“What would you like to do with the rest of your day?” he grinned down at her.
She reached up and delicately brushed a stray curl from his forehead.
“You tell me, my husband.”
He rested his head next to hers on the pillow, and exhaled slowly.
“Nothing but this.”
Chapter Eight
Over the next few weeks, winter crept up on the house, and the clansmen saw very little of Dylan or Victoria. They laughed at their own raunchy jokes about the newlyweds, but did not begrudge Dylan one moment of happiness or pleasure. The tiny blonde woman, when she did join them for meals or evening chats, had turned out to be quite the lively addition to the family, and had been accepted genuinely.
One evening, the family was gathered by the large fireplace in the dining hall after dinner when Dylan and Victoria strolled into the room.
“Aye, taking a break, are we?”
Dylan smirked in the speaker’s direction, “You should be so lucky as to find a bride as enthusiastic.”
Victoria laughed along with the crowd, growing more accustomed to their off-color jokes, and learning to like their easy banter and welcoming warmth.
“My husband made me hungry, that’s all,” she taunted back.
The house servant in the corner of the room scurried off to make two plates for the estate owner and his wife. She returned quickly with bowls of potato soup and plates of smoked ham and sliced cheese.
The men chuckled as Victoria inhaled the food, “This girl will eat us into the poorhouse, my good fellow.”
“I like a girl with an appetite, as long as the appetite always includes me.”
Dylan pulled Victoria on top his lap and roughly kissed her lips, eliciting a moan only he could hear. And despite their lovemaking from just an hour ago, he felt that stirring in his groin that she seemed to relish. Under the cover of her skirts, she wriggled her hips a little against him and he nipped her lower lip between his teeth.
She knew exactly what they would be doing back in their bedroom shortly, but first she wanted to enjoy the company of her new family. Two of the men nudged each other, and one dashed off only to return with a platter full of tiny cups brimming with amber liquid.
“Time to show her what being a Scot is really about,” they grinned at the group conspiratorially.
She eyed the platter suspiciously but looked to her husband, who was chuckling along with the group.
Each person received their own tiny cup and as Victoria sniffed hers, she sneezed. The group laughed and Dylan patted her knee as she stayed on his lap. The men gulped the liquid down all in one swallow, but Dylan urged her to just sip it.
Victoria took a small sip and coughed loudly as the liquid burned her throat.
“You Scots are trying to kill me!” she wheezed.
The group fell about themselves laughing and slapping Dylan’s shoulders.
“That’s some good Scotch,” Dylan laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Try exhaling before you sip.”
She tried once more, convinced her husband was in on the murder plot, but she exhaled as she sipped and it was a much different experience. This time, the heat warmed her throat and filled her belly and she beamed proudly at the group.
“That’sa girl,” Dylan grinned, sliding his arm around her slim waist.
After about a third of her glass was gone, she looked up to find the room spinning and the fire seemed to be expanding out of the hearth.
“I think I’ve had enough,” she whispered loudly into Dylan’s ear.
“That’s my cue, boys,” he crowed and scooped his wife up in his arms. “See you in the morning!”
As he strode up the staircase with his tipsy wife in his arms, he bent down and kissed her firmly. She sighed softly and leaned into his embrace.
“Dylan? Can we again?”
He kissed her harder in response and quickened his steps to their bedroom.
Their clothing came off in a flurry of cotton and they both snuggled under the quilt quickly. Dylan’s hands roamed freely over her skin and she arched towards his body. The heat from the Scotch already made her body warm from the inside, and his rough hands only enflamed her desire.
In her tipsiness, she offered a confession to Dylan. “I was scared to come marry you, you know.”
His teeth nipped her neck as his fingers teased her tight rosebud nipples.
“Scared of little ol’ me?” he chuckled as he raked his nails lightly down her tummy.
“You aren’t little at all, you’re enormoush!” she proclaimed, slurring slightly.
“What every man has always longed to hear,” he basked in her unintended compliment.
In one smooth motion, Dylan lay down on his back and pulled his beautiful naked wife on top of him. She braced her palms against his broad chest and sat up to look down at him.
“We can do it like this?” Her voice was husky as she winked at him.
“I’ll show you...”
He reached up to cover her full breasts with his palms, and slid his hands down over her waist to rest on her hips. He carefully guided her up into the air slightly, and then with a shift of his hips, he brought her back down on top of him.
As her body slid down to envelop his hard cock, she gasped and moaned, letting her head fall back and her eyes drift closed. He held her down against himself and drove his hips up. Her body fit him like a velvet glove and he slid himself back out only to hurry back in. Over and over, his arm muscles twitched as he guided her petite frame up and down his cock until she let out a long low wail and shuddered on top of him. He grunted deep in his chest and released into her. She could feel each twitch and spurt and her own body seemed to absorb each motion and every drop.
She finally collapsed on top of him, panting for breath and grinning in the dark.
“The rest of my life? Right here?”
“If you can handle it…” he smiled into her unruly blonde curls.
He cradled her next to his warm body as they drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Nine
As it always does, eventually the spring sunshine chased away the winter’s snow and cold and gloom. Victoria reveled in the Scottish countryside as it started to turn green and the little blossoms popped out on the trees and bushes.
Abigail was more and more attentive, and Victoria was becoming annoyed. She was starting to feel like the petulant little girl that she had finally left behind. Have you written your parents? It was the same conversation every time. Not yet, there will be time, and I will see them beforehand.
Dylan spent his evenings parading around the dining hall, virtually patting himself on the back. Victoria would simply roll her eyes and reach for another piece of bread. She knew that eventually her father would make his way to Dylan’s castle to discuss the spring and summer trade, and she hoped her mother would join him on the trip.
By mid-April, the vegetable garden was well underway and the fields seemed thick with tiny baby lambs. Victoria loved to put on her oldest house dress and chase them through the meadows until Abigail hollered for her to stop.
One morning, Victoria was getting ready in her room and Dylan stopped by after checking something with the horses.
She sat at her vanity, her dressing gown clinging to her damp body and her blonde hair hanging in a wet curtain down her back.
“Excuse us,” he muttered gruffly to Abigail.
She rolled her eyes and left the room in a huff.
“Better and better each time I see you,” he murmured against her neck.
Victoria giggled, “When do we have to stop?”
“Never!” he crowed.
She took his large hands and rested them on her swollen belly.
“We’ll have to stop sometime. You’ll dent his head with the way you take me.”
He slid his hands up to her ripe breasts and groaned softly.
“Sometime, but not today.”
An hour later, Victoria was still not dressed a
nd now her freshly washed hair was a frightful mess but her cheeks glowed a happy pink.
“Dylan, I look like a vagabond! My parents will be here by supper!”
He sat her up in front of him and leaned over to pick up her silver hair brush. Softly and gently, he started combing it down her back until it fell into the soft waves that ticked his bare chest.
“Now Abigail can fix it up,” he smiled down at her face as she turned to wink at him.
Abigail returned when Dylan left and was able to braid Victoria’s hair down her back with relative ease.
While Dylan headed downstairs to meet the arriving caravan, Abigail helped Victoria dress for seeing her parents. As Victoria rested in one of the large chairs with her eyes closed, she heard a loud gasp from the doorway.
When she opened her eyes and looked, her mother Lydia was rushing towards her as she struggled to stand.
“Oh m’dear! Look at you! I had no idea!”
Victoria beamed, “We just kept trying and trying, and it finally worked.”
Lydia’s cheeks flushed pink and she giggled.
When Victoria and her mother strolled down the staircase, Andrew looked up with a start at his swollen expectant daughter.
“Someday, father dear, your estate will all be owned by this proud Scotsman here,” she pronounced proudly as she patted her tummy.
THE END
My Sinful Surrender to a Highlander Werewolf
Carden crawled through the woods sniffing at the air, he could still smell the smoke from the night before. It had been a long night for him and his clan the army of Sven had attacked a small village burning the small shacks to the ground and taking everything that remained.
It all started when the Kingdom of Berigord was taken over by Sven the Conqueror, the Kigom’s did not want Sven’s kingdom to grow and had hired Carden’s werewolf clan to take Sven’s daughter Zuzella in an effort to force him to stop destroying the villages. The King had continued to press further into the Kingdom of Kigom and their king was not willing to be conquered.
Even though the King of Kigom knew his army could not defeat Sven’s he knew that the werewolf clan was willing to work as mercenaries and would do whatever it took to get the job done. The King also knew how much Sven valued his daughter and that if she were missing Sven’s focus would no longer be about conquering but on finding her instead.
The King had called on Carden and his clan to complete the mission and it had been accepted. The werewolf clan wanted no part of Sven’s kingdom. They knew that he looked at them as nothing more than filthy animals and was determined to eradicate them from the face of the planet. Even though Sven knew it would be hard as he had not yet figured out how to kill the Highlanders, he did not want them breeding with his kind and he did not want them in his cities.
If Sven had known that the only way to kill the Highlanders was to cut their heads off Carden knew that he would make sure to kill every last one of them. He had seen kings like Sven in the past, those who only worried about growing their own kingdom and did not worry who he hurt along the way. None of them had come as close to finding out the Highlanders secrets as Sven had.
He had been watching them since the day he became king. Sven had always been amazed at the secrecy of the warriors who worked as mercenaries. Even when he was a child his own father had told him stories of the people and although he did not believe that they could shapeshift into werewolves he knew that they were a strong people. Many of his own soldiers had reported shooting the Highlanders only to have them become even angrier and come after them as if they had not been harmed at all.
He had told the same stories that his father told him to his daughter Zuzulla. As a young girl she had been so intern his stories, but as she had gotten older her interest seemed to fade. Sven loved his daughter more than life and he was determined to leave her with the largest kingdom in the history of kingdoms when his time was done. Her mother had died while giving birth and Sven was all she had ever had. He had never remarried, but instead focused on ensuring Zuzulla was a powerful ruler when her time came.
Of course Zuzulla had many servants and many people caring for her besides her father, but he always felt guilty for her not having a mother. He wanted to make sure he left her with everything he could. Zuzulla was a beautiful princess and her father knew that she would have no problem finding a strong prince as her husband. Men had already started to inquire about her and she had just turned 18. She had fair skin and long black hair, the bluest of eyes and full red lips.
She had a body that men lusted after when she was seen in public, large plump breasts that were only accentuated by her corset, a small waist and full round hips. Sven was glad that her body was not visible under the dresses that she wore outside of the castle, but fire shot through his veins when he was the way the soldiers looked at her as she pranced through the castle in more revealing clothes. It was times like that when Sven wished he had been able to give her a brother. Someone who would be able to keep an eye on her all of the time. To be honest Sven knew he would breathe a sigh of relief once she was married. At least then he would not have to worry about her as much even if it meant that his little girl was growing up.
That side of Sven, the caring, gentle side that was reserved only for his daughter was a side that no one saw except Zuzulla. He could not have his enemies thinking he was weak.
Sven had sent his army into a little village the previous night, it was a village that the Highlanders were known to frequent. He not only wanted to conquer a new land, but he wanted to send a message to the Highlanders. He wanted them to know that he knew where they were and that he was coming after them. He had his best warriors plotting to kill all of the Highlanders and he would stop at nothing until they were all dead. They were the only thing that stood between him and conquering the entire countryside.
Sven knew that if he wanted to be the King in all of the surrounding lands he would have to get rid of the Highlanders, he knew that they would cause a revolt among the people and that they could lead an army against his. He also knew that the Highlander army with the help of the people would defeat his own army.
Carden crawled up to the bushes that lay on the edge of the woods, peering through them, ensuring that there were no more soldiers left in the village. Smoke rose from the small cottages, most of them burned to the ground. The village was poor, but it was one that meant a lot to the Highlander clan. It was where they sold the fur of their kills as well as meat which allowed them to outfit the entire clan with only the best weapons.
The Highlanders had become quite fond of the people in the village as well, it was one of the few places that the clan actually felt accepted. Carden shook his head as he looked at the ground. He knew he should have been there the previous night to protect the town. He should not have gone to meet with the King leaving the town without protection. He had never suspected that Sven had known how important the town was to the Highlanders and it only made Carden want to go after Sven that much more.
When he was sure that there were no soldiers left Carden shifted into his human form along with several of the clan that had come to the village with him. They had seen the smoke rising in the sky as they made their way back to their camp that morning and it had not taken them, but a few minutes to get there in their werewolf form. They were able to run as fast as lightening when they were in their werewolf form, much faster than any man could ever run.
Several of the men in the clan had women that they were fond of in the small village and when Carden saw the smoke, he knew that the chances of the women surviving was very small. Sven’s men always killed all of the men in a village or allowed them to join their army if they were strong enough, that left the women and children. The men were not gentle when it came to the women and if they would not submit to the men in Sven’s army they would be killed.
The army killed the old as well, seeing no point in having them alive and only those who pledged allegiance to Sven and his army w
ere allowed to live. They were just like Sven, Carden thought, heartless and nothing more than a waste of space on the planet. They were blind with power and Carden was sure that they actually enjoyed killing those who would not pledge their allegiance to Sven. He had seen the smirks on their faces when they had killed previously and it was like nothing he had ever seen.
Of course Sven and his clan had to kill humans on occasion they needed their hearts in order to survive, but none of them took pleasure in killing and made sure that they only killed the worst criminals when they had to feed. Often times Carden would wish that he were dead rather than kill another human, but he took comfort in knowing that he did not kill the innocent unlike Sven and his army.
Carden and his clan walked into the village, keeping a close eye out for any type of movement. He did not want Sven’s men sneaking up on them without any warning. They quickly went through the village, ensuring that it was not only safe for them to be there, but safe to bring out any survivors they would find.
Carden walked into one small cottage that had not burned completely down. A woman not older than 30 was laying on the bed completely nude and completely dead. Carden picked up a blanket off of the floor of the cottage and covered her body wanting to give her a little bit of her dignity back. He imagined the awful things Sven’s men had done to this gentle creature and fire flowed through his veins like hot lava.
Carden turned to walk out of the cottage when he saw a small figure hiding behind the table. He bent down, it was a young girl that he knew well. She could not have been more than 16 but was very popular among the younger Highlanders. Carden reached out and she took his hand, standing she threw her arms around him sobbing. He would have no choice but to take her back to the clan and change her. It was fine with Carden and he knew the elders of the clan would be fine with it as well, but he wondered if she had any idea what her future would hold and if she would have been better off dying at the hand of Sven’s army.
The Highlander's Taken Bride (Scottish Highlander Romance) Page 13
