by Mary Wine
Torin pressed a hard kiss against her lips while rolling completely over her. He pulled her knees right up to her waist to spread her body wide for his possession. The head of his cock nudged her open slit, stoking the fire that had been burning inside her.
“Are ye a virgin?”
His jaw was set tightly, the effort of holding still making his expression harsh. The muscle along his jaw twitched and his body shook, but his cock remained exactly where it was, only teasing the opening of her body with its hardness.
“I am.” And she realized that she was proud of her purity.
He drew in a stiff breath, his eyes glowing with some emotion that surfaced from deep inside him.
“I should say that I’m sorry to cause ye pain, but I’m not.” A fierce flash of enjoyment lit his eyes, and he pressed forward, thrusting his length into her. He felt too large, too hard, but her passage was slick, allowing him to penetrate her. Her body began stretching to accommodate the invasion, pain nipping along the area that he’d gained. He pulled free. Regret raced through her, a longing for more raking its claws across her.
Torin did not leave her wanting. He thrust smoothly back into her, ripping through the barrier that had blocked his path. Pain slammed into her, forcing the breath from her lungs. It was searing agony that ripped into the most tender part of her body. Every muscle drew taut, her body attempting to arch away from his. Torin held her solidly in place, his body resting on top of hers and pinning her, but he allowed only enough of his weight onto her to keep her still. The rest he supported on his forearms, which were braced on either side of her head. Her lungs began burning from lack of breath. After sucking in a deep one, she blew it out with a soft cry. The pain subsided, leaving only an ache where his hard flesh still stretched her.
Tears gathered in her eyes, making her vision glassy when she opened them. Torin watched her, his dark eyes glittering with satisfaction. She should have been annoyed to see him so pleased that she was a virgin, but her pride didn’t allow her temper to rise. His fingers gently stroked the sides of her head, across her temple and along her hairline. The little soothing motions allowed her to draw another deep breath and blow it out slowly. She suddenly noticed that he was remaining still for her sake, and that needled her pride.
“Go on, then. I’m not that fragile.”
And she wanted to know what was next. Her passage might ache, but the feeling of his hard flesh filling her was what she’d been craving. Hunger was still gnawing at her behind the ache.
“Aye, I’ve noticed that.” He flexed his hips, pulling his cock out of her. The motion sent new sensations of enjoyment through her that chased away the memory of the hurt.
“But I’m intent on proving that I am no’ a savage by nature. A lover does nae simply toss up the skirts of his partner and proceed with rutting her without a care for allowing her body to adjust.”
He was having trouble concentrating on his words. Strain took command of his features, while his thick arms shook slightly. She hadn’t realized that her nails had dug into his skin. Forcing her hands to relax, she watched his eyes fill with need.
“I’m well adjusted now, Torin.” Her tone was husky. His slow thrusts renewed her enjoyment. It was more than enjoyment; pleasure filled her with every soft thrust. Her hips began lifting toward him, eager to take his length.
He offered her a soft growl in reply. But she enjoyed the raw male sound. Somehow it fit the moment. This wasn’t the time for sweet words. She wanted to move, wanted to feel him thrusting faster and harder against her. All her senses were keener, making communicating with words unnecessary. She wanted to feel, not think. Her thighs grasped his hips, and her eyes closed.
Another soft growl vibrated through his chest. She felt it as much as she heard it, because he was still pressed against her. The soft mounds of her breasts were gently pressed down by the harder planes of his chest. Her neck arched back, and he leaned over her, his breathing becoming rough. His hands tangled in her hair, holding her tighter while his body answered her need for faster motion. He thrust deeply and hard now, every plunge sending equal amounts of need and enjoyment through her. It far surpassed the delight he’d given her with his hand. This was deeper and more intense. The feeling of his hard flesh inside her was satisfying the hunger that had begun with watching him swim. This was what she’d craved, this deep intimacy that unleashed so many sensations in her.
He felt it too. She could feel his body quivering, her fingers telling her that his muscles were drawing tight along with her own. Her hips rose to meet his, and she wasn’t sure whose breath sounded rougher, only positive that they were both lost to the same need for each other. Her body twisted and strained toward his. Even being so close wasn’t enough. She wanted him deeper, wanted his cock to fill her. There was nothing but the building hunger in her belly. It tightened further and further, until it broke in a shower of hot pleasure. Shannon strained upward as the delight rained down on her. Her breath froze, and she heard nothing but the blood rushing through her ears. The pleasure shook through her, demanding every last bit of attention. Torin snarled softly when she cried out, his hands holding her head tightly and his body plunging down to impale her with several hard thrusts. A harsh sound came from Torin a moment before he buried his length deep inside her and she felt his seed filling her. The hot spurt of fluid unleashed a second jolt of pleasure inside her, the walls of her passage contracting around his cock to milk every last drop from him. Her thighs locked around his hips, and his hands held her tightly.
Eight
Shannon suddenly heard the wind again. It was whipping up with the onset of night. Her heart began to slow, and her body felt spent, unable to move except for the necessary rising of her chest to breathe. Her thoughts returned in a flurry of disorganized ideas, rushing in to tear at her.
Her eyes flew open as she realized that she might conceive. It was a startling idea, one that she’d not considered in all her musing. But the hot pulse of delight in her belly told her that nature had everything it needed now.
Firm fingers moved along her hairline, bringing her head down so that Torin could look into her eyes. She shied away from his gaze, ducking beneath his arm to avoid his seeing her thoughts. The man was too keen, too able to read her emotions. For all that she’d just given him her innocence, she was suddenly shy.
He grunted and rolled onto his back. But he didn’t allow her to escape. One arm hooked her around her waist and brought her back against him.
“Do nae start with that yet, Shannon.”
He pressed her head down on top of his chest. His thighs clamped around one of her legs to keep her near.
“Yer kilt scratches my skin.”
He muttered something in Gaelic, his arms tightening around her, but he gave a snort and released her.
“That is nae the reason ye are restless.” He rolled onto his feet in a fluid motion, lifting her up as well and setting her on her feet. His strength still astounded her. A tiny shiver rippled across her skin as she realized how easy it would have been for him to take his pleasure without regard for her pain. He was displeased with her now, his expression telling her that plainly. But the fingers curled around her arms never closed too harshly.
“What is? Regrets for lying with me?”
The evening breeze was chilly. It blew across her bare skin, making her shiver.
“I’m cold.”
It was a truth, and it offered her an escape from meeting his eyes. Bending back down, she reached for her dress. But she stopped short when her gaze fell on her undergown. Made of a lighter-colored linen, it was marked clearly with blood. There would always be a stain on the garment too, because blood was impossible to remove completely once dried.
She shivered again, her body cooling down rapidly. There was a soft sound of frustration from Torin. In the next moment he scooped her off her feet and set her aside. He plucked
her underrobe, holding it for a long moment while he stared at the stain. Shannon felt more exposed than she ever had, hugging herself with her arms to cover her nude body. Tears stung her eyes, and she stubbornly blinked them away.
She’d made her choice.
“Give it to me, Torin. I’m cold.”
One corner of his mouth twitched. If he smiled, she didn’t see it, because he gave her undergown a snap before setting it over her head. The fabric blocked out her view of him. Relief flooded her, and her cheeks turned pink with shame.
She was acting the fool but couldn’t seem to control her feelings; they were whipping around inside of her just like the wind.
Struggling to put her hands through the sleeves, she wiggled until her gown fell into place. Torin was waiting with her outer dress, and he placed it over her head the moment she peeked past the first garment at him. It slithered down her body, feeling heavy and confining.
“Now tell me what yer worry is.”
Torin stood, unconcerned about his bare chest being open to the evening air. Instead the man pegged her with a hard look that warned her he was not in the mood to be denied. She recognized the man who had told her he was taking her to the Highlands no matter what she thought about the idea.
Her chin rose, as did her need to stand her ground. “I was cold, and I do nae need to explain that. The sun is almost gone. Dusk has arrived.”
And that was a blessing, because she welcomed its dark folds to hide her expression in. The church bell began tolling in the distance. Torin grunted.
“That is not what disturbed ye.”
He spoke with a quiet voice that was full of authority. He was accustomed to gaining the answers he sought, and didn’t care for her refusing him.
Shannon tossed her hair. “Even if it weren’t, it is the only answer I am giving ye.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. Without a shirt, she could see every muscle where it corded across his wide chest.
Being pressed against it had been perfection…
“Is that a fact?”
“It is.”
He snorted before reaching down to yank his shirt off the ground. He shrugged into the garment with motions that strained its seams. Faint ripping sounds joined the birds whistling in the trees. Torin tucked the tail in with a few hard motions before he reached out and clamped his hand around her wrist.
“What are ye doing?”
He was already walking back to where his horse was standing, taking her along with him. His strides were long and quick, making her hurry to keep pace.
“Taking you back to Donan Tower.” He dropped her wrist and untied the reins that he’d looped around a young tree trunk. A second later he turned and grasped her waist with a solid grip. He tossed her up onto the back of his horse with one soft grunt. The stallion shifted, prancing nervously. Shannon grasped the neck of the beast while staring at the distance to the ground. It seemed a lot farther from the top of the animal than it had standing beside the horse.
Torin swung up behind her, encircling her body with a hard arm that bound her against his body. She was sitting on the horse sideways, and he pressed up against her while gripping the reins in his right hand.
“I’m not finished talking to you about this, Shannon.”
“Well, I’m finished.”
He dug his heels into the stallion, and the beast took off with a toss of its head. With his arm around her, she felt as trapped as she had with her wrists tied.
He chuckled against her ear, and there was nothing kind about the sound. It was pure male promise. A soft quiver worked its way through her; he felt it. His grip opened, and his finger began soothing over the skin of her forearm instantly. The kindness in his gesture brought the tears back to her eyes.
Torin leaned down to whisper against her ear. “Then I’ll have to try my hand at changing yer mind, Shannon McBoyd, for I’m going to know what soured your disposition toward me so that I can smash it into bits that will nae interfere with us again.”
But how could she place a child in the same position she was in? That was irresponsible as well as selfish of her. Taking a lover was all well and fine if she had thought to take some precaution against conceiving. There were herbs that would keep it from happening, but she’d have to ask Baeth for them. Powerful plants such as the ones she was thinking about could be used to kill. They were used in medicines and kept locked away. The head of the house held those keys, her years of experience and proven trustworthiness a critical thing.
They emerged from the trees, and Shannon felt her belly tighten just as it had the first time she viewed Donan Tower. Yet her reasons for feeling apprehension were different now. It was still imprisonment that she feared, but for a far different reason.
Being kept inside the gray walls meant being within Torin’s reach. She craved the man so much, she doubted her ability not to act the fool and surrender everything to him no matter the consequences. Out in the forest was different. He could forget he was a laird there, and she could forget she was the daughter of his enemy. Out there, they were the same as peasant folk who had sneaked away to enjoy each other.
Except that they weren’t peasant folk. Any child they created would be born the child of the enemy because her father had raided Torin’s land. Men did not think of such things. A man could dally where he would and no one would judge him for it. She would bear that burden. It might be her willing choice to be his lover, but a child had no choice and it would be stained with her McBoyd blood. That was something she understood too well.
The moment his horse took to the bridge, she felt eyes on them. The curious watched from the village, and she saw the men on the walls peering down toward them. Her cheeks heated as they drew closer to the gate. Calls went out to tell one and all that the laird was returning. That drew even more attention to them. Boys looked out of the stable windows, eager for a break from their evening chores. Maids looked on from the open doors of the great hall, their eyes widening when they saw her seated on the front of Torin’s horse.
He was their laird, and everyone took notice of his return. Torin stopped in front of the hall, where Brockton had stepped out to greet him on his return.
“Keep yer eye on her.”
Shannon gasped and hit Torin’s jaw with her head because she jerked around to glare at him. A soft exclamation brushed her ears, and then she was being lowered to the ground before getting a chance to shoot a displeased look into his eyes.
“Aye, Laird.” Brockton stepped up beside her, reaching out to gently grip her upper arm.
Shannon shook his hold off with a violent twist of her body. “He said eyes, no’ hands.”
Brockton was startled by her action, his hand releasing her, but his eyebrows lowered, and his lips pressed into a hard line that told her he’d do exactly as his laird instructed in spite of her displeasure. She turned her temper on Torin.
“What means this?”
Torin remained in the saddle, his thighs gripping the stallion powerfully.
“Answer my question.”
“Or ye will have me hounded by yer dog?”
Torin’s expression darkened, but he nodded in a single, hard motion.
“Fine then. I’ll suffer yer dog. Perhaps that’s just the lesson I need.” She tossed her head, feeling her braid snap behind her back.
“Enough.” Torin spoke through gritted teeth. She could hear how much his control was being tested, but did not care. “I care if ye are here and no’ tempting fate by attempting some foolish escape.”
He turned and headed toward the stable. Her temper burned hot enough to keep the night chill from bothering her. Her throat was suddenly too tight, cutting off her ability to breathe. Lined up along the open doors of the great hall were too many maids to count; they were peeking over each other’s shoulders to get a look at her. There were smirks and more
than a few condemning expressions.
She was no coward.
Shannon held her chin steady. Aye, she was no coward. Grasping her skirts, she climbed the stairs and walked right through the parting crowd of onlookers. Let them stare; let their laird make a public display of her.
That did not make her his!
It did not.
***
“That was a wee bit harsh.” Connor Lindsey was rubbing down his mount when Torin reached the stable.
“I thought ye were heading home.”
His friend raised an eyebrow at his tone, and Torin cursed. He was grateful for the fact that he was at last in a place where he could speak his mind. His control was worn thin.
“I’m going as soon as the moon rises, but I’ll admit that I’m thinking about taking Shannon McBoyd with me.”
Torin slapped a hand on the rail between them. He did it with every bit of frustration that was bottled up inside him. The wood cracked with a splintering sound that made the horses snort nervously.
“Do nae jest about her, Connor.”
“Why? Because ye have had her?”
Torin raised his head and glared at his friend. “Aye, and I seem to have no humor in me when it comes to any man, even ye, talking about taking her.”
Connor shrugged. “Ye have always been a one-lass man.”
Torin drew in a stiff breath. Connor was correct. His affairs had been few, and he would rather sleep alone than with a woman for whom he did not have feelings.
“I need more than the tumble. My uncle used to say that I inherited that from my parents’ love match.”
His uncle had considered it a weakness and predicted it would cost Torin a good match someday, because he’d be too softhearted to marry for gain, exactly like his father.
“Well, ye have no bastards because of that habit. There’s something to be said for that. I hear the Douglas has too many to count, and that’s among the ones whom he cannae cast doubt upon.”
“There’s plenty who say my lack of bastards is because my seed has no life.”
