by Mary Wine
For the moment she dominated him, setting the pace. Pleasure rekindled inside her, growing with every downward motion. But Torin wasn’t still; he rose off the bed to meet her each time she came down onto his length. The sound of their breath growing labored filled the bedchamber, but she was most fascinated by the look on his face.
He was enjoying the view. Harsh and primal, his gaze roamed over her body. Moving from her face to her breasts, watching them bounce with each downward plunge. But his attention didn’t remain there; it slid lower, until his dark eyes were focused on her mons, watching his cock disappear inside her.
“Sweet Christ, I could die here and never regret it.”
He reached out and sent a finger between the folds of her sex toward her pearl. Her thighs quivered, breaking her rhythm when he found that sensitive nub. A soft chuckle rumbled up from his chest. Shannon bit her lower lip and continued riding him. His eyes glittered with challenge, one she was eager to meet.
But it became a battle of wills. He fingered her, sending intense sensation spiking through her. She increased her pace, rising and falling faster. His cock felt like it was growing even harder, and a muscle began to twitch along the side of his jaw too. But his eyes locked with hers, each of them intent on pushing the other into climax first. A moan rose from her throat, and the intense burning his finger was coaxing from her flesh consumed her. Coupled with his hard member filling her, a burst of pleasure loomed closer and closer, refusing to be resisted. She gripped his hips tighter between her thighs and moved faster, pumping her body quicker. His nostrils flared and his lips thinned, until his teeth flashed at her.
“Ye have too much instinct and use it too well, Shannon.”
For all that he looked like he was at her mercy, Torin was anything but. He surged up, clamping his arms around her to bind her to his body. The bed shook violently as he turned and they both landed back on its surface. Only now, he was on top of her, his length still buried deep inside her. His hands moved to her hair, threading through the strands until he framed her face.
“Too well, for I have exhausted my restraint.”
The bed shook again. Torin took command of their pace with a fury. His hips moved in hard, rapid thrusts that drove the breath from her. Shannon heard her cries but could not even think to bite them back. There was too much pleasure coursing through her, too much enjoyment of every hard plunge to contain it. The only thing to do was meet him on every thrust and clasp his hips between her thighs. Rapture broke through her, deeper and stronger than it had the first time. It ripped through her belly, the walls of her passage tightening around the hard flesh tunneling into it. Torin stiffened, his body bucking frantically for a moment before she felt him begin to spill his seed deep inside her. She actually felt the hot spurt of his release, and it caused another tremor to move through her womb. She lost the ability to think, her mind shutting down while her lover collapsed on top of her.
Her eyelids lifted later, but she wasn’t sure how much time had passed.
Somehow, in spite of the night chill, Shannon discovered her skin coated in sweat. Every muscle she had felt too exhausted to move, even a little bit. The bed was a welcome support against her back, and her eyelids wanted to flutter closed while she waited for her heart to slow down.
She could hear Torin’s rough breathing in the dark, just a mere whisper, but with her heart slowing, her ears detected the soft, raspy sound. A shiver rippled across her skin. She realized that the shutters were still open, allowing the night breeze to brush across her bare skin. It also allowed the moonlight inside. The silver glitter illuminated one shoulder and leg of her partner. A soft sigh passed her lips as she relived that first night she had watched him.
He suddenly rose up, propping an elbow against the bed and placing his head in his open hand.
“Come here, Shannon.”
He didn’t wait for her to comply but slipped one arm beneath her waist and pulled her toward him. Another little muttered sound of enjoyment escaped her lips because he felt so good against her. His skin was warm, and he hugged her close against his body, pressing his front against her back.
“No.”
He made a soft sound of frustration, his arm tightening around her waist. While his arm was around her waist, his elbow was bent, allowing his hand to cup one breast. His fingers teased the nipple, toying with it while he nuzzled against her neck.
“I will sleep in my own chamber.”
His feet closed around hers, locking them in place.
“Torin—”
“I enjoy the sound of my name on yer lips.” His hand left her breast to brush down across her belly to the curls on the top of her mons.
“Torin, stop.”
His fingers remained in the silky hair, petting the curls but venturing no lower. She heard him grunt with disapproval.
“Do not deny that ye enjoyed my touch now.”
She squirmed but gained no distance from him. “I wish to sleep in my own bed.”
“Yet it is not yer bed, but another one that I own, so what is the difference?”
Shannon sent her elbow backward, but all she gained was a chuckle.
“The difference is that I wish to sleep alone.”
“Humm…” His lips pressed a soft kiss against her neck and then another. A shiver raced down her body, and her bottom wiggled ever so slightly against his hips, where his cock was still half erect. It was pure reaction, something her body did without consent from her logical thoughts.
“Release me, Torin.”
“I think no’.”
She wiggled, arching against his hold only to have him sigh against her ear.
“Lovers do more than couple, Shannon.”
She froze because there was a note of tenderness in his voice that enticed her. It combined with the warmth of his body, making it impossible to resist. His fingers stroked across her belly on their way back to her breast once more.
“Lovers enjoy lying with one another, sharing their warmth.” He cupped her breast once more, sending another shiver of enjoyment down her body. “There are too many nights that we must suffer cold, lonely beds. Why be in a hurry to experience that?”
His voice was sultry, tempting her to do exactly as he said. Her will to argue was crumbling like a riverbank during a spring flood, the ground giving way to the force of the water. His chest rumbled behind her as he chuckled.
“Ye shouldn’t be amused by me.” And she shouldn’t sound so wounded, yet she did. Her emotions were suddenly so tender, it hurt to think. All she wanted to do was sink down into the night with his arms cradling her and savor the feeling of his arms around her. She hadn’t realized that she was as lonely as she was in her own bed. Now that she had a comparison, she understood, and the difference was stark.
“Can I nae find enjoyment in yer company as well as yer flesh, sweet Shannon? Would that not be kinder than releasing ye to seek out a bed that is cold, with regrets for the passion we just shared?”
“Perhaps it is best if both of us recognized that the passion between us is wrong.”
His fingers began pulling on her nipple once more. The sensitive tip was soft now, and he gently tugged it out, milking the soft skin. A gasp lodged in her throat as delight bled over the tender peak and into her core.
“It feels very right to me.”
Her body agreed, the nipple growing hard between his fingers. She could feel his cock hardening against her bottom too.
“What is yer worry, Shannon? Do ye hate my blood so much?”
“Nay.” She answered too quickly, knocking her head against his jaw as her body erupted with denial. He tightened his arms about her, while a harsh sound came from his lips.
“Then explain.” His voice was muffled in her hair. She heard him inhale against the loose strands and sigh. That little sound defeated her. Lying with him was a del
ight, and one that she knew the opposite of all too well.
The chamber down the stairs would be cold. It would be more than the chill of the night too. It would be the loneliness that would be so difficult to bear. Here, there was the warmth of her lover. In spite of her fears, she could not reject the kindness. The reason was simple: Torin didn’t have to hold her. He’d had what she’d always heard men wanted from women, and yet he wanted her to linger in his bed. His cock was erect now, pressed up against her bottom, and he did nothing to gain entry to her. Instead he nuzzled against her hair some more before blowing out a long breath.
“I’ll not be forgetting, Shannon, yet I suppose I need understand that trust is not something that grows quickly. I’ll wait for ye to tell me.”
His words brought tears to her eyes. Becoming his lover hadn’t meant that she expected him to care how she felt, not in her heart, anyway. It was too tempting to sink down into the moment and allow it to surround her.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about the rougher edges of life.
Nine
Shannon awoke alone in Torin’s bed. She tried to leave the bed quickly but discovered herself pinned by the heavy coverlet. It was tucked beneath the mattress and her body, like a mother would tuck a blanket about a child. Her own body weight made it hard to loosen.
The man truly was part night specter, for he moved too silently and too gracefully. She should have awakened when he left the bed. A soft snarl crossed her lips when she made it out of the bed. It was a huge one, with large posts that supported the frame. Each of those posts was carved like a lion’s foot. She couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship. Her father didn’t have anything so fine.
The shutters were still open, and the morning air blew across her bare body. Her undergown was lain over a chair, and she reached for it, eager to cover her nudity. It wouldn’t be so simple to banish the other signs of her tumble into passion again.
Yet she would deal with her guilt once she was away from the chamber.
The stairs were mercifully empty when she peeked out of the chamber door. Her bare feet made no sound as she hurried toward her own chamber. Reaching for her comb, she began the process of bringing order to her hair. She craved a bath but refused to walk below looking like she had just been tumbled.
Even if that was the truth.
Her hand shook and tears stung her eyes because she could not deceive herself. She lacked the resolve to ignore Torin. Her well-thought-out reasons crumbled when he touched her.
Finishing with her hair, she dressed without stopping to consider what she’d done last night. The sun was rising along with her new thinking. If she could not resist the man, she’d have to see to her worry in another manner.
“There ye are.” Baeth looked slightly flustered, which was a surprise, for the head of house always seemed so sure of herself.
“The laird is waiting on ye.”
“Why?”
Baeth fixed her with a narrowed stare for answering her summons with a question. When the laird called, no one questioned his command. “I’m his head of house, nae his mother, lass. Come, and hurry.”
Torin was waiting for her on the front steps. Several of his retainers stood nearby. A smile curved his lips when she appeared, and he stretched out a hand toward her.
“There is still much merriment in the village. Let’s go and enjoy the music before spring becomes full of planting and chores.”
She hadn’t expected the invitation, certainly hadn’t expected the laird to spend his day with her.
“Ye don’t have to… to…”
“I want to, lass, so I hope ye’ll take a chance and see if ye enjoy my company as well.” He mounted his stallion and held out a hand for her. He lifted her easily up behind him.
“Besides, lass, I confess to enjoying the feeling of ye clinging to me, and this was the only way I could think to gain it again before nightfall.”
She smiled against his shoulder, unable to resist being charmed by the moment. His men followed them out of the courtyard, the clatter of the horses’ hooves on the bridge a happy one for a change. She held on to Torin and felt his heartbeat. She moved in unison with him and the stallion. In the distance, the maypole was still standing tall in the morning air. The bright streamers were interlaced from the top to the bottom of the pole; she suddenly felt a stab of regret for what she had missed yesterday.
But Torin had told the truth. There was still a bustling fair clustered about the maypole. Music and laughter drifted to her ears. There were scents of roasting meat in the air. A cheer went up when Torin rode closer, his people lifting their hands in welcome.
Torin pulled his horse up and patted the animal on the side of its neck. The horse lowered its head, obviously understanding what his master wanted. Torin swung his leg over the lowered head of the beast. He landed on the ground in almost the same moment, offering her a smile of enjoyment when he lifted his face toward her. He reached up and placed a hand on either side of her waist to lift her down.
“The ale is good, Laird!”
The music was louder here, and it was indeed merry. The pipers kept a lively rhythm while a couple of boys worked their hand drums. There was dancing around the maypole, with young and old all taking the time to enjoy the music. The girls still wore their hair loose and decorated with new spring greens. Even the boys had wreaths crowning their heads to welcome spring. The girls danced with enough passion to raise their skirts, and their partners happily encouraged them to dance even more.
“Here now, Shannon. It is not springtime without a bit of ale.” Torin sounded more relaxed than she could recall him being outside of his bed.
“Whisky!”
It was his retainers who shouted for stronger drink than ale. Torin lifted one eyebrow before tossing a coin toward them.
“If that’s what it takes to get ye to leave me alone with a pretty lass, so be it.”
His men laughed before walking off toward a tent with a table and chairs where the merchant was selling whisky. A pretty girl was bringing the strong liquor to the men, and Torin’s retainers sat down with grins on their faces. The girl offered them a saucy wink along with the whisky.
“That should give us an hour of peace.” He shrugged and rolled his shoulders.
“But I wonder if they will not be more vexing when they have drained their whisky cups.”
He began laughing. “Ye seem to be understanding McLerens, Shannon McBoyd.”
Two women nearby turned abruptly at the mention of her last name. Torin jerked his head around to stare at them, and they went back to what they’d been doing.
“Ye don’t need to do that.” Shannon kept her voice low. “I expect it.”
“I disagree.”
“Well, obviously ye do…” Shannon clamped her mouth shut. Her voice was rising, and Torin was enjoying it. He captured her hand and pulled her along the row of tents that housed merchants selling food and whisky. People nodded toward him with pleasant greetings, most of them reaching up to tug on the corner of their knit bonnets or inclining their heads.
They all looked at her with curiosity, but Torin kept her close. She couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. He was placing a great deal at risk by making it known that he sheltered her. Clan fighting was remembered for generations, yet he boldly strode through the market fair with her hand locked in his.
Just like everything the man did, he was attacking something he viewed as an obstacle.
“Ye have to be the only woman in Scotland who becomes annoyed when a man tries to share a bit of ale with her.” Torin lowered himself onto a bench and patted the spot next to him. “Come, Shannon. I dare ye to sit beside me.”
She was in the seat before she thought about it. Torin laughed at her, his chuckles drawing looks from those around them. Her lips twitched up because she couldn’t ignore the humor in the m
oment.
“Laugh if you like, but being the daughter of a laird has its price too. I was nae allowed to drink ale with men, and I’d think yer own sisters would be raised with the same rules to safeguard their virtue for marriages that would benefit the clan.”
Torin nodded, but there was a flash of something in his eyes that looked like compassion. “Aye, the world is demanding of a laird’s family, no question about that. We’re more alike than ye think, Shannon.”
Maybe… She couldn’t help but agree with him, at least silently, but she lowered her eyelashes because it felt as though the man were reading her thoughts.
A set of dice sat on the table, and she reached for them.
“At last, a chance to best ye,” Shannon announced.
Amusement suddenly surrounded her as men turned and pulled their chairs up to join them at the table. Two mugs of ale were delivered by an apple-cheeked girl while the newcomers rubbed their palms together. Shannon bit her lip, the dice frozen in her hand. Each person near her now had silver to bet on their roll, but she had nothing to wager.
“Go on, lass; let’s see if ye know anything about tossing dice.”
Torin tossed some silver on the tabletop, and the men eagerly chuckled.
It wasn’t her coin, but everyone was waiting on her to begin the game. She suddenly forced the lump in her throat down and rolled the dice. If she won, the money would be Torin’s, that was all.
The game began with fury. Women leaned in to see who was winning, cheering for their choice. But the dice played a wicked game with them all, bestowing victory once before moving on to another player the next throw. It kept the money evenly flowing around the table, with no one gaining too much over another. That set a jovial mood that took control of them all. Shannon never realized when she finished off the ale brought to her, or when it was replaced with a second measure.
“Enough, lass! I’ve shared ye long enough, and now I’m feeling selfish.” Torin scooped up their silver and dumped it back into his pouch before reaching for her hand.
