by Vonnie Davis
She placed her hand over his lips. “Please dinna use that word around me. Duncan used to call me that as an insult, and it hurt. I dinna want to hear it ever again.”
Damn that Duncan. “What word? ‘Cunt’?”
Her tears started again and she nodded. “ʼTwas an insult and made me feel like I was less of a woman.”
“Sweetheart.” He feathered kisses over her face. Women felt differently about some sexual things than men—she could call him a cock and he wouldna care. But he’d not hurt her on purpose. “I promise ye I willna use it as an insult. I’ll try me best not to use it at all around ye, because yer feelings count. When ye hurt, I hurt.” He sighed. “But, from time to time, I’ll be so fukin’ turned on, the word might slip out. Not because I seek to degrade ye, but because of how much ye’ve turned me on.”
She burrowed her face against his neck as if she were afraid, or too embarrassed, to face him. “Look at me, now.” Her head rose and their gazes connected. “In all things…all things…I will cherish ye. The slip of a sexual word shouldna erase all the indulging I’ll do every other moment of the day.”
Her gaze bore into his fer a minute or so before she nodded. “Okay. I’ll try not to freeze up if ye use it, as long as ye understand me mind might go back to all those terrible beatings. That I might hear Duncan’s voice yelling it at me, not yers.”
Bryce walked to the edge of the bed and sat, turning her so she straddled his lap. “Yer going to need to be honest with me about all his abuse. I need to know so I dinna inadvertently say or do something to make ye have a flashback. Give me time, me luv, and I will erase that fukin’ bastard from yer mind. Agreed? Will ye help me?” His hand slid slowly up and down her spine to relax her.
She wiggled on his thighs. “Yer understanding and kindness make me love fer ye grow”—a flirtatious smile brightened her tearstained face as she wrapped her hand around his cock—“just like something else is growing.” Her hand made a couple strokes and he groaned in response. “Maybe ye better go get that hat, Bry.”
With his hands encircling her waist, he picked her up and laid her back on the bed. “Lovers, especially those who have mated fer life as we have tonight, should ken each other’s body as much as they do their own. The feel, the smell, the taste…the way they tense before their climax hits them. Right now, yer juices are all over yer pussy, their smell nearly driving me mad. I’m betting they taste like honey and I canna wait another second to find out.” He dipped his dark head and lapped at her, teased her clit and slipped his tongue between the sensitive folds of her freshly shaven labia.
Chapter 14
With just a few swipes of Bryce’s tongue, the roughness of his taste buds against her clit coiled her abdomen and then uncoiled it so it exploded like a pleasure bomb. Her internal and external muscles spasmed so strongly, they sucked the air from her lungs. Even the tips of her fingers tingled and, if she didna ken better, she’d have sworn her eyeballs rolled back into her head.
Her second orgasm hit and was quickly followed by a third, rocketing through her. She writhed as he applied pressure with his fingers and tongue in all the right places, including her G-spot.
Her trembling slowly subsided and she lay limp and languid, unable to moan, much less speak. Bryce crawled from between her legs with a wink and a smile—the bastard—and sauntered out the door, only to return with his ball cap of condoms. Odd that they’d been taped inside a hat that said “DAD,” but Kenzie was too wiped out to laugh about the irony of the situation. fer one brief moment, she wanted to shove the hat away and tell him not to put a condom on. Chances were she couldna get pregnant.
Dear heaven above, what was she thinking? Evidently, when the man had licked away her juices, he’d obviously lapped away the ones in her brain too.
He opened a packet and rolled latex on his engorged cock. “Ye’ll find I’m a man of me word, sweetheart. If I promise ye multiple orgasms, by all that’s holy and unholy, I’ll deliver.” He crawled across the bed toward her like a wild beast coming to claim the prey he’d cornered and exhausted. “If we were married, we could have delights like this every night. With no barrier between us.” He settled the head of his penis near the entrance of her opening.
He entwined his fingers with hers, laying them on either side of her head. “I’m going to give it to ye fast and hard so ye never want another man but me.”
“Braggart.”
He sucked a nipple into his mouth and groaned with enjoyment. “Ye are so beautiful, and I need ye like me next heartbeat.”
She moaned and nearly gasped with pleasure when he drove into her. “I love the feel of ye inside me.” To torture her, she was sure, he pulled back out.
“Pick a date.” He entered with such sweet slowness, her breath clogged in her lungs. “A wedding date,” he commanded. He drew almost all the way out again and waited, one eyebrow arched. “Would the Wiccan part of ye like to wed on the eve of the summer solstice?” He eased back in until he was balls deep.
“But that’s only a little over two weeks away.”
He eased from her again and waited. “Do ye want a big extravagant wedding, me beloved? If ye do, we can set a later date.” He slid into her with more force and her abdominal muscles tensed. “I was just being a greedy bastard.” His hips lifted, and his cock pulled back out. “Ye see, I want ye with me every night. Like this. Fook aye, like this.” He shoved into her again.
Wedding date? He wanted her to set a wedding time while he rocked back and forth in her, creating a mental and physical euphoria only he could? Did she want a large wedding? Nay. Some people would whisper she was marrying too soon after being widowed. Why should she give their opinions any thought when she could have this delight every night?
“Aye, a summer solstice wedding would suit me just fine.”
He lowered his head and bit her where her neck and shoulder met. “Beloved.”
“Beloved man of mine.” She kissed his face over and over. His hips moved faster, and her abdominal and thigh muscles quivered. “Bry? I wish…I wish…”
“Tell me. If it’s in me power, I’ll give it to ye.”
If only he could give her some of her deepest desires. To be married to him was one of them, aye. And that they would do. But she held another secret yearning—to carry his child within her. A bairn she would gladly endure the labor of as she gave birth; a bairn she could rock to sleep in her arms. “I wish ye werena wearing a condom. I know I got pissy earlier because ye didna, but I guess a part of me will always want to bear yer bairn.”
He stared at her for a couple beats before he pulled out and, with one swift rolling motion, removed the rubber. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and entered her again. “I dinna care if ye can conceive or not. All I care is that ye will be me wife. Now, come for me, sweetheart. We will live forever as one.” After fewer than a dozen deep strokes, with his bulbous head pounding into her, both climaxed as they curled into one loving being, hanging on to each other, inhaling each other’s breath, and rasping words of devotion.
He’d treated her differently this time than in the past when they’d had sex. She couldna put her finger on it, but her heart could: Tonight they’d made love—deep, unconditional love. It scared her to death and made her joyous, all at the same time.
— Mary Kate stood on the back porch, gaping at the demolished door. Bryce, in bear form, sauntered through the kitchen, and she gave a small squeak at the unfamiliar sight before her gaze swept to his ball cap. Her finger trembled as she pointed at the hat. “Bryce, is that ye? I didna recognize ye with yer one eye nearly swollen shut.” She pointed toward the splintered wood. “I suppose ye are responsible for this mess.” A shifter herself, Mary Kate, was shy until a person messed with her work area. Then she was known to get quite vocal. “I will expect ye to return later today to replace this door and clean up yer wreckage. Were ye in that much of a hurry to get to Kenzie?”
He groaned, which was about all he could muster a
fter his human’s night of wild sex with Kenzie. With a nod, he plodded his way toward home. The sun peeked over the glorious rocky peaks of the Highlands, gently kissing the heather good morning. His da was right: This was God’s country, rugged, strong, and so beautiful it took one’s breath away. The countryside was harsh. Perfect for a sturdy and craggy breed of bears.
Aye, and for men too. Men who could run over these hills and mountains in their kilts, barely losing their breath or breaking a sweat. Scots. ʼTwas nothing to measure up to them. They were a hardy breed of men who valued their family and their lands. They ran their homes with the stern voice of love and knew how to indulge their women in special ways, especially in bed. Which was why his arse was all but dragging this morning.
The lynx stirred from some underbrush of low-growing pines and stood directly in the bear’s path. Wed her on the first eve of summer solstice. Have the three sacred types of fires from pagan times to ward off Fauste. I’ll be there to help protect.
The bear made popping sounds with his jaws. She belongs to me human, but to me, too, in a different way. We will both protect her with our verra lives.
Aye, and Colleen and the wee bairns to come, too. The lynx shimmered and vanished in a blur of gold and blue iridescent waves.
Inside the original basement of what was once the castle of his clan, Bryce shifted and slipped into the shower the brothers had installed a few years ago. Each kept a couple clean changes of underwear folded on the shelf of a closet they’d also built. He tugged a pair of clean jeans off a hanger and The Tartan Army Soccer T-shirt off another shelf before putting them on. He smelled the socks draped over his boots, deemed them wearable fer another day, and then slipped into them and his boots.
He gathered the clothes he’d shed last night before shifting in his rush to get to Kenzie and dumped them on top of the washer in the laundry room. Knowing the worn stone steps by heart, he didna bother to turn on the overhead light. His hand automatically went to the lever that opened the wall of bookshelves into Creighton’s office.
Smells of coffee and breakfast made his stomach grumble, but he had a phone call to make before he hurried to the dining room. James Matheson would be the best carpenter to replace Effie’s back door. He’d worked for the late Angus Iverson and knew what type of wood and style of door he’d need to do the job. A brief conversation and the accomplished carpenter promised Bryce he’d see to the repairs right away.
After ending the call, Bryce took a few minutes to mentally list everything he needed to tell his family versus what he couldna to keep Kenzie’s confidence. Just how was he to explain all that had happened last night? As much as he loved his family, they did have a nosy side to them. His stomach rumbled again. ʼTwas damn hard to think when he was weak from not eating.
Bryce opened the office door and crossed the hall toward the dining room.
His mum was the first to remark on his black eye. “Bryce, what happened? Where did ye get that awful bruise? Yer eye is practically swollen shut. Ye need ice. I’ll ask Cook Edweena to bring ye an ice pack.”
“ʼTis nothing. Looks worse than ʼtis. Dinna worry. I’m fine.” He kissed his mum’s cheek and whispered in her ear. “I’m fine and verra happy.”
She squeezed his hand, and her facial muscles relaxed into a smile.
As he expected, Colleen was bouncing in her chair, her eyes alight with anticipation. He stopped and kissed her curls. “Good morning, me sweet one. How’s Da’s darling girl? Did ye eat yer breakfast so Grandma can give ye yer medicine?” Without giving her a chance to respond, he sauntered to the large carafe to pour his coffee and fought a grin at the patter of her little feet right behind him.
“I’m fine, Da. How are ye, this fine Scottish morning? Ye werena in your room when I checked on ye earlier. I was worried, so I was.”
Ronan laughed, and Bryce shot him a yeah-I-got-laid smirk over his shoulder.
Colleen dragged her little stool in front of the antique buffet server so she could reach the silver food warmers. Cook quickly removed the lids fer her. His daughter grabbed a plate and filled it with scrambled eggs, toast, and salmon. Bryce extended a steadying hand to help her from the small wooden bench. She plopped the plate in front of her da’s chair, hurried back to the server to spoon out a bowl of porridge, and placed it next to his plate. A leap, a twirl, and then she practically corkscrewed herself into the ancient floorboards.
Och, me sweet girl canna wait for the news.
“Colleen.” Creighton’s eyebrows wrinkled and the corners of his mouth quirked. “What is wrong with ye this morning? Do ye have a rash on the soles of yer feet that itches?”
“Nay, I’m waiting for verra important news.” She cupped her wee hand to Creighton’s ear and whispered loud enough for half of Mathe Bay to hear. “I might be getting a new mummy.” She scowled at Bryce. “If me da behaved himself last night. His black eye has me worried, so it does.”
Ronan choked on his coffee. “If yer depending on your da being a gentleman, ye might be a wee bit disappointed, me darling sweet one.”
Bryce patted his knee and she darted over to crawl onto his lap. “I’ve got the smartest little girl in all of Scotland. She told me how to propose to Kenzie, and it worked.”
“At last! These two I’ve worried over for years are getting married.” His mum smiled over her teacup. “So, she liked the ring?”
Before Bryce had a chance to respond, Colleen placed a wee hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her. “Did ye put a pillow on the floor and place one knee on it like I told ye?”
Och God, the daughter inquisition was about to begin, and in front of the brothers too. “Aye, I did. And when I asked—”
“Ye untied the ring I had put on yer hat?” Her little arm wrapped around his neck.
God, he had to get her mind off her proposal list. “Yes, me sweet one, and when I asked her, she said—”
A small hand covered his mouth. Buzzards and bats, there was no way she was going to let him out of this embarrassing situation. “And did ye wear the golden satin breeches and matching gold shoes with heels and buckles?”
He cut his eyes to his two brothers, who were leaning out of their chairs, hands over their stomachs, laughing like the numpties they were. Both Cook Edweena and Butler Bean were having a mighty fine chuckle at his expense too.
“The important thing is, ye shall have a new mummy in a little over two weeks.” Her arms vised around his neck as she peppered his cheek with kisses. He closed his eyes. Let the rest of the buffoons laugh—he’d made his little girl happy. Nothing could be better. “ʼTis a fine breakfast ye put on yer da’s plate. I need to meet with the adults fer a wee bit before we start getting ready fer the movie this afternoon.” He glanced at her and winked. “Or have ye forgotten about that?”
“No. Me new mum and I are dressing alike.” Her sweet angelic face practically glowed with happiness.
“Is yer bed made?” He buttered a piece of toast.
“No. Not yet.” Colleen scowled at his brother. “Uncle Ronan, are there any funny magazines under yer bed?”
His brother’s face turned red. “Nay, ye nosy little telltale bird.”
“I really do need to speak to all the adults in the family, preferably in Creighton’s office. Paisley, do ye feel up to some serious talk and planning? How’s yer morning sickness today?”
His sister-in-law blushed and glanced at Creighton, who put his arm around her shoulders, the love shining from his eyes. “Thank you for asking, Bryce. I’m eating light this morning. One slice of toast and a small helping of scrambled eggs. Congratulations on your engagement. I know how deeply you’ve cared for Kenzie. But two weeks isn’t long to plan a wedding—although I planned ours in three.”
“Aye, yer right. That’s why I’ll need everyone’s help.”
—
Thirty minutes after the adults had gathered in Creighton’s office, most everyone sat staring at Bryce, slack-jawed. He’d told them everything e
xcept fer Effie’s being a witch and Kenzie’s naming ceremony, which made his story somewhat sketchy and disjointed.
Creighton’s thick eyebrows dipped. “So, she and her mum were on the run from this Fauste dude, who’d signed a pact with the devil? And Da erased Kenzie’s memory of where she came from and her native tongue so she’d fit in?” He shook his head. “Of all the crazy stories.” His right hand rose. “I dinna mean to imply I dinna believe ye or her.” He glanced at his wife, perched on his lap. “I’ve erased memories too, but how does one sell one’s soul to the devil?”
Their mum was on her second cup of tea and set it on the small stand next to her chair. “Duff and I talked about it. From time to time, he’d ask my opinion on things he wanted a female point of view on, just as you should be doing with Paisley, Creighton. I remember telling Duff there was already a connection between Roza—that was Kenzie’s birth name—and Bryce. Duff did what he could to make her completely Scottish, including giving her a Scottish first name.”
“Roza? She has no clue, Mum. I dinna recall the name either.” A blush started at her neck, which clued him in. “Dinna tell me Da erased me memory of her real name.”
“The two of ye were always together, playing and exploring the countryside. To keep her safe, he had to. It was my idea, so dinna be angry with yer sainted da.”
Bloody hell, the scope of this whole thing just keeps spreading.
Bryce leaned forward in his chair, his forearms slung across his thighs. “Me real problem is keeping Kenzie safe. With her twin, whom Fauste had groomed in the dark side of witchcraft, suddenly dead, Kenzie holds great value to the bastard. The time of his first pact is running out and he needs Kenzie’s blood to make his second one. I need to protect her from him when he comes to Mathe Bay.”
“Bring her here,” Creighton ordered. “This old castle with its thick walls and being under our watchful eye ʼtwill keep her safe. Do ye ken how soon to expect him?”
