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CAPTURED BY A LAIRD (THE DOUGLAS LEGACY)

Page 9

by Mallory, Margaret


  His “hmmph” in response could mean anything, but she had greater worries at the moment than disrespectful servants. Despite her fears, she felt her body begin to relax as he combed her hair with smooth, rhythmic strokes.

  After a long while, he set down the comb, and she tensed again as he knelt in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her head. She tried to control her panic, but he could crush her head between those powerful hands. When he began to rub her temples, she drew in a shaky breath.

  Why was he doing this? His handsome face was unreadable. After a time, she found it difficult to stay on her guard. As the tension left her body, it was replaced by an overwhelming tiredness, and her eyes drifted closed.

  “By the heavens, you’re beautiful,” he said.

  Her eyes flew open, and she found herself staring into piercing green eyes just inches from hers. She could not breathe with him so close.

  “I want ye so badly it hurts,” he said in a rough whisper, looking as though he would like to swallow her whole.

  She braced herself, knowing what would come next.

  “But we can take as long as ye like to become…acquainted.” His eyes held hers as he spoke, but his fingers drifted down the length of her arm and then encased her hand.

  Her breath caught in her throat when he pushed her shift off her shoulder.

  “I intend to become well acquainted with every lovely inch of ye,” he said, and pressed his lips to the skin he had just bared. “And I’ll have ye wanting me when we consummate this marriage.”

  His pledge to wait until she wanted him was an empty one, unless he was willing to wait for all eternity. Still, Alison was grateful for whatever time it bought her.

  He pulled her to her feet. When he cupped her cheek and locked his gaze on her mouth, her throat went dry. Her breath hitched as he dragged his thumb across her bottom lip.

  He was going to kiss her. She knew it would be different from Blackadder’s kisses, but she did not know how. Her heart beat wildly as he leaned down, inching closer and closer until she felt his breath on her mouth. When his lips finally touched hers, they were surprisingly soft, and hers parted on a sigh. Despite her fears and the harrowing tales she’d heard about him, her only thought was, This is how a kiss should be.

  Except for his hand on her face, only their mouths touched. His tongue gently probed her mouth, sending darts of pleasure to her toes. His fingers slid through her hair, massaging her head. Her mind grew sluggish, as if drugged by a potion, while her skin became far too sensitive. Every fiber of her body seemed drawn to the heat of his, so near but not quite touching.

  She had heard poets speak of kisses that enthralled like a spell, but she had thought they exaggerated, if not outright lied. She had been wrong. Of their own accord, her hands went around his neck, and with the pressure of just her fingertips, she brought his powerful body against hers.

  He groaned and pulled her into deeper, wetter kisses, and she sank into him like warm honey over hot bread. When he broke the kiss, she felt dazed and unsteady on her feet. By the heavens, that was nothing like Blackadder’s slobbering kisses.

  Before she could recover, he swept her up into his arms, carried her to the bed, and laid her down. She could not catch her breath. After barely touching her before, his hands and mouth were everywhere.

  “Ye feel so good,” he said as he pressed kisses to her cheeks, her eyelids, her hair, her neck.

  He paused just long enough to jerk his breeks off, and she got an eyeful of his enormous, pulsing erection. Fear coursed through her as he sprawled half on top of her and locked his arms around her. She felt trapped, suffocated.

  She told herself it would be over soon, and she mustn’t aggravate him. Still, a small gasp of alarm escaped her lips when she felt his shaft, hard and urgent, prodding her hip. He drew back at once and examined her with a furrow between his brows.

  “Ach, I frightened ye.” He was breathing hard. “From the way ye kissed me, I thought…Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.”

  He moved to lie beside her and propped his head up on one elbow. The candlelight played over the hard, handsome features of his face, picked up the gold glints in his hair, and lit his skin with a warm glow.

  “I’m not accustomed to a woman like you,” he said.

  She was tempted to ask what sort of woman he was accustomed to. Instead, she asked, “What do you mean by a woman like me?”

  “You’re such a delicate lass,” he said, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt ye without meaning to.”

  She blinked against a sudden threat of tears. No one had worried about her in such a long time. Without pausing to think about what she did, she laid her hand on his chest. She felt the steady beat of his heart against her palm.

  He covered her hand with his. “Promise you’ll tell me if I hurt ye?”

  “Aye,” she said.

  “If I’m slow to hear ye,” he said, and gave her a wink, “just hit me over the head to get my attention.”

  “I wouldn’t want to hurt ye,” she said, and gave him a small smile. “I’m tougher than I look.”

  “Are ye, now? We’ll see about that,” he said with a wicked glint in his eye.

  His expression grew serious again as he ran his finger over her collarbone and along her skin above the neckline of her shift.

  “I like to touch ye,” he said. “I want ye to like it as well.”

  Alison drew in a shaky breath as his lips followed the line his finger had traced along her bare skin. She could not reconcile this man with the Beast of Wedderburn, who broke down her gate and challenged every warrior in the castle. At least she understood the Beast.

  This other Wedderburn who teased her with gentle touches confused her. She suspected he might be even more dangerous.

  “I want to hear ye say my name,” he said against her ear.

  “Laird Wedderburn.”

  “Nay, my Christian name.” He rested a hand on her hip, firm and possessive. “Do ye know it?”

  He dragged the tip of his tongue down the side of her throat, and she felt her nipples tighten.

  “David,” she said on an exhale.

  When he leaned back, the heat in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.

  “I like how it sounds on your lips,” he said, dropping his gaze to her mouth. “Say it again for me.”

  She swallowed. Her voice came out barely a whisper. “David.”

  Tension curled in her belly as he leaned over her. A startled yip came from her throat when his chest touched hers, making her all too aware there was nothing between them but the thin shift. But then his mouth was on hers and drove every other thought from her head. Her resistance melted as his soft, warm lips sent tingles of pleasure to her belly and down her limbs.

  When he pulled away, a sigh escaped her. The man certainly knew how to kiss a lass.

  He laced his fingers in her hair and stared down at her. The intensity of his green eyes was unnerving.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked.

  “I want to make ye quiver with need until ye can’t help crying out my name when I’m buried inside ye,” he said. “I want to give ye such pleasure that every day ye long for the night so that ye can come to my bed again.”

  She snorted. “That will never happen.”

  “It will,” he said.

  When pigs fly.

  “I want ye willing,” he said with a slow smile, “and that ye shall be.”

  “What difference could it possibly make?” Blackadder had never cared. He took what he wanted. Wedderburn would do the same.

  “It matters to me.” Wedderburn’s smile was gone, and his eyes looked haunted.

  The fearsome Laird of Wedderburn, who rained terror on the Borders, stole her castle, robbed her children of their birthright, and risked the wrath of both her powerful clan and the Crown without a second thought, felt uneasy about taking his rights as a husband unless she was willing.<
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  “Ye feel guilty about this part,” she said, startled by this unexpected truth. “That’s why ye want to seduce me.”

  He shifted his gaze to the side. Wedderburn had forced her to say vows and to commit herself, her property, and the raising of her daughters to him without a trace of guilt. But forcing her to give him her body crossed a line, violated a code of honor she never would have guessed he had.

  The walls she had erected to protect herself cracked and let in a thin ray of hope.

  “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I didn’t feel I had a choice about this marriage either.”

  She sighed inwardly. Men made decisions and pretended it was fate. Of course he could have let her go.

  “But from the first moment I saw ye,” he said, “I wanted ye.”

  Her skin grew hot as his dark gaze swept over her.

  “I’ll seduce ye,” he said, and dragged his thumb across her bottom lip, “because pleasuring ye will give me pleasure.”

  “I believe”—she paused to clear her throat—”that it is your pride that requires it.”

  “That too,” he admitted, and a smile curved his full lips as he leaned closer.

  That smile disarmed her and was quite unfair. But it was nothing to the kiss that followed. Instead of grabbing and prodding at her, he enfolded her in his arms and kissed her as if he wanted to do it forever.

  She had never experienced anything as sensuous as his kisses. Though they remained unhurried, they grew deeper and longer, his tongue moving against hers in a magical rhythm. She felt as if she was falling into a dream—but she was abruptly awakened from it by his erection jutting against her thigh.

  She broke the kiss and turned her head. Although the beginning was far more pleasant than with Blackadder, it would end the same.

  She reminded herself that Wedderburn was using his slow kisses, gentle touches, and comforting embrace to win her compliance and assuage his guilt. The desire he evoked in her was as unwelcome as it was unexpected. It would only make the disappointment harder to bear.

  “What is it, Alison?”

  It almost made her weep to hear him say her name. Blackadder never did when he used her in bed.

  Wedderburn kissed her forehead and held her close. “I didn’t mean to frighten ye again.”

  “Ye didn’t.”

  “Then tell me what is wrong,” he said. “One moment we’re in a fever, and the next ye lie stiff in my arms.”

  She was not sure she could explain it—or if she should. But his continued silence told her he was waiting for an explanation.

  “To Blackadder—” She felt him tense at the mention of the name and stopped speaking.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “To him, I was simply a body to slake his lust,” she said, feeling foolish. When Wedderburn did not laugh or chide her, more words tumbled out. “I was a possession he had a right to use, a woman with no feelings that mattered.”

  Wedderburn still did not speak.

  “I don’t want to feel like that again,” she said in a whisper.

  Wedderburn’s eyes were dark with a violent emotion, but his hands were gentle as he held her face.

  “You’ll never be just any woman to me,” he said. “I want to know you, Alison Douglas.”

  ***

  David watched her face for signs of alarm as he pressed his lips to her palm. Despite what she said, he did not believe for a moment that she trusted him enough to tell him if he frightened her. He cursed himself for falling on her like an animal earlier. He would not forget himself again.

  Besides being a betraying weasel and a royal arse-licker, Blackadder had been an utter fool when it came to this lass. Alison was as sweet and delicate as a ripe peach, and Blackadder had trod on her like a loose bull in the garden. David was determined not to make the same mistake. Though he wanted her past bearing, he must first persuade her that she had nothing to fear from him—at least not in bed.

  He had a choice to make. If she were a virgin bride, it would be necessary to show blood on the sheets as proof that they were irrevocably wed. But she was a widow, and no man who looked at her would believe David had waited.

  His gaze fell to her parted red lips, and his entire body ached with need. Lord above, he wanted her more than any lass he had ever wanted before. But he was a man who had learned to look beyond his immediate wants, to be patient and plan his moves carefully to gain the larger goal, to attain the greater success.

  His cock was painfully hard, and he wanted her hand around it. Or better yet, to thrust it deep inside her. Instead, he drew in a deep breath and accepted that he would not have everything he wanted from her just yet.

  “We’ll not consummate our marriage this night,” he said, his gaze fixed on hers, “but I shall make ye mine.”

  “I don’t understand,” she stammered.

  “Ye will, lass,” he said. “Ye will.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “I’m going to take my time,” Wedderburn said. “Ye will enjoy it.”

  That sounded like a command. Did he really think she would take pleasure in this just because he ordered her to? The man’s arrogance was boundless.

  He tugged on the tie at the top of her shift until the bow came loose and the shift fell open, revealing a narrow V of skin down the middle of her chest. He leaned over and blew on the bare skin in the gap, a surprisingly pleasant sensation that sent a shiver of awareness through her. When his lips followed, making a soft, tantalizing trail between her breasts, she began to suspect his arrogance was justified.

  “You’re seducing me now?” she asked.

  “Aye,” he said with a smile in his voice.

  He continued pressing light kisses between her breasts, while running his hand up and down her side. His fingers brushed the side of her breast, and she waited, not breathing, for him to do it again. The next time, he covered her breast with his hand, and his breathing changed. She suspected this signaled that the gentle seduction was over.

  Instead, he rubbed his thumb over her nipple, sending darts of pleasure through her. When she felt moist heat on her breast through her shift, she lifted her head and saw that his mouth had replaced his hand. Heavens. She let her head fall back. Whatever he was doing felt good.

  When he stopped, she stifled a groan.

  “Let’s slip this off,” he said, inching the hem of her nightgown up her thigh.

  Her breathing grew shallow as his hand slid up her bare thigh, then hitched when he gripped her hip. He eased his hold at once and cast a worried glance at her face. What he saw there must have reassured him. She caught the satisfied glint in his eye before he pulled her up and gave her a long, lingering kiss.

  The kiss distracter her, and the next thing she knew he’d pulled her shift over her head and she was naked. She saw him swallow hard as he stared at her. Without uttering a word, he eased her onto her back.

  When she reached for the bedclothes to cover herself, he gripped her wrist and shook his head. She felt awkward as his eyes traveled slowly over her nakedness. But when his gaze returned to hers, the heat in his burned her embarrassment away like mist under the hot sun.

  “Ach, you’re perfect,” he breathed.

  He shuddered, and she sensed he was fighting a battle with himself. Wild, confusing emotions ran through her. Without knowing what she wanted from him, she reached out to him and said his name.

  “David.”

  He groaned and pressed her into the bed, bracing his weight on his elbows, and his mouth was on hers, hot and demanding, as if he wanted to devour her. He was holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. These kisses were not like the ones before, but hungry, open-mouthed kisses, full of darkness and danger.

  She never wanted him to stop.

  He broke away and abruptly rolled off her. Her skin prickled as the cold air hit it.

  She starred up at the ceiling, too stunned to move, and waited for him to start shouting at her. She had no idea what she had done wrong.r />
  ***

  Alison’s worried expression confirmed his fear that he had been too rough.

  “I’m sorry.” Was he always going to be apologizing to her?

  If he did not learn to control his passion, he would batter this fragile flower. She was so delicate-boned that, even naked, she looked refined. He thought of Gelis, his mistress back at Hume Castle, with her wide hips, full breasts, and strong legs. He had never worried about hurting her in bed. But it felt wrong to think of another woman while he was holding this angel in his arms.

  He swallowed when he looked at Alison’s breasts. They were small and perfectly shaped, just like the rest of her. What had ever made him think he preferred large-breasted women? Her nipples were hard, begging to be touched.

  He kissed her, taking care this time to hold his hunger in check, even when she slipped her hand around his neck. He gently played with her nipples until he drew little high-pitched sounds from her throat that were gratifying but tested his resolve.

  He broke the kiss so he could look into her eyes while he dragged his fingers up the inside of her thigh. Her breathing grew shallow as he moved his hand in slow circles, each time drawing closer to his goal. When he brushed her curls, she startled. Then he cupped her, and her eyes went wide.

  Oh Jesu, she was already hot and wet for him. When he ran his finger over her damp heat, she sucked in a sharp breath.

  “What are ye doing?” she asked.

  “I want ye to find your release,” he said in her ear.

  “My what?”

  He thought about that for a long moment. “Have ye never found pleasure in a man’s arms before?”

  She shook her head.

  Was it possible? Ten years married, and not once? It pleased him that in this, at least, he would be her first.

  When he began stroking her again, she tried to squirm away, but he held her in place and kissed her. The lass liked to be kissed, and he took full advantage of it. As their tongues moved together in a slow, sensuous dance, her resistance melted like butter in a hot pan. Before long, she sank her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer.

 

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