Married To The Cowboy (Love In Collin's Ranch 3)
Page 44
Giving in to the need, Dagmar cupped Aila’s warm face, tilting her so he could press his warm tongue deeper. Her flavor rushed through him, igniting both a selfless want and a hungry need. When she met him with the same need, Dagmar let his fingers sink into her thick, dark curls. He tangled them there, tugging enough to pull Aila’s head back. He roamed over her jaw and neck as he worked other areas of her body. His hand wandered over her milky white breasts, teasing their tips until she moaned.
Fueled by fresh arousal, Dagmar took her nipple into his mouth, suckling like a piglet. Gods, did she move against him though. Her trembling only served to heighten Dagmar’s resolve to please her. While he trailed a hand over her lithe torso, Aila’s body opened to him. Her legs moved anxiously the closer he got to her, as if her pussy couldn’t wait any longer.
“Turn around again,” Dagmar whispered against her ear. “I want to open your eyes to new and beautiful experiences.” When Aila did as he asked, Dagmar ran a hand over her ass, enjoying the plump feeling of her backside. Bringing his palm down on her skin, he gave her a nice whack across her bottom. Her moan and consequent jump only served to fuel his need to fill her. Grabbing her hips, Dagmar pressed himself into the space between her thighs.
“Do you feel my need, Aila, the way I hunger for you?”
Her breathless response made Dagmar growl. One swift, hard thrust and he filled her fully, pressing his rock hard cock deep into her ripe pussy. Her swollen folds caressed him with each withdrawal and eagerly welcomed him again each time he took her higher. Using his fingers, Dagmar stroked Aila’s wet clit so that her moans grew louder with each thrust. He couldn’t wait to make her explode.
Pressing her, Dagmar pulled Aila’s hips tighter against him, using short, stimulating thrusts to build her slowly. He could tell by the way she moaned, breathless and choppy, that she was so close. Leaning forward over her, he pressed kisses to the sensitive skin across her shoulders and neck. Dagmar held himself back, fighting to control his own need. He teased her breasts and clit in tandem, creating a rhythm that she matched with her body. Joining him in a way she previously hadn’t, Dagmar found a new side to Aila he liked very much.
Feeling his own need come calling, Dagmar quickly gripped her hips and picked up the pace of his strokes, pulling her tight against him with each one, his cock filling her fully. Her breathing grew raspy as her orgasm swept over her, nearly knocking her off her feet. Dagmar reached around her waist to hold her up and tight against him as his own release spilled into her. In he aftermath of their lovemaking, Dagmar kissed her everywhere, relishing the feel of her wet, naked skin.
“You never cease to amaze me,” he said, a feeling of affection swamping him. He finally pulled back and leaned against the wall of the hot spring to pull Aila closer. Pressing a kiss to her wet mass of curls, he added, “I love you, Aila.”
Aila couldn’t speak. No one had ever left her this breathless. Looking up at him then, she caught that love shining in his eyes and smiled to herself. Who’d have thought that, out of all the men she’d known in her life, which admittedly wasn’t as many as some women, that it’d be Dagmar to ensnare her heart?
“I’ve loved you since I was eight years old.”
“There’s a vast difference between the love between friends and the love I’m speaking of, Aila.”
“Don’t patronize me as if I’m addle-brained, Dagmar. I know exactly what I meant, and so did you. I loved you, even then. If I hadn’t, there’s no way in the afterworld or the here and now that I’d have put up with you fighting me over ruling our people.”
“No?” Dagmar challenged. “Think I’d just roll over and give it to you? I think not.”
“Oh, no,” Aila laughed. “I’d never have made that mistake. You’re too piggish and bull headed.”
“Damn right, woman,” he chuckled. “You ready to get out of here yet?”
“Yeah. Unlike you, I had a terrible night’s sleep and could use some rest.” Aila laughed when Dagmar chased her to their piles of clothes. He caught her just as she grabbed her tunic.
“Not so fast.”
“Let me go!” She giggled until she felt Dagmar all but shove her behind him. “Hey! What the—“ Only when Aila caught a glimpse of Svenbreck did she realize that Dagmar was trying to preserve her modesty. Quickly she slipped on her tunic and, grabbing her leggings with her toes, slipped those on as well.
“I certainly didn’t mean to interrupt, I didn’t realize anyone was using the spring bath.”
“No one is using it at the moment. Thank you again for your courage and loyalty today, Sven.” Dagmar shook the man’s hand, even though his eyes never left Aila’s.
“Are you coming to the Winter Solstice celebration at the end of the week?” Aila asked, desperate to relieve the tension in the air.
“Planning on it,” he smiled. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to wash up quickly. I’ll see you all later.”
“Alright,” Dagmar agreed. “Have a great night.”
Dagmar walked Aila to her tent and, grabbing her hand, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Milady,” he said with a mock bow. “Will I see the lady later?”
“You will indeed, good sir,” Aila laughed. All she could think about before, during, and after supper was that Dagmar had said he loved her. Was that true or just wishful thinking? She so wanted to believe that it was the truth. She wanted a chance at a future with him, because if any of it was a lie, she’d cease to be the woman she was and become someone she didn’t like.
Sighing, Aila lay down on her bearskin blanket and fell asleep. And sleeping, she dreamed of a man who met her need, indulged some of her wants and knew her more intimately than any other. Still, she could never see his face in the dream, and to sink her hopes on something or someone she could commit to was still foolhardy for her ultra-cautious mind, even if a piece of her heart did desperately want to believe him.
THE END
Highlander's Need
Chapter One: Business or Pleasure?
Dagmar woke before dawn on the winter solstice. Aches and pains from the last few days reared their ugly heads as he dressed. “You’re getting too old for all this fighting,” Dagmar chided himself.
“Speaking to yourself again?” Aila laughed lightly. She sat up and Dagmar turned to see her milky skin as she pulled the blanket up to cover herself.
“Someone has to talk to me or I’ll go mad.”
“Ah well. In that case I suppose I can spare you some conversation once in a while.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” he laughed. “I’ll start making a warm beverage if you’re in the mood. Since you’re up you might want to see if there’s any meat left in the storage.”
Dagmar went out and quickly came back with enough wood for a small fire. As a leader of the Pict people of Hail, he and Aila would be the last two to see their more permanent structures built. “We need to speak with, Svenbreck and Dufguss about getting people into their homes faster. This weather won’t hold much longer before we get buried in the color of winter.”
“That we will,” Aila said, bringing her body closer to the fire. “Thank you for this.”
He met her dark eyes with his own light ones. “You’re welcome.” Leaning around the brewing beverage, Dagmar kissed her soundly. “Get warm and we’ll have a cup of brew before we get started. The sooner the better as I’d like tonight just for us, if that’s alright.”
“I’d like that,” Aila smiled.
“Good.”
Dagmar tore a piece of bear jerky and handed it to Aila. “Cold storage is going to save our hides this winter. Bless, Dragna for being smart enough to think of it.”
“Yes,” Aila agreed. “Bless you, Sven, and Dufguss for being smart enough, and pissed enough, to go bag the red deer and bear. Not to mention the pretty ermines.”
“You’ve got a soft spot for them,” he grinned.
“Can I help it if I like that their coats go white in the winter?”
“I don’t want to kill them off. I just find them beautiful and useful. If we’re in need of meat, there’s no reason we can’t use their pelts as well.”
“True,” he smirked. “Still, I don’t put it past you to kill them first for their skins and secondly for their meat.”
“Guilty,” she chuckled. “Do you happen to know what became of the ermine pelts you brought back last time?”
“I think, Aislin ended up with them. She said something about mittens for some of our littlest villagers.”
“That will be nice, to have them clothed properly for a change.”
“It will,” Dagmar smiled. “I’ve got to see to some reinforcements around the perimeter. I’ll see you for lunch?”
“Always,” Aila smiled. Dagmar wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
“I love you, Aila Dagny.”
“I love you, Dagmar the Impossible.” Dagmar took her laughing mouth, sweeping her into desire so quickly that her moans of pleasure echoed in his ears.
“Be good.”
“I promise,” she winked. Raising her hand in the air, flicking her wrist and calling her power, Aila sent the warmth of the fire to Dagmar. Aila grinned when he turned back toward her.
“Thanks for the blanket of warmth.”
“It’ll only last about two hours, but I figure it’s a good start.”
***
Aila watched Dagmar leave his tent and wondered especially at the last three weeks. How had they gone from near enemies to intimate lovers? Still shaking her head about it, Aila headed over to see Dragna about their food supply.
“Come in child,” Dragna said. “What brings you to see me when the sun is barely up? You should be warming a certain man’s bed.”
Refusing to blush, Aila grinned. “I warmed his bed enough for now.”
“Does that mean we’ll be having ourselves a ruling couple soon?”
“I’d like to hope so, although we both know, Dagmar is as stubborn as any mule we have, twice as stubborn in fact.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Dragna laughed. “What can I do for you today?”
“His highness wanted me to check on our meat supply and cold storage.”
“Meat supply is great. We should easily be good until spring. Cold storage, however, isn’t so great. Our carrots and potatoes are almost critically low. We also need more ginger and other roots we can find. Anything we can use to spice our meals.”
“Should I go out with a party to hunt some up? What about mushrooms?”
“We’re good on mushrooms. We planted some of the last batch that took well so we’re doing well on those. As for searching for more roots and such, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.”
“Alright,” Aila said with a stoic nod of her head. “I’ll check in with Dagmar and make sure he knows that we’re out. Then I’ll take Aislin and Aranath with me. They’re two of the best root hunters I know of.”
“Take a hog with you too,” Dragna advised. “He’ll help you find some roots we’ll need for medicines and poultices.”
“Got it.”
Aila headed in Dagmar’s direction, but something didn’t feel right. For checking the perimeter and all the building that was going on, it was eerily quiet. Aila saw the first arrow fly toward her from her peripheral. She yelled the warning just as the arrow sank into her upper arm. “War!” she screamed again, running for the gate to close it. She’d die before these bastards harmed her people. Men flowed out from the village and poured over the walls like ants. The sight put her in awe of her people. They too would fight for what was theirs.
“Dunkerie!” a man shouted. He was a hulk of a man, easily towering over Aila.
“Catch!” Bregnan Bulcher called, tossing Aila a sword. She caught it with her left hand and swung out with all her might. Still she barely knocked the man back. His deep laugh nearly shook her bones.
“Is that all you’ve got little lady?” he chuckled. “No wonder your men are so pitiful. They let their women fight for them.” He raised his sword and Aila could almost see her certain death as she stood there. Calling on the anger inside her, she used the wind to have the man stumbling back, a look of shock on his face.
“Not all of their women need help,” she grinned. He lifted his sword again, vengeance in his yes now. Thunder started to rumble angry through the sky just when he brought his sword down. Aila saw another sword swing up hard to meet his midair as she started to call the lightning.
“Our women fight alongside us, not for us.” Aila nearly wept when Dagmar spoke. Well over six feet, Dagmar met the man swing for swing. She could clearly see that Dagmar was the better swordsman. Even if she wasn’t partial to him, she’d have been truly grateful for his assistance and leaned his way on the fight. When he’d finally bested the man, he handed a sword to her, “Get inside the gate and have Ragnic look at your arm and hand.”
“I’m fine,” Aila returned, steely determination in her stormy gray eyes. “I can hold my own.”
Time seemed to stand still as Aila watched those electric blue eyes bore into her. “Your arm is injured and needs to be tended, Aila. Not to mention your powers are just as effective from inside. I can’t have you out here distracting me,” he growled. One squeeze on her upper arm, where the arrow tip still sat sunken into her flesh, had Aila dropping the sword he’d handed her. “You need Ragnic to get that arrow out of your arm and look at your hand. If he clears you for battle and only if, then you can rejoin us.”
“Fine,” Aila sighed. She picked the sword up with her left hand and went back to the gate. As she stepped through, three large lightning bolts streamed from the sky, striking three men of Dunkerie dead.
***
Dagmar watched until she was safe inside before he turned to survey the battle. The men and some women of Hail were holding their own, but just barely. Dunkerie had apparently not learned their lesson last time. He’d make sure it sank in hard this time around. “Breslin!” he called.
“Dagmar!” came the reply. He ran toward his friend and scooped up a hatchet on the way. Throwing it hard, Dagmar sank it into the skull of a man who’d gotten the upper hand on a woman who was now on the ground. “Fight!” he yelled. Even as the woman gained her footing, Dagmar turned to see Breslin in the thick of the fighting.
With two Dunkerie men coming at him, he was fiercely outnumbered, for the Dunkerie men could fight like mad men. Smiling, Dagmar threw a knife, catching one of the men in the thigh. Seeing as that just seemed to piss him off, Dagmar lashed out with his sword, saving Breslin from a nasty scar along his torso.
“Take your sweet time why don’t you.”
“Don’t mind if I do!” Dagmar chuckled. Looking his friend in the eye he said. “Shall we?”
In answer, Breslin turned and met the oncoming sword with his own, the clash of steel against steel, ringing out. Dagmar dispatched the other man easily, hacking off an arm before thrusting his sword into the man’s entrails. Pulling his bloody sword back, he bumped into Bregnan who’d come to aid his brother. “Bloody bastard,” he grinned. He turned toward his friends as an arrow whisked through the air, catching his thigh. “Aw shit!”
Almost immediately the two brothers shielded Dagmar, but another arrow, this one from the opposite direction hit him in his torso, ripping through his side. “Bollocks,” Dagmar said as his eyes glazed over with pain. When Breslin turned to catch him as he fell, a third arrow caught him in the shoulder, forcing its way through his arm and into his shoulder cavity.
“Fall back!” Bregnan called as Breslin hefted Dagmar’s weight. “Fall Back!”
Dagmar couldn’t tell where he was at as fatigue swept through him. The pain came in waves, some mild and others were breath stealing. His mind was foggy as well, but he could remember his name and the events that had landed him wherever it was that he was at. The first time he’d tried to sit up, pain radiated throug
h his body until he’d collapsed and he fought the almost constant darkness that wanted to swallow him.
He’d tried to talk, to ask what day it was. Everything he said though, came out as a groan. “Try not to talk,” Aila said, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. Barely able to open his eyes, Dagmar gave into the fatigue once again and slept.
***
Aila pressed her lips together, worrying over the gash on Dagmar’s side. “I don’t have the power to heal him.” The fact that it went straight through was a good thing, but it didn’t mean he was out of the woods yet. “He needs, euccomia bark and papain to aid his healing,” Ragnic said. Also, some valerian root if Dragna has any, for pain relief. He could also use some turmeric for the swelling. I’ll see to his other wounds in time, but to get him on the road to recovery, we need those especially for the gash in his side.”
Aila was out the door before Ragnic stopped talking. She practically flew across the village to Dragna’s tent ignoring her injured arm that Ragnick had put in a tight sling. “Aila?” the old woman said. “Sit down.”
“I can’t,” Aila said, unable to control the shaking in her hands. “I need some herbs Ragnic sent me for. Turmeric, eucommia bark, papain, and valerian root.”
“Ragnic is a good man,” Dragna smiled. “I have everything but the eucommia bark and turmeric.”
“Then I’ll take these and go hunt down the others.”
“Do you think it’s wise to go out there tonight?”
“I can’t just leave him like that, Dragna. He would do it for me.”
“That’s because he loves you, Aila.”