Highlander's Touch: Medieval Romance

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “Aye, with every inch of my body.” She smiled, kissed the tip of his nose.

  “You show it in strange ways.” He kissed her cheeks then nipped her lower lip. “I want to see you come again. ’Tis most addictive watching you soar at my hand.”

  “You’re a naughty man, yet I intend on being naughty too.” Hands shoved to his chest, she pushed him onto his back, then crawled in over top of him and straddled his hips. Arms stretched high and her glorious mane of red hair swaying forward over her lush breasts, she wriggled against his groin, her slit rubbing along the base of his cock wedged firmly between them. “Oh, this feels sooo delicious. ’Tis the perfect way to awaken each morn.”

  “You’re giving me the most wicked thoughts.” With her breasts swaying heavy and full, he cupped them in his palms and longed to give them the attention they so deserved. “Lean forward. I want your tasty nipples in my mouth.”

  “I think no’.” She squirmed back, her move denying him what he wanted as she positioned herself on her belly between his legs, her breasts resting softly either side of his inner thighs.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m about to make certain you never forget me, that I haunt your dreams for every night that is to come.” She slid her hand around his cock, leaned forward and licked him from root to tip, her tongue swirling over the head and along his slit.

  He groaned, all throaty and rough.

  If his woman took him fully in her mouth and pleasured him in this way, he’d most definitely suffer a haunting in his dreams. “Are you certain you wish to do this?”

  “I more than wish it.” Peeking through her long sooty lashes tinged with red, she raised a brow. “Do you think me a wanton woman?”

  “Aye, but you’re my wanton woman, and I would have you no other way.”

  “Good.” Her tongue slipped out again and after one long, mind-shattering lick of his shaft, she took his cock in her mouth, her rosy lips suctioning around him.

  Gripping the sheets either side of him, he held on for dear life as she loved him with her mouth alone, her fingers caressing his balls, her touch so exquisitely soft and making them tighten and pull up. With her eyes closed, she bobbed up and down over him so wickedly. “Halt, please halt.”

  She sucked harder and oh hell, his mind went black with lust as she brought him to the brink of his control. Nay, he wouldn’t seek his pleasure again until he’d swamped her in her own. Aye, when he soared into paradise, it would be with her.

  Hands on her waist, he lifted her up and over his body then covered her mouth with his, the pressure of her lips sublime and the sensation of her tongue dueling with his beyond perfect. Her mouth had been made for kissing.

  He drowned in the dark pool of desire she weaved around him, her soft curves molding to his body, her sweet femininity a perfect balance to his own harder angles. Then she gave even more of herself and overwhelmed his senses, her lips soft and coaxing one moment, then demanding and determined the next. He wanted to wake each morning with her kissing him in this exact way, to fit their bodies together as lovers did until rapture overtook them both.

  Groaning, he drew her even more fully against him, the hard tips of her breasts rubbing against his chest and her hips rocking against his hips. He stroked down her back and over her bottom, until a fierce pressure built in his spine and sizzled around to the front. Closer. He needed to get even closer.

  “Coll.” She melted into him, their kiss intensifying, becoming more ravaging and insistent as she gave all of herself to him.

  “I’m right here.” He probed and plundered her mouth with each stroke of his tongue. Deeper, he moved, until his heart thundered a powerful beat against her heartbeat. Aye, only she could ever make him feel so complete with a simple kiss alone.

  “Need to come.” She rocked over top of him.

  “Let go whenever you please. I’ll be right here with you.” Raw yearning took over and with a fierceness that demanded satisfaction, he angled his mouth more fully against hers, sank ever deeper into their kiss while she grasped his shoulders and moaned into his mouth.

  Hands on her bottom, he spread her legs wider with his legs, until her lower folds rubbed against his cock wedged between them. Sliding her wet slit along his length without spearing himself inside her, he gave her all the pressure she needed, that he needed too. Hell, naught had ever felt so good. Sharp tingles speared up his shaft until he could no longer hold on.

  “Now, Coll.” Back arched and her breath hitching, she came and he exploded right along with her, his essence coating their bellies pressed together. She shuddered in his arms and he soared into heaven.

  * * * *

  Fiona floated in a daze as the last ebb of her pleasure faded away. Coll lay sated underneath her, an extremely satisfied grin on his face, one she’d put there and naught could have made her happier. “We should kiss more often,” she whispered against his lips.

  “I never knew kissing you could be so earth-shattering.”

  “Yet also messy earth-shattering.” She rolled off him and slumped on her back at his side, pressed one hand to his seed smeared across her belly and giggled. “We need to bathe.”

  “I’ll order the tub to be filled and a meal provided.” He heaved out of bed and she wanted only to grab him and pull him back.

  “You dinnae need to move so fast.”

  “If I dare stay in bed with you a moment longer, I’ll be back to kissing you and ravaging you all over again.”

  “That sounds divine.” She shuffled onto her side and grinned as he crouched naked before the remains of the fire, his biceps and back muscles rippling as he tore bark from a log and stuck the bits into the glowing embers. Blowing warm air onto the cinders, he worked the fire once more into roaring life and tossed a log over top. “You have a nice backside, my stubborn one.”

  “So do you, my fiery empath.” With a mischievous wink, he sauntered across to the window and opened the blue drapes. Over his shoulder, the dawn sun hovered on the horizon and with those tight buttocks of his clenching even tighter, she admired the sweet view he offered.

  She memorized the moment and softly sighed. Never would she forget this special time with him. “Could you bring me a wet cloth, please?”

  “Of course.” He strolled to the side table, dipped a cloth into the basin of water and cleaned his belly and cock before dunking the cloth again. He wrung it, drips splashing into the basin then sauntered toward her, the glint of desire in his eyes clear to see. “I’m going to wipe you clean.”

  “Nay, I intend to do that.” She squirmed back.

  “Wrong answer.” He nabbed her ankles, pulled her back down the bed and spread her legs. With a wicked grin, he gently wiped her below then swept the cloth across her belly, which rumbled with hunger as he did.

  “Ignore that.”

  “I’m done ignoring your needs, all of them, of which feeding you now comes first.” Chuckling, he lobbed the cloth toward the basin where it landed with a splash then scooped up her bag and set it on the bed. He pulled out a clean shift and tugged it over her head.

  “Aye, well, I am most certainly famished, wouldnae mind finding my basket which I left behind in Mary’s room. There are treats aplenty within it.”

  “I’ll go and fetch it after I gather us a tray from one of the maids.” He pulled on a clean white tunic and donned his great plaid at his waist, laced his boots, strapped his weapons in place and strode to the door, his black hair mussed and dark stubble shadowing his jaw. “I’ll ensure hot water is ordered for our bath. Dinnae move, no’ an inch. I shall no’ be long.”

  “Now I truly do feel like a wicked wench awaiting the return of her lover.”

  “You are more than my lover, Fiona.”

  “Aye, I’m a dear friend too.” An admission she’d dearly love to forget he’d mentioned.

  “Stay here.” A murmured answer as the door clicked shut behind him, his footsteps drifting away down the passageway.

 
Under her breath, she whispered back, “You’re far more than my lover, Coll MacKenzie. You are my mate, whether you wish to admit it or no’.”

  Beyond the window, the thundering of horses’ hooves pounded toward her and she snuck out of bed and tiptoed to the sill. Pushing the window wide, she leaned over the edge. Below in the tavern’s inner courtyard surrounded by leafy elm trees, a score of riders galloped in and hauled their mounts to a stop near the stables.

  The warrior at their party’s head leaped from his war horse, his brown beard flecked with gray and his unmistakable MacRae plaid fastened around his waist and hooked over one shoulder. A thick brown leather vest flapped loose over his tunic. She’d seen him once before, when he’d visited Duncan and Ella at Ardan House during one of her own visits there two months’ past. The emblem engraved on the pin of his plaid at his waist held the MacRae clan chief’s arms. He was the Chief of MacRae, John MacRae. One of his sons had even wed a lass from the fae village and she’d given birth to a child who held an intensely strong fae ability, that of the “power of thought.” The MacRae’s son had brought his wife and child to Ardan to see the seer and his sister, to ensure the young lad received the necessary training in his burgeoning skill. She’d even witnessed what the lad could do.

  John MacRae strode toward a young woman mounted on the horse behind him. The lass’s rich auburn hair, so similar in color to her own red locks, fluttered down her back. She must be Elizabeth, although this lass she’d never met.

  In an emerald woolen riding habit, she smiled at her chief. “Why must we stop now, Father. We’re almost at Carron Castle. I wish to see my betrothed.”

  “I’ll send a rider ahead and inform Coll of our coming arrival. We’re expected, although you might like to freshen up first afore we complete the last leg of our journey. We’ll partake of a meal and continue on once we have.” He hoisted the lass down from atop her horse and she kissed her father’s cheek affectionately, her love for him clear to see in her eyes.

  Soon that love would be gifted to her mate, and that realization sank in bone deep and heart-wrenchingly hard.

  The young woman pulled her brown fur cloak tighter about her to ward off the chilly morning air, her nose and cheeks glowing a healthy shade of pink and her breath puffing in a fog from her mouth.

  The last thing she wished to do was witness the lass fawning over Coll when she discovered him downstairs. She pulled the drapes closed, her chest so heavy and her very soul tearing in two. Mayhap she shouldn’t have allowed Coll’s touch this morn, only he’d been impossible to turn away from, and the memories from their time together would be ones she’d always treasure.

  Aye, her future was once again set, and unfortunately it still wasn’t with Coll. The Isle of Iona beckoned, as well as the high walls of the abbey where she’d seek refuge and mayhap eventually find some healing for her own heart.

  She unfolded her royal blue gown from her satchel and shimmied the soft velvet over her head then with the long sleeves draping over her wrists, added her favorite golden tasseled girdle before lacing her riding boots on. With her red gown gifted from Coll tucked safely away in her bag, she fastened her fur-lined black cloak over her shoulders and with all her belongings in hand, opened the door.

  Carefully, she checked each direction of the passageway, the doors leading off each side closed and only the small window at the end of the hallway allowing light to filter through. All remained clear. She snuck downstairs, ducked into the darkened alcove under the stairwell and peeked into the main room.

  The MacRae’s warriors, a good score of them, had all entered and taken seats at the tables, while Mary and another two serving maids weaved around the men and passed them bowls of steaming oats and tankards of ale. She searched amongst the warriors and found Coll standing near the fireplace with Elizabeth and her father. His biceps bulged as he slid one thumb under his sword’s leather strap at his waist, the hilt of his blade gleaming.

  “We didnae expect to find you here rather than at your keep.” Elizabeth batted her long lashes at him, which made her belly heave with distaste.

  “I didnae expect to see you here either. Come and sit. We’ll break our fast together.” With one sweeping gesture, Coll motioned for Elizabeth and her father to sit and the three of them took their places at a table.

  Aye, Coll now wished to break his fast with his betrothed rather than with her. She slid back out of sight into the nook, tears welling in her eyes and blinding her.

  He’d told her countless times that he believed no bond existed between them.

  For him it clearly didn’t, even though it did for her.

  Their bond would be one that now never saw completion.

  She dragged in a stuttered breath.

  She’d promised him she wouldn’t beg him to change his mind yet again. He had no more to fear from her.

  ’Twas time to leave.

  * * * *

  Coll gritted his teeth as he sat next to Elizabeth. All he wanted to do was stride back upstairs and claim his—he shook his head. Ah hell. Who was he kidding? Fiona was far more than a dear friend, and his time with her this morn had proven that to him beyond a doubt. She was his, just as he was hers. Never could he lie with this woman seated beside him. Making love with Elizabeth made him shudder with disgust.

  His heart and soul belonged to the girl who’d once sat upon a ledge under a waterfall with him, their feet dangling into the pool and the sunlight playing through the sheet of water and sending pretty beams of light shimmering over her. She’d been the only one to consume his every thought since, and no matter he’d ridden away from her sixteen months ago and allowed her to wed Matthew, he’d only done so knowing theirs would be a marriage in name only.

  Aye, over the years, he’d lived and breathed for her, and for the past two days, he’d been chasing her across the Highlands because she held the other half of his soul and he could be nowhere else but with her. Cherub had even appeared before her, decreed they were soul bound, and the seer, Hamish, had all but said the same as well in the words he’d imparted to Ella of his vision. How much more evidence did he need? It was only his thick head and unbending honor getting in his way from accepting his true future. One with Fiona, his soul bound mate and chosen one.

  He couldn’t lose her again, not even for the sake of his own clan. Aye, he’d certainly do all he could once he’d broken his betrothal with Elizabeth to mend the discord he’d soon cause between him and the MacRae, but the chief of their allied clan had always had a fairly reasonable head on his shoulders. The man’s son had even wed a lass of fae blood, and his wee grandson had recently come into his own fae skill, that of the “power of thought.” The MacRae understood soul bonds, and hopefully he’d understand that one had formed between him and Fiona as well.

  “What brought you to this inn?” Elizabeth cleared her throat from beside him, her cheeks flushed as she pressed a hand to her chest. “My apologies. I dinnae mean to pry, but we surely didnae expect to find you here.”

  “An errand.” He accepted a bowl of oats from the maid and thanked her.

  “That errand is now done?” She smiled so prettily and he tried heartedly hard not to scowl.

  ‘Nay, that errand will fill my days and nights for what I hope is the rest of my life.” As soon as he’d spoken to John MacRae, he’d find Fiona, get down on one knee and apologize to her profusely. He’d do whatever it took to gain her forgiveness, because he surely couldn’t live without her a moment longer.

  “Pardon?” Eyes wide, Elizabeth frowned at him.

  He had a great deal of apologizing to do, to this lass as well. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. It would pay for him to have this conversation with her father first.

  “My daughter,” the MacRae said from across the table with his brows drawn together in deep lines, “will make you a fine wife, Coll. Strengthening the allied bonds between our clans is essential.”

  “I agree, John. We need to strengthen ou
r allied bonds, but we may need to look at other ways in which we might do so.”

  “What other ways are you speaking of?” The MacRae slammed his palms down on the table and rattled the legs.

  “I hope I’m no’ imposing.” Ella stepped in beside him, her cream shirt tucked into her black breeches and her brown hair pulled back into a braid and secured with a lacy ribbon. She squeezed his shoulder. “I caught sight of the MacRae’s party arriving from my chamber window. Duncan will join us in but a moment.”

  “Ella, meet Elizabeth and her father, John MacRae.” He motioned to them. “This is Ella, my brother’s wife and a fae compeller from the Matheson village.”

  “’Tis lovely to meet you.” Elizabeth beamed wide and laid her hand daintily on his arm as she answered Ella. “My brother’s wife is from your village too, and their wee son has recently come into his skill, that of the ‘power of thought.’”

  “Duncan has spoken of the lad.” Ella nodded at her. “Although I’ve only recently arrived at Ardan myself and missed meeting your kin while they stayed there during the time the boy trained with our seer and his sister.”

  “Speaking of the fae.” Coll shoved to his feet, startled Elizabeth as he did but without time to apologize, he grasped Ella’s hand. “I need a favor. Could you go and sit with Fiona, our fae empath, while I speak to John. It appears Cherub was right, and now I’m well aware of it. Dinnae let her out of your sight. She’s in my chamber.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, and tell her I willnae be long.”

  “I certainly shall.” Smiling wide, Ella pranced out of the main room and fairly skipped up the stairs.

  “You have a woman called Fiona in your chamber?” With a rumbling growl, John stood, the white lines around his mouth pinching tight as he narrowed his gaze. “Explain yourself, Coll.”

  “For this coming conversation, we need to speak in private.” He gestured toward the passageway. “The innkeeper keeps a private antechamber available for those who need to use it down the hallway.”