“My husband?”
“You said you were married. It’s a vow you took seriously. Woe is me if I don’t honor it myself.”
“Oh…okay.” She seemed perplexed, as if finding her husband wasn’t even a portent of any importance. She was almost embarrassed at her own lack of appreciation for Artair’s gallantry. “Yes…I think he’s hiding in the barn. I can find him.”
“Better get to it. If we sneak out of here to the outskirts we can get to the forest within less than a mile. Just pray that the rascals are having too much fun to notice us.”
But Artair’s simple plan was a bit undercooked. Artair and Nessie did venture outside and did watch the havoc unfold in front of them. Men slicing away at anything that breathed, even the children. Emery hadn’t kept his word, and why would he? There was no honor among thieves. These people only understood fear.
Artair shook his head in disgust. The little bastard had a beheading coming if he ever found him alone. But finding him alone was the problem, since men were running all over the place and in every direction.
Within moments, a warrior-thief spotted Nessie and wobbled towards her, shaking his spear and drooling all over his ratty face.
Nessie shrieked as the man grabbed her arm and tried to lift her up for the taking.
“Hey!” Artair said in fire, waiting until the marauder saw his stoic face. “This one’s mine. I claimed her.”
“I don’t see your name on her arse, O Great Saint.”
“Then I’ll carve her name into your face, you bastard.”
“Bleeaaah!” he said, losing eye contact and wandering away from Nessie to find other spoils.
Artair went over to Nessie and grabbed her in his arms, putting her body over his shoulder and walking back to the forest.
“I’ve got me one!” he announced to the others. “I’ll be back for more.”
“You better be,” Emery said from a distance. Too far away to strike, unfortunately. “This is only the first village on our list, you know. Deserters of our clan are seen as traitors.”
“Oh believe me, sir,” Artair said, carrying Nessie who was trying to stay calm, praying Artair was lying about his claim. “I have every intention of coming back.”
“Good!”
Artair quickly ran into the outskirts of the village, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone and hide behind walls whenever possible. He ducked behind a hill for a few moments, letting Nessie stand on her feet.
“Stay low. They’re trained to see men standing tall. Threats. Crawl your way over to that tree stump over there.” He pointed Nessie in the right direction and they took off, crawling with all their leftover might.
As soon as they approached the outer edges of the forest they stood up. Too far away to be seen by the raiders, they took their time and walked into the forest.
As soon as Nessie felt safe, she began staring at Artair, unsure of what to think about the mysterious stranger. He said himself he was no hero. But he was surely unlike any other man she ever met.
“What do you want with me?” she said, still staying a distance away from him, as Artair relaxed, picking berries off a bush.
“I don’t know, woman. Frankly, I’m getting kind of sorry I saved your life. All these questions you’re asking about me moral compass is not worth the one good deed.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Any other man…you understand…”
“Believe me I know. To answer your question, I guess on some level I relate to you. A long time ago, I had a wife. And while she was alive it was a promise I took seriously. So call me sentimental but a promise is a promise. Maybe I can’t save everybody all the time. But if I can save one happily married woman then it’s a deed worth doing.
Nessie stared at him in instant regret. Everything he said was heart-breaking. If only any of his perceptions were true. She was the unhappiest wife in the world and the day before her village was raided, she only prayed that God take her life along with her dignity.
“My name is Nessie, by the way.”
“Altair. I do pray we find your husband alive.”
“I’m sure he prays too,” she said blankly.
Altair nodded uncertainly a bit startled by her lack of concern.
“How did your wife die?”
“I guess you could call it natural causes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She lived a long and full life. Maybe she was the lucky one.”
“And you’ve never been with anyone else ever since…?”
He almost answered but remained silent. He looked at her in confusion and went back to eating his snack.
“Well…God bless her and you for having a soul. Maybe you don’t see the good in your heart. But if more people were like you, it would be a better world, Artair.”
“Yes well…maybe if I were like more people, I would have cared enough to save the entire village. But I couldn’t.”
“You’re just one man.”
“No, I’m not,” he said, a bit foul. He became agitated and walked a few feet away from her, exhaling in silent grief. “Maybe I could have done more, a lot more. But I’m saving my strength. I go into battle soon. It may be my last battle. And to be honest, there isn’t much more I have to do on this earth.”
Even as he retreated, she found herself walking closer to him, eager to feel his intense discharge of energy, his strange but wonderful presence of otherworldly confidence. His voice, his temperament and his blue eyes did seem almost godly and not that of an ordinary man.
Artair noticed she was walking closer and instinctively walked further away.
“Easy now,” he said, as if warning an enemy about getting too close.
“What? What are you afraid of now? Afraid of a woman’s attention?”
“I’m not afraid of you, woman.”
“Then of what?”
“Perhaps what I fear most is myself. My nature.”
“Which tells you to do what?”
She walked closer to him and practically forced him to look at her ample bosom, waiting behind white rags. It wouldn’t take but two pulls and a tear to rid her of her clothes. Even as she wore them she looked too inviting. Her cleavage was perfectly shaped and her raggedy skirt barely covered her firm legs.
He tore himself from her body to find her eyes. Ashamed of his own thoughts he answered, looking at the ground in defeat. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. How am I to know your mind?”
He could take her now. Whether she consented or resisted, no one would ever know and no one could stop him. His desire was strong, more than it had been in years. His desires as a man were in full bloom, even at his age—a few hundred years past his prime. Just her scent and her presence not but three feet away from him, caused his manhood to stir. It had been too long since he felt a womanly touch. And it always was the cure for what ailed him.
“STOP,” he said, pointing his large and battle-weary rough finger. “You’re married.”
“What are you talking about, sir? I’m just having a conversation, am I not?”
“Get away from me,” he said reaching his hand out and creating a barrier. He dropped his arm but still eyed the acceptable distance from which she had to keep.
She “saw” his imaginary line. She knew that if she invaded his space again, his warrior instincts would kick in. He already gave her fair warning. If she valued her life she wouldn’t test him.
She eyed him cautiously and then slowly tiptoed into his private space, not even two inches into personal space.
He breathed in a deep exhale with the sound of aching rage. He grabbed Nessie into his arms and inhaled her scent. Recently washed, natural and only slightly damp from a good run. He kissed her fervently, tasting that lost sweetness that he hadn’t known for so many years. She didn’t kiss him back but she let him kiss her. Let him feel her lips and sample her tongue, allowing his strong hands to do as they please to her.
> He broke the kiss against his own raging desires. But seeing her hair fall back into place after a wild shake and her come hither eyes for him changed Artair’s mind. He pulled her back into his grasp and kissed her a second time, this time with passion, this time with great hunger. He felt guilt burning inside, but it had been so long since he knew the intimacy of a woman.
His rough unshaven face pricked at her cheeks and skin but it only teased her to come back for more, more touching, more burns across her face as their skin touched together. Her scent captivated him and within a few breathless moments he was tearing those rags in two. Maybe it was a skirt and a blouse but it looked like rags, and it was begging to come off. He tore her clothes into two long shreds with his burly hands and exposed her heaving breasts.
She was already panting at the thought, her heart pounding at the look in his eyes. Her body had been stripped of all covering. He looked longingly at her breasts and her genital hair, so perfectly feminine, her body heat so inviting. He scooped her up in his hands, letting her balance her weight on just his strong arms. He put his hot and exhaling mouth to her breasts, placing kisses all up and down her warming flesh. She groaned out loud not just in heat, but in reluctance. The feeling of helplessness, and the guilt of cheating and wanting to say no, made it unbearable to breathe.
He sucked her thick nipples into his mouth, tasting her forbidden fruit while grunting like an animal. Just as he got too consumed with the moist taste of her bosom, she broke away from him, shoving his face with hard force. She broke his grip but they both wanted more. It just felt better somehow to resist the intensity. The second time he went for a kiss she welcomed him back, smooching him on the lips and then sending him down to suckle at her tits.
She groaned aloud, feeling a sharp pang of pleasure. When he was through sucking on one she gave him the other, moaning even louder as he put her delicate pink nipple into his mouth. He used his teeth, his tongue and his lips to sample her curves.
As soon as he realized he was overdressed, he tossed her to floor, loving the look she sent back to him as she raised her head off the grass and asked him with her shivering, deep-breathing face to come back.
His clothes burned like fire and he tore at his own furs, and belts and shirts, stripping down to a vest, then to an undergarment. He ripped the white t-shirt into shreds, leaving only his open and hairy chest. She put her soft hands along his abdomen, tracing his muscles one by one. He pulled off his pantaloons and showed himself fully erect: a monster indeed, with that ten-inch girthy cock exposed.
She smiled into his eyes after taking a long moment to study his gifted member. Imagine a fit and honest man, with his cock not compromised by bad blood flow and overdrinking. A firm body and all the energy she could handle—for once.
He lowered himself down to her and impatiently waited for her to lie on her back. He shoved her down onto the grass and forcibly spread her legs, eager to see the inside of her pink pussy waiting for him, soaking up for him.
His loss of control only turned her on all the more so, and she spread her legs wider, bending her knees and readying the position for full penetration.
He leaned upwards to get his cock into position and penetrated her slowly, pushing passed her moist lips and falling into her reservoir of juices.
“Aaahhh!” she sang out, feeling his inches burrow deeper, slipping in past the comfort zone of her husband’s tiny, alcohol-mired dick which only reached four and a half inches. This man was long, a big thick cock to fill her up with veiny ridges that tickled her every time he withdrew and then pushed back in.
After slow stroking her for a few moments, he felt his passion returning and plunged his cock in harder, deeper and faster. Every time he felt himself leave her, her body tensed and her lips became tighter. When he pushed himself deeper inside, she was just a little bit wetter, and with every inch he shifted inside, her inner canal expanded giving him more room to explore.
Her breathing became frantic, as he pummeled his cock deeper inside, grabbing her arms and pinning them to the cold hard ground. Her breasts bounced back and forth slapping him in the face, which prompted him to bury his mouth in between them. He pumped his cock deeper and with more power, thrusting his hard buttocks up and down every time he went deeper.
Nessie’s body began to shake violently, as his cock was too strong and long to give out yet. Every passing minute of his rigid cock brought her closer to wailing out and losing all control over her body. He kept moving in deeper, hitting spongy areas inside that she never felt before and activating passions that were downright unwomanly and more animal-like. She screamed like a demon as she plowed her pussy deep, pulling out every inch just to see how wet his cock was, before sending it back inside.
Her breathing escalated and she grabbed him across the back, first hugging him but soon scratching him with her fingernails in desperation. It hurt but it was a good type of hurt, the kind that only made him pump harder.
The friction was too much to bear and he was moments away from losing it all. He grabbed her wrists tightly and pounded them on the ground, making sure she stayed motionless while his rock hard cock started to break.
“Unnghhh…”
He shoved himself in deep and stopped withdrawing. His whole body shook as he lost his might and spasmed in every direction, unloading his red cock into this married woman’s fertile chamber. She lost count as to how many times his angry sperm spurted into her valley, but still counted the number of deep exhales that he sent all over her neck, chest and chin.
“Ohhhh!” he gasped, still deep inside her even while his balls emptied and his cock began slowly decreasing in girth.
They found each other’s eyes and locked together for a few long and breathy moments. He finally pushed himself off her and lied back on the ground.
“That’s what happens when you invade my personal space, woman.”
“Oh believe me, I know that now.”
He looked over at her, studying her smile and gauging what she really felt about the whole thing.
“Something’s off, isn’t it? You’re not sorry about what we did. You asked for it. I told you not to push me.”
“I know. I never said I was happily married. I was simply with husband.”
“I see. And no children?”
She stared at him and kept silent. “No. The bastard doesn’t deserve my womb. But the way you unloaded on me, I believe that might change soon enough.”
“Ahhh,” he said. “I only do it the old fashioned way, don’t I?”
“Listen. Can I tell you a secret?”
“Might as well. We’ve shared so much else already.”
She smiled and bit her lip. “What I meant to say was…I didn’t trust you before. I had no reason to trust you.”
“Right.”
“I figured I would give you what you wanted. My body. If that’s what you wanted. But I wouldn’t turn over a child to you. Knowing the way marauders deal with the younglings.”
“I knew I saw a boy in that room…what happened to him?”
“He’s still there,” she said in anxiety. “I told him to hide in the closet under a barrage of clothes and don’t dare make a sound. He was safer there at the moment. But, Artair, the longer those ruffians stay there, the more likely they will find him…and kill him.”
Artair sighed. But how could he blame her? No woman in her right mind would trust a man with such knowledge. Maybe if nothing else, he was flattered that she finally trusted him at least a trifle’s worth to confess.
“Of course you know I’ll help you. The poor thing’s probably scared shitless if he’s still alive.”
“And my…husband?”
“Right.”
“He’s a no good, lying abusive son of a bitch. But I don’t think I could let him die just the same.”
“You’re a better person than I am, Nessie. Let’s go see what happened. But follow my lead. We can’t afford to get caught this time.”
**
IV
Artair agreed to walk the area by himself, hoping to distract the men from discovering Nessie, who had the task of finding the cottage where little Jayven was still, hopefully, hiding. Artair knew that if and when he was discovered it was would be a grueling fight. By now Emery’s men knew that he had deserted them. And that was as good a reason to die as any in this lawless land.
But little did Emery or even Nessie know that Artair was no ordinary warrior. He could well take all of them, even if it was a huge risk to his health and healing time for the upcoming battle. So he gave her a knife to carry in her ragged clothing—a bit more ragged and jagged than before now that Artair had done his worst—just in case something went wrong and she was discovered by the ruffians.
Artair went onward, inching his way around the site but not finding anyone of immediate threat. A pity, he thought, that he might not run into anyone out of necessity. Part of him really wanted to waste all this refuse. But this mission wasn’t about vengeance, just protection.
Or maybe a bit of vengeance, since by something more than happenstance Nessie ran into a familiar face.
“Nessie?” William said, smelling of alcohol as usual, but surprisingly bad timing nonetheless.
“William is that you?” Nessie asked.
“Of course it’s me. Where the hell have you run off to? I been looking everywhere for ye.”
“Oh have you now?”
“Savages raided the site while you were away. At first I hid myself, until I realized that if I just pretended to be one of the warriors, I could probably act my way out of a predicament. I grabbed my old tattered armor and joined the crowd.”
“Did you, now?” Nessie asked in suspicion.
“Aye. Ingratiated myself rather well. Although it was a bit rough having to put down some of my own people.”
“Wait a minute. You pretend to be one of their men…and then just attacked your own people?”
“Well I had to, didn’t I?” he asked defensively. “It was either me or them. Children you know, they don’t even count as lives when they’re so young.”
Kidnapped By The Highlander Lord (Scottish Highlander Romance) Page 62
