Highland Sinner

by Hannah Howell

  Chapter 19

  Warm lips touched the hollow of her throat and Morainn sighed. She had not been able to push Tormand out of her dreams, but none of those dreams had felt as real as this one. Lightly calloused hands covered her breasts and she arched up into their warmth. She had thought about making love with Tormand one last time before returning to her cottage, but had not yet decided if that was a particularly wise thing to do. After a week of healing and getting to know her brother, however, plus the four days of sleeping through the worst of her injuries and three days of just trying to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time, she was starved for Tormand’s touch.

  “Morainn,” Tormand whispered in her ear. “Wake up, love. I want ye awake and eager for me as we make love.”

  That voice was not in her head as a dream-voice ought to be, Morainn decided. It had been whispered against her ear, each word sending a little brush of warm air to caress it. Morainn opened her eyes to find Tormand smiling down at her. They were also both naked. The decision about whether or not to add one more heated memory to the others she had of this man had been made. Now that he was in her arms, she did not have the will to let him go. All too soon her arms would be empty again, and stay empty.

  “Ye are a verra sneaky mon,” she said.

  “More a verra desperate, needy mon,” he said, as he nibbled at her lips. “It has been too long.”

  “Far too long,” she agreed and kissed him.

  The welcome in her kiss, the hunger lurking there that equaled his own, was all the invitation Tormand needed. He had reined in his need for her as she had healed and he now loosed those reins. He wanted to devour her, to bury himself deep within her again and again. Then he wanted to rest for a while and start the dance all over again. However, this time he would have to sate his hunger for her only once, at least until after they had supped and could share a bed again. There were things he had to do concerning their future together, plans that needed to be made and he could not delay them any longer.

  In truth, what he wanted was for her to love him, but he was not willing to wait until she did to claim her as his own. She cared for him. He was certain of it. She also shared his desire. It would be enough for now. And right now, he would make love to her until she cried out her need for him, reminding her of all that they did share.

  After kissing her until she was breathless and clinging to him, Tormand began to kiss his way down her slender body. He lavished attention on her full breasts until she was panting and arching against him, and then he turned his full attention to her other sweet spot. He lingered over each scar on his way to the prize he sought, determined to show her that they did not matter to him, did not dim her beauty in his eyes at all.

  Ever so gently he kissed his way down the scar on the inside of her right thigh and then up the scar on the left thigh. When he kissed the soft curls between her beautiful legs, her whole body jerked. A firm grip on her legs kept her from pulling away. A moment later he felt her tension, her lingering shock over such intimacy, fade away and she opened herself to his greedy attentions. Tormand proceeded to drive her to the heights of pleasure again and again without allowing her to tumble down.

  “Tormand,” Morainn moaned out his name, “cease this torture.”

  He grinned against her taut, silken belly despite the fact that his whole body shook with the need to be inside her. “Torture, is it?” he asked, as he slowly kissed his way up her body.

  “Tormand,” she snapped, and wrapped her legs tightly around him as soon as she felt his hard manhood brush against that place where she so badly ached for it to be. “Now.”

  “Demanding wench.”

  He murmured the words against her mouth and caught her gasp of delight as he swiftly joined their bodies. Tormand tried to go slowly, but Morainn’s hunger for him snapped what little control he had. With a soft growl, he began to move hard and fast, pushing them both to those delirious heights with an urgency he had never known before.

  Morainn glanced at the man sprawled on his back at her side. Her body still hummed with satisfaction and yet she could feel her hunger for him stirring to life again as she looked over his tall, strong body. Tormand Murray had turned her into a complete wanton, she thought, and felt no distress over that fact. She recalled how he had staggered from the bed, fetched a damp cloth, washed them both clean, and then collapsed back onto the bed as if he had used the last of his strength just to do that one little thing. It gave her pride a nice stroking to think that she had put the renowned lover into such a state.

  Looking at his manhood nestled limply in the nest of auburn curls between his strong thighs, she idly wondered if she could do something with it that would make him as crazed with desire as his intimate kisses had made her. She turned onto her side and draped her arm around his trim waist. When he opened his eyes, she smiled at him innocently even as she began to plot his downfall.

  “We still need to talk about Walin,” he said, his voice still husky from the passion they had just shared.

  That was the very last thing Morainn wanted to do. She lightly trailed her fingers up and down his hip and thigh. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a twitching of interest between his legs.

  Tormand ignored how his body responded to her idle caress. He had to go to court soon and he was determined to get the matter of Walin settled. It was not a good time to discuss all he wanted and needed from her, all his hopes and plans, but in talking about Walin’s future he could, perhaps, hint at a future for them. It might be enough to keep her at his side until he could make her fall in love with him.

  “I thought we could share the raising of him.” He felt the barest hint of faltering in the light, teasing caress she tempted him with. “Walin thinks it a fine plan. He wants both of us in his life.”

  “And what do ye want?” she asked.

  I want that small hand to move a wee bit to the left, he thought, but bit back the words and said, “The lad needs a family.”

  “Then he shall have one. As much a one as we can give him.”

  He had to take a deep breath to steady himself when, as if she had read his mind, she moved her hand and curled those long fingers of hers around his rapidly hardening manhood. “I think we could do weel by him.”

  His words made her think of marriage, of a future, of love and bairns with mismatched eyes. She forced such dreams aside. There had been no proposal of marriage, no words of love. She would not add to her pain by filling her head with foolish hopes and dreams. Worse, if she misunderstood what he was saying, expected more than he was offering, she could easily make a complete fool of herself.

  Feeling him harden to soft, silken steel in her hand, she decided she would distract him from talk of Walin and family. Morainn licked his belly and heard him groan. Tormand, she decided, might prove very easy to distract, perhaps even as easy as she was.

  Tormand wanted to discuss Walin and their future before he had to go and do his duty to his family by strolling around the court and trying to talk to people who could help his clan either through some sort of alliance or through a profitable venture of some kind. The feel of Morainn’s mouth on his skin, her soft hand stroking him, was making it difficult to think clearly, let alone speak. When she kissed the insides of his thighs his whole body tensed in eager and hopeful anticipation. He could not stop himself from jerking in surprise and fierce pleasure when she finally pressed those soft, warm lips against his erection.

  “Wrong?” she asked, even as she started to move away.

  “Nay,” he said as he thrust his fingers into her thick hair and silently urged her back to finish what she had started. “Right. Verra right.”

  Morainn continued to make love to him with her mouth, judging which touch, which kiss, which stroke of her tongue he liked best by his very vocal appreciation. She discovered that making love to him like this stirred her own passions, making her more daring, more eager to drive him to even greater heights of pleasure. When he asked her to
take him into her mouth, she barely hesitated before doing so and discovered that she had as much power over his body as he did over hers.

  A squeak of protest and surprise escaped her when he suddenly grabbed her under the arms and dragged her up his body. Dazed by her own tumultuous desires, it took her a moment to understand what he wanted her to do. When she finally began to ease herself down on him, taking him inside of her ever so slowly, she gasped at how good it felt. With his whispered encouragement stroking her ears, she rode him until they grasped the release they both craved and their cries of satisfaction blended like the sweetest of songs.

  Memories of her lovemaking with Tormand made Morainn smile as she slowly woke up. She reached out only to find the linen cool and empty where his big warm body had once rested and she sighed. It was for the best, she told herself sternly. There would be no need for any confrontation now. She could simply pack up her belongings and go home.

  Forcing herself to get out of bed, she got herself ready to face what she knew would be a very long day. As she went down to the hall to break her fast she tried to decide what to say to Walin. She was not surprised to find him seated at the table, a full plate in front of him. Walin loved to eat and Nora’s kinswomen were very good cooks. What did surprise her was that Adam was also there. The man had been to see her many times since the day he had told her he was her brother, but never so early in the morning. She eyed him a little warily as she sat down and filled her plate.

  “And what do ye plan to do today, Morainn?” Adam asked, as he served her a tankard of goat’s milk.

  The way the man watched her made Morainn think he already knew the answer to that question. Now that she thought about it, Adam had never once questioned her claims about her visions and dreams. She began to think her brother had quite a few secrets. She also wondered why he had given her goat’s milk. It was not something she often drank and yet she had wanted some the moment she had seen that it was available. Perhaps, she mused as she began to eat, it was not her mother who had gifted her with the ability to have visions.

  “I intend to return to the cottage,” she replied and saw not one tiny flicker of surprise on his face.

  “Then I need to pack my things,” said Walin.

  Morainn opened her mouth to explain all the choices the boy had, and then quickly filled it with a big spoonful of honey-sweetened porridge. She did not want to discuss his choices. Selfishly, she wanted him to come home with her without question. As she ate, occasionally reminding Walin not to eat too fast, she could feel her brother watching her. It was not until Walin had excused himself and run off to pack his things that Morainn chanced a glance at Adam only to catch him smiling at her.

  “Clever lass,” he murmured.

  “What do ye mean?” she asked.

  “Taking the lad with ye is certain to bring Tormand to your door.”

  “Ye think I would take Walin with me just to use him as bait?” To her shame she had briefly wondered if keeping Walin with her might cause Tormand to pause before separating them again, but she had not really considered the possibility that it might cause Tormand to chase after her.

  “Why do ye sound so insulted?”

  “Why shouldnae I be? That would be a devious thing to do.”

  “Aye. As I said—clever. Why dinnae ye just stay here?”

  “Because I wish to be the one who chooses when it is time for me to leave.” Morainn did not know why she was being so truthful, but something about the way Adam watched her seemed to pull the truth right out of her.

  “Pride. It can be a verra cold bedfellow.”

  “So can a mon who wishes to be in another woman’s bed e’en as he holds you.” She sighed. “I willnae wait around until he tires of me and sees another he wants. Aye, ’tis pride, and sometimes that is all one has to cling to.”

  He shrugged. “The mon kens that the boy sees ye as his mother. Mayhap he would marry you and make it legally so. He would be a fine prize for ye.”

  “Aye, he would be.” She had the distinct feeling he was goading her. “So would a big fat salmon.” She rolled her eyes when he laughed and then she pushed her empty plate aside so that she could rest her arms on the table. “I love him, Adam.”

  “I thought ye might. ’Tis why I did naught about his taking ye as his lover. So, why run from the chance to have him?”

  Morainn bit back the need to remind him that a brother who had remained unknown to her for three and twenty years had no right to tell her what she should do with her life or her chastity. Some of her annoyance with that came from the fact that she had lived her life as she pleased for too long. “I am nay running.” She grimaced when he just cocked one perfect dark brow at her. “Weel, mayhap I am, but only from the hurt I can see coming.”

  “Why would ye think that he would hurt ye?”

  “Because he doesnae love me. E’en men without Tormand’s sordid reputation for being a rutting fool will slip into another woman’s bed, succumb easily to temptation, if they dinnae love their wives. Aye, I ken that love isnae some impenetrable shield against all temptation, but it helps. Love also means that all the troubles, big and small, that come with marriage dinnae make ye immediately think of seeking out another to hold. I wouldnae survive if I married him and had to spend the rest of my days or nights wondering whose bed he was romping in. It would slowly kill me.

  “He hasnae spoken to me of marriage anyway. The mon enjoys his freedom. Right now I hold his interest, but that could change on the morrow.”

  “And ye dinnae wish to be here when that happens. Fair enough. But, if ye leave, ye lose the chance to make him love you.”

  Just the way Adam said the word love told Morainn that her brother did not believe in it, but now was not the time to argue that. “Ye cannae make someone love ye. He either does or he doesnae. And, if it takes too long for love to grow, if there are too many other women as I wait for the prize, then how much of my love for him will remain? Aye, I may be fool enough to still love him nay matter what he does to break faith with me, but I willnae trust him, and the hurt, the bitterness, will have twisted everything.

  “I need him to love me because I need him to be faithful. Every time he went into another woman’s arms, it would cut out another piece of my heart, of my verra soul. ’Twould be a folly to think passion and a little boy are enough to change the ways of a mon like Tormand. There has to be a stronger bond or he will continue to, as Nora says, leap from bed to bed like some demented toad.”

  Morainn waited patiently for Adam to stop laughing. He looked good when he laughed, she decided. The expression softened some of the harsher lines of his handsome face. Morainn had the feeling that he did not laugh very often and that saddened her.

  “Weel, I am nay sure I believe as ye do,” he said finally, his voice still a little hoarse from a lingering amusement, “but if that is what ye want.”

  “It is,” she said firmly. “Wheesht, ’tisnae as if I am sailing off to France in the dead of night. I but go to the cottage and Walin comes with me of his own free will. Tormand can find me there if he chooses to. And I think it will do me good to go home for a wee while. A house full of Murray men doesnae allow a lass to think verra clearly.”

  “Verra weel then. I will help ye. I would offer ye an invitation to come to Dubhstane but I ken ye wouldnae accept it.”

  “Nay, not now, but I wouldnae mind seeing the place sometime.”

  “Then ye will.” He looked at William who sat on the bench next to Morainn and watched him. “I suspicion helping when ye speak of packing means caging these cats, too.”

  Morainn stroked William’s soft fur. “Aye. They dinnae hurt the one putting them into the cages for all they growl, hiss, and try to wriggle free. And packing willnae take me long as I dinnae have much.”

  Several hours later Adam stood in front of Tormand’s house and watched Morainn drive off in the small pony cart he and Walter had found for her, the cats loudly protesting the travel. He was not sure he
believed all her talk of love, but he did know that she was sad, that Tormand had hurt her in some way. It was going to be difficult not to make the man pay dearly for that look of sorrow on Morainn’s face, but he would resist the urge to pummel him into the ground. This was Morainn’s battle.

  “He isnae going to like this,” said Walter, scowling after Morainn. “Nay, he willnae be happy. Lassies dinnae walk away from him, ye ken.”

  “Mayhap this will do him some good then.” To Adam’s surprise, a big grin split Walter’s homely face.

  “Aye, that it will. A good knock upside the head often works to knock some sense into a fool.”

  “Ye think he would be a fool to let my sister go?”

  “Biggest one in Christendom. Despite the way the lad has acted the last few years, he is a mon from a strong family, one that is filled with good, strong marriages and healthy bairns. ’Tis as though he has been fighting that, as though he has tried to shake free of all he learned. Weel, he has already had one epiphany.”

  “Oh? What was it?”

  “Had to make a list of all his lovers in this town and was fair sickened by what he saw, by the proof of the mon he had become.”

  “Ah, I believe Morainn said her friend called it leaping from bed to bed like a demented toad.” He smiled when Walter laughed.

  “That says it clear enough. Fool lad was in danger of wearing it out. But I could see that the lass had put the harness on that stallion. He has reached his settling time and that lass is the one he wants to settle with.”

  “And his family willnae care that she is a poor bastard with no lands or coin?”

  Walter made a sharp, derisive noise. “Nay, they willnae care. As for her visions and all that? Wheesht, she will just be another wee lass with a gift. The clan has a lot of them. Source of pride, it is.” He looked at Adam as they walked back into the house. “And that has me wondering where she got it from.”