Knight in Highland Armor

by Amy Jarecki

  Colin was so exquisitely firm, a far cry from her soft breasts. He moaned at her touch. “Margaret.”

  She snatched her hand away, her gaze darting to his face. But his eyes remained closed. “Colin? Can you hear me?”

  He uttered not a word. Margaret pulled up the bedclothes and tucked them around his shoulders. She too felt a chill, and added some peat to the fire. She moved to the window and pulled the fur aside. The moon sat low on the western horizon, clouds sailing beneath it. Could the moon see Dunalasdair right now? So much had changed since she’d left her home. Were her parents well?

  “Margaret…I…so…”

  She whipped around and dashed to the bed. Colin’s cloth had fallen from his head, but he was still unconscious. She dipped the linen in the basin, and he thrashed his head from side to side. “Margaret.” His voice was louder.

  “I am here.” Margaret touched the cloth to his head. “Easy now. Lie still.” She kept her voice as soft and soothing as possible. His face glowed amber in the candlelight—so gentle in slumber. Licking her lips, she leaned over him and kissed his cheek. She lingered there, the scent of spice filling her every breath. Swallowing, she studied his lips, then kissed them—warm, ever so soft, disappointingly unresponsive.

  “I want to kiss you. Only you, husband. Will you ever let me in?” she whispered.

  His breathing resumed a slow cadence. Wherever his mind was, he had spoken her name. What did that mean?

  Margaret pulled her chair closer to the bed and rested her hand on his shoulder. Her eyelids hung heavily over her eyes, but she fought her urge to sleep. Colin’s steady inhales became hypnotic. She finally gave in and rested her head on the mattress. She’d only close her eyes for a moment to regain her strength. But oh, that mattress had to be the most luxurious collection of goose down she’d ever placed her head upon.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dunstaffnage Castle, 11th November, 1455

  Sugared lavender. Colin awoke to a fragrance so heavenly, he thought he’d died and was attended by angels. However, there was only one person on earth who could smell as sweet—the woman he’d vowed never to allow entwine her lacy ribbons around his heart.

  But she had.

  The devil claim his soul, somehow the green-eyed vixen had inched her talons under his skin. Colin rolled to his side. His head pounded with a fury that churned his gut. Someone pushed into the length of his body and sighed. Headache be damned. He opened his eyes.

  Margaret’s soft bottom nestled against him, brushing his cock oh so suggestively. Colin nuzzled into her mane of chestnut locks and moaned. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, a voice mumbled something disagreeable, but with one more deep inhale of Margaret’s sweet fragrance, the inkling was completely suppressed.

  He slid his hand around the dip in her waist and tugged her closer to his body. The shaft of his cock cradled between her buttocks. Blessed merciful mercy, heaven sent him a gift. If it weren’t for the incredible pounding in his head, he’d swear he was dreaming. Margaret in his bed? How had that happened?

  His cock throbbed and he rocked his hips. He cared not how she ended up beside him. A stone-hard erection consumed his mind. He’d suppressed his desires for so long, it was as if insatiable lust permeated his body. Colin slid his hand to Margaret’s breast, full, round and utterly unbound.

  “Mo leannan,” he whispered the Gaelic endearment only reserved for someone very cherished.

  He lingered, kneading lightly before he teased her nipple through her woolen gown, making it jut proudly against the fabric. A long sigh skimmed through her lips. Colin rose up on his elbow. Still asleep, she shifted her buttocks into him. Christ, her mere friction could make him come.

  Slowly, he slipped his hand down and swirled his fingers around her mons. Margaret moaned louder and arched her back. Colin clenched his bum cheeks and held his cock against her bottom. He closed his eyes, and his head thundered like he’d been bludgeoned. Is that why she’s here? He cast his mind back. The last thing he remembered was Margaret’s startled eyes, her hands clasping over her mouth. William—the overzealous warrior slammed me in the head.

  Margaret moved again. Colin’s balls tightened with a renewed rush of heat. He didn’t care if he’d vowed not to love another. Margaret had no right to be lying beside him rubbing her buttocks along his manhood. Any red-blooded man would lose his mind, attacked by her ungodly, alluring scent and heart-shaped hips that begged to be in his hands.

  Colin grasped her skirts and tugged them up little by little, until his fingers threaded through the downy soft curls at her apex. His cods ached, his cock at the brink of losing his seed.

  He strained for a glimpse of her womanhood, but settled for the smooth porcelain arc of her hip. He closed his eyes and slid a finger between her parting. Blessed be the saints, steamy moisture pooled there, as if she were waiting for him to enter her.

  Margaret moaned and rocked her hips like a seductress. Colin wished he could slip himself between her legs and take her from behind. If it weren’t for the blasted bedclothes separating them, he’d caress her with his sex rather than his finger.

  He circled his hand around the nub of women’s pleasure. Margaret pushed into him and spread her legs slightly. A drop of his seed spilled into the linens. “Margaret?”

  Her leg jerked closed, and Colin ran his arm up across her shoulders to keep her from leaping off the bed. “Let me touch you, wife,” he said with a low growl.

  “You’re awake?” Her voice cracked, and she tried to shrug out of his grasp and tug down her skirts. “I should…”

  He held her tight to his chest. “No, mo leannan,” he purred. “I want you here.”

  She relaxed a bit. “How did I end up on the bed?”

  He brushed his lips along her neck. “Did you not lie beside me?”

  “Nay, the last thing I remember, I was in the chair, allowing my eyes to close for a moment.”

  “Perhaps you climbed up in your sleep.”

  “Perhaps you pulled me.”

  He slid his hand to her flat belly and nibbled at her nape. “It matters not.”

  Margaret again tried to tug out of his arms. “Oh no, you mustn’t. You’ve had a severe blow to your head.”

  He held her fast. “But this makes me feel better.”

  She hesitated. “I would think you’d have a miserable headache.”

  “Smelling your delicious hair, I hardly notice it.”

  She chuckled, a soft, womanly sound that made her entire body vibrate. Colin’s aching cock reminded him of his dire need. But he would do this right or he wouldn’t do it at all.

  “Margaret.” His voice but a whisper. “Relax and let me touch you.”

  ***

  Heaven help her. She’d awakened, legs exposed all the way up to her…her most sacred folds, the place where he’d callously shoved himself on their wedding night. For some unfathomable reason, she was now ablaze with an inexplicable longing, as if her legs had grown a mind of themselves—they wanted to spread for him.

  Every fiber of her being told her to jump off the bed, but each time she tried, Colin pulled her into his hard, warm and very comforting chest. He slid his hand down and smoothed his fingers across her mons. If she were standing, she’d swoon. Then a chill ran through her blood. Did he intend to make her do that again?

  Margaret bolted from his grasp and sat upright. “My lord. I may not be well schooled in these things, but I believe the proper way to make love to a woman is to kiss her, not…ah…what you were just doing.”

  A devilish grin stretched Colin’s lips, and his eyes grew dark. “You want me to kiss you, wife?” He reached for her hand and tugged. “Come here.”

  Margaret hesitated. He didn’t release his grip, but didn’t force her, either. “You won’t hurt me?”

  With his free hand, he pushed away the bedclothes and bared his chest. “I promise I shall never hurt you again.”

  Her eyes drank in the banded muscles across
his chest. A swarm of fluttering butterflies blossomed in her breast. How much she’d wanted him to show her tenderness. Oh yes, yes, yes, she wanted another kiss, just like the one in the bath. She hovered over him and gazed into his brown eyes. No longer reflecting the hard, coarse Highlander, they sparkled with a kindness she’d never seen before. Had the blow to his head knocked some sensibilities into him?

  He licked his full lips and slid his hand around the back of her neck, enticing her to his mouth. Masculine lips met hers softly. She inhaled. He smelled of rugged male and sweetness combined. Delicious.

  His tongue flicked out and tapped her lips. With one more gentle tug, he covered her mouth and closed his eyes, his deep groan filling her as if she could breathe in his desire. Margaret’s heartbeat raced. She couldn’t understand why the deep flame inside her body burned for him with unbridled passion, but if he turned tail right now, she’d die.

  He inched his rough warrior hands down her spine. Her entire body trembled.

  Without pulling her lips away, she kneeled astride him and smoothed her hands across his naked, rock-hard chest. His nipples grew erect to her touch, increasing the heavy longing in her own breasts. She pushed up and studied each rosy bud, tickling them with her fingers. “The tips are like mine.”

  A deep chuckle rumbled from Colin’s throat. He moved his hands to her hips and guided her back a bit, atop his thick column of flesh. He was hard as a bedpost. Something clamped deep inside her loins with a driving, almost painful need for him to touch her. Beneath the bedclothes, he moved against her in a long, deliberate rocking motion. Margaret’s eyes rolled back as her womanhood desperately craved for more.

  This was nothing like their wedding night. His hands smoothed up the front of her bodice and kneaded her breasts, ripe and swollen with their desire for his touch. Oh yes. Heaven help her, this was sinfully magical.

  He tugged up her skirts.

  Margaret froze. Her eyes flashed open. She crossed her arms over her chest. Everything was so heavenly with the barrier of cloth between them. She didn’t want the sensual passion to end.

  “Lift your arms for me.” His deep voice resonated and flowed like sweet cream.

  She bit her lip. Oh how she desired more of his touch. Yes. He’d already seen her naked and hadn’t hurt her then.

  She met his gaze, filled with longing. Her breath stuttered. Slowly she raised her arms and let him remove her gown and then her shift. Completely bare, she continued to straddle him. Through the bedclothes, his manhood filled her crux. Driven by need, she thrust her hips and rode him until her body screamed “more.”

  Somehow, this wasn’t enough. She must dare to be bold. “Now you.” She moved aside.

  Colin chuckled and pulled the bedclothes away. He slid his hand down and unclasped his belt. Casting it aside, he lifted his hips slightly and tugged the plaid off, dropping it to the floor. She stared at him. Tight heat pooled in her womb—her longing so intense, it hurt. Margaret could no longer remember the pain caused when he entered her on their wedding night. She craved to try it again. A flicker in the back of her mind reminded her of a fleeting moment of pleasure. Could she grasp the stirring again and make it last?

  Colin wrapped his fingers around his member and stroked. “It cannot hurt you again. Never like the first time.”

  Alas, he understood her fears. Mouth parted, she watched him stroke himself, her own longing torturing until the insides of her thighs quavered.

  Colin placed his palm between her shoulder blades and gently laid her down. Hovering over her, his lips moved intoxicatingly closer until they caressed hers. Licking her lips open, his tongue filled her mouth and kissed her fully. Prone, she allowed him to trail his deft fingers down her naked body. His mouth covered her heaving breast. Margaret arched her back and cried out as his fingers slipped into her womanhood. Every fiber of her being ached for more. She moved against his blessed touch, the tension mounting, her drive pushing her to some unknown brink of insane bliss.

  Colin moved between her legs and kneeled. His eyes flashed with his rapturous grin. “I want to take you to a place you’ve never been.” He dipped his chin, staring at her womanhood, his face only inches from her sex.

  Was he going to kiss her there? She tried to close her legs, but met with hard shoulders. “Colin. You mustn’t.” She could scarcely utter the words, her body so inexplicably aroused.

  “Close your eyes and give into the most erotic kiss of all.”

  Margaret dropped her head to the pillow and tried to breathe.

  When his warm tongue caressed her flesh, a high-pitched gasp came from the depths of her soul. He licked again and turned everything molten. He claimed her mind—sensations curled through her body with a wave of unbridled, searing heat.

  Powerless to flee, Margaret circled her hips in rhythm with his deftly relentless tongue. Every sinew in her body went rigid, driven by her insatiable need for more. She bucked harder—strange whimpers erupted from her throat. Suddenly, the crest of the wave unfolded like surmounting the top of the highest peak in the Highlands. With a cry, her insides burst into pulsing euphoria.

  When Margaret finally opened her eyes, Colin smiled at her with the most devilish grin she’d ever seen in her life. “I want you to come again.”

  “Come?”

  “Reach your woman’s pleasure.”

  She chuckled. She could do that again? But this time when he ran the pad of his thumb across her sensitive spot, he showered her skin with kisses until her hips again rocked with desire. He rose to his knees and handled his erect member. “I want to make love to you.”

  Margaret didn’t understand it, but her loins craved to have him insert his manhood inside her. She wanted to feel him fill her and slide in and out, as he’d done with his fingers. She nodded.

  Colin guided it toward her. Margaret gritted her teeth and tensed, ready for the pinch. But he held the head just inside. “Am I hurting you?”

  “Nay.” Her voice breathlessly trembled.

  Staring into her eyes, he slowly inched inside until he hit a spot that made her moan.

  “I’ve filled you, m’lady.”

  Margaret moved her hips, straining to rub that spot again. He withdrew, then slid back with more ease—pleasuring her more than she’d ever dreamed possible. She grasped his back, then boldly slid her hands to his buttocks and showed him she wanted more friction. Colin thrust faster. “That’s it, lass, you command the tempo.”

  He let her take the lead until she sank her nails into him, trying to force him deeper and deeper. The driving longing came again. If he stopped, she’d shatter. She cried out and whimpered, reaching her peak. Colin sped, sliding his manhood in and out. His entire body tensed and shook with a deep, bellowing roar.

  He collapsed over her, breathing deeply as if he’d just returned from a rousing spar. Taking his weight on his elbows, he nuzzled through her hair and peppered her neck with kisses. “Mo leannan. You are sweeter than honey to a black-hearted knight.”

  Margaret closed her eyes and ran her fingers along the hardened flesh of his back. If only this moment would never end.

  “I’ve been so unbelievably wrong, wrapped up in the agony of grief.” He brushed his lips over her mouth. Closing his eyes, he tasted her again, their tongues dancing in glorious harmony. Colin tapped his forehead to hers. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met.” He kissed her cheek and then the other. “Was it good for you, wife?”

  “Aye.” A single syllable was all Margaret could utter as she savored him, all of him. She held him close, filled with euphoria. At last, they had truly become man and wife.

  After kissing her temple, he rolled to his side and clasped his hand to his crown. “Och, my head hurts.”

  She gasped. How on earth had she allowed him to be so vigorous? I’m such a muttonhead. Margaret sat upright. “My stars, Colin. You could have torn your stitches with all that liveliness, or worse.”

  She stood and pulled her shift over her
head. “Do you need some poppy juice? Some willow bark tea? You must be famished.”

  Colin reached for her hand and pulled her back onto the bed. “We’ll worry about breaking our fast later. Rest beside me for a moment. ’Tis far more comfort than a bowl of porridge and a cup of mead.”

  ***

  Colin never cared to lie abed, but this day it had become a pleasant enjoyment watching Margaret take charge and dutifully dispatch everyone who happened by. Effie and every single one of Colin’s inner circle of loyal men paid their respects. Astonishing. Margaret set each person to task. She worded her orders with such fineness, everyone willingly acquiesced to her wishes. The first being William, who was instructed to ensure every man, woman and child on the castle grounds was aware Lord Glenorchy was well, eating and spending the day at his leisure—Colin would hear supplications in the great hall on the morrow.

  She’d set Maxwell to task, asking him to send a missive to the MacGregors inviting them to Duncan’s christening, which she’d abruptly decided would take place in three sennights time. Ah yes, she dispatched Fionn to notify the priest.

  Margaret turned and grinned at Colin with Duncan in her arms—Effie had been directed to enjoy some fresh air while Margaret cared for the babe. She missed not a step, carrying him around on her hip, setting things to rights. How could he have been so wrong about her?

  Finally, she returned to the bed and sat. She held Duncan out. “I think this should be a family day, since you’re abed and yesterday was the bairn’s first smile.”

  “You don’t say?” Colin smoothed his hand over Duncan’s black locks. “Do you have a smile for your da, laddie?”

  The babe scrunched up his face and launched into an earsplitting wail. For a moment it reminded him of the horrible night he spent wallowing in the depths of despair, listening to Duncan’s cries echo down the passageway. But Margaret swept him from Colin’s arms and put her little finger in the babe’s mouth.

  Instantly, Duncan started suckling, quite content to be held to her breast. She smiled down at the bairn and slowly withdrew her finger. “There, there. Have you got a smile for me?” She emitted the cutest high-pitched laugh Colin had ever heard. Duncan gave her a huge, gummy grin. She giggled again and tickled his tummy. “You smiled, yes you did, you sweet little laddie.” Margaret shifted her gaze to Colin. “Did you see him?”