Seduction Of A Highland Warrior

by Welfonder Sue-Ellen

  Releasing her, he shoved a hand through his hair. “I told you once no’ to push me, to ne’er tempt me again. I tried to leave be, did my damndest to forget you, even stayed away for a year. And ne’er in all that time did I even look at another woman. It was you I wanted, Norn. It’s only ever been you.”

  Marjory pressed a hand to her cheek, her heart thundering. Her eyes stung and a vein in her throat was beating wildly. “Oh, dear saints…”

  “The devil more like!” He reached for her again, gripping her hips and pulling her close, against his groin, his straining arousal. “Only he would torment a man so.” He kissed her, hard and fast. “When you stormed into the clearing, all indignant and beautiful, I could resist you no more. I had to have you. Nae, I must have you.” He unbuckled his sword belt, tossing it aside. He whipped off his plaid with even greater speed. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I laid eyes on you. And I’ll defy your brother, the Scottish crown, and even the gods themselves if they try and keep me from making you mine.”

  “Alasdair…” Marjory could hardly speak past the lump in her throat. Her vision blurred, her eyes swimming with stinging heat.

  Alasdair—her beloved Alasdair—stood naked before her in the Thunder Cave, light and shadow dancing across his tall, strapping body. He set his hands on his hips, making no attempt to hide his maleness, so roused and magnificent. There could be no doubt that he wanted her. Or that he intended to mate with her here, this night.

  Only one worry rose through the haze of desire.

  So she stood tall, as proud as she could. “You didn’t say you love me. Or that you wish to wed—”

  He frowned. “I would no’ be here if I didn’t love you.”

  He was on her with three swift strides. And somehow, he had her out of her cloak, her gown, before she realized what was happening. When only her shift remained, he hooked his thumbs beneath the shoulder straps. His gaze burning into hers, he ripped the gown off of her, rending the linen with a loud tear. The sound echoed through the cave as her ruined shift fluttered down her legs to pool around her ankles.

  She gasped, feeling vulnerable as the cave’s chill, damp air hit her exposed skin.

  “You take my breath, lass.” His gaze drifted over her, hungrily. “More beautiful than I’d dreamed.”

  She shivered when he ran his hand down her arm, trailed the backs of his fingers across the top swells of her breasts. Something in the deepest, most womanly part of her clenched, liquid heat swirling low by her thighs. Her excitement rose, spinning out of control.

  Her knees felt weak, unable to support her.

  This was the fever Isobel and Catriona had told her to expect.

  The bright, all-consuming desire that fired the blood, blazing with the heat of a thousand suns—until quenched by a man’s loving.

  “So you do love me?” She needed to be sure.

  “I love you more than my own life.” He gripped her wrists and held her arms to the side. He looked her up and down again, his eyes darkening as he surveyed her nakedness. “I have dreamed of you nightly, ached to see you so, burned to take you in my arms, hold you close, skin to skin, claim you as mine. Again and again, for I know I’ll ne’er have enough of you. So, aye, I love you.” He lowered her arms, stepped closer. “I love you more than my land, my clan, and my word to a King. And, aye, I will wed you.” His voice was rough, his roused manhood nudging her hip. “I’ll prove my love to you this night. Then I’ll speak with my council. We’ll leave the glen if such is deemed necessary. In a few years, Ewan can step up as chief. Until then, the elders will guide him.”

  “You’d leave Blackshore? The glen?” Marjory touched his face, tracing his jaw with her fingertips. “You would do that for me?”

  “I would slay dragons for you,” he vowed, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to the mound of bear-and wolfskins. “I’ll even speak with Kendrew, though I cannae see good coming of that!”

  “He will—”

  “Mind his peace, if he is wise.” His voice took on a hard edge, his steely resolve sending shivers through her. He met her gaze, holding it as he knelt on the furs. Settling her into their softness, he smoothed his hands down her sides and back up again, possessively. “Nothing matters except you. This night and always.” He stretched out beside her, his gaze hot and fierce. “I’ve waited too long to make you mine.”

  “Then do.” She turned in his arms, curving her hand around his neck and pulling him to her. “I’ve waited no less.” She blinked, not wanting him to see the tears burning her eyes. “I have loved you all the while, ever hoping, yearning for your return—”

  “Marjory…” He slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her long and deep. She leaned into him and he curved his hand around her hip, drawing her even closer. Their tongues stroked and swirled, the sharing of their breath so intimate she melted from the pleasure.

  He broke the kiss, easing back to look at her. “You know what is about to happen?” He slid a hand over her breasts, kneading them gently, brushing the tips with his thumb. “It willnae be easy, but I can stop now. You must tell me if—”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips before he could finish. Smiling, she shook her head. “The Thunder Caves were my last hope,” she admitted. “I believe the gods caused you to veer in to the Thunder Vale. I could’ve warned you that the burns would be flooded, but I didn’t want to risk one final chance to see if you—”

  “Would fall under your spell?” He took her hand, pressing her palm to his chest. “Do you feel my heart?” When she nodded, he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers. “Its pounding should tell you I am yours and aye have been. You didn’t need your Thunder Vale and its caves. Though I am glad we are here!”

  “It is a grand place.” Marjory glanced at the slanting star-and moonbeams dancing about the cave, silvering the floor and walls. Candlelight flickered across the ancient drawings, giving them life so the entwined couples appeared to move, writhing in passion, unaware that they were observed. Shivering, she reached to twine her fingers in Alasdair’s hair. His earthy male scent filled her senses, thrilling her. She looked back at him, her heart beating wildly, so many longings swirling inside her.

  “I thought to seduce you here.” The truth slipped from her lips before she could stop them.

  “I told you, sweet, you did that long ago.” He smoothed his hand down her side, shaping every dip and curve, slowing his fingers perilously near the part of her that rippled with pure molten heat.

  “You were gone so long.” Those words, too, fell before she could stay them. “You said there were many—”

  “So I did, and there were. But no’ many women as you were about to say.” He laughed, the sound low and dark in the cave’s vastness. But then the levity left his face and he sealed his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply. When he pulled away, he caught and held her gaze. “Many were my thoughts of you, great was my need. When I slept, I saw your face, dreamed of you. If I walked through Inverness and spotted a woman’s fair and shining hair, my heart would leap. Then I’d see she wasn’t you and I’d feel like someone punched me in the ribs. On the nights I lodged at a friend’s hall and his lady sat beside him at the high table, my heart ached because I wished you graced my side at Blackshore.”

  “Alasdair…” Marjory slipped her hand down his shoulder, gliding her fingers along his hard-muscled arm. “I never knew, though I’d hoped.”

  “I did try to forget you. I finally believed I had.” He captured her hand, placing it back on his chest. “Yet there were times, especially sailing home through the Hebrides, when the moonlit nights were so beautiful and I’d ache to hold you, kiss and touch you everywhere. Then I’d remember all the reasons I shouldn’t love you, damned good reasons, and I’d want nothing more than to smash something. Or”—his smile flashed—“to kill your brother.”

  “You may yet have the chance.” Marjory was sure that was so.

  But she didn’t want to worry about Kendrew no
w.

  She wanted…

  “Oh my!” She froze. Alasdair was touching her everywhere.

  Somehow he’d wrapped an arm around her, drawing her even closer to him. And his knee was now between her thighs. His hand was also there, gliding ever upward, his fingers drifting oh so lightly over the part of her that thrummed so deliciously. Holding her gaze, he stroked her even more intimately, circling his thumb over a spot that sent bolts of intense pleasure spearing through her.

  She caught her breath, arching into his hand, wanting more of the exquisite sensations.

  A shimmer of embarrassment flickered through her mind, but then all thought spun away. All that remained were the wondrous feelings whispering across her flesh. Sensations more thrilling than anything she’d ever experienced. When he slipped a fingertip inside her, his thumb and other fingers still working such magic, she tensed, digging her hands into the bearskin’s thick pelt.

  “My precious.” Alasdair’s voice was deep, coming as if from a distance.

  “Kiss me.” She wanted his kisses badly.

  “I will,” he promised, glancing at her. A wicked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when, instead of kissing her, he leaned back to look at her breasts. He cupped and rubbed them, rolling her nipples between his fingers. “I shall kiss you here.”

  “What?” Marjory’s eyes rounded.

  “You’ll no’ be denying me the pleasure,” he vowed, splaying his hand across the full rounds of her breasts. “I have craved the taste of you for long. I’m done with the waiting.”

  From somewhere—his chest?—there came a low rumbling, almost a growl. Then he rolled over her, his big, strong body seamed to hers as he kissed her breasts, opening his mouth over her tightened nipples to lick and draw on them. With his hand, he kept on cupping and kneading her, the pleasure almost unbearable. And still he stroked and teased the damp, swollen flesh between her legs.

  “Please…” She squirmed against the furs, certain she’d break apart from the maddeningly sweet sensations. “I can’t stand it.”

  He stopped at once, looking up at her. “Enough? Shall we leave now? No more touching? Are we done kissing already? Shall I no’—”

  “Yes!” She pushed up, reaching for him. “I mean no, I don’t want to stop. I’ve waited long, too.” She rushed the words, her cheeks heating to admit her desire. “I want you to love me.”

  She now knew that he did, with his heart.

  She meant his body.

  “Och, lass, I shall.” He spoke low, his gaze burning into hers, leaving no doubt he’d understood. “As soon as you are ready, I will—”

  “I am now.” She was certain. “I know of such things. Isobel and Catriona have instructed me. And”—she hoped only she heard her voice waver—“I have seen beasts at Nought. Horses and cattle—”

  “Indeed.” He arched a brow, his hands spending such magic, his gaze amused.

  “Yes.” She hissed the word through her teeth when he slid a second finger inside her, his thumb now circling with even more deliberation.

  “So I see.” He slid his fingers through her intimate curls. “Then tell me, sweet, if your Nought beasties do this…”

  Leaning forward, he nipped and sucked on her lower lip before moving down her body to settle himself between her legs. “I would know the truth,” he challenged, holding her gaze. He eased her knees apart and lowered his head, nibbling and kissing his way up the inside of her thighs. “I promise that no creatures at Blackshore are so skilled,” he teased, his face now only a shiver away from that place.

  Marjory stared at him, torn between begging him to stop and urging him on. “You can’t mean to…” She felt herself blushing, also felt his soft, warm breath on her most intimate flesh. “Dear saints!”

  “Indeed.” He gave her a wicked smile, his gaze locked on hers as he opened his mouth over her, licking deep.

  “O-o-oh, no…” Her hips bucked and she gripped the bearskin so tightly that her knuckles whitened. Her entire body tensed and then fell apart, pleasure such as she’d never imagined, streaming out from where he licked her, tasting her so intimately.

  “I see you like this.” He paused, watching her intently. “But you’ll no’ be enjoying it as much as I am. You, my love, are a succulent treat to be tasted to the full, savored deeply.” As if to prove his words, he lowered his head again, circling his tongue over the same incredibly sensitive spot he’d rubbed with his thumb.

  And this time she truly couldn’t bear the pleasure.

  “Alasdair, please…” She grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him away.

  “Nae, sweet, no’ yet.” He started licking her again. Long, leisurely sweeps of his tongue across her hot, tingling flesh. With his thumb, he once again rubbed the place that spent the most intense pleasure. “Only when you truly melt will I touch you.”

  “You are touching me and”—she arched into him, desperate for more, something she felt hovering just at the edge of her reach—“I am melting!”

  “No’ yet,” he argued, lifting away from her. “But you soon will be. I dinnae wish to hurt you.” Still watching her closely, he reached down and dragged his fingers across her wet and sensitive flesh. Then, as her eyes rounded, he circled the long, thick shaft of his arousal, damping his own flesh with the moisture that glistened on his fingers. Her woman’s dew that Isobel and Catriona had told her about, swearing it would ease her first time lying with him.

  Even knowing what it was, her face heated to look on as he finished and then stretched out on top of her, his manhood hot and heavy against her hip. And then—his eyes darkened, masculine triumph flaring—as he reached between them so that his arousal nudged at her. He curled his other hand around her neck and slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her fiercely, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth as…

  He thrust the hard length of himself inside her, claiming her at last. Fiery pain shot through her and she gasped, gripping his shoulders. At her cry, he stilled as her body tensed and tightened around him. But the sharp stinging eased quickly and before he could pull away, she reached to cradle his face, kissing him deeply. She rocked her hips, encouraging him with all her womanly instincts to keep on, to make her his now and forevermore.

  “Norn…” He raised up on his elbows, his eyes glinting so darkly she’d think they were black if she didn’t know otherwise. “I’m sorry, sweet. Ne’er would I cause you pain.”

  “I’m fine.” She spoke true, the hot pinch she’d felt insubstantial to the rush of happiness sweeping her. The joy of lying so closely, skin to skin, intimately joined with the man she loved so fiercely. “I knew there would be some pain—”

  “Hush, lass.” He silenced her with more kisses, used his thumb to circle that special place again. Gentle touches, each careful rub sent pleasure rippling through her. Then, sure and with determination, he began to move his hips, pushing deeper into her, inch by slow inch.

  “My precious…” He raised his head, closing his eyes as the hard, thick length of him stretched and filled her. Veins stood out on his neck, his body tensing above her. She saw a muscle jerk in his jaw and then she knew little more because the sweet circling of his thumb was sharpening her need. She trembled as the sensations grew, drawing her closer to a glittering edge of delight where the pleasure was almost beyond bearing.

  Then he opened his eyes, looking at her with such smoldering heat she almost slid right over that tempting, beckoning release.

  But there was something so glorious, so right, about locking gazes with him, looking so deeply into each other’s eyes as they were joined so intimately.

  “My heart, I love you so.” She smoothed the damp hair at his brow.

  “Norn.” His voice was rough, the sweetness of it making her heart ache. “You are mine.” He caught her wrist, lifting her arm above her head, linking their fingers. “I will ne’er let you go. No’ ever.”

  “You won’t have to.” She looked past his shoulder to the cave’s domed ceiling.
The naked cavorting pairs no longer embarrassed her. Now, the way they seemed to move in the candle glow encouraged her, urging her to rock her hips more sinuously.

  Gripping Alasdair’s hand, her other arm wrapped around his shoulders, she matched his rhythmic thrusts as he deepened his strokes. His body’s claiming of her as binding as his words of love.

  So why was one of the etched figures looking at her with such pity?

  Marjory blinked, narrowing her eyes at the red-and-black drawing of a voluptuous female riding astride an equally well-built man.

  The painted couple did appear to be alive, the candles’ dancing flames giving them substance, life.

  They did seem to be moving, the woman lifting up and down atop the male. Her head was thrown back as if in ecstasy, her hair wild and free, flowing down her back. But she was no longer peering down at Marjory, a world of sorrow in her darkly etched eyes.

  Nor had she looked at Marjory at all.

  Her pleasure, the excitement and her carnal bliss, were playing tricks on her.

  Still, despite the heat swirling around her and Alasdair, she felt a chill in the air that hadn’t been there before. But then his thrusts deepened even more, his hips moving ever faster as he tensed above her, his hold on her hand strong and tight.

  “Norn!” He stilled above her as he threw back his head, his eyes closed and jaw clenching. Stinging heat filled her even as he pressed his thumb down hard on that intensely sensitive spot, circling fast now, the sensations spiraling until everything around her spun away. The star-and moonbeams blended with the dancing light of the candles as she split apart, losing control, as she sped over the brink into womanhood.

  Slowly, she sank into the soft bed of bear-and wolfskins. Sated, dazed, and wondrously happy, she opened her eyes to see Alasdair stretched out alongside her, the most glorious smile on his handsome face. Braced on an elbow, he reached out to smooth his hand down her side before resting it possessively on her hip. The look on his face, the triumph, chased any feelings of awkwardness that might’ve risen.