“You started a fire that is turning into a blaze. I just hope that you know what you’re doing, Patrick.” He showed me his stamina and the way that he continually pushed me into the straw matting was something of a godlike quality. He didn’t seem to have the ability to cum on command. He needed the extra stimulation of my hand stroking his chest and pulling at the hairs to elicit the response of his shaft throbbing.
“I believe that I can take care of that. Just keep up what you’re doing and I’m sure that you’ll be pleasantly surprised, Elizabeth.” His godlike qualities and the body of a man that would’ve put to shame most of the soldiers in the English army was now mine. He thought that he was holding me down, but if I really wanted to, I could’ve screamed bloody murder and put up quite a scene. “Fuck… I didn’t know that English women were such freaks.” His legs were fatigued and I could see that his breathing was hoarse.
“That’s it…right fucking there…YESSSSS.” That orgasm made my body convulse and I looked like a fish out of water. My tongue was sticking out of my mouth and my mind was awash with these flashing lights that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“Elizabeth… I think this is yours… Damn it.” His cock was now giving in to that feeling and it didn’t matter if he wanted to hold back or not. I was going to make him a shell of a man and then I would build him back up from the ground up. I could not allow my brother to get the best of me and I was glad that Patrick was willing and able to put him in his place. It did make me relax and enjoy the sweet release of endorphins. His seed was scorching hot and I could feel every single stream, as he let himself go finally.
“It is mine and you’re giving me the one thing that I can’t get anywhere else.” His chest hair was matted with moisture and he was now lying on top of me still joined together at the hip. His cock was still inside, not ready to leave the comfort of my womanly embrace. He fell in my arms and I soon felt his retreating member taking its final bow. It left me with a permanent reminder in my mind and in my body. He was breathing in my ear and I was enjoying the aftermath of the moment. Touching myself, I could feel remnants of his sauce clinging to my lips.
He didn’t see me do it, but I wiped it clean and I savored the taste. I was always about the finer things and a fine wine is not something that I am a stranger to. This was better than that and if I could bottle this taste, I could probably make a fortune. Women from every village would come calling for just one bottle and would give anything to have it. It was an interesting thought, but not very realistic, when I began to think about it.
“If you’re thinking that I’m sleeping, then you are wrong. I’m just gathering myself and getting my second wind.” This made me think that he had designs on doing it again. I wasn’t sure if I was up to that, but with a man like Patrick, I was going to have to be ready for just about anything. “I don’t think it’s going to take me very long to get back to fighting form. Elizabeth, most of your English chaps probably are lying on their side and snoring by now. They would think that they had done their job, but it was nothing compared to what the woman really wanted.” How he could know what a woman wanted was beyond me. He was a Neanderthal, a primal beast and I don’t think that I would have it any other way.
He did make good on that promise and his flag did once again lay claim to the inside of my thighs. He gave it 100% and by the time the light of day was upon us, I was completely exhausted and in no shape to do anything, but lie there. “I don’t even have the words to describe what I’m feeling, Patrick. You were able to go all night and I thought that I was going to pass out from sheer pleasure. I didn’t, because I didn’t want to make you think that you had the upper hand.” He cupped my face in his hand and brought his lips down for one more lingering kiss.
“You were insatiable and if that is what I get every night, then you can be assured that this is where I will be. I could barely keep up with you. You say that I was the one that was uncontrollable, but I’m not sure that I can believe you.” Our bodies showed the effect of what we had done together and there were marks on his body. I had scratched him and there were marks on my body where he had scratched me. This was a relationship that was built on a give and go.
I did get pregnant and I did have his baby and two years later, I returned back to England a changed woman. I found my brother to be cowering away from me. Whatever Patrick had done to keep him in line was doing that and a whole lot more. He was nothing like the domineering young man that I remembered. I soon found that this was not where I want to be and I walked away and went back to Patrick.
I thought that he would be surprised, but he only opened his arms and welcomed me back into the family. My son Conner was sleeping soundly and I still couldn’t believe that I had actually considered abandoning him. He was my life and Patrick was my heart and there was no way that I was going to walk away from what made me who I was today.
“I knew that you would be back. I also knew, Elizabeth that you needed to do that to get it out of your system. There was a moment there that I thought you were going to stay away. I hope you know that you’re the best thing in my life.” We stood there on our land watching Conner play.
I touched my belly to inform him without saying any words that there was another one on the way.
THE END
Bought by the Highlander
Victoria smiled at her reflection in the polished mirror and smoothed an imaginary stray hair back into the curled blonde twists on top of her head. Her maid, Abigail, shook her greying head and patted her shoulder.
“Miss, everything is fine. You look plenty fine for dinner.”
Victoria tossed her head in indignation and rustled her skirts as she breezed past the older lady.
“My father expects perfection, you know.”
Abigail smiled humorlessly and nodded as she straightened the dress around Victoria’s full bosom and slim waist, “Aye that he does miss.”
Victoria sighed dramatically, as only a tormented young woman can, and she swished her way out the door and down the massive stone staircase into the dining room.
The table was already set by the kitchen staff, and her parents awaited her arrival before eating. Her father scowled in her direction but said nothing about her late arrival. Her mother shook her head almost imperceptibly but also kept her mouth shut.
Victoria had not realized how hungry she was until the scents from the kitchen and the table tickled her nose. The vegetable soup, homemade bread, and various accompaniments all smelled divine and she eagerly pulled her chair up. Considering her petite figure, it was amazing how much food she could actually consume.
The soup warmed her from the inside and took the chill out of the fall air. She tried to be ladylike in her dining manners, as her mother, Lydia, had carefully taught her, but everything looks so good it was hard to resist trying the smoked ham and the cheese and the pickles and the apples. Even the bread smeared with peach chutney was delicious.
“Victoria,” her mother chastened, “you keep eating like that and you will get to be as large as one of those brutish and unrefined Scot women. They are not ladies such as us.”
“But Mother,” Victoria mumbled around a mouthful of food, “I’m hungry.”
“Victoria! Please do not talk with your mouthful! That is truly barbaric!”
She stared sullenly at her plate and finished everything she had taken. Despite her mother’s strong correction of her table manners and her etiquette, she knew her father’s words would be harsher if she wasted the food he worked so hard to provide. After dinner, the kitchen help cleared the table while the small family moved into the drawing room to sit by the fire.
They resided in a modestly sized but luxuriously furnished estate home, made of stones gathered from the fields nearby and furnished with the finest possible items from London as well as more exotic locations that her father traded with. The three of them hardly had to lift a finger around the house and grounds due to the constant vigilance of the help they employe
d.
The yellow and orange flames licked at the blackened stones of the hearth and Victoria curled up in one of the chairs, spread a quilt over her lap, and started to practice her reading. She knew, because her parents always told her, that she was fortunate in her lifestyle. Not many women were given the gift of literacy but they thought it would fetch a more desirable husband for her if she could prove their family’s proper breeding and higher education.
She had been a wild child when she was younger, and her parents had tried everything to tame her. They were afraid that they would be saddled with an untamed daughter forever. Slowly, as the training and maturity caught up with her, she had calmed down. But every so often, her mother had to repress a smirk when she caught Victoria sticking her tongue out behind her father’s back, or when she would sneak back in from the fields with her lips stained red from tasting the fresh wild raspberries that grew by the pond.
One of the kitchen staff delivered a large mug of ale to her father and a small glass of sherry to her mother. She looked up, hopeful and expectant, but was only given a cup of tea. She screwed her lips into a sneer but accepted it anyway.
Her porcelain cheeks appeared flushed from the flickering light of the fire, and her rosy pink lips moved slightly as she practiced the large words in her book. Her delicate finger slid along the page so that she did not lose her place. Her mother smiled softly as she regarded her daughter. When she was not being intentionally difficult, she was really a sweet and beautiful young woman. Both Andrew and Lydia hoped for the best possible union when they married her off. Of course, each of them had their own definitions of what would be considered the “best” union.
Chapter Two
The Scottish winds blew down from the hills and ruffled the head of dark curls. Dylan brushed a stray curl from his eyes and tried to refocus his deep blue eyes. The target was being difficult, but he was determined to hit it. He took a deep breath, aimed his bow carefully, and let the arrow fly. With a satisfying thunk, it finally found the apple on his friend’s head.
With a crow of delighted victory, he tossed down the bow and loped across the field to claim his prize. His friend shook his head and bent over to pick up the apple and hand it to Dylan.
“You are going to kill me one of these days,” he muttered.
“I have a steady hand, my friend, and practice will help keep it that way.”
He withdrew the arrow and took a chunk out of the apple with a smile.
“Let’s go find some lunch. I don’t think this apple will hold us over.”
They strode back to the castle, clapping each other on the shoulder. It was a bright autumn day and the sun felt good on their shoulders as they passed through the vegetable garden. The rest of the group was already gathered inside and waiting impatiently at the large wooden table in the dining hall.
“About time you boys showed up! We were starving to death!”
Dylan shook his dark head and laughed at the rotund speaker, “You are in no danger of that.”
The group broke into hoots of laughter as the cook started to bring out the food. It was a simple but generous meal of smoked turkey on homemade bread with pickled carrots from the garden and more fresh apples. All of the men ate heartily, and washed it down with mugs of cider.
“What’s the plan for the afternoon?”
Dylan leaned back in his chair and scratched his reddish brown beard as he thought.
“We need to head into town soon, for supplies. Winter will be upon us before we know it. But I hate to waste such a beautiful day for a supply run. Besides, it is probably better that we set out in the morning sometime so that we are home before dark. I guess we can always go check that back field. When’s the last time we checked the flock?”
“Been a few days I think. Those sheep do have a way of wandering off,” one of the men mused.
“You mean, wandering off into someone else’s dinner table?”
“Something like that.”
Dylan grinned, “It’s hard to maintain this much land and property.”
He nodded to several of the men and bid them to check on that field. It was almost time to shear the sheep, and start working the wool for selling purposes.
“I’ve got a business arrangement that I need to see to but that meeting isn’t until tomorrow. I think I’ll take a couple of you, and go check on the food stores so we can start making a list of supplies. I have to head into town tomorrow for that meeting, so I’ll take a cart and a couple of you so that we can just do it all at once.”
They all nodded and pushed back from the table. One group headed to the field on foot and the other headed towards the barn.
The food stores seemed ample enough, but the clan was large and would need a lot of sustenance through the upcoming winter. Dylan, as the only son of the head of the clan, had been left in charge of the family when his father died. He had shouldered the responsibility well, and the rest of the family seemed agreeable when the authority had landed with him.
His long legs took huge strides as they approached the barn, and his broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorway as he strolled inside. They had been collecting the proceeds of the gardens through the spring and summer, and the fishing off the coast had been fruitful that season. The potatoes would keep for quite a while, most of the vegetables had been pickled for preservation, and the fish was packed in salt for curing. The chickens had been laying well through the warm months, and having them in the barn gave the family a decent chance of eggs through the winter. They would add some basics from the stores in town such as rice and coffee. The winter meals would not be quite as interesting as those from the growing season, however it should be enough to see them through.
Dylan was an unusual landowner, since he tried his best to look out for the peasants that surrounded his estate. He did not offer much from their own stores, but he tried to make sure they had enough of their own food to survive. He rarely took their food but sometimes requested their assistance in maintaining his own land.
Everyone finished their tasks for the day, and after a supper that closely resembled their lunch, the men shared a jug of cider before bedding down for the evening.
The next day, Dylan headed out to town with a few of his clansmen so that they could make the meeting and get supplies. He declined to mention that the meeting was to arrange a wife for himself. It would end up being an excellent business pairing for trading with the English, and he hoped that the daughter was at least pleasant to look at.
Chapter Three
Andrew set out that same morning, for the same town. He and Lydia had briefly discussed the arrangement but even if Lydia had disagreed with the idea, Andrew was going to follow through. He did not like the idea of marrying his daughter off to some brutish and barbaric Scotsman, but the trading potential was more than he could resist. The Scot wool would fetch a nice price at the market and his grain was much heartier than what they could grow up there.
With Victoria’s penchant for tantrums and disobedience, both Andrew and Lydia agreed that it would be best not to mention the arrangement until it was a done deal. They both knew that she had been looking forward to a cultured husband, preferably in London, with the finest furnishings and parties that England had to offer. Neither of them was ready to face her reaction when they told her she was going to be marrying a Scotsman in the north. But he knew that none of the men in his circles would have much to do with his flighty and unpredictable daughter.
Andrew, and his private guard, arrived in town about an hour before the meeting was to happen. He intended to arrive first and settled into a comfortable chair in the pub. His breakfast had worn off, so he ordered lunch and dug heartily into the beef and barley soup that the servant delivered. As he finished, he hoped it would not be considered rude to have already eaten. If the other man indicated he wanted food, Andrew figured he could always order something else.
Andrew looked up with a start to see the man standing over him. He was enormous,
with a full beard that obscured what looked like a strong jawline. His teeth gleamed brightly when he smiled, and Andrew stood to shake the man’s hand. Through the window he could see several others that looked as though they could be related.
“I understand I come with good references,” the Scot boomed.
“Yes sir, I hope I do as well.”
“For business, yes. For the rest of the deal, I’ve heard mixed reviews.”
Andrew shook his head, “That girl will be the death of me yet.”
Dylan laughed, “I can break a horse, I can train this daughter of yours.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Andrew muttered as he shook his head.
“Shall we eat while we talk?” Dylan offered.
“Certainly,” Andrew replied.
They ordered up more soup, and the servant was smart enough not to react when Andrew placed the request. At Dylan’s request, the server also delivered two large mugs of ale.
They settled into their chairs and their meal while they hashed out the details of the business portion of their arrangement. Andrew knew that the business deal was going to net him a tidy sum, and he hoped that it would do the same for the Scotsman. He was not sure what would happen should the grain turn sour. By the time the mugs and bowls were empty, it was time for the other portion of the agreement.
Andrew sighed and rubbed his temples as he thought about the entire marriage arrangement. This Scotsman looked as though he would snap him in half should Victoria turn out to be a bigger pain in the ass than he was prepared to deal with. But the trade negotiation hinged on the promised wife, and he needed the business side to work. Plus, Victoria was not getting any younger and none of the appropriate men in their area would have anything to do with the hot-headed blonde woman.
They shook on the deal and parted ways. Andrew dreaded dinner that evening, when he would have to tell Victoria about her upcoming wedding. She had been raised with the understanding that her marriage would be arranged, but he knew she never dreamed of moving so far from home to live with her Scot husband.
Taken Captive By The Highlander (Scottish Highlander Romance) Page 8
