Lords of the Kingdom

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  Suddenly impatient to feel more of his skin, she tugged up on his shirt. He helped her pull it the rest of the way over his head, and she was rewarded with the sight of every chiseled plane and honed line of his muscular torso.

  Mesmerized by the sight of his perfect physique, she let her fingers gently trail over his shoulders and down his broad chest, then lower still to his trim, yet muscular, waist. She dragged a fingernail along the top of his kilt where the fabric met his skin. He shuddered under her touch, letting her explore him.

  But soon, he, too, grew impatient, for he growled lowly. Then his hands flew to the ties on her chemise. In a matter of seconds, the ties were loose, and the fabric was slipping from her shoulders. It whispered past her hips, and then joined her dress at her feet.

  For a moment, she felt exposed standing naked before him, but then she noticed the way he was staring at her. His eyes devoured her like she was the most delicious thing he had ever seen. She watched him as his gaze moved over her naked body, his eyes lingering on her breasts, her waist, the flair of her hips, and her legs—especially where they met.

  Garrick jerked slightly as if waking from a dream. He reached his hands toward her slowly, as if to make sure that she was real. When he touched her, it was feather-soft, and she shivered at the contact. He skimmed his hands over her exposed skin, seeming to try to memorize every contour of her body just by touch. Finally, he seemed to be assured that she wasn’t going anywhere. He let his hands drop from her, but only to unfasten the belt holding his pleated kilt up.

  In one smooth motion, he undid his belt and caught the material of his kilt even as it began to unpleat and slide down his hips. She couldn’t help staring at the sight that was revealed to her. The hard lines of his torso continued down his hips and muscular legs. But what really drew her attention was his large manhood standing up from his body.

  She felt her lips part slightly of their own volition. She had felt him with her hand before, and had begun to get to know the smooth hardness of his manhood, but seeing it was different. She hadn’t realized it was so—big. She knew the basics of what would happen next, but she was suddenly unsure if it would work.

  He spread his plaid out on the floor of the cave and brought her down to sit next to him on it. “Don’t worry, lass,” he said, seeming to read her mind. “It can be even better that it was by the creek.”

  “Better?” she breathed, the memory of the aching buildup and soaring release causing more heat to flood her body.

  “Aye,” he said huskily.

  He pulled her down further onto the plaid so that she lay on her back with him leaning on one elbow over her. He bent his head toward her, but instead of kissing her, he captured one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasped and immediately arched, all traces of doubt fleeing as another wave of sensation crashed over her. One of his hands trailed down between her legs, and as he had before, he brushed across her most sensitive place with his fingertips. She instinctively opened her legs slightly, giving him more access.

  “That’s it, lass,” he whispered against her breast.

  Just as he had before, he teased the damp curls and folds, then found that electric spot that shot instant pleasure through her. The aching was building inside her, but she longed for more contact, more sensation.

  As if knowing exactly what she wanted even if she couldn’t have articulated it, he let one of his fingers slip inside her. She gasped and moaned at the added sensation. She suddenly felt a deeper ache, one that would not be relieved by the feathery touches he had given her earlier.

  He withdrew his finger slowly, and the needy emptiness grew, but then he slid back in, and the motion sent her even closer to the paradise she now knew waited ahead. He set an achingly slow pace, sliding his finger in and out as he swirled his tongue around her nipple. She was sure that at any moment she would come completely undone.

  Suddenly, he cursed and removed both his hand and his mouth from her body. Her eyes flew open in surprise, and she realized he was positioning himself between her legs. His jaw was clenched and his face was taut with pained concentration, and it dawned on her that even though she had barely touched him, he was wound tight with desire.

  “I have to have you. Now,” he breathed.

  His manhood nudged at her entrance, and she realized that the moment had finally come. She would no longer be a maiden. She would be a woman, and one who had chosen the most enthralling man she had ever known as her lover.

  He eased into her slowly, and at first, the sensation was not painful, just foreign. But as he continued to move into her, the tightness increased. He was so large that she felt stretched to her limit. The pleasure slipped toward discomfort, then he pushed all the way in, and pain stabbed through her. She cried out, and he cursed but held himself inside her.

  He was all the way on top of her now, but he had his weight propped on one elbow so that he wasn’t crushing her. With his free hand, he began circling one of her nipples with the pad of his thumb. The pain still tore through her, but it began mixing with some of the old pleasure. He withdrew partway from her, which eased the pain, but then he sank in again. When he was all the way inside, the tightness and pain pinched again, but this time slightly less that before.

  He kept up this slow rhythm, and each time he pushed into her, the pain mingled with her building pleasure. When she was panting and moaning once more in anticipation of the flood of pleasure ahead, he let the hand on her breast drop to grip one of her thighs, pushing her bent leg up higher. He sank even deeper into her now, and his thrusts increased in pace.

  She hitched even higher, sensation tearing through her. She kept climbing and climbing, reaching for release. He pulled back and sank inside her again, and it was the final straw. She felt herself shattering into a thousand shards of pure pleasure. Molten heat suffused her, and she cried out in ecstasy. With one more hard thrust, a groan tore from him as he joined her in release. He held himself inside of her, both of them gasping for breath and pulsing as their hearts pounded.

  As she drifted back down to earth, he withdrew from her.

  “Did I hurt you, lass?” he said, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

  “Not by the end,” she said breathily. A deep contentedness was seeping into her limbs. She felt like she was made of warm honey.

  “It is only like that the first time. After that, it is all the pleasure with none of the pain,” he said.

  She quirked a smile. “Really? I suppose I’ll have to experience it to believe it.”

  “That can be arranged,” he said with a devilish lift of one eyebrow.

  She longed to stare at his ruggedly handsome face, drink in the sight of his perfectly honed body, but suddenly, her eyelids felt heavy.

  He pulled her into his arms, settling her head on his chest. “Rest now, lass.”

  The last thing she remembered was his callused fingertips stroking her hair and bare shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  When Jossalyn woke, she was disoriented for a moment. The cave’s dimness prevented her from knowing how long she had slept or what time it was. But Garrick’s warm, strong arms were still around her, which made her feel at ease. He was absently playing with a strand of her golden hair. They were both still naked, their legs intertwined, though he had pulled up part of his plaid to cover them.

  “How long did I sleep?” she said, lazily stretching.

  “A few hours.”

  She sat bolt upright. “A few hours? Don’t we have to keep moving?”

  He looked up at her from his position on his back. “Aye, but I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed so content.”

  She smiled softly at his words, feeling warmed by the memories of why she felt so languid and pleased. “I appreciate that, but I’m sure Burke has begun to worry.”

  He waved a hand dismissively, but slowly sat up next to her. “Aye, you’re probably right.” Even still, he didn’t make any moves to get up. Instead, he let his eyes
roam over her naked body.

  She forced herself to rise despite the fact that she longed to wrap herself around him again and sleep for another few days. She went to the pile of her clothes a few feet away, but when she bent to pick up her chemise, she felt a twinge of pain between her legs. She must have winced, for Garrick stiffened.

  “What is it, lass?” he said, his voice filled with concern.

  “Oh, I’m just a little sore,” she said lightly. The pain wasn’t great, but she could certainly tell she was no longer a maiden.

  Suddenly, he was standing in front of her, his hands cradling her cheeks. “I swear I’ll never hurt you again,” he said quietly, his eyes searing into her.

  She felt her eyes widen slightly at the seriousness in his tone. “Thank you,” she replied, feeling a surge of emotion at his protectiveness.

  He let his hands drop, but he watched her closely as she pulled the chemise over her head, followed by her dress. He must have been satisfied, for after helping her with the laces on her dress, he turned to re-pleat his kilt and belt it around his hips, then donned his shirt and stuffed the ends into his kilt.

  He went out of the cave in front of her, holding back the branches that blocked the entrance. The sun slanted toward afternoon but was still strong and bright. She had to shield her eyes after the dimness of the cave. A warm breeze played with the trees, and the air was full of the smells of the forest. The combination of the bright sun, the warm air, and the smell of pine and soil mixed headily, and she felt intoxicated by life.

  She glanced back one more time at the dim interior of the cave. She was truly reborn now. She was her own woman, no longer a girl under her brother’s control. She had now tasted freedom and the joy of shared pleasure. There was no going back, and she was glad.

  Garrick guided her to a small stream nearby. They both cupped their hands and splashed water on their faces, then drank from the cool, fresh stream. She took a moment to re-plait her hair, though Garrick frowned crossly as she wrangled the golden waves into a braid. She only smiled back at him, relishing his enjoyment of her appearance.

  Once they were refreshed and tidied up, they made their way back toward where they had left the horses. They found Burke sitting on a rock, whittling a stick idly. When he saw them approach, he raised an eyebrow at both of them. Jossalyn doubted very much that Burke missed the relaxed air about them, or the rosiness she could feel in her cheeks, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t going to hide her happiness.

  “All sorted out, then?” Burke said.

  “Aye,” Garrick said simply. He walked past Burke to his waiting horse.

  As Jossalyn brushed past Burke, he said in a low but merry voice just for her, “No leaves in your hair this time.”

  She felt her cheeks heat at his playful teasing, but she enjoyed Burke’s conspiratorial tone and the fact that he seemed happy for them. “Not this time,” she replied, not denying what Burke could clearly infer about what she and Garrick had been up to.

  “We had better get moving,” Garrick said over his shoulder to them. “Might as well use the rest of the daylight to get as far north as possible.”

  Burke nodded and tossed his stick aside. As he walked to his horse, he casually swiped a foot over the words that Garrick had scrawled in the dirt of the forest floor. “Clever,” he said as he passed Garrick.

  The two exchanged quirked smiles, and then mounted.

  Jossalyn approached Garrick and Fletch and extended her hand up to him, ready to be pulled atop his giant warhorse once again. But when he hoisted her up, instead of straddling the horse, he arranged her so she was sitting sidesaddle. She suddenly had a vision of bouncing against the saddle on her now very sensitive privates, and felt a flood of relief at his thoughtfulness. She shot him a quick look, silently thanking him for saving her the discomfort. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened slightly, and she knew he understood.

  With a nudge of his legs, they were riding north once more.

  Chapter Thirty

  They traveled northward together for four more days. Without realizing it, the three of them slipped into a comfortable routine, or as much of a routine as was possible given the rough conditions and their ever-shifting sleep and travel schedule. Whether they were traveling day or night, though, Jossalyn and Garrick stayed pressed together atop Fletch’s back, occasionally whispering something to each other, which often resulted in a blush from Jossalyn.

  When they would stop, they would eat a simple meal, usually something Burke or Garrick managed to catch, or that Jossalyn foraged. Her knowledge of plants and herbs was proving quite useful, though the farther north they traveled, the more she saw flora she didn’t recognize. Frequently, Garrick or Burke was able to fill in the gaps in her knowledge, since they had spent so much time working in the field on various missions.

  After a meal, they would catch whatever sleep they could, regardless of the time of day. Jossalyn noticed, though, that after the first day of traveling north following the scene in the glen, they began to sleep more during the night and travel during the day.

  Garrick and Burke were both visibly more relaxed now. She guessed they had determined that they had put enough distance between themselves and her brother’s men, or perhaps it was just that they were more familiar with the terrain farther north.

  Either way, she was grateful not to have to spend so many of her nights in the saddle. Though she and Garrick slept apart out of a sense of propriety in Burke’s presence, he always gave her an extra length of his plaid to use as a pillow or to wrap around herself. Being enveloped in his warm scent was almost as good as sleeping in his arms. Almost.

  Despite the fact that there was little time for anything besides eating, sleeping, and ever-more riding, Jossalyn and Garrick did manage to slip away from Burke one more time. Jossalyn had decided to bathe and wash her dress and chemise in a nearby loch. The sun was warm and the air was still, and her skin had begun to itch after so many days of riding. She still had her spare chemise and dress stuffed into the bottom of her satchel, and she decided to indulge herself in a clean body and fresh clothes.

  When she informed the two men that she would be at the nearby loch for a little while and requested privacy, Garrick had grabbed his bow and quiver and said he was going hunting. Burke didn’t comment, only raised an eyebrow at his cousin, which was met with a scowl from Garrick.

  Jossalyn puzzled on this as she strolled toward the loch, but let it slip from her mind as her clothes slid from her body at the shoreline. She was sore, though not from Garrick and her lovemaking a few days previous. Instead, it was the long hours on horseback that had her muscles aching and her bottom sore. She wasn’t used to such grueling conditions, and even with Garrick to lean against, she found it exhausting. Neither one of the men seemed to be affected at all, she thought with annoyance. They were clearly used to a rougher life.

  She waded into the loch, its waters surprisingly cool despite the warm summer day. She half-sighed, half-shivered as she eased herself deeper, one step at a time. When the enjoyable torture was too much, she dunked her head beneath the water’s still surface in one movement, feeling the refreshing rush envelop her. She held her breath underwater for a moment, scrubbing her fingers through her hair and letting the cool silence seep into her. When she broke the surface again a moment later and blinked open her eyes, she gasped at the sight before her.

  Garrick stood on the shoreline, half-naked and in the process of undressing further. His eyes were locked on her, and even from the distance of more than a dozen yards, she could feel the heat radiating from his stare.

  When he was fully naked, he stalked slowly toward the water. She drank in the sight of his perfect body, all hard lines and rippling muscles. Her eyes lingered on one particularly hard part of his body, which plainly spoke of his desire and his intentions for her. Suddenly, the water felt too cold against her heated skin, and she shivered in anticipation as he waded toward her.

  Just before he
reached her, he too dunked his head underwater for a moment. When he reemerged, the water sluiced down from his dark hair and over the chiseled planes of his chest and torso. Without further ado, he closed the distance between them and took her in his arms.

  “I can’t wait any longer, lass. I have to have you,” he whispered in her ear. His voice was tight with desire, his manhood pressing into her stomach.

  In response, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stretched up to press her lips to his. He made a low growling noise in his throat and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. His hands cupped her breasts, and then slid below the waterline to grip her bottom, pressing his hips into hers. Then his hands slid lower to the backs of her legs, and he lifted her up, one hand behind each knee, to wrap her legs around his hips.

  She could feel the head of his manhood pressing against her entrance. The cool water mixed with the contact of his heated skin. She could already feel herself pulsing, aching for him to fill her. She arched her back, pushing her taut breasts against his chest and giving him more access to enter her.

  It was all the invitation he needed. He thrust fully inside her, causing her to gasp and moan at the tight sensation. He ground their hips together in agonizingly slow circles. It was all she could do to hold on to his neck as he brought her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. Even as her body shuddered and spasmed in release, she felt his muscles tense and his hips jerked hard as he joined her.

  They floated for a few more minutes, sharing a tender kiss that was still edged with passion despite the fact that they had just found pleasure together. Then they slowly made their way to the shoreline, where Garrick dried both of them with his plaid and she donned a fresh chemise and dress.

  “I had better go find something to shoot, else Burke will spread word that I’m a sorry shot at hunting,” he said with a mischievous smile.

  She watched him go, his bow and quiver slung casually over his broad shoulders, and his red kilt flashing through the trees. She lingered at the loch, scrubbing her old dress and chemise as best as she could, and then laying them out on a rock in the sun to dry. By the time she returned to their temporary camp, Burke and Garrick were roasting a rabbit over a small fire. Burke sent her an amused look, and Garrick shot her a surreptitious wink that almost caused her to giggle.