by Eliza Knight
What had just happened? Although it had frightened her at the time, she felt oddly at ease now. At peace.
“Your imagination is running away with you, Amanda Bennett.” Too much time spent with books, and not enough time in the real world, must be the cause.
Time to return to reality.
2
Camden rolled over onto his stomach, bunched the pillow beneath his head and sighed. The bed felt so good, so soft. His eyes popped open. Using his hips, he pressed back and forth on the bed, bouncing. What in the hell? This wasn’t his bed. He bounced again. His bed did not have this much resilience. When had his cousin Thad, who also happened to be his steward, replaced his mattress with this one?
He undulated his hips again and smiled. Perfect for entertaining one of the many lovely ladies more than willing to grace his bed. He grew hard with anticipation and rolled over to stare at the ceiling, imagining all the different ways he could use the bed as leverage…What he saw as he moved shocked him. Not only was he not in his own room, but this also couldn’t even be Dunvegan Keep. Although there were slight similarities, there were even more differences.
He rubbed his eyes, sure that he must still be sleeping. That would explain the room and the mattress. But nothing happened. He was wide awake. Moving his eyes from side to side, he noted that he was alone before pinching his arm. Ouch!
“Ballocks,” he cursed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was wide awake, and most certainly not in his chamber. Camden became further distressed when his toes slid through the thick, soft tendrils of an ornately woven tapestry on the floor. How had they gotten it so thick and soft? And why was such a beautiful piece on the floor for his warrior’s feet to defile?
What kind of place was this? So richly decorated. Had the king himself kidnapped Camden? No, more likely, it had to be the fairies. That was it. Only a fairy’s haven would be so beautifully decorated.
In the dim light peeping through a crack in the curtains, he took in the large, carved oak furniture that so closely resembled his, save for it was much more elegant, and there was more of it. In his own chamber, he had the extra-large four-poster bed, wardrobe, chest, small table and a chair, but his own belongings seemed minuscule compared to those in this room. Added to this were plush upholstered chairs, a long chest of drawers, a desk and more tables. Peculiarly, it didn’t seem jumbled. It actually made his true chamber seem sparse.
Paintings hung on the walls, and an oddly shaped lantern sat on the table beside the bed. With the curtains drawn tight, he couldn’t get a good view of what the room looked like—only shadows and dull colors. He fiddled with the side table, trying to find flint, but there was none. How was he supposed to light the lantern? He picked it up, only to find it wouldn’t move more than a foot from the table. A cord of some sort held it in place. His fingers glided along the length of the cord until they reached the wall. What the—?
The fairies must have been worried someone would steal their lanterns, for the bloody thing was attached to the wall!
He set it down on the table and strode naked to the window with a huff. The curtains were made of a fabric he’d never felt before; it was silky and smooth in his fingers, yet heavy and sturdy at the same time.
“Fairies,” he muttered and shook his head, amazed at all they could conjure up with their magic.
When had he sent out the distress call that would signal them to come and protect the clan? He didn’t recall doing so; however, he had been testing out Willy’s new whiskey…Mayhap the stuff was stronger than he’d anticipated.
Camden pulled back the curtains and was met with another surprise. Glass. Lord, but glass was expensive, and this glass was so clear and smooth. Not the muddied thick glass he’d seen when visiting the king. He ran his fingers over it, surprised by its warmth when his room felt so chilly. It was then he noticed air blowing against his bare feet and up his calves.
He bent to inspect the source. A grate of some sort had air as cold as winter blowing from it. He shivered as the frigid air hit his cock.
“Shit!” He leaped to his feet before his precious jewels shrunk into his body from the icy air. Only a magical spell could make wintry air blow into the room on what looked to be a warm summer day.
He glanced outside and up at the sun. Hell! It was well past midafternoon! Damn Willy! The man’s whiskey had him sleeping the day away. His clan would get a huge laugh out of this at his expense. And he was sure each and every one of his warriors would not be able to contain their mirth, grins plastered on their ungrateful faces, as they waited for him below in the great hall.
Why hadn’t anyone tried to rouse him? Then, it hit him like a mace to the back of the head. This wasn’t his keep. Likely, his warriors were scouring the Highlands trying to find him.
“Blast!”
He turned from the window but then took a step back, his bare arse coming to press against the glass. There were women’s things strewn about, perfume, a hairbrush, jewels and lacy things. Unlike any women’s things he’d ever seen.
A silky piece of material was slung over a chair with the strangest—damn if they weren’t the sexiest—things he’d ever seen sitting on top. He strode forward and picked up the bits of lace. One in the shape of a woman’s breasts and the other a string with a triangle attached. He could only assume what that little triangle was meant to hide.
His body reacted immediately, cock hard and throbbing. He picked up the larger piece of silk. It was some sort of wrap, but surely not big enough to cover a woman completely.
“Mo chreach…” he moaned again.
Camden was overwhelmed by his new surroundings and the highly evocative undergarments, such as he’d never seen before. Touching the silk and lace, imagining them adorning a woman’s flesh…He needed to get out of this room before he spent all over himself. The place was meant to seduce him, he was sure. But what could the fairy possibly want? To see him married? Hell, he’d marry her if he could just get one peek at what she looked like in the silk and lacy things.
With a groan of disgust at himself, he turned back to the rest of the room. Peculiarly shaped things, which he couldn’t even begin to imagine what they were for, lay about the room. Enough. He couldn’t just stay in here trying to figure out what in heaven was going on here.
He went back to the bed and found his tartan plaid wadded up in a ball beneath the plush coverings. Haphazardly, he pulled it over his hips to hide his nakedness. Where was his belt?
“Ach!” All he had was the damn tartan. No belt to secure it into place. Using a method his grandfather had taught him, he managed to secure it without the help of a belt.
For naught, he looked around the room for any sign of his boots or linen shirt, but just as he hadn’t been able to locate his belt, those items were missing too. He rolled his eyes and said a quick prayer for patience. Looked like he’d have to wander about this foreign fairy castle half naked.
Yet somehow, he found the idea of walking about half naked exciting. Perhaps he’d run into a fairy of his own. He took one last look at the bits of silk and lace that had enticed him to wicked thoughts, and a grin curved the corners of his lips. He wasn’t ready quite yet. As an afterthought, he picked up the little triangle bit and tucked it into his kilt.
Time to play with his captor. Now he was ready to search out whoever had played such a foul trick on him.
Stealthily, Camden eased open the door. Humming came from down the corridor, pulling Camden from the room. The sound was whimsical, enchanting, feminine. His hand found its way to the place he’d hidden the lacy bit, and he smiled with anticipation. He took a step into the hallway and headed toward the sound of the soft singsong voice, his toes pressing into more thick tapestries.
As he rounded the corner, he almost ran smack into the fairy he hoped was the object of his fancy.
“Oh my,” she breathed and jumped back from him.
Silky tendrils the color of honey surrounded her face and fell behind her s
houlders. He resisted the urge to reach out and curl his fingers through them, to turn her to see just how far down the heavenly tendrils cascaded. Startled sea-blue eyes caught his lingering gaze, and a slow, delicious smile spread over her full, pink kissable lips. She was covered—rather, uncovered—in a delicious brown silk garment. Her arms were completely exposed, and the front of the gown dipped low between plump breasts. Nipples, hardened into sharp points, pressed the front of the gown. He fisted his hands, forcing himself not to reach out and caress the jutting peaks. An ancient-looking stone necklace hung between the mounds of flesh, stirring something in his memory. He continued his perusal down to her dainty waist and curvaceous hips. Although her gown was long, covering her legs, it was obvious she wore only that—no kirtle or underskirt—and the fabric fairly clung to shapely thighs.
Oh aye, he liked this fairy.
She was just as bold as he was. Her gaze roved over his face, his chest and down the length of him, taking in his bare feet. Camden felt his ego grow as her approving gaze studied him. The woman was positively undressing him with her mind. She had to be the one those delectable naughty bits of fabric belonged to.
“Well, well, you’re early, warrior.” Her voice was a sultry caress to his already heightened senses.
Immediately, he placed her accent. English. Damn if the sexy fairy wasn’t bloody English! Well, Englishwomen weren’t this sexy. They were cold as day-old fish. A crooked smile curved his lips. She was teasing him. Ah, the sexy thing. She only increased his certainty that she was indeed from the fairy realm. Never in his life would he have thought he’d come face-to-face with someone otherworldly—at least not while he was wide awake.
“Was I supposed to sleep longer, angel?” he asked, trailing a finger up her creamy arm, reveling in the gooseflesh that followed in his wake.
“You’re good,” she said, those lips curving sensuously, teasing him more.
If she kept smiling like that at him, he was going to throw her over his shoulder, haul her back to the ornate bedchamber and ravage her, making her scream with pleasure. His cock thickened. He shifted his weight to try to hide the tenting of his kilt.
Too late. The fairy’s eyes sparkled as she took in his length. The tip of her rosy tongue came out to moisten her lips.
“Only as good as ye want me to be.” Camden took a deep breath, and it was only through sheer force of will he didn’t devour her beckoning mouth. Instead, he twitched his cock for her enjoyment, lifting his kilt in the middle with the thick muscle, and watching as wide blue eyes shot up to lock with his, desire emanating from their depths. He was sure his own want and need mirrored hers.
This enchanted fairy was about to make his fantasies a reality.
3
The rock between her breasts grew from warm to hot, just like the rest of her. Amanda had almost forgotten she still wore the ancient necklace. The half-naked warrior standing in front of her had her nipples hard as little stones. If he could garner this reaction from her in a few minutes of conversation—well, more like a few minutes of checking each other out—then he would gain much more from the ladies attending the bachelorette party.
She let out a long, slow breath. And damn, was he ever good. He had a teasing, wicked glint in his eyes. His muscles rippled as he shifted his gait and his cock—good Lord, his cock—took her breath away, especially the way he’d so artfully lifted it up of its own accord. She chewed on her lower lip as she examined the bulge behind the green, black and blue tartan. If that weren’t a gift just for her, she surely felt like it was. Wanted to ask him to do it again. Wanted to feel that thick muscle twitch like that on her, in her…
Lifting her gaze, she locked eyes with him. Steel-gray eyes. Thickly fringed with dark, coal-shaded lashes.
Eyes that only minutes before had danced before her closed lids in an enchanted Fairy Tower.
She sucked in her breath. No, it couldn’t be. But they looked so similar, eerily similar. Still, it was impossible. She shook her head. Enough with this nonsense. Her imagination was running away with her because she was inside a medieval castle.
The man was an exotic dancer, here for a job, and that job was to seduce all of her friends until they were lapping at his heels for just one touch. Lord, he was good at his job, for she was just about ready to strip and beg him to bend her over backward and plunge deeply into her aching, wet, sweet spot.
“Why don’t you show me your talents?” she asked, no longer able to stand the charged silence.
The warrior crooked a brow, and his deliciously wide, full mouth quirked into a devilishly handsome smile. Why was it that all she could think of was to run her fingers and tongue along the contoured lines of his face, nipping at his chin, thrusting her tongue deep within his mouth? Some dancers, for a little more cash, would do—extra services. Maybe she could somehow convince him. God only knew how long it had been since she’d been with a man, and never had a man made her body weep and hum as he did.
“I’ll show ye my talents if ye like, lassie.”
Her heart did a flip-flop in her chest.
“But first, your name.”
He reached out a finger and caressed her cheek and jawline. Her legs quivered, and she opened her mouth to speak, but when the pad of his rough thumb ran over her bottom lip, she forgot who she was, where she was and even what language she spoke.
“Your name, lassie?” he asked in a whisper, replacing his fingers with his lips up the side of her jaw and to her ear.
Oh, dear Lord, she would never remember now…
Chills swept their way through her body like a river breaking through a dam. Instinctively, she touched his arms, running her fingertips along the bulging, smooth muscles up to rippling shoulders and a wide expanse of back, then back down to his elbows. All the while, he teased her earlobe and the sensitive spot just behind her ear.
“Amanda…” she murmured between gasps of pleasure.
He inched closer, the tip of his hard cock pressing against her hip, promising to be just as pleasurable as it was large. She was hurtling toward some unknown place, pleasure taking over. Pulsing heat ripped its way through her veins.
If she didn’t stop him now…She leaned her hips into him, arching her back, bringing her body closer to his rock-solid length. No, she couldn’t do this. She didn’t even know his name yet, and she didn’t just sleep with anyone.
“What’s your name, warrior?”
“Camden.”
“Camden,” she repeated, loving the sound of his sexy burr when he said it.
He continued his exploration down her neck with his hot, slick tongue, settling on the hollow of her throat before nipping his way to her chin, each scrape of his teeth and tongue bringing her closer and closer to the edge. She knew his name—now what was her excuse? All she wanted to do was grab his cock, stroke him until he was as riled up as she was and then let him drive home, again and again, slamming her body against the floor, the wall, a chair, anywhere as long as he kept doing these magical things to her.
Again, the vision of his eyes, the haunting music and singsong voice invaded her mind. She pushed them aside, refusing to let her wild imagination take away this hot moment.
“Are ye a fairy, Amanda?” he asked as his lips teased their way over her own.
A fairy? Ah, yes, we must be role-playing…
“I’ll be anything you want me to be,” she answered, sweeping her tongue along the seam of his lips.
He laughed low in his throat, biting on her lower lip, pleasure mixing with pain. “Spoken like a true nymph, my lady.”
“Oh yes,” was all she managed.
His tongue delved into her mouth, caressing, exploring. Scorching, wet, wicked. She clasped her arms around his neck and rubbed her breasts against his massive, muscular chest, sending thrills of white heat somersaulting through her. She crushed her lips to his, sucking, licking, biting. Desire rocked her body, filling the air, pulling her closer to him and further from reality.
&nb
sp; “Do you do this with all the ladies?” she murmured into his mouth, some part of her knowing that despite the need raging through her body, he was still here to ask her for a job.
“Only those who truly enchant me, like ye have, lass.”
That was good enough for her. She moaned deeply into his kiss, running her tongue along his teeth, lips and the roof of his mouth. Their tongues lashed at each other like two swords dueling for treasure—and the treasure was pleasure.
“And ye have enchanted me beyond this world, precious fairy.” He dragged his mouth from hers, back down her neck. His hands clasped around her waist, rubbing hot, little circles into the small of her back and then lower still until he gripped her arse in his wide hands and yanked her against him. His cock, thick and hard, nestled its way between her thighs, rubbing against her clit.
She cried out, sure if he rubbed against her one more time she’d come. He lifted her higher, delving as far as their clothes would allow them. All rational thought left her as pleasure racked her body.
“Come to bring me to your tower, have ye? I have not raised the flag, ye know.”
“Oh,” she murmured, unable to think, unable to process the things he was saying. Only feeling, only pulsing, throbbing need, aching for more of his touch and kisses. They were going so fast, too quickly…“Wait.” She pulled back, her gaze meeting heavily lidded, stormy eyes.
“Are ye all right, angel?”
“Don’t you want to dance for me first?”
Confusion flickered over his face for a moment. Had she turned him off? Just killed the moment by asking? But then, the look passed and was replaced by the seductive and irresistible sparkle she’d come to know over the last few minutes. Her heart melted along with her body.
