Highland Captive

by Alyson McLayne

  She didn’t hesitate. “Fast.”

  He nodded. “Look at me, sweetling. Watch me.” Then he pushed inside her steadily despite her body’s resistance and her eyes clouding over with pain. He didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside her.

  He shuddered at the heat and tightness of her sheath surrounding him, yielding to him, but he didn’t withdraw and thrust forward like every muscle was primed to do. He waited for her tensed body to relax, for the breath she’d been holding to finally release from her lungs.

  When she looked at him with clear eyes again, he smiled, brushed back the hair from her face, and kissed her. “I love you, Deirdre.”

  Then he began to move.

  * * *

  Deirdre locked eyes with Gavin as the pain ebbed away, that stunning gaze just inches above her. His body lay heavily on top of hers, fully inside of her, hot skin against hot skin. His scent filled her nose, his taste teased her tongue.

  He raised his hand and trailed his fingers down her temple. “I love you, Deirdre.”

  Tears filled her eyes. No one, other than Ewan, had ever said those words to her. “How—”

  She tried to form a complete sentence, but then Gavin rocked within her, and every thought was driven from her head. She arched her back and moaned into his mouth, pleasure consuming her.

  Every surface of her body tingled—inside her mouth, where their tongues tangled. Across her breasts and mound where his body rubbed so excitingly. Within her soft, swollen center, where his shaft pushed through her flesh with a pounding rhythm that left her panting. The pressure inside her built as heat and heaviness grew in her loins.

  She pulled her knees back and dug her heels into his arse as she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. “Gavin,” she panted. “Gavin. I need…”

  “I know what you need, sweetling.” He dropped his hand to her hip again, angling her so the hard edge of his pelvis hit that nub nestled just below her curls. She moaned as he ground down on her, so tight and heavy she could barely move.

  All she could do was hold on.

  She threw her head back on the quilt, dug her nails into his back and shoulders, and brokenly called out his name. “Gavin. Oh God, Gavin.”

  “Doona hold back,” he commanded, his breath shuddering from his lungs as he thrust into her with more force, his rhythm driving them both onward. “I want to hear you, Wife. I want to see you.”

  She almost laughed. She was in the throes of the most intense feelings of her life and had no ability to hold anything back.

  She. Was. Overcome.

  And then she was screaming as she came apart—her eyes closed, white stars dancing against her black lids, her hips jerking, her core pulsing around her husband.

  He groaned, gripped her tighter, and his even strokes faltered, breaking his rhythm as he shuddered into her. He slammed his mouth down.

  Kissed her. Deep. Mindless. Carnal.

  Finally, their dance slowed, and they stopped moving, other than for the tremors that shook their bodies. The kiss gentled, and they caught their breath. Deirdre sighed, her legs dropped away from around his waist, and her hands released their nail-biting grip on his back and shoulders.

  He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, the ragged puffs of air warm on her skin.

  She wanted to stay that way forever, loved and cherished, even though it was hard to breathe with his weight on top of her. But he rolled onto his back and tucked her under his arm, her front along his side.

  She sighed and snuggled in, laying her top leg over his. Aye, she felt loved here too.

  “Gavin?”

  “Aye.”

  She kissed over his heart. “I love you too.”

  His breath hitched in his chest, making her smile. He rolled to his side, facing her, stroking her hair behind her ear. “Verily?”

  “Aye. And ’tis a good thing we’re married, because if we had done that last night and not married this morning, I wouldnae have been able to stop myself from coming to you again and again. I would have been with bairn in no time—and no husband to blame for it.”

  He grinned, and she could see the happiness and relief in his gaze. Relief that she truly was a wanton—for him.

  She was about to ask how soon they could tup again, when he said, “You would have stayed with me here, as my wife, and we would have petitioned for a divorce from Lewis. Even if Lewis hadn’t been married to Geneen, the divorce would have come through on the grounds of adultery—especially since your marriage wasn’t consummated. It just would have taken more time.” Then he slid his hand down to her belly. “Maybe you’re with bairn already.”

  A note of happiness echoed in her heart. “Maybe.”

  He wrapped her tightly in his arms. “Nothing would make me happier than to see my child grow in your womb. But at the same time…” Dread had filled his voice, and he had to exhale heavily before continuing. “Nay. I’ll not allow those thoughts into our bed right now. Just know how much I love you, Deirdre, and I would welcome any child that comes of our union.”

  Deirdre squeezed him back, knowing that his thoughts had gone to Gregor and his lost wife and triplet daughters. “Me too, love.”

  He rolled onto his spine again, and she settled back into position. Aye, she liked it here.

  “Deirdre, can you tell me about your family and Boyd? What happened, sweetling? What exactly did Boyd do?”

  She stiffened, and he rolled back onto his side to face her. “If you need more time before you tell me, I’ll accept that. But I need to know eventually.”

  She looked into his eyes, saw his concern for her, his determination to help—but also his need for justice on her behalf.

  She stared at his chest, wondering where to begin. Certainly not with Boyd. Nay, she’d have to work up to that. “Before I tell you about my family, please know that I was well loved growing up—just not by the family I was born into.

  “My nursemaid was like a mother to me until her passing several years ago, and one of my maids was only a few years older than me. We played together as children, and she came to Clan MacIntyre with me. She married recently, and I felt like I was saying goodbye to a sister when she left for her new home. Ewan and I attended the wedding.”

  “Aye, ’tis where you were spotted. The person who informed me of Ewan’s whereabouts saw you at the wedding.”

  She stretched up and kissed him on the lips. “Well, now I’m doubly glad I went.”

  “Me too. Carry on.”

  She nodded. “My tutor was a wonderful, kind man, and when my…difficulties…with Boyd arose, he spoke to my father about it. My tutor protected me, and he rallied all the castle folk to watch out for me. They were good people. ’Twas only my family who were…off.”

  That familiar hurt tightened her chest, and she breathed deeply to release it. “I doona remember a time when I felt loved by them or that I belonged with them. I was the forgotten child. I looked different from them, and acted different from them, and seemed to have a different temperament. My mother was cold and critical, and my father was mostly absent. My siblings were all born closely together in years, and they were older than me.

  “I was frightened of horses, and when I was six, they dragged me into the stables and put me onto the back of the biggest, scariest stallion in the stable. He threw me into a corner of his stall. Fortunately, I landed on a pile of hay and wasn’t injured, but if the stable master hadn’t intervened, I could have been seriously hurt.”

  He pulled her close again. “Or killed. ’Tis no wonder you’re afraid of horses. I should ne’er have made you ride.”

  “Nay, Gavin. ’Tis good for me to learn. I’ve been working for a few years now to let go of the hurts from my past, to retrain how I think about things. I want to see myself as you and Isobel and Ewan see me, not how my family saw me. Their opinions of me have no place
in my life anymore. I’m no longer a mouse to terrorize. Perhaps if they hadn’t interfered, I would have grown to love horses. I want to keep learning how to ride.”

  “And Boyd?” he asked. “Tell me what happened with him. Lewis said he was a degenerate.”

  She sighed, her stomach twisting like it always did when she thought of him. “’Tis true. I doona remember him much when I was a bairn because he was fostered to another clan, but he returned when I was about ten. For the first few years he was like my sisters, using his words to wound me. When my body began to change, he mocked me in the same way they did—called me fleshy—but as I got older, his attention changed. He was kind at first, brotherly, and I soaked up his attention like a needy puppy.”

  Gavin growled, and she laid a hand on his chest to calm him. To calm herself. “The first time he touched me in that manner, I was frightened, of course, and embarrassed to tell anyone. But I was also confused. I wanted to spend time with him because I suddenly had a place in the family and a champion against my sisters. I finally belonged. Thankfully, my nursemaid caught me crying the second time it happened and she told my tutor. They made sure I was ne’er within Boyd’s reach again. I was sent to marry Lewis not long after that.”

  “He’s a predator, Deirdre. You probably weren’t the first girl he abused, and I’m sure he didn’t stop when you left. He canna be allowed to terrorize any more lasses. I swore an oath to protect the innocent and bring peace to the Highlands. Boyd willna leave the battlefield alive.”

  She nodded. If not Gavin, someone else in her new family would dispense justice. That was how it was done in the Highlands.

  He kissed her, then rose from their bed and moved to a washbasin on a stand near the window. The celebration was still going strong and would go all day, most likely. That would be good, as then no one would be able to hear her lusty screams.

  She crossed her arm over her eyes—mortified. “I was verra loud.”

  When he didn’t respond, she peeked around her arm to see him grinning at her as he washed himself with a small, linen cloth. She was surprised—and intrigued—to see his body was still aroused. Maybe not as much as before, but…enough?

  She sat up as he poured fresh water over a new cloth and returned to her. He sat on the bed and pushed her back down. “Aye. I liked your screams.” He kissed her and then laid the wet, cold cloth on her mound.

  She sucked in a startled breath and clenched his hand, discomfited but also excited. “Gavin!”

  “Deirdre!” He began stroking her with the cloth.

  “I can do it,” she moaned, bringing her thighs together over his arm.

  “I want to take care of you. Doona be embarrassed. It pleases me to see my seed mixed with your maiden’s blood. Not that your virginity would have mattered to me, except that it meant you were unharmed in that way. And you were experiencing everything new with me.”

  She sighed and lay back, let him stroke her, arouse her. “Not everything.”

  His hand stilled on the inside of her thigh, and she rolled her hips in protest. “How do you mean?” he asked. His tone was carefully neutral. Too neutral.

  She grinned this time and then placed her hands on her body. “I’ll show you.” She stroked them over her breasts, pinching and rolling her sensitive nipples between her thumbs and fingers before scraping her nails over them.

  His breath caught, and she peered through her lashes to see his eyes rapt on her hands. She trailed them lower, slid them down her belly, and pushed her fingers through her curls to play, slowly dipping into her warm, wet crevice.

  “Do you…finish?” he asked, his voice cracking when she bent one knee and let it fall open for better access—and to see his reaction.

  “Of course I do. What would be the point otherwise?” Her finger slid all the way down to her opening, her breath catching now, and then back up to circle the hidden nub. And again.

  After the third time, his hand pressed on top of hers, stopping her movement, and she could feel it trembling. He raised his gaze to hers, his eyes bright and his skin flushed. The pulse beat frantically at the base of his throat. “Do you think of someone when you do this?”

  She smiled, loving the freedom and excitement she was feeling—freedom to say anything she wanted. She reached up with her free hand and wrapped it around his nape, then pulled him down to her. He groaned and came willingly, releasing her other hand as he moved between her spread knees.

  She slid her fingers into his hair, playing with the short strands. “Just one time.”

  “Who was it?” He pushed her breast up, then gently nipped it. “And it better have been me. I want you to tell me exactly what we were doing.”

  She laughed with a breathy moan and cradled his head to her. “Aye it was you, and you were doing exactly this—except you were tupping me at the same time.”

  His eyes jumped to hers. “Do you want me to do that? I doona want to hurt you, if you’re sore.”

  “Aye, Gavin. I want you to.”

  He kissed her again and then skimmed his hand to her hip and positioned her at a better angle. He slid inside her easily this time, closing his eyes and shuddering as he did so.

  He huffed out a breath and opened his eyes again when he was all the way in. “Are you alright, love?” he asked, his voice strained.

  “Aye, Husband. I’m better than alright.” She wrapped her arms around his back and then kissed the front of his bulging shoulder. He was so big everywhere. Strong and powerful, and he’d fight to the death to protect her and their children.

  She couldn’t get enough of him.

  When he began to move inside of her, his strokes long and steady, she kissed and nibbled across to his other shoulder. Instead of a kiss this time though, she bit it and laved his skin with her tongue.

  He grunted, cupped her breast in one of his big hands, and suckled it. She dropped her head back and moaned.

  He made love to her like that for what seemed like forever, content to play with her breasts and tup her slowly, steadily. The heat spread outward from her center as tension coiled within. When she began to lose control, he slowed down.

  “Gavin!” she groaned.

  He kissed up her neck to her ear and sucked the lobe into his mouth.

  “Oh!” she cried out.

  “You’re not the only one who’s imagined us together, dearling,” he whispered in her ear, then traced the inside with his tongue.

  “Verily?”

  “Aye.”

  “What were we doing?”

  “Some of the times we were doing this.” He continued his controlled rhythm down below while he played with her breasts and kissed and nibbled her mouth.

  “And the other times?” she panted.

  “It usually depended on what body part of yours I’d just seen. Although after I saw you in your shift, I imagined everything all at once.”

  “My shift? But you canna see anything!”

  “You can when it’s dark and the candle’s behind you.”

  “Nay!”

  “Aye.”

  A wolfish grin crossed his face, and he kissed her before withdrawing from her body and rolling her over onto her stomach.

  “Oh!” She squirmed.

  He stretched out beside her. “Oh is right.”

  She immediately wanted to roll back and cover her arse, but his hand had cupped her backside, and God’s blood it felt good.

  “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about your bottom,” he said.

  He squeezed, kneaded, and stroked her curves, brushed her hair to one side, and kissed his way down her spine to the dip above her arse. Soon she was arching her back and moaning and panting, just like before. His fingers trailed along her sex from behind and she spread her legs, rocking her hips off the bed, seeking more of his hand and fingers.

  “Aye, that’
s it, love.” He rolled her onto her side and fit snugly behind her, pulling her top leg over his thigh. He dropped his head into the crook of her neck, slid his hand down the front of her body, and pushed himself inside.

  She screamed louder this time.

  Twenty-One

  Gavin clasped Deirdre’s hand behind him as he led her down the steps to the great hall. Midafternoon light poured through the windows set high in the stone walls, and the room was empty of people—unusual, even if the midday meal was over.

  He stopped near the bottom, and Deirdre leaned against him from behind, peering over his shoulder. The feel of her breasts pressed against his back and the scent of her lavender soap from their bath earlier set his body stirring…again. Maybe they should turn around and go back to their bedchamber? They’d been locked in for almost a day and a half. That wasn’t nearly enough time with his new wife.

  “Where is everyone?” she asked.

  “I doona know. They obviously aren’t expecting us for another few days. ’Twas madness for us to leave the bedchamber.” He turned around and tried to usher her back up the stairs, but she just wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled.

  “I want to see Ewan. We can go back afterward.” She slid her hand along the front of his plaid and squeezed that part of him that seemed perpetually aroused around her. “Besides. It feels like you need time to recover.”

  “I can do that just as easily upstairs with you naked beside me.”

  “Gavin, we need some air! We’ve been tupping like rabbits in there for the last day and a half.”

  “And whose fault is that?” he asked.

  “Yours,” she said, laughing. “Let’s go up to the turret. You can press me up against the wall like we did before. That way we can get fresh air, sunlight, and exercise at the same time. Ewan’s probably napping now anyway.”

  He slid his hands down to that rounded arse he couldn’t get enough of and squeezed. “Mmmm. Or you could brace yourself against the battlements and look at the view as I swive you from behind.”

  “I doona know whether to be aroused or horrified by that! You could knock me right over the edge.”