Highland Dragon

by Kimberly Killion

  Calin loved her.

  When she pulled away, she echoed his words. “I love ye, too, my Calin.”

  Calin wondered if he was trapped inside a dream. Everything seemed so surreal. An intoxicating sense of contentment made him lightheaded and giddy. He could hardly believe he held his wife. A wife who loved him. He disappeared into the antechamber only to reemerge with her wedding band. He placed the ring on her finger. “Ye are my wife, my love…my Akira, and I’ve been dead inside without ye.”

  He held her neck and brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He inhaled her air. “Sweet Akira,” he whispered into her mouth. “Breathe my soul back into my body.”

  He kissed her gently. A kiss so filled with love it made his chest burn.

  Akira stepped out of his arms and unfastened the brooch at his shoulder, loosening the pleats of his plaid. He removed his thick leather belt holding his sporran and sword. The jacket came next, then his léine shirt. She traced the new blue ring that circled his arm, the one that would forever remind him of the loss of his child. Akira ran her hot hands over his skin, paying heed to every muscle in his torso before she placed her silky lips over his heart. Her blue eyes glowed with hope as she looked up at him. “I love your heart and I love that ye are gentle with me. I love that ye have magic pebbles in a strongbox instead of gold and rubies.”

  Calin would have snorted in utter humiliation at that last comment, but he could do little more than breathe with her hands and lips caressing him. She twined her fingers through the sparse hairs dusting his chest then suckled his nipple between her teeth. He set her back, never once breaking the trance between their eyes. He removed her brooch and arisaid in much the same way she had disrobed him. Of course, he was aroused by her nakedness—fully erect, in fact. But the desire to have her seemed somehow different. The urgency was gone and he only wanted to touch her soul—his soul. He believed they were one and the same.

  He encircled her waist with both hands and bent to kiss the milky white flesh above her heart. “I love your heart as weel, and I love your strength and your courage.”

  His lips brushed the valleys of her collarbone and up her neck until he suckled her tender earlobe. “I love the way ye rub my ear between your fingers, and I love the sweet taste of your skin,” he whispered into the whorl of her ear. Akira sprouted bumps and her nipples hardened against his chest. This could not be ignored. Calin bent and tickled the base of her breast with the tip of his nose. His tongue then swirled the perfect circular nipple, bathing her tight pebble with his saliva. Her upper body gave a shudder when he blew a cool burst of air around her crinkled areola. He showed the other equal attention until they both pointed upright at him. He lingered, taking each one into his mouth repeatedly, sucking and pulling until she squeaked and rubbed her knees together.

  Calin moved to stand behind her and brushed her long black tresses over her shoulder. He scraped his teeth over the nape of her neck then kissed his way down the curve of her back, all the while titillating her sensitive breasts. Once he reached the bottom of her spine, he moved back to her ear. Clutching her hipbones, he pressed her backside against him so she could feel his desire for her then raised both her hands to her breasts. He mimicked her fingers over her nipples and whispered seductively in her ear. “I love the way ye touch yourself when I make love to ye.”

  Her only response—quick heated moans of pleasure.

  He left her hands to their own leisure and dipped one, then two fingers into the hot wet silk between her legs letting his thumb stimulate her aroused nub. She pulsed and throbbed all around him and Calin was certain he would explode between the cleft of her shapely backside. Akira had always made love with unabashed freedom. Even now, she arched her hips into his teasing hand and made those sweet mewling noises that set his ears aflame.

  “Calin…my legs will nay longer hold me.”

  A shudder rippled her body just before he carried her to his bed. A torch lit the side of her face throwing the other half in shadows. Waves of black hair spilled over the bolster. Her eyes glazed with passion, and her pinked lips were swollen from his kisses. She was beautiful, and she was his wife, and he adored her. He didn’t care if that made him less of a man, less of a warrior. He would spoil her with sweet words every day of her life if she let him. His hands molded to her ankles and followed the curved path over her calves. The pulse behind her knees fluttered in tandem with the beat in his fingertips. He tasted the flesh of her thighs until she rolled her hips against him and whimpered for release.

  Akira was certain she would die, or combust into a thousand bits of charred flesh. The hunger intensifying in her loins seemed stronger than ever before. The tension building in her physically, coupled with her heightened emotions, set her pulse to thrumming in her mons.

  Threading her fingers through his tousled hair, she yanked him back up her body. “I need ye.”

  For a flitting moment, they shared each other’s breath then her tongue swept through the seam of his lips to possess his. She moaned and he pulled away. “Is it too soon? I dinnae want to hurt ye.” That constant concern riddled his voice.

  “’Tis not too soon. I need to be one with ye. I want ye to make love to me because ye love me. I want to hear ye say the words aloud when ye fill my womb with your seed.” A frisson of desire pooled in her womb. Their love overcame a lifetime of vengeance. A love that survived a month of grief which nearly destroyed them both. Not even King James could take this love away from them.

  She reached between their bodies and guided the smooth tip of his manhood inside her aching core. So much time had passed and he felt so thick and full inside her.

  She wrapped her legs around the backs of his muscular thighs and set the pace. He tried to go slow, but she denied him. The walls of her canal flexed and cinched tight around him, begging for release. But he continued the exquisite torture, pulling himself almost completely out before easing his shaft deeper inside her—one succulent inch at a time. When she could bear the sweet torture no more, she cried out his name then the salvation of his fingers stroked her to a powerful climax. The spasms wracked her body. Waves of ecstasy washed through her, dousing the flames that threatened to incinerate her.

  Calin released a fierce growl atop her. His arms shook. Sweat beaded his furrowed brow. He held himself deep inside her and pumped quick tiny draws filling her with a new life.

  The weight of his spent body pressed her into the feather tick. They remained connected as one, lingering in the sensuality of their lovemaking. She paced her breathing to the declining beat of their hearts. After extracting her short nails from his arse, she caressed the muscular plain of his back.

  Calin raised his head from the crook of her neck and kissed the tip of her nose. He wiped the tears from her eyes—tears she didn’t even realize were there—and raised one dark brow.

  Akira beguiled him with an impish grin. Her tongue darted out to lick her tingling lips. “That was the way I know.”

  He lightly brushed his lips over her smile then eased himself out of her. When he stepped from the bed, she practically fell off the edge behind him, so intent was her study on his rump. “Crivons! What in all o’ Scots have ye done to your arse?”

  He grinned a devil’s grin and twisted in a way that allowed him to peek over his shoulder at his nicely formed backside.

  “Ye dinnae like it?” His tone filled with disappointment.

  “What is it?” Akira reached out to trace the contours of a blue-black winged serpent tattooed on his left cheek in much the same place as Akira’s brand.

  “’Tis your mark,” he said. “Ye wear the MacLeod crest, and I wear your dragon.”

  She laughed outright at the sight and rolled back into the bed. “’Tis verra becoming, but I suspect ’tis not where a warrior would typically mark himself.”

  “’Tis where this warrior did.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The sound of trickling water awoke Calin’s ears. What smelled li
ke warm mist rising above a fresh spring filled his nostrils. Then came the faint aroma of her sweet scent.

  Had he been dreaming? Had Akira even been in his arms, loving him throughout the night? Or did he sleep through the winter only to awaken alone once again? Pushing through the cobwebs of confusion, Calin forced his eyes to slide open and answer those questions.

  She was there, her back to him, standing naked beside the hearth. Her hair pinned in loose braids at the nape of her neck with only a few stray wisps to kiss her shoulders. The hues of morning snuck through the narrow window to paint her wet glistening skin in pinks and golds. A pail of steaming water sat atop the cuttie stool at her side. She dipped the sponge and traced the contours of her arm, down her side, and then over her heart-shaped bottom. The path left iridescent bubbles over the perfection of her skin.

  Her performance was grace in motion. An erotic dance only she could perform. She turned slightly.

  Calin was rewarded with a view of her perfect breast. He parted his lips, knowing he should speak, but clamped his mouth shut along with his eyes when she twisted to look at him. He kept the rise and fall of his chest to a steady rhythm and held his face still as stone.

  Again, came the bell-like tinkling of water. Barely raising one eye, he peeked through his lashes. The tips of her fingers lathered her neck, her breast, her stomach, then disappeared between her legs. She had to hear his heartbeat as it boomed in his ears like a thousand string-taut drums.

  By the saints, she was exquisite. How had he never noticed the sensuality of her movements before?

  Akira rinsed herself clean then patted dry with a towel. To his great disappointment, she disappeared into the antechamber only to emerge moments later garbed in a simple linen sark.

  The bones in his fingers went rigid when he caught sight of the strongbox in her hands. She would think him weak and foolish for keeping such trinkets. He never should have saved them. If his men knew what was in that box, he’d never live down their badgering.

  She curled up with a wool coverlet atop the bench, propped the box in her lap, and inhaled deeply just as she opened the lid. A smile bowed her lips.

  Calin watched her read the missives she’d sent him as a young girl. She tickled the skin above her lip with a loose tendril of hair and periodically wiped tears on her sleeve. From time to time, she would hide a giggle behind her hand and roll her eyes as if embarrassed by her own writings. She stole glimpses at him between readings, obviously reassuring herself he still slept. Just as Calin would have ended his false pretense, she whisked back into motion. Akira replaced the keepsakes, tidied up, and donned a blue kirtle. Hope struck a chord deep inside him when she pinned the blue and green sash over her shoulder. She would stay. They would have a dozen bairns just as she’d wanted. All she had to do was decree Kendrick at the council meeting and admit she belonged at Cànwyck Castle with him.

  The sudden intensity of her frown worried him. “Why would a woman who has been loved so heartily throughout the night wear such a sour face?” he asked with a quirky wit that broke the silence.

  Akira’s head snapped up at him, then came the wonder of her smile. “Ye are awake. I feared ye may have slipped into the sleep of the dead. Such a lazy mon ye’ve turned out to be.” She held out one hand and arched a wicked brow. “Come to me, husband. I will bathe and dress ye.”

  “I would prefer ye undress and come back to bed so I can wake ye properly.”

  “I am already awake, and the elders await us. Think ye I want my husband to smell like a goat at the council meeting?”

  He laughed at her, then forced himself to slip from the coverlet and walk to her side. “I have bathed more since I met ye than I have in the past year. ’Tis not manly to always smell of flowers.”

  She laved him with the water still fragrant with her scent. The aroma, an aphrodisiac to his senses, sent his manhood jutting against his belly.

  She smiled and licked her lips. “Your cock doesn’t seem to object to a good scrubbing.”

  His bold little wife had always been forthright and just as he was about to reprimand her for her unladylike candor, she wrapped her strong fingers around him and massaged thick suds into his taut sac. Even if he managed a retort, he doubted his words would make sense.

  She bathed his shoulders and arms, then his pectoral muscles until lingering over his abdomen. Her touch ignited his nerve endings and wracked his body with need. Even the cool water rinsing him couldn’t temper the heat rushing beneath his skin. He thought she may have brushed her lips over his fevered flesh, but reality became nothing more than a blurred haze when her hot mouth slid over his erection.

  He sucked in air sharply and fisted his hands in her hair while she pleasured him. He moaned and opened his eyes to find her staring up at him. Big blue eyes sparkled with mischief while the scrape of her teeth and swirl of her tongue nearly caused him to spill his seed then and there. He jerked her off him with a grunt. “By the saints, wife! Are ye trying to kill me? Ye are wicked. Verra, verra wicked.”

  She giggled, wiped her mouth, and handed him a towel, which felt like a handful of straw compared to the soft silk of her skin. As soon as his mind functioned properly, he would try to sort fantasy from reality.

  “Mayhap I will let ye punish me later,” she said, holding up his léine shirt for him to slip into. “For now ’tis time we meet with the elders of our clans.” She began dressing him, pleating his plaid to perfection. “Laird Donald has expressed his desire to return home quickly before the weather forces him to sojourn here during the winter months. The mon’s sworn oath is sufficient for me, but Kendrick insists on formalizing the alliance.”

  She draped the MacLeod sash over his shoulder then pinned the ends with a sad smile. “There is also the matter with Catriona. The charges against her need addressed.” Akira took a subtle step backward. “And as much as the subject may displease ye, our annulment must be discussed with the MacLeod council. King James’ wishes cannae go unheeded, and I dinnae wish to bring any trouble to your kinfolk.”

  “The matter with King James has been resolved.”

  Her brows stitched together. “What do ye mean has been resolved? Has our marriage been annulled? When did this happen? I have signed no papers.”

  Calin pressed his index finger over her lips. “Come, wife. I will let Robert tell ye.”

  “Robert?” she asked behind his finger. “Elsbeth’s husband?”

  “Aye.”

  The council chamber hummed with the talk of peace and resolution. Calin, Kendrick, and Laird Donald sat among the elders of their clans. Goblets of dark wine scattered the stone table along with ripe cheese and a host of steaming barley bread. Father Harrald hovered beneath the colored glass portrait of Saint Aidan awaiting his duty to bless the alliance. Akira stood at Calin’s back, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other clutching two scrolls she had written. He almost felt guilty for making her wait through the formality of aligning the clans before calling Robert to present her with the information he’d only recently supplied Calin.

  He brought the meeting to order formally. “Friends. Neighbors. Honored guests. ’Tis my great privilege to pay homage to the Isles’ most illustrious leaders. A league bound by fellowship, amity, and trust. With this alliance, our kin will know the rewards of everlasting peace between our clans and the promise of protection for our heirs and successors.”

  Calin paused only long enough to cover Akira’s hand with his own. “If it pleases the members of our council, I would call upon Laird Kinnon to dictate the conditions of the contract whereat a formal vote will be initiated.”

  A moment passed before Akira realized he was referring to her. She brushed back a damp wisp of hair from her temple, then proceeded to unravel the first of her scrolls. Securing the parchment beneath the weight of four stones, Akira poised herself.

  “This contract binds our clans together. Its contents state that we, as aligned kin, will protect the borders of the Isles and fight as one en
tity to protect our people and our land from foreign invasion.” Her eyes fixed on the contract. “On this tenth day of January, the year of our Lord, fifteen hundred ought three…”

  She recited the terms of obligation to be instilled in their clans. By the time she finished, two of the elders were snoring. She cleared her throat and nudged Calin to initiate the vote.

  “Those in favor of the alliance respond.” His booming voice aroused any man still lost in his thoughts.

  “Aye.” Their united agreement nearly raised the ceiling.

  “Those against.”

  The chamber fell silent.

  Calin moved to dip the quill in the inkhorn and sign the contract, after which he handed Laird Donald the quill, who signed, and then passed it to Akira. As the chieftain of Clan Kinnon, Akira had to sign the contract for the alliance to be finalized. He didn’t know what caused her to stop and worry her bottom lip. A tinge of trepidation moved over her sapphire irises. Calin wanted to comfort her. Instead, he scrutinized her conduct. “M’lady, ye wrote the contract. Do your own terms displease ye?”

  Akira shook her head and drew an audible breath then unraveled the second scroll. “Forgive me, m’laird. I should have done this a long time ago.” Boasting a proud chin, she spoke directly to the Kinnon elders. “With the blessing of my council, I wish to decree chieftainship over Clan Kinnon unto Kendrick Neish. As blessed blood of the Kinnon line, I bequeath the power of chieftainship unto my half-brother and heir of Baen Kinnon, deceased chieftain of Clan Kinnon.”

  Akira offered her brother the quill, delaying only long enough to lovingly brush his hand. “He will undoubtedly make a brave and noble leader.”

  Kendrick pressed his lips to her forehead. “’Twill be my honor to serve and protect all those residing on Kinnon soil. Given the elders agreement.”

  The voice of the Kinnon council voted their favor in unison, whereupon Kendrick placed his signature at the bottom of both scrolls.