed to be cooked that day. Indeed, life at the keep would not be as cloistered as Sorcha expected. Although at the moment, once she spoke to Ian, it was doubtful she’d live there much longer.

  “I wish to visit my mother,” Sorcha told Cairstine when the woman came closer. “Am I allowed to go?”

  Brows lowered, Cairstine shrugged. “I suppose so. Yer home is not too far.

  It was not far at all. However, Sorcha wondered if she should ask Ian for permission to go. A lump formed in her throat at considering facing him. Not yet. She was not prepared for it. First, it was best to think things through and attempt to find out why her husband wished to ask another man to take her.

  After washing her hands and splashing water on her face, she set out toward the village.

  “Sorcha!” Camden rode toward her, his powerful steed making her wonder who was in control. Thankfully, he brought the horse to a stop a short distance away. Camden dismounted and strode to her. “Where are ye headed?”

  “I need to speak to mother.” She slid a glance up at him. “How well do ye know my husband?”

  There was a strange shadow that crossed Camden’s face. It appeared he was considering how much to say. “I’ve only known him in passing. We fought together against the Campbells.”

  “Do ye dislike him?”

  “I am indifferent to the man. Did something happen? Why the questions?” He took her elbow. “Was he cruel to ye?”

  “Nay. I am curious.”

  Camden walked alongside her toward their house. “Ye never had an opportunity to get to know him well then?”

  Sorcha shook her head. “I spoke to him only on occasion. We were not on friendly terms. I confronted him once. He had the gall to collect taxes from Seamus and his wife. They are much too elderly to do much for themselves.”

  “Are ye sure about that?” Camden gave her an incredulous look. “They were servants at the Murrays’ for many years. Ye don’t remember cause ye were but a wee lass. Seamus’ wife raised Ian, and he looks after them. I know because the guards out at the lookout spoke about how often they would accompany him to ensure repairs are made to the cottage and such. One learns much about a man when spending days on end guarding nothing but empty forest.”

  Sorcha tried to remember the circumstances of the day she’d comforted him. She’d wondered why the couple had not said anything but, instead, seemed more amused than angry.

  “Oh goodness.”

  “I do believe his cousins saw to them while he recovered from the injury...” Camden stopped speaking and cleared his throat.

  “Injury?” Sorcha noted the coloring of Camden’s cheeks. “What injury?”

  He slid a look to her. “Ye’re married to him now. Did ye not notice anything...er about him?”

  “Nay. What are ye referring to?”

  “‘Tis not my place to say if ye...” Camden stopped walking. “Did ye not consummate the marriage then?”

  What did the consummation have anything to do with a battle injury? Sorcha huffed out with impatience. “Aye, we did. Now tell me about the injury.”

  “Are ye sure?” Camden searched her face. “Do ye know what happens...er…when...”

  “God’s blood Camden,” Sorcha snapped and stamped her foot. “We joined. I am no longer a virgin. ‘Tis not what I am asking ye.”

  “Keep yer voice down.” Camden looked around, once again, his face coloring. “Ian was injured badly. He lost a portion of that which makes him a man.”

  For a few moments, Sorcha did not understand. She leaned forward and then straightened. Looking up at the sky for some sort of answer did not work, so she then looked to Camden. “He is now without...” How to say this to her own brother?

  Giving up on coyness, she lifted a brow. “I’ve seen ye bereft of clothing and I can say that part of ye that hangs, Ian has it.”

  “What of the rest?”

  “It was dark I...” Ian had not removed his tunic. Not until he was in bed and then only after they’d made love the first time. After he’d removed all his clothes, the only part of him she’d seen was from his waist up.

  “I did not see.”

  Her mind reeling, she turned and continued toward the only home she’d ever known.

  Ian couldn’t believe his wife had left the keep without informing him first. He held his temper in check as Cairstine explained that Sorcha had seemed troubled and probably just needed to be reassured by her mother.

  His cousin’s wife seemed to think Sorcha would return soon. He’d not seen her since that morning. When he’d left the great room after breaking his fast, she had yet to make an appearance.

  After their first night together, he was sure she needed time to recover and rest. Thinking of having the passionate woman once again made him instantly hard. The arousal became uncomfortable so he lowered to sit and leaned forward to rest his elbows on a table.

  He scanned the almost empty great room and wondered how long before people began to meander in and wait for the evening meal.

  If it became dark, it could be dangerous for his wife to return alone. Getting to his feet, he stalked to the door.

  The woman should have informed him of her plans. He could have escorted her to visit her parents and ensured for her safety.

  After walking through the gates, he scanned the village and realized he had no idea where Sorcha’s parents lived.

  It was a balmy day. The breeze blew across the trees sending leaves to fall to the ground. Soon, the colder weather would come. But for now, the warmth of the sun was welcome. A man and young lad walked alongside a mule laden with firewood. Obviously, too poor for even a wagon, they did the best they could to provide much needed wood for warmth and cooking.

  The man nodded in acknowledgement to Ian. He did the same and walked to them. “Do ye know where the Macduffs live?”

  The man’s eyes widened a bit. It was then Ian realized the man knew he’d married Sorcha. Ian pretended indifference.

  “Aye, the house across from the bakery.” The man gave him one last look and prodded the animal and lad on.

  Ian set off toward the house deciding against a horse, as it was best to walk so that he and Sorcha could return together.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Ye shouldn’t have left without permission. Or at least letting yer husband know.” Her mother scowled at her over her shoulder as she stirred the stew.
“He’ll not be pleased with ye.”

  Sorcha had planned to confide in her mother, to seek advice. However, upon arriving, she found herself at a loss for words. What if what Camden said was true? That Ian had lost a vital part that prevented him from siring.

  “Did ye always wish to have bairns?” Sorcha brought the subject up abruptly.

  Her mother’s gaze moved to hers and there was a slight curve to her lips. “So that is what this is about. Ye are fearful already. Could be a long time before ye come to be with child.”

  “What if I never do?”

  “Sorcha. Do not speak out things like that.” Her mother came to the table where she sat and lowered to a chair. “It will be God’s will.”

  True. However, she was positive it was not God’s will that she lay with a man not her husband. At the sound of the hard knocks at the front door, she knew Ian had come for her. Sorcha braced herself for his wrath and gave her mother an apologetic look.

  “I will go now.”

  From the front room, male voices sounded. Her father had obviously opened the door to Ian. When he laughed, Sorcha and her mother exchanged looks. “Aye, the lass is here. Ye must learn Sorcha is willful and has a tendency to wander,” her father informed her new husband.

  “I will heed yer advice,” Ian replied. His eyes darted to her when she and her mother walked in. “I came for ye lass. I do not wish ye walking back alone.”

  Either he was acting calm on account of her parents, or he was genuinely not cross with her. Ian motioned for her to come with him and, after a quick glance to her mother, she went to him.

  They walked down the cobblestoned road. Side-by-side, he kept his strides short so she would not have to rush. Sorcha stole glances up at him but, with his hands grasped behind his back, Ian seemed calm. Several people greeted them and he even stopped to inspect a sword the blacksmith held up.

  Finally, they arrived at the outskirts of the village and Sorcha stopped walking. “We must speak.” There was a slight tremble to her voice. “Now.”