Seized By The Highlander (Scottish Highlander Romance)

by Kaley McCormick

  “I’m sorry, it has been a while.”

  “Sorry? It did not hurt that much.”

  He laughed and shifted off of her, onto the bed next to her. “I hope you will come to understand my comment better.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his body heat. They drifted off to sleep as Victoria wondered what all the fuss was about.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning, they rose and dressed to join their families for breakfast in the dining hall.

  Lydia kissed her daughter on the cheek, and whispered, “My little girl is a woman now.”

  Victoria blushed, realizing in an instant that the entire household knew what she and Dylan had done the previous night.

  After a quick breakfast, Andrew and Lydia and their own staff packed up and said their goodbyes. Victoria was cold and distant to her father but embraced her mother roughly. Lydia brushed away tears from her daughter’s eyes and climbed into the carriage. Victoria turned back and went into the castle so that she did not have to watch them drive off the property.

  Dylan followed her back inside, and up to their room.

  “What would you like to do today, Mrs. Walker?”

  She smiled up at him and twisted her hands in her lap as she perched on the edge of one of the chairs.

  Dylan knelt in front of her, “Anything you ask, I shall make it so.”

  Her cheeks flushed dark pink and she avoided looking into his penetrating blue eyes.

  He caught her chin with a finger and pulled her face up towards his. “What is it?”

  “I should like to do what we did last night,” she said so softly that he could barely hear.

  “What was that?”

  “I should like to do what we did last night,” she repeated.

  He grinned at her, “Now that request I can manage.”

  She could not explain why she wanted to be with him again, only that she liked the heat he created inside her and she wanted to feel it again. She wanted to feel his hands again, and to be near him.

  He pulled her up from the chair and made quicker work of her house dress than the fancy wedding gown. His clothes seemed to dissolve off of his body and he swept her up and to the bed.

  “Please? Could we do it longer though?” she asked quietly.

  He laughed, “I said I was sorry.”

  His hand covered her belly as he bent his mouth to her exposed breast. She giggled softly when his beard tickled her delicate skin but her giggle dissolved into a gasp when his mouth closed over her taut nipple. It tingled throughout her entire body as his tongue traced circles on her skin while his beard still tickled. She squirmed and felt his hand drift further down her stomach.

  His fingers grazed her thigh and she squirmed again. He kissed and nibbled her neck, shushing her softly. She tried to hold still as his hands and lips explored her skin, but it tingled and tickled and she could not stop herself from responding.

  Finally, his fingers dipped down between her legs and she gasped as fire seemed to leap from her groin to her fingers and toes.

  “Shh, shh, shh,” he murmured against her neck. “It’s okay.”

  As much as he wanted to drive himself back into her tight warm body, he also wanted to show her that she could enjoy their union too. He had to brace himself and exert every bit of his self-control to take his time.

  His fingers teased and tickled her most private parts until she was gasping and writhing.

  “Dylan… what are you doing?”

  Victoria was baffled by the feelings that overwhelmed her senses. During the entire journey to Scotland, her mother and Abigail had tried to instruct and warn her about marital relations, but neither of them had ever mentioned that it would feel like this.

  “I’m taking care of you,” he smiled down at her confused and flushed face.

  “Of me? I thought, I thought it was supposed to be a, um, wifely duty to be with her husband.”

  He chuckled softly, “It is, so to speak, but there’s no reason it can’t be enjoyable for you as well.”

  “Ohhh…” she breathed softly.

  His fingers kept circling and rubbing, and the tingles got stronger. Her fingers clenched the sheet underneath them. The heat in her body had collected into her lower stomach and she thought it was going to burn her. Suddenly it all popped inside her, like the logs in a fireplace and she looked at Dylan with a mixture of surprise and pleasure on her face. Her back arched and he felt her muscles kiss his fingers as she gasped his name.

  He could not wait any longer and in one motion, he climbed on top of her and entered her slowly but firmly. She moaned softly and wrapped her hands around his neck. He looked down at her delicate face, illuminated by the fire in the fireplace and by a light from inside, and he kissed his bride. Her full pink lips parted for his tongue just as her body welcomed his cock.

  She felt so warm and slippery and tight around him that once again, he could not last and within a few strokes found himself releasing inside her with a low deep grunt. After he collapsed on top of her, she held him close to her body and tried to catch her breath.

  “Dylan, I could get used to this,” she murmured quietly into his ear.

  Her warm breath tickled and tempted his hips to keep moving, but he willed them to be still. He slid to one side and cupped her body into his, pulling the blanket back over them.

  “What would you like to do with the rest of your day?” he grinned down at her.

  She reached up and delicately brushed a stray curl from his forehead.

  “You tell me, my husband.”

  He rested his head next to hers on the pillow, and exhaled slowly.

  “Nothing but this.”

  Chapter Eight

  Over the next few weeks, winter crept up on the house, and the clansmen saw very little of Dylan or Victoria. They laughed at their own raunchy jokes about the newlyweds, but did not begrudge Dylan one moment of happiness or pleasure. The tiny blonde woman, when she did join them for meals or evening chats, had turned out to be quite the lively addition to the family, and had been accepted genuinely.

  One evening, the family was gathered by the large fireplace in the dining hall after dinner when Dylan and Victoria strolled into the room.

  “Aye, taking a break, are we?”

  Dylan smirked in the speaker’s direction, “You should be so lucky as to find a bride as enthusiastic.”

  Victoria laughed along with the crowd, growing more accustomed to their off-color jokes, and learning to like their easy banter and welcoming warmth.

  “My husband made me hungry, that’s all,” she taunted back.

  The house servant in the corner of the room scurried off to make two plates for the estate owner and his wife. She returned quickly with bowls of potato soup and plates of smoked ham and sliced cheese.

  The men chuckled as Victoria inhaled the food, “This girl will eat us into the poorhouse, my good fellow.”

  “I like a girl with an appetite, as long as the appetite always includes me.”

  Dylan pulled Victoria on top his lap and roughly kissed her lips, eliciting a moan only he could hear. And despite their lovemaking from just an hour ago, he felt that stirring in his groin that she seemed to relish. Under the cover of her skirts, she wriggled her hips a little against him and he nipped her lower lip between his teeth.

  She knew exactly what they would be doing back in their bedroom shortly, but first she wanted to enjoy the company of her new family. Two of the men nudged each other, and one dashed off only to return with a platter full of tiny cups brimming with amber liquid.

  “Time to show her what being a Scot is really about,” they grinned at the group conspiratorially.

  She eyed the platter suspiciously but looked to her husband, who was chuckling along with the group.

  Each person received their own tiny cup and as Victoria sniffed hers, she sneezed. The group laughed and Dylan patted her knee as she stayed on his lap. The men gulped the l
iquid down all in one swallow, but Dylan urged her to just sip it.

  Victoria took a small sip and coughed loudly as the liquid burned her throat.

  “You Scots are trying to kill me!” she wheezed.

  The group fell about themselves laughing and slapping Dylan’s shoulders.

  “That’s some good Scotch,” Dylan laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Try exhaling before you sip.”

  She tried once more, convinced her husband was in on the murder plot, but she exhaled as she sipped and it was a much different experience. This time, the heat warmed her throat and filled her belly and she beamed proudly at the group.

  “That’sa girl,” Dylan grinned, sliding his arm around her slim waist.

  After about a third of her glass was gone, she looked up to find the room spinning and the fire seemed to be expanding out of the hearth.

  “I think I’ve had enough,” she whispered loudly into Dylan’s ear.

  “That’s my cue, boys,” he crowed and scooped his wife up in his arms. “See you in the morning!”

  As he strode up the staircase with his tipsy wife in his arms, he bent down and kissed her firmly. She sighed softly and leaned into his embrace.

  “Dylan? Can we again?”

  He kissed her harder in response and quickened his steps to their bedroom.

  Their clothing came off in a flurry of cotton and they both snuggled under the quilt quickly. Dylan’s hands roamed freely over her skin and she arched towards his body. The heat from the Scotch already made her body warm from the inside, and his rough hands only enflamed her desire.

  In her tipsiness, she offered a confession to Dylan. “I was scared to come marry you, you know.”

  His teeth nipped her neck as his fingers teased her tight rosebud nipples.

  “Scared of little ol’ me?” he chuckled as he raked his nails lightly down her tummy.

  “You aren’t little at all, you’re enormoush!” she proclaimed, slurring slightly.

  “What every man has always longed to hear,” he basked in her unintended compliment.

  In one smooth motion, Dylan lay down on his back and pulled his beautiful naked wife on top of him. She braced her palms against his broad chest and sat up to look down at him.

  “We can do it like this?” Her voice was husky as she winked at him.

  “I’ll show you...”

  He reached up to cover her full breasts with his palms, and slid his hands down over her waist to rest on her hips. He carefully guided her up into the air slightly, and then with a shift of his hips, he brought her back down on top of him.

  As her body slid down to envelop his hard cock, she gasped and moaned, letting her head fall back and her eyes drift closed. He held her down against himself and drove his hips up. Her body fit him like a velvet glove and he slid himself back out only to hurry back in. Over and over, his arm muscles twitched as he guided her petite frame up and down his cock until she let out a long low wail and shuddered on top of him. He grunted deep in his chest and released into her. She could feel each twitch and spurt and her own body seemed to absorb each motion and every drop.

  She finally collapsed on top of him, panting for breath and grinning in the dark.

  “The rest of my life? Right here?”

  “If you can handle it…” he smiled into her unruly blonde curls.

  He cradled her next to his warm body as they drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  As it always does, eventually the spring sunshine chased away the winter’s snow and cold and gloom. Victoria reveled in the Scottish countryside as it started to turn green and the little blossoms popped out on the trees and bushes.

  Abigail was more and more attentive, and Victoria was becoming annoyed. She was starting to feel like the petulant little girl that she had finally left behind. Have you written your parents? It was the same conversation every time. Not yet, there will be time, and I will see them beforehand.

  Dylan spent his evenings parading around the dining hall, virtually patting himself on the back. Victoria would simply roll her eyes and reach for another piece of bread. She knew that eventually her father would make his way to Dylan’s castle to discuss the spring and summer trade, and she hoped her mother would join him on the trip.

  By mid-April, the vegetable garden was well underway and the fields seemed thick with tiny baby lambs. Victoria loved to put on her oldest house dress and chase them through the meadows until Abigail hollered for her to stop.

  One morning, Victoria was getting ready in her room and Dylan stopped by after checking something with the horses.

  She sat at her vanity, her dressing gown clinging to her damp body and her blonde hair hanging in a wet curtain down her back.

  “Excuse us,” he muttered gruffly to Abigail.

  She rolled her eyes and left the room in a huff.

  “Better and better each time I see you,” he murmured against her neck.

  Victoria giggled, “When do we have to stop?”

  “Never!” he crowed.

  She took his large hands and rested them on her swollen belly.

  “We’ll have to stop sometime. You’ll dent his head with the way you take me.”

  He slid his hands up to her ripe breasts and groaned softly.

  “Sometime, but not today.”

  An hour later, Victoria was still not dressed and now her freshly washed hair was a frightful mess but her cheeks glowed a happy pink.

  “Dylan, I look like a vagabond! My parents will be here by supper!”

  He sat her up in front of him and leaned over to pick up her silver hair brush. Softly and gently, he started combing it down her back until it fell into the soft waves that ticked his bare chest.

  “Now Abigail can fix it up,” he smiled down at her face as she turned to wink at him.

  Abigail returned when Dylan left and was able to braid Victoria’s hair down her back with relative ease.

  While Dylan headed downstairs to meet the arriving caravan, Abigail helped Victoria dress for seeing her parents. As Victoria rested in one of the large chairs with her eyes closed, she heard a loud gasp from the doorway.

  When she opened her eyes and looked, her mother Lydia was rushing towards her as she struggled to stand.

  “Oh m’dear! Look at you! I had no idea!”

  Victoria beamed, “We just kept trying and trying, and it finally worked.”

  Lydia’s cheeks flushed pink and she giggled.

  When Victoria and her mother strolled down the staircase, Andrew looked up with a start at his swollen expectant daughter.

  “Someday, father dear, your estate will all be owned by this proud Scotsman here,” she pronounced proudly as she patted her tummy.

  THE END

  My Sinful Surrender to a Highlander Werewolf

  Carden crawled through the woods sniffing at the air, he could still smell the smoke from the night before. It had been a long night for him and his clan the army of Sven had attacked a small village burning the small shacks to the ground and taking everything that remained.

  It all started when the Kingdom of Berigord was taken over by Sven the Conqueror, the Kigom’s did not want Sven’s kingdom to grow and had hired Carden’s werewolf clan to take Sven’s daughter Zuzella in an effort to force him to stop destroying the villages. The King had continued to press further into the Kingdom of Kigom and their king was not willing to be conquered.

  Even though the King of Kigom knew his army could not defeat Sven’s he knew that the werewolf clan was willing to work as mercenaries and would do whatever it took to get the job done. The King also knew how much Sven valued his daughter and that if she were missing Sven’s focus would no longer be about conquering but on finding her instead.

  The King had called on Carden and his clan to complete the mission and it had been accepted. The werewolf clan wanted no part of Sven’s kingdom. They knew that he looked at them as nothing more than filthy animals and was determined to eradicate them f
rom the face of the planet. Even though Sven knew it would be hard as he had not yet figured out how to kill the Highlanders, he did not want them breeding with his kind and he did not want them in his cities.

  If Sven had known that the only way to kill the Highlanders was to cut their heads off Carden knew that he would make sure to kill every last one of them. He had seen kings like Sven in the past, those who only worried about growing their own kingdom and did not worry who he hurt along the way. None of them had come as close to finding out the Highlanders secrets as Sven had.

  He had been watching them since the day he became king. Sven had always been amazed at the secrecy of the warriors who worked as mercenaries. Even when he was a child his own father had told him stories of the people and although he did not believe that they could shapeshift into werewolves he knew that they were a strong people. Many of his own soldiers had reported shooting the Highlanders only to have them become even angrier and come after them as if they had not been harmed at all.

  He had told the same stories that his father told him to his daughter Zuzulla. As a young girl she had been so intern his stories, but as she had gotten older her interest seemed to fade. Sven loved his daughter more than life and he was determined to leave her with the largest kingdom in the history of kingdoms when his time was done. Her mother had died while giving birth and Sven was all she had ever had. He had never remarried, but instead focused on ensuring Zuzulla was a powerful ruler when her time came.

  Of course Zuzulla had many servants and many people caring for her besides her father, but he always felt guilty for her not having a mother. He wanted to make sure he left her with everything he could. Zuzulla was a beautiful princess and her father knew that she would have no problem finding a strong prince as her husband. Men had already started to inquire about her and she had just turned 18. She had fair skin and long black hair, the bluest of eyes and full red lips.

  She had a body that men lusted after when she was seen in public, large plump breasts that were only accentuated by her corset, a small waist and full round hips. Sven was glad that her body was not visible under the dresses that she wore outside of the castle, but fire shot through his veins when he was the way the soldiers looked at her as she pranced through the castle in more revealing clothes. It was times like that when Sven wished he had been able to give her a brother. Someone who would be able to keep an eye on her all of the time. To be honest Sven knew he would breathe a sigh of relief once she was married. At least then he would not have to worry about her as much even if it meant that his little girl was growing up.