Did the lass sleep without a shift? William let out a small groan. The smell of fresh lavender and Emma permeated the room.
The memory of their kiss in her bedchamber floated to his mind. It had only been last evening, but it seemed so far away. Too far away.
It would be best for him to bathe quickly, and get some rest himself. He moved behind the screen and took off his road-dirty clothes. He noticed Emma had thoughtfully arranged for him to have his own fresh bath water. It was a luxury he didn’t expect but was surely glad for. He sank into the water, with a sigh. Thankfully it was still warm.
He reached down and tugged the length of his shaft. Thoughts of her caused him to stiffen in his hand, his length growing and responding to his own touch. He knew he should push the feelings about the lass and her body aside, there would be enough time for passion once they were wed. Now, he should be worried about their safe passage, and nothing else.
But riding for so long across the dark countryside, with her soft curves pressed up against his body, and now with her delicate, clean silhouette so close with nothing but a simple screen separating them, it was more than he could stand.
Emma let out a small whimper from her place on the bed, and William froze, mid-stroke; water splashing over the side of the tub. The last thing he wanted was to wake the lass. But the sweet sound of her moans did something more to him, beneath the water. He closed his eyes and leaned back, and safe in the assumption that the lass did not wake, he allowed the pleasure of his own hand to continue.
* * *
Emma opened her eyes. It took her mind a moment to adjust to the strange surroundings and to remember where she was. She sat up in bed. The sounds of water, gently splashing, drew her attention to the screen that separated the tub from the rest of the room. William had returned. She let out a sigh of relief.
She didn’t like being alone in a strange place. Her only experience with Scotland thus far had been the feast at MacNair’s castle. She knew the people here did not take too kindly to the English, and she would not be able to hide just how English she was if left to her own devices.
Her eyes were drawn to the screen again as William let out a soft groan. The sound was one Emma had not heard him make before, but it did something to her insides. Her stomach began to coil in a delicious knot of apprehension and pleasure. Against her better judgment, she quietly lifted herself off the bed, silently wishing she had dressed in a night shift.
She wrapped herself in a wool blanket. After her bath, she had been too tired to think of anything other than sleep. She had dried herself as much as possible with the linen provided by the Inn’s maid and quickly slipped under the bedclothes. Even now, as she moved silently toward the screen, she couldn’t remember her last thoughts before sleep had overtaken her.
Emma, this is wrong, it goes against all decency.
Yet she couldn’t stop herself from peering around the edge. William was naked in the water she’d left for him. His hair was dark, wet, and slicked back, yet still hung damp and loose about his shoulders. His head tilted back and his eyes were closed. She thought back to when she first saw him in the bailey of MacNair Castle with his men, drenched in sweat and hot from exertion. His eyes turned toward the sky and closed. He looked similar now, as if he was in a state of pure ecstasy.
Emma clutched the wool around her tightly. She could not take her eyes from him. He appeared to be touching and stroking himself under the water.
How magnificent, she thought.
She vaguely knew about the male anatomy, and at the castle when they had kissed, she had felt the length of him harden against her. She had never seen a man fully naked until this very moment, and she couldn’t turn away.
She knew it was wrong, observing a man in such a clandestine manner when he thought he was alone. But William was so strong and virile. His chest was toned and muscular from what Emma assumed was years of training. She longed to run her hands down his body. She wanted to know if there was a softness to the skin that hugged all that sinew and muscle. William, wet and lost in his own pleasure, was simply beautiful.
Emma closed her own eyes, not sure how to handle the waves of pleasure and tension running through her. She reached down and touched herself at the apex of her own thighs and most secret place. The wool blanket fell from her shoulders, and cool air hit her naked body. As she made contact with the tight nub that held heat and desire, she was unable to stifle a sudden gasp of pleasure. Oh. Emma was completely unprepared for the wave of emotion and feelings that had come over her. She hadn’t meant to make any sound at all. Her eyes flew open, and her hand fell away.
She had been discovered.
William had stopped his own movements. He stared at her. His eyes dark as he rose from the tub, water streamed down his taut body in rivulets. As he stepped out, Emma wished he would say something, chastise her, question her, anything. She was frozen and he simply walked toward her, stopping only when he was so close that the heat from his breath warmed her.
“I…um…you,” she stammered, words eluded her. Her eyes looked anywhere in the room but at the strong, naked warrior in front of her. Her breathing set on fire, she knew she should be embarrassed for spying on William in his bath, but instead she was only mortified that she had been caught. She was acutely aware her own nakedness matched his in the soft light of the room.
He tilted his head and smiled before taking his damp finger and lifting her chin so that their eyes met. “Lass, I’m goin’ to kiss ye now,” he whispered before touching his lips to her own.
Chapter 16
William knew Emma was a maiden. He knew that he had been the only man who had ever kissed her or held her. It was a role he cherished. When he opened his eyes and saw her watching him, he should have taken the time to gently explain how men relieve their pleasure.
He should’ve bundled her up and moved her right back into the bed. But when he saw her—naked, beautiful, and wanting, in the soft warm glow of the day, all his resolve melted.
She was touching herself, watching him.
He crossed the room, dripping wet, in two swift strides. His only thoughts were of his own need to touch her, to kiss her. Emma’s face was so open and innocent. She looked everywhere but at him, and he needed her to see him. To see his desire for her. When her hazel eyes met his, he was hers.
At first, William was careful to keep his kiss soft, tender. But the sweet taste of her quickly created a hunger in him. He teased her bottom lip with his kiss until her mouth opened.
That’s it, lass.
He probed her with his tongue, deepening the kiss. What the lass lacked in experience she made up for in passion. William had never had such a willing partner. Kissing Emma was unlike any kiss he had ever experienced.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed, never once breaking the contact of their kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he set her down.
“William, I shouldn’t have…”
“Did ye like what ye saw?” He growled into her ear, settling on top of her and placing sweet kisses along her jawline, and down her neck.
“Oh yes,” she replied, tilting her head back, giving William more access to her delicate skin. He flicked his tongue into the sweet hollow at the base of her neck and Emma moaned into him. He moved down to the gentle swell of her breasts, moving his hands up to cup one of the sweet mounds into his hand.
This must be what heaven feels like, he thought, taking one taut nipple into his mouth, encouraging her moans as he bit and teased her to elevated pleasure. William didn’t want to rush her, but he needed more of her.
He rubbed her body, gently kneading flesh, taking in all of her. Kissing his way lower and lower, until he reached the sweet chestnut curls protecting that inner sanctum of her sex. He slowly spread her legs, as he placed gentle, seeking kisses along her pelvic bone, and then lower.
Emma gasped and wrenched away from him. “You cannot mean…?”
; He smiled as he brought her closer, “Aye, lass ‘tis exactly what I mean to do. I want to taste all of ye. I want to bring ye pleasure.” He ran a finger slowly between the folds of her sex. Emma opened her legs and arched into him. She was moist and ready just as he knew she would be.
He let out a slow groan. “Let me show ye lass, please, let me make ye come for me.”
* * *
Emma could not believe the sensations coursing through her at William’s touch. When he moved his mouth toward that most secret spot of her, it was pure instinct that caused her to pull away.
No one had ever told her of such an intimate kiss before. Yet she trusted William, and when he asked her to allow him to show her pleasure, she was powerless to say no. She didn’t want to say no. She wanted him to show her.
William slipped his tongue under the hood of her sex and Emma could no longer contain herself. The tension that had been coiling in her center radiated out sending heat and pleasure to every nerve in her body. She arched into him, her hands moving to his head, careful not to use force she kept his mouth where she needed it.
He suckled and teased and Emma never knew that a simple mouth could cause so much pleasure. All coherent thought fled from her as stars of white began to form behind her eyes.
“Oh yes, William, please, more,” she cried, feeling him smile into her as wave after wave of feelings coursed through her entire body. Emma felt as if she were on the edge of a high precipice. She needed William to bring her over that edge so she could soar.
He slipped a finger inside of her, stretching her and getting her body accustomed to the intrusion before adding another, curling his hand up to reach an even more sensitive part of her.
Emma could not contain herself any longer, she released a torn cry of William’s name as her body tightened around him in sweet release. Her body seized and arched. Ripples of starlight flowed through her, wave after wave, and at the end there was nothing left but sated exhaustion.
William lifted his head and smiled at her. He left the bed and Emma whimpered for him, missing the heat he provided her. He returned quickly bringing with him both woolen blankets. The one he had earlier lain by the fire, and the one she had shed as she watched him in the bath.
He settled next to her and spread the blankets over them. Drawing her into his arms, he placed a kiss on first her brow, then her cheek before whispering in her ear, “Now lass, we sleep.”
Emma folded herself into the safety of his arms. She did not know enough to name what had just occurred between them, or rather what he had just done to her body, but she knew there was no one else she would rather be with in this moment. Thomas was insane if he thought Emma would give up even a moment of her life with William to satisfy his hunger for money and power.
She would never leave William’s side. Too soon or not, she may not have the courage yet to tell him, but her heart had expanded. William was a caring, honorable man who only wanted the best for her and to keep her safe.
The thought of a man who had actually acted so gallantry as to leave his own house in search of the truth could only resemble myths about knights in shining armor. Her Highlander was a man to be admired for his ethos and acts and she felt that only a foolish woman would ignore such a character! That paired with the pleasure he had just given her was tugging her down a road she was a bit shy to go down.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, learning the curves of his body as he breathed deeply beside her. She could analyze her feelings after the glimmering glow was gone. Right then, all she wanted to do was rest.
* * *
William didn’t want to open his eyes. There was a bonny lass curled into him and his mind was heavy with comfort and sleep. It was the persistent tapping on wood that stirred him from his slumber. Opening his eyes, taking a moment to remember where he was, who was wrapped in his arms, and what was at stake, awareness came over him as the tapping continued, growing increasingly persistent.
He pulled his arm gently from Emma’s sleeping form, before rising to see to the door, taking all of her in. Och, she is bonny. He tugged on his English breeches and pulled the door open, shocked to find Gregory the stable master standing there.
“Sir, I doona mean to disturb ye, but I thought ye should ken there are men in the village; English men. They are looking for a lass who travels with a Highlander.”
Marston, damn it! He had hoped that they would have more of a lead on Emma’s brother. How had he discovered so soon that William was with the lass? He struggled to keep his face impassive, not wanting to arouse suspicion.
“What would that have to do with me and me wife, sir?” he asked the old man.
“Sir, I thought back on what ye told me of yer people earlier today. I thought to meself, I’ve only heard the name Murdo once before, and it did nae belongs to a Mackenzie, but rather a Highland clan called MacNair. MacNair's are braw warriors, with long hair, dark as midnight, and ice in their eyes. MacNair's look a lot like ye do, lad. So, I thought to meself, could it be the lad, traveling with his wife, at night only, could he be this same man tha’ English are lookin’ for?”
William knew he was found out. He pulled Gregory into the room and looked out into the hallway to ensure he wasn’t overheard. His question now was what did Gregory Mackenzie want?
“If this was true,” he countered. “What would ye be lookin’ for from the likes of us? Will ye be turnin’ us in for coin from the English men then?”
Gregory peered around William and looked over at Emma, asleep in the bed. Then he gave William knowing glance and a small smile. “I doona wish anything from ye, lad. There was a time when the Mackenzies and the MacNairs fought together. An old brain like me own doesn’t easily forget a warrior like yer Da. I’d consider it an honor to help ye, lad. I only came up to see fer meself if the lass was with ye on her own accord, or if ye took her like the English men are sayin’ against her will.”
“Is that what tha’ bloody fools are sayin’?” William ran his hands through his hair. Of course, Marston would make him out to be some kind of brute.
The man was unable to keep his own sister, carelessly passing her off to another man before the ink was even dry on the first betrothal. All for money, or power, or just because he could, yet his men are sayin’ William meant the lass harm. It boiled his blood.
“Aye, it ‘tis. But I can see the lass seems to be fine. I ken ye come from good stock, lad, and yer reasons are,” he smiled again, “clearly yer own, but ye’d be best to get dressed and get out of here sooner rather than later. There be no time for a leisurely meal if ye get me meanin’.”
“William?” Emma opened her eyes, immediately jumping up and covering herself, as she noticed they were not alone.
“Aye, lass. ‘Tis well, this is Gregory Mackenzie. He is here as a friend.” He gave the man a meaningful gaze. “Isn’t that right, Gregory?”
Realization dawned over her as she recognized the name, Mackenzie. Damn, how William wished he could have woken her, gently with kisses, instead of this—with the information that they had to dress and go, hoping not to be seen by her brother’s men.
“Indeed, a friend to ye both, lass. That is as long as yer here of yer own free will. Do ye need help from this man?” Finley asked.
“No, of course not, he is my husband.”
William beamed. Even without really knowing what was going on, the lass still was willing to defend him as her own. His heart swelled. She was a special lass, indeed. “Thank ye fer the information, Gregory. The lass an’ I appreciate yer friendship. Is it safe to come to the stables and see the horses?”
Gregory moved to the window, drawing back the makeshift curtains, and looked about. “I doona see tha’ men who were askin’ after ye, but just the same I’ll take the animals and lead them out a back road. It’ll give ye and th’ lass time to dress. Meet me just yonder,” he pointed out of town to a forested wood just beyond the village. “Is thirty minutes enough time to get yerselves decent and
road ready?”
“Aye, we can, and we will. Do ye ken an owl’s whistle?” The owl’s whistle was a way he and Goraidh would identify each other in the woods when they were wee lads. It was something his Da had told him all Highlanders knew. Hopefully, Gregory would know of it.
“Aye, lad, I do.”
“Good. I will give ye the whistle as soon as we clear the village. Answer me back to guide us to where ye’d be.” He led Gregory out of the room and turned to Emma.
“Lass, yer brother’s men have already found us. We need to make haste.”
* * *
Disciplined by the Highlander: A Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 13
