The Highlander Series

by Maya Banks

  He stepped inside the dark interior and glanced around, blinking to adjust to the darkness. He followed the sounds of the sniffling until he found her sitting on a bench along the far wall. She was partially silhouetted by a sliver of moonlight that crept in through the narrow window carved into the stone, and he could see that her head was bowed, her shoulders slumped forward.

  “Go away.” Her muffled voice filtered through the crumbling bathhouse.

  “Ah, lass,” he said as he sat beside her on the bench. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m not crying,” she said in a voice that clearly indicated she was.

  “ ’Tis a sin to lie,” he offered, knowing it would get her back up.

  “ ’Tis a sin to do nothing but yell at your wife, too,” she said mournfully. “You promised to cherish me, aye, you did, but ’tis God’s truth I don’t feel very cherished.”

  He sighed. “Mairin, you sorely try my patience. I imagine you’ll continue to exasperate me for years to come. I can tell you this won’t be the only time I yell at you. If I told you differently I’d be lying.”

  “You embarrassed me in front of your men,” she said in a low voice. “In front of that cretin stable master. He’s a toad and shouldn’t be allowed near a horse.”

  Ewan touched her cheek and brushed a long strand behind her ear so he could better see her face. He winced when he felt the dampness of her skin.

  “Listen to me, sweeting. Arthur and Magnus have been arguing in one form or fashion since before I was born. The day they stop arguing will be the day we lay them in the ground. They came to me about the horse, but I refused to render a judgment because it kept them focused on the horse. If I gave it to one or the other, then they’d find something else to argue over, and at least the horse is harmless enough.”

  “I took it away from the both of them,” she said. “She may be old but she deserves better than to be argued over by two daft old men.”

  Ewan chuckled. “Aye, they told me you stole their horse and that you relieved Arthur of his duties.”

  Mairin twisted in her seat and latched on to Ewan’s hand with her own. “How can that deplorable man be your stable master? Why, Ewan, he put his own horse into the cold without food or shelter. You would trust such a man with your own steed? A horse you would go into battle with?”

  Ewan smiled at her vehemence. She was a fierce little thing. She’d already come to view his keep as her home and she was taking over with quite the militant attitude.

  “I appreciate your determination to ensure we have the best possible care for my horses. But the truth is, Arthur is a magician with horses. Aye, he’s hostile and argumentative and he’s not very respectful, but he’s old and he’s been the stable master since my father was laird. He didn’t mistreat his mare, lass. I would have taken a whip to him myself if that was the case. ’Twas the story he told to save face after the horse took a bite out of his backside. He’s a complete lamb when it comes to the horses. They’re his babies, although he’d die before admitting so. He cares more for them than for any other living thing.”

  Mairin’s shoulders slumped and she looked down at her feet. “I made a fool of myself, didn’t I?”

  “Nay, lass.”

  She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I just wanted to fit in here. Be a part of a clan. I wanted to have duties. I wanted my clan to respect me, come to me with their troubles. I used to dream of having a home and a family. Not a day went by at the abbey that I didn’t imagine what it would be like to live free of fear and to be able to go my own way.”

  She chanced a look up at him, and he could see the vulnerability shining in her eyes. “That was all just a dream, wasn’t it, Ewan?”

  His heart turned over in his chest. It was true he hadn’t given much thought to her circumstances and how they’d affected her. For all of her adult life, she’d been sequestered at an abbey with only nuns for company and guidance. She’d grown to expect that her life would be hard and uncertain when all she wanted was freedom and someone to cherish her.

  So much of her actions and disregard for his authority made sense now. It wasn’t as though she set out to blatantly ignore his commands. She was merely feeling her way around and reveling in the first taste of home and family she’d ever experienced. She was spreading her wings and flexing her muscles for the first time ever.

  He gathered her in his arms and squeezed affectionately. “Nay, lass, it wasn’t a dream. ’Tis no less than you should expect from your new home and clan. You’re still finding your way. You’ll make mistakes and so will I. This is new for both of us. I propose a bargain. You be patient with me and I promise to try not to yell so much.”

  She went quiet for a moment and then she turned her chin up until she looked at him again. “That seems fair. I apologize for interfering in things that were not my concern. You were right. ’Tisn’t my place.”

  The hurt and defeat in her voice stirred something deep within him. “Lass, look at me,” he said gently, as he tipped her chin upward with his fingers. “This is your home and your clan. You are mistress here and as such your authority is second only to mine. I plan for you to have many years to look forward to making this your home and a place you’re comfortable with. There’s no need to have everything done in a day.”

  She nodded.

  “You’re cold, lass. Come back inside the keep so I can warm you properly.”

  As he’d hoped, his words made her stir restlessly against him. To give her added incentive, he fused his lips to hers, his heat melting her cold mouth. Ice against fire. In moments, she was returning his kiss with lusty, hot, open-mouthed kisses of her own. Lord, but the lass was a quick study in the art of kissing and using tongues.

  He’d spend a lifetime of being indecent in her eyes if she’d only continue kissing him thusly.

  “Come,” he said haggardly. “Before I take you right here and now.”

  “You’re a lesson in sinning, Laird,” she said in her prim, disapproving voice.

  He grinned and chucked her cheek in an affectionate manner. “Aye, that may be true, lass, but you’re no saint yourself.”

  Mairin watched her husband as she ate the food that Maddie delivered after Mairin and Ewan retired to their chamber. He looked deceptively lazy, sprawled on the bed, hands behind his head and legs crossed at the ankle.

  He’d stripped to just his trews, and she found it hard to concentrate on her food when he was lying there looking so blasted appealing.

  As she downed the last of her food, her conversation with Maddie came to mind. She ducked her head, sure that Ewan would see the blush rising on her face, and she had no desire to tell him her thoughts. Not when they were so deliciously indecent.

  But now that the thought had stuck in her mind, she studied him from the corner of her eye and wondered if she had the nerve to do as Maddie had described. It stood to reason that if he could make her so mindless with his mouth, the reverse would also be true.

  “Are you finished yet, wife?” Ewan drawled.

  She glanced down at the empty trencher and slowly set it aside. Aye, this was indeed the perfect time to try her wiles. She nearly giggled at the idea of her having wiles. Mother Serenity would be most stern over such a thought.

  Not wanting to seem too obvious, she took her time preparing for bed. She undressed with a great deal more care than she usually exerted, her every movement slow and sensual. Twice she peeked to the side to see Ewan watching her, his eyes dark and hooded.

  When she was completely nude, she sashayed to the basin of water and made a great production of washing. She turned to the side to give Ewan a good view of her profile, and she heard him suck in his breath when her nipples puckered in the wake of the damp cloth.

  Having worked up the sufficient courage and having had enough time to formulate her plan, she tossed aside the cloth and moved toward the bed.

  “You’re still clothed, husband,” she murmured as she stood over him.

  Though he sti
ll wore his trews, they did nothing to disguise the bulge between his legs. He was hard and getting harder with every passing second.

  “Aye, lass, but I can remedy that.”

  He started to push upward, but she reached down and pressed a hand to his chest.

  “ ’Tis my duty to undress you.”

  He settled back onto the bed as her fingers went to the laces of his trews. As soon as she loosened them sufficiently, his erection jutted upward. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to his size. And she couldn’t even fathom how she’d get it in her mouth, but Maddie seemed sure that it was done by plenty of women.

  When she had trouble tugging the material over his hips, he lifted them and his hands covered hers as he helped push it down his legs.

  When he would have sat up, she once again pushed him down, only this time she followed him down, until her lips were a mere breath from his.

  She kissed him, enjoying the feel of his mouth beneath hers. Her hands wandered over his chest, and she marveled at how hard and solid he was. The roughness of his scars contrasted with the bristle of the hair underneath her palms. His nipples puckered and hardened under her touch and she went back, rubbing over them again, fascinated by the reaction that was similar to her own.

  “What are you about, lass?” he murmured against her mouth.

  She smiled and nuzzled his jaw and kissed her way down to his neck just like he’d done to her. Judging by the sudden tension in his body, he liked it every bit as much as she had.

  “I have a theory,” she whispered as she hovered just over one flat nipple. Then she flicked her tongue out and licked the point until it hardened and jutted outward.

  Ewan groaned. “What is your theory, lass?”

  Placing both hands on his chest, she trailed her tongue down his midline until it dipped into his navel. He flinched and arched upward, his erection prodding at her side.

  “My theory is that men might enjoy being kissed … down there … as much as women enjoy a man’s mouth … down there.”

  “Ah hell,” Ewan gasped out.

  She curled her hand around his thick manhood and tucked the head between her lips.

  He sounded like a man taking in his last breaths of life. His body was so tense and bowed that he resembled a wooden beam. His hands flew to the bed and gripped the linens. Oh aye, he liked it.

  Emboldened by his obvious enjoyment, she took him deeper, running her hand up and down the shaft as she sucked him farther into her mouth.

  “Mairin,” he gasped. “Oh sweet heaven, lass. Have mercy.”

  She smiled and lowered her fingers to stroke his swollen sac. He arched his hips, thrusting even as she took him as deep as she could. He was impossibly hard, so turgid that she wondered how he didn’t split his skin.

  He throbbed in her hand, hard, yet velvety soft, like a steel sword encased in silk.

  “Lass, I can’t take much more. You need to stop before I spill in your mouth.”

  Still gripping him in her hand, she raised her head so she could look into his eyes. Her hair fell forward and he reached up to smooth it from her face, his palm cradling her cheek as he did so.

  “Would you like to spill in my mouth?” she asked shyly.

  “Ah, Mairin, that’s like asking a dying man if he wants to live.”

  She cupped his face between her hands and lowered her mouth to kiss him. Long and sweet, she licked over his lips and dove inside, brushing her tongue over his, tasting him and teasing.

  “I like the idea of tasting you,” she whispered.

  He cupped her breasts, and as she pulled away, he raised the mounds and lifted his head so that he could feast on her nipples. She leaned heavily on him, her knees weak and shaking under the onslaught. If she gave him half a chance, he’d turn the tables on her seduction.

  She pulled away but softened her withdrawal with another kiss, and then she kissed another path down his chest, to his firm belly and then beyond to the nest of hair where his erection jutted hard and bold.

  She licked first, tracing the bulging vein on the underside of the thick shaft. When she reached the head, there was already a droplet of liquid seeping from the slit. She lapped gently, sipping at the slightly salty taste of him.

  Ewan’s breath escaped in one long hiss, and when she lowered her mouth down his length, he seemed to lose all of his carefully cultivated control.

  He writhed on the bed, his movements desperate and unmeasured. She held him tight, using her tongue to drive him wild. His hand closed around hers and he pulled upward, his grip tightening as he worked her hand up and down. Realizing what it was he wanted her to do, she began to move her hand in rhythm with her mouth.

  “Ah, lass, like that. Just like that,” he moaned.

  His hand tangled in her hair and then gripped the base of her neck, holding her as his hips hammered upward. She took him to the back of her throat and then hot liquid exploded onto her tongue, filling her mouth in a seemingly unending stream.

  It was the most erotic thing she could have ever imagined, and never could she have thought that something so coarse and basic could have excited her beyond measure, but loving her husband in this fashion drove her as wild as it did him.

  She felt powerful and equal, like she could give him every bit as much as he gave her.

  He collapsed on the bed and slipped from her mouth. She swallowed the last of his passion and wiped at her lips with the back of her hand. His breaths came ragged and harsh and his gaze slid hotly over her as his chest heaved up and down.

  “Come here, lass,” he said hoarsely.

  He pulled her down on top of him so that their bodies fused, warm and sweaty. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

  Remembering Maddie’s assertion that men were much more amenable after loving, Mairin lifted her head until her hair drapped over his chest.

  “Ewan?”

  His hands smoothed over her shoulders and down to cup her buttocks. He squeezed and kneaded gently as he stared up into her eyes.

  “Aye, lass?”

  “I would like your promise,” she said.

  He cocked his head to the side. “What are you wanting me to promise?”

  “I realize we’re newly married and I don’t fully know the way of things, but I’ve discovered I’m a very possessive woman. I want your promise that you’ll be faithful. I know ’tis common for some men to keep a leman—”

  She was interrupted by Ewan’s scowl. Then he sighed.

  “Lass, you’ve just thoroughly worn me out. Do you mind telling me how on earth I’d have the energy to bed another woman?”

  She frowned. That wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear.

  He sighed again. “Mairin, I took vows. I didn’t take them lightly. As long as you prove a good and faithful wife, there’s no reason for me to seek out another woman. I wouldn’t dishonor you or myself that way. Your loyalty is to me, aye, but my loyalty is to you and any children you bear me. I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

  Tears crowded her eyes and she leaned down until their foreheads touched. “I’ll be faithful to you as well, Ewan.”

  “You damned well better,” he growled. “I’ll kill any man who touches you.”

  “Did you like me kissing you … down there …?”

  He grinned and raised his lips to smooch hers. “I liked it very much. I may require you to kiss me there every single night before we retire.”

  She frowned and punched him in the gut. He laughed and sucked inward in mock agony. He grabbed her wrists and rolled, careful not to jar her side. When they were on their sides, locked together, their faces so close she could feel his breath, he touched her cheek and rubbed with the back of his knuckle.

  “And now, lass, I’m thinking I have some kissing of my own to do. Complete with tongue.”

  She sucked in her breath until she saw spots dancing in her vision. “Tongue? Have I told you lately how indecent your tongue is, Laird?�
��

  “It can’t get any more indecent than yours just got,” he said.

  Then he proceeded to show her that indeed, he was far, far more indecent than she could ever dream of being.

  CHAPTER 23

  Ewan woke to a heavy pounding on his chamber door. Before he could rouse himself enough to answer the summons, the door burst open. Ewan was out of bed in the next instant, his hand on the floor and around the hilt of his sword.

  “Jesu, Ewan, ’tis just me,” Caelen said. “You were sleeping the sleep of the dead.”

  Ewan sat back on the bed and first pulled the furs up to shield Mairin’s nudity and then to shield his own. “Get the hell out of here,” he said irritably.

  “If my presence offends your maidenly modesty, I’ll turn my back until you dress,” Caelen said.

  “ ’Tis not mine I’m worried over,” Ewan snarled.

  “Well, hell, Ewan, I can’t see the lass, nor am I looking. ’Tis important or I wouldn’t have breached your chamber.”

  “Ewan?”

  Mairin’s sleepy voice rose from the covers, and her head poked out. Her hair was all rumpled, her eyes droopy, and yet somehow she still managed to look adorable. Even though Caelen claimed not to be looking, Ewan caught his brother glancing Mairin’s way.

  Ewan leaned over and brushed the hair from her face and then kissed her on the forehead. “Listen to me, sweeting. I want you to go back to sleep. You need your rest.”

  She murmured something he couldn’t hear and snuggled back underneath the blankets. He touched her cheek one last time and then rolled out of bed to pull his clothing on.

  He ordered Caelen into the hall until he was finished and then put on his boots and picked up his sword. With one final look in Mairin’s direction, he strode into the hall where Caelen fell into step with him.

  “Sweeting? You need your sleep?” Caelen mimicked. “I think you’re missing your scrotum, brother.”

  Ewan balled his fist and slammed it into Caelen’s jaw. Caelen went reeling and had to catch himself on the wall to keep from falling down the stairs.