Branded by a Warrior

by Andrea Thorne

  “It makes me feel things I should nae,” she professed in complete and utter honesty with him, her cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of pink.

  Taking her into a series of tight turns, he kept her close and whispered into her ear, “tell me what you feel my love” sinking his fingers gently into her hip with emphasis as they spun around the room.

  “I want you,” she confessed, quickly gasping with shock that she had actually said that.

  Her words floored him; he could feel her heart pounding against his chest, the erotic way she swayed with him as they danced. It was as if the words came out before she had a chance to stop them, complete honesty from his queen. It pleased him greatly.

  Turning together into a wide turn he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “I want you my queen, I want all of you.” Hearing her suck in a breath at his words, he smiled to himself as they danced.

  He had never been one for dancing, but with Elisabeth it was magic. They danced as one, effortlessly and sensual. Her every touch made him hard with desire for her. Warm desire emanated from them as they looked into each other’s eyes as they rotated around the room with other dancers. The world was forgotten.

  The famous dance they were so deeply engrained in required them to separate and spin individually; releasing her reluctantly, he did the steps before turning back. Running his hand across her hip as they came back together he looked into her eyes and saw tears, fresh raw tears.

  “What is wrong lass?” he questioned immediately, bringing her closer so none could see her cry, he knew she would be embarrassed.

  “Accident, someone ran into my shoulder,” she admitted trying to banish her tears. The floor was indeed crowded, little room to maneuver caused the occasional run in from time to time. She looked up at Broderick’s strong face and saw his jaw muscles clench, as he pulled her out of the dancing circle.

  Entwining his fingers with hers again he pulled her over into a secluded corner of the hall and searched her face, “Would you like to go upstairs lass? As laird I cannot join you just yet, but if you’d like to go rest I’ll come up in a bit. The dogs are up there waiting for ye.”

  Nodding in agreement she clenched her jaw in attempt to stop the tears of pain from rolling down her face. She was weary and her shoulder throbbed in agony, she needed to lay down, the quietness of his room sounded heavenly right now.

  “Go on upstairs love, I’ll see you soon,” he ordered as he gently nudged her in the direction of the tower rooms. Watching her walk away, one hand holding her injured shoulder until she disappeared down the darkened corridor. He turned back to the celebration; his mood had been drastic altered seeing her in pain.

  As laird, he had to stay for several more hours before he could turn in. He wanted nothing more than to follow Elisabeth upstairs and peel that dress off her with his teeth and kiss away her pain. Yet, he had to see to his duty. Joining a group of elders, he got a fresh cup of mead and attempted to whittle away his time until he could join her.

  The music faded in the background as Elisbeth rubbed her throbbing shoulder; trying to contain the tears of agony she felt building up. While dancing, she had taken her outside steps and ran directly into a fellow female dancer with tremendous force, directly into her injured shoulder. It was the same dark-haired woman she had yet to meet, and the same one who always glared at her. Tonight had been no accident, the wench was jealous.

  Walking from the keep towards the tall tower she heard voices down the hall that captured her interest, whispers down a darkened hallway during a celebration couldn’t be a good thing. Hearing Broderick’s name made her notice even more. Unable to see them, as they were down an adjoining hall, she could hear a pair of women.

  “He acts as if our betrothal doesn’t stand any longer! Did you see the way she sat in his mother’s chair? No woman has sat in that chair in almost ten years Mother! They act as though they are already lovers ” the first woman spat out in a tantrum down the darkened hall.

  “Broderick will marry you Siobhan, he’s still punishing you for running off all those years ago. The Drummond girl will never be our queen, you will Siobhan. The entire clan expects it. Broderick will do what is right as he always does my sweet, fear not,” the older woman cooed in a soothing tone trying to calm down a very jealous Siobhan.

  Betrothal? Broderick didn’t act as if he was betrothed to another woman; his actions were very much the opposite. Did that women speak the truth? Confused and in agony, Elisabeth pressed on towards the room she had shared for a fortnight with Broderick. At least she finally had the name of the wench who crashed into her tonight, there was no doubt it she was one in the same.

  Opening the door she was greeted happily by Conn and Isla, walking over to the fireplace she sat down slowly in the chair and pulled her dress down over her injured shoulder as the hounds sat at her feet.

  The linen bandage was soaked with bright red blood; the blow Siobhan had delivered on the dance floor ripped open her injury. Bowing her head she shed silent tears before the fire as her wolfhounds whined at her feet. Her wound hadn’t hurt this bad in days. In pain and confused at what she heard, she let her tears fall as searing pain coursed through her shoulder. Cursing herself for being unable to control her emotions once again, she closed her eyes and focused on controlling her breathing.

  Below in the keep, Kendrix eventually found Broderick after enjoying a few tankards of ale and a handful more dances with some lovely lassies.

  Kendrix took a long drag of his ale before asking his brother, “How is Elisabeth? Did she retire after her rude introduction to Siobhan?”

  Confused, Broderick ordered, “Explain what ye mean Brother.”

  “When ye and the lass were dancing earlier, on the outside steps, that bloody wench Siobhan crashed into Elisabeth’s injured shoulder with such force. Few witnessed it, but I tell you, Siobhan’s actions were intentional.”

  “Elisabeth said it was an accident and asked to retire soon after” he retorted, growing suddenly upset that Elisabeth hadn’t told him the truth and that Siobhan dared to hurt her.

  Smiling and taking another drink, Kendrix tilted his head and offered, “The she is even more gracious than we imagined, the looks Siobhan gave her all night and the sneer after the impact were apparent to Elisabeth, and all who watched tonight Broderick. Siobhan is jealous, and our dear Elisabeth paid the price tonight.”

  “Shite, take over here Brother, I’m going to check on her,” nodding to Kendrix, Broderick exited the hall and made his way down the corridor to the stone stairs. Taking them by twos he was at his room in seconds.

  Pushing the door open he saw the back of her head in his chair before the fire, she was asleep. His dogs looked up at him, and then went right back to sleeping at her feet. Closing and locking the door behind him he unsheathed his broadsword and walked around the chair to place it on the mantle as he did every night.

  Turning to look at her, he saw her dress was pulled low to reveal a bloody shoulder. The linen around her shoulder seeped bright red blood as she lay sleeping in his massive leather chair. Her eyes swollen and red from crying, he felt like a bloody ass.

  Kneeling in front of her, he picked up her hands and whispered her name, “Elisabeth, wake up lass,” rubbing his thumbs over the top of her soft hands.

  Scowling, she slowly opened her eyes, seeing him kneeling before her she looked over at her shoulder and grabbed her dress trying to cover her bleeding wound and the top of her bare breast.

  “Dinnae you remember when I said omissions would be viewed as lying Elisabeth?” he asked as he saw her scramble to cover herself, his voice accusing.

  Lowering her eyelids she shot him a look that would have sent a normal man running, “Does the same rule apply to you Broderick? Or are you like so many men and simply believe that the rules dinnae apply to yourself?”

  Crossing his arms he stood up and looked down at the irate woman, “Explain.”

  “I want my own room Broderick, tonight!”
she seethed.

  Looking to the heavens Broderick walked around her and over to his wardrobe, pulling off his chest tartan he folded it with care and sat it back down in the drawer before pulling off his linen shirt and tossing it over the chair by his desk. In only his kilt and kneeboots he sat down and ignored the infuriating women across the room that was watching him like a hawk.

  Pulling his boots off his tossed them by his desk and looked up at Elisabeth, “Ye will stay in this room Elisabeth.”

  Standing up slowly, she turned around to face him fully, “Fine, then you find a different room, maybe with your betrothed!” She had never felt such jealousy rage flow through her before tonight. It was an emotion she was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with.

  The wolfhounds stood up and looked up at Elisabeth as she raised her voice, looking from their new mistress to their master, the dogs grew wary.

  Kendrix was right; she was stunning when she was mad, she had so many facets. He could see the warrior in her stepping out to engage him; he had never wanted her more than this moment. Standing up slowly, he crossed the room barefoot wearing only his kilt.

  Instead of going around the chair he grabbed the back of it and threw it out of his way, sending it bouncing off the stone wall of the castle room. The hounds moved quickly out of the way and ran under the bed.

  Standing tall, Elisabeth didn’t even flinch as the chair was tossed, her eyes were locked on him as Broderick walked towards her shirtless. His eyes flashed as he approached her, his muscles rippling across his chest and rock hard abdomen. He had scars peppered over his tan skin. She wanted to kiss each one. She wanted his attention, and lord had she received it.

  “Omissions, point taken Elisabeth. I was betrothed at one time, many years ago, however she ran off with another man and married. He was a warrior and died in the same battle my parents did. Siobhan continues to believe our betrothal still stands since she is a widow; she’s desperate and malicious, and will never be my queen, ever,” his words dripped in contempt for the woman, stepping closer to her, he wound a hand around her silk covered hip and pulled her up against his bare chest and looked down into her eyes, “there is only one woman who will be my queen, you.”

  Her heart skipped a beat with the last word, looking up into his face she leaned up on her tip toes and kissed him as she ran her hands up across his chiseled chest and up into his glorious soft hair. Opening her mouth she ran her tongue across his lips as he picked her up into his arms and cradled her against his chest. His kiss was ravenous as he walked over to the massive bed, she felt on fire and needy. There was no way she would let him get away from her tonight. She needed this man to make her a woman, there could be no other for her.

  A few candles still burned in the room giving them enough light to see each other clearly, sitting her down on her feet before the bed, he slowly pulled the silken gown off of her ivory skin with ease, letting it fall to the floor in a pile.

  Standing before him, she stood completely naked except for her bound shoulder, shameless with desire she unlatched Broderick’s kilt belt and let it fall to the floor beside her dress.

  Biting her lip as she cast her gaze on Broderick’s magnificent body she felt herself grow wet with desire as she saw him standing in all his glory before her.

  Scooping her up in his arms, he laid her down on his bed. Crawling overtop of her like the conquering warrior he was, he placed kiss, upon kiss on her body as he worked his way up to her neck. His hands traced her skin as he nudged her legs apart with his knee.

  Nibbling on her ear, he eased his fingers into her slick core in one smooth thrust, moving them in and out he whispered into her ear as she moaned his name.

  “Open up for me my love, feel me, you are mine.”

  Arching into him with wanton desire Elisabeth bit her lip as Broderick stoked her desire, his hand was making her come alive, between sensual moans she whispered, “Yes, yours Broderick.”

  Nudging her legs farther apart he knelt between her ivory legs and removed his hand, pulling her hips down towards him, locking eyes with her, his arms holding him up above her he looked down into her eyes, “Marry me Elisabeth, be my queen? I know we have both declared that marriage was not for us, but there is no other woman in this world more suited to become my wife, I need you.”

  Biting her lip she looked into his face and tears brimmed in her soft green eyes, “Aye, Broderick, you are the only man for me.” She whispered as she ran her hands up his rippling arms.

  Claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss he lowered himself down and entered her slowly, only placing the tip of his massive cock inside her. He pulled in and out trying to prepare her, he was sure she was a virgin, he wanted to ease her pain the best he could.

  Elisabeth felt his hard cock against her wet center, lifting her hips for more she urged him on, desire flowed through her and she wanted more.

  Digging her nails into his back she moaned as he sank deeper into her, “Please Broderick, make me yours forever!”

  Hearing her pleas made him sink in farther, slowly stretching her until he hit her maidenhead, kissing her he whispered against her mouth as he thrust forward, obliterating her virginity, “Mine, forever”

  The pain rippled though her body, she had known it was coming. Compared to her shoulder pain, it barely made her flinch as she took in the erotic sensation of having Broderick fully inside her. His possessive words made her feel protected and cherished, worthy and loved even though no words of love were whispered between them, she felt it.

  Running her hands through his hair as he slid in and out of her slowly, sensually, she watched as his muscles flexed with his thrusts. Her hips rolled with his pace as he wrapped her legs around his hips and grabbed his ass as he buried himself to the hilt time and time again.

  Licking her nipple he sucked on it as her breasts bounced to the cadence of their rhythm, “Jesu Elisabeth, you are so tight, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted make you mine, you are perfection,” whispering in the darkness as the candles slowly burnt out one by one.

  “Teach me how to please you Broderick, show me,” she begged with a breathless whisper as she ran her hands over his shoulders, kissing his neck as he increased his pace, pounding into her as their need grew.

  Rolling over quickly, he had her sitting atop of him, his hands on her hips showing her how to ride upon his velvet cock, “You are in control my queen, I will teach you all you need to know. Nothing between us is forbidden, as you are mine, I am yours”

  Biting her lip she straightened her shoulders and rolled her hips moving up and down upon his large cock, with his hands upon her hips he helped her rise and fall.

  Her hair began to fall from the crown upon her head down across her back in loose curls as she rode him, her urge bordering on oblivion, leaning down she kissed his mouth as he grabbed her ass and pounded into her, “Mine,” she whispered biting his lip as he buried himself deeply.

  One hand on her ass, he buried his other hand deep into her curls as he pulled her closer to her release, taking her mouth he worked his hips as she exploded into climax, throwing her head back she screamed his name as she milked his cock with her core.

  Elisabeth had stirred an emotion in him long thought dead as he watched her climax; he had given himself a part of her he had protected viciously for years. He had entrusted this woman his heart without even telling her, they had claimed each other in a beautiful union that he had never experienced in his life. No other woman had made him feel this way, no other woman made him feel the desire and possession he felt as she rode his rock hard shaft. She had knocked down his walls and marched into his heart, as he watched her have wave after wave of raw pleasure he silently handed this woman the key to his heart. Joining her moments later, he squeezed her sweet ass as he pulled almost all the way out and thrust back into her warm center time and time again, locking eyes with the dreamy eyed vixen, he whispered, “Mine,” as he thrust one last time into her, filling her womb with his hot seed h
e released his unfiltered climax, refusing to hold anything back from her.

  Catching her in his arms, he brought her down beside him and brushed away her fallen hair, claiming her sweet mouth as he slowly pulled out of her and tucked her into his arms, both breathing heavily.

  Chapter 6

  Waking to the sound of people in the bailey below, Elisabeth stretched out in the bed and reached for her betrothed only to find herself alone in bed. Temporarily saddened at his absence, she looked around the room to see he had taken the hounds with him as well, but had left her something.

  On his chair, now placed back by the fire, she saw his carefully folded tartan plaid over the chair with a note attached to it. Pulling back the warm covers she walked across the room naked to the waiting plaid and picked up the parchment.

  To the queen of my heart,

  Please wear my plaid, join me downstairs when you wake.

  Yours forever,

  B.

  Setting aside the note she saw not only had he left the plaid, he had also left a beautiful golden thistle broach for her to secure it over her shoulder as his clans people did. To the left of the plaid was the golden dagger he had given her last night, along with a two matching golden cuffs for her arms, both bearing the MacMillan crest.

  Her heart warmed at his kind gesture, he was a thoughtful man. Smiling, she turned around to get dressed and find her future husband for the day.

  Slipping into a warm dress, she had pulled back the window covering to see that a blanket of fresh snow had fallen upon the castle grounds while they slept last night. Securing his tartan over her shoulder and across her breast falling at her hip, his colors of red and green looked wonderful against the light ivory gown she had chosen. Slipping on her golden cuffs she attached the thistle broach above her heart, and secured the golden dagger at her hip.

  Looking in the small mirror she brushed her hair until it crackled and shined. Plaiting her long hair she wound it up into a crown upon her hair.