Broken Highlander's Blood Oath (14 page)

“I want you to take my maidenhead and make me yours forever, beloved.” She sighed. “Master.” She sighed again. “Mine.”

Donan breathed deeply as his lips feathered over Analise’s lips. He had heard those words in a dream. “Husband,” he murmured against the dampness of Analise’s lips lifted up to kiss him softly. “And you’ll have to freely give your maidenhead to me, lass.”

“Anything, Donan. You know that anything I have is yours.”

Donan smiled into Analise’s eager mouth as he deepened his kisses and she wound her arms about his neck, lifting her barely covered breasts to sway against his chest. God had not forsaken him as he’d oft times thought in the past. God had not forsaken him at all.

Analise knew that Donan had declared them husband and wife in what he'd called a handfasting. She wasn’t certain that she understood handfasting. Of course she trusted Donan. But she knew for certain marriage included the marriage bed, and a vow-sealing marriage thrust. She would simply have to be creative to receive her marriage thrust.

Donan inspired her imagination, she thought, as he touched his tongue to hers. It was as if he licked her tongue with long lingering strokes. Embers of arousal ignited instantly in her nipples, then crept like warm strokes into her loins. Her beloved could kiss and kiss. She wound her fingers into his thick hair, while her body responded with anxious undulations against his muscular frame.

She appreciated Donan's warm strength, because he was gloriously naked beneath the furs that had fallen to his waist. She could feel the crisp body hair on his chest, belly, and lower, grazing against her gauzy shift and bare flesh underneath. Donan stirred such hunger inside her. She wanted to roll against every inch of him, taste his hot skin, smell his masculine flavor, and fill herself with him.

“Sweet wife.”

Donan nibbled her earlobe, then down her jaw to the column of her throat. Her head fell back over his supporting forearm, while her fingers stroked his chest, feeling the strength and brawny power of him.

She began teasing his nipples with her fingertips as he suckled the hollow of her throat and they moaned as one in deep pleasure. Donan used his teeth to pull the loose collar of her shift down, until one of her breasts sprang free. The feel of slowly being stripped and the act of Donan doing it with his teeth was sensual and thrilling. Analise’s body hummed with small uncontrollable sways of rising desire, while her fingertips explored his lean waist, then his belly, and her back arched as she thrust her breasts up to him for more of his attention.

But he didn’t hastily put his mouth and tongue to her flesh; instead he bathed her cleavage with his hot breath, skimming the inner mounds with his lightly whiskered chin. He nuzzled her deeply as if he inhaled her scent with relish, while one of her hands caught his head, pressing him to her, and she moaned. Her nipples felt like two small bites on the tips, while her hips undulated with the motions of mating and she pressed her mound into Donan’s thigh.

“You smell of woman and heat, sugar lass. You feel of warm soft love.” Donan’s voice rumbled between her cleavage sending vibrations to the tips of her nipples, adding pulsating aches.

“I want you.” She had no poetry of words, only the rising hunger of her need.

“Tell me where, wife. Tell me where you want me.”

“Everywhere,” she pleaded. “Husband, you make me ache so.”

Analise felt Donan’s pleased chuckle against her flushed skin as he rubbed his whiskered cheek against the roundness of her breast, following the curve up to her nipple. Once there, he rasped the tip, making her gasp in pleasure, while his hands settled warmly over her buttocks, and he pulled her mound tightly into his thigh.

“Oh, Donan-Donan,” she moaned.

The pressure of his thigh against her sex made it glisten with pleasure and the grinding motions made the exquisite aching she was feeling twist deeper.

“Och, sweet one, you are warming my thigh. I want you on my mouth. Over my face, Analise.”

“Donan,” she whimpered, as Donan’s carnal desires stroke through her mind and body.

“Up with you, lass. Give me your honeyed pussy to lick.”

Donan lifted her so strongly by his arms, urging her to crawl up his body, while his hands lifted the wispy shift she wore up over her buttocks. The action of crawling over Donan’s heated masculine body, and the thoughts about where she was going to pose her body freely over him, made burning lust tremble through her.

It was so naughty and so exciting to straddle Donan’s face as he gazed up at her with torrid desires searing his darkening gray eyes.

This was the loyalty of a wife,
she thought, gazing down at Donan, feeling the heat of him warming her inner thighs as his hands clasped her naked buttocks and he pulled her down, while still fiercely gazing up at her. Her knees slid and the hair on his upper chest brushed the back of her thighs, while his head lifted, and he murmured deeply, “I feel the wetness of your desire for me, wife. I feel your need.”

“Oh,” Analise sighed, and then Donan’s tongue was on her pussy, making her gasp and clutch his head.

He licked her as if he were tasting her and savoring her intimate flesh. The feeling of it was so wonderful, and so thrilling, she couldn’t keep her hips still. She wanted more. She wanted to feel more—and faster.

Then it was as if she rode Donan’s tongue, while he encouraged her wanton undulations with his hands on her bare buttocks. He pushed and pulled her body, using her bottom cheeks as his leverage, while his tongue played wickedly and fast between the lips of her pussy.

“
Oh,
” she moaned, grinding over his mouth, and then he licked the entrance to her sheath, making her pant with exquisite pleasure. He sounded as if he was ravenous as he growled and licked her even more demandingly. “Yes!” she cried.

“Mate my tongue,” he rasped, with his mouth full of her heat.

“Donan!” Analise cried, gazing down at him, trying to see through the blurring of her arousal.

Then suddenly, his tongue fully entered her, and she gasped with raw pleasure rushing through her. Without one breath between his tongue's thrust, and then next, they gyrated against each other. Once again, he plunged his tongue inside her, and she rode it with jerking hips as if she were astride a stallion. Her cries of ecstasy became stronger and deliriously high-pitched.

The pleasure inside her turned into demand, as she bounced up and down on Donan’s thrusting tongue. Suddenly at the peaking moment, Donan growled, and the heat and sound of it rumbled through her loins. But at that same moment, he lifted her up and away from his tongue and mouth.

She cried out, begging him with incoherent sounds not to stop.

His voice was commanding her, but through the roar of passion and need in her ears, she couldn’t hear him.

Donan lifted Analise at the same time he sat upright. She slid down his chest and he used one hand to raise his stiff erection, fitting it to her lowering sheath. The momentum caused a stabbing motion as the weight of Analise’s body impaled her on his cock. She cried out in pleasure, at the same time he groaned with it.

Then he felt it, clawing over his hard shaft; Analise’s inner muscles with her hot and wet sheath rolling in trembling climaxes over his engorged shaft.

“
Ah
, Christ, wife,” he groaned, lifting her buttocks to pull her down again over his jutting erection. “Oh Christ, that’s it, Analise. Ride me. Take me, lass!
Oh
God.”

“Yes, Donan,” she whimpered.

She used her heels locked behind his buttocks to lift and pull herself onto his shaft, faster and faster. Her arms clutched his neck and her breasts rubbed wildly over his chest, as their rhythm grew more intense. The feel of her was slippery, hot, and gripping around his erection with each downswing, while his cock enlarged with the imminent beat of release.

The way inside was so warm and tight, it urged his arms to more frantic pumping, lifting, and lowering of Analise, while she straddled his thrusting cock, passionately whimpering.

Then the woman that was his love and his life began to grind harder with rising and frenzied needs of her own, and he felt her woman’s sheath snatching his shaft with constricting grips, over and over.

“Nightingale,” he bellowed.

“Eagle,” she cried.

And as husband and wife, they became as one, shuddering against each other, until in her damp hair, he whispered, “You make a man of me, love, you make me whole.”

And she whispered to him, “Husband, you make me whole too.”

Chapter Fourteen

Shancy stood outside Cheval’s tent in the dark. He looked closely at the closed flapped, shook his head, and then he turned away. He took two steps, and then he turned back toward Cheval’s tent once again. His hand ground through his tawny hair as he stared at the flap once again. He wasn’t there for a fuck, but to apologize for a near one, he thought with irritation. Aye but he wanted another near fuck, to be sure.

“Nay,” he grumbled.

He needed to get those thoughts out of his head. He needed to find pretty and flowery talking now, not raw heated prose. Aye, and hadn’t he always been fair at sweet-talking the ladies? So where was his glib tongue when he needed it?

He was certainly glad to see Cheval with her spirit returning to her, as she'd shown in the scene inside the Abbey. Aye, the lass had a sharp tongue and wit to her. Shancy smiled at that, then he suddenly remembered the feel of her beneath his hands. Why couldn’t he forget it? Wasn’t it just a simple interlude?

“Nay,” he muttered.

Nothing about being with Cheval was simple. He still wondered why it had happened, and why he wanted it to happen again. Och, and yet again. Then he wondered why she'd run from him, and why since then she'd treated him as though he was an unwanted relative by her side.

She’d nipped and pecked at him every chance she’d gotten, as if they were entered in a challenge of sorts, which he was unaware of.

He cleared his throat, praying his silver-tongue wouldn’t fail him.

“Cheval?” he called, to the closed tent flap. “Cheval, tis Shancy, lass. Might I speak to you?”

“No, my lord.”

Shancy gritted his teeth at Cheval’s softly called negative answer. What in the bloody hell was he to do now, especially when he felt like taking the wee lass over his knee and spanking some sense into her, until she saw things his way. There was no way in hell he was going to offer her an apology, while standing outside her tent like a fool for all to see and hear.

“Oh!” It was Cheval's gasp inside the tent.

The sound was so sharp and sounded alarmed that Shancy swiftly tugged open the tent flap, rushing inside, half expecting to see the red knight. “
What
is it?”

His shout broke off loudly in the silence inside of the tent as his gaze lighted on Cheval lying atop the bedding furs, while clutching her rounded belly. A more beautiful setting he'd never seen, as he tore his gaze away from Cheval, to check all corners of the tent for intruders.

The way was clear, and his eyes turned back to Cheval. Her thin shift was torn and falling to nearly the tip of her nipple on one side, while her yellow-blond hair fell over her shoulders and pooled on the dark brown furs like a puddle of sunshine. Her lush blue eyes were wide as if she was surprised or alarmed, and that was when his mind finally fired to the obvious.

“The babe, Cheval? Is the babe all right?”

Without a second thought, Shancy stalked straight toward her, dropping to his knees beside her, while half-heartedly trying not to notice just how much he could see through her thin shift.

“The babe kicked!” Cheval exclaimed in wonder.

Kicked?
Shancy thought.

“Here feel!” Cheval exclaimed, looking excited as she snatched his hand and tugged it right to her warm belly.

Shancy wondered vaguely if it meant Cheval forgave him or maybe it was a peace offering. But then a miracle occurred and all thoughts flew from his mind, except for one.

“Och, I felt it, lass!”

“She is strong,” Cheval exclaimed.

“He is stout,” Shancy declared. “A bonny lad!”

Cheval looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I wasn’t sure I could want him. I-I ... until maybe now.”

“Oh, lass,” Shancy murmured, clasping his hand over her hand on her belly and he sat down beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders. “It will be grand, you’ll see, Cheval. A healthy fat babe in your arms, smiling sunshine at you.”

Cheval turned her face into his shoulder with a small tremble. “You believe that, Shancy?” she asked in a whisper.

Shancy dropped his chin to the top of her head, tightening his arm around her.

“Aye I do, and you have your sister with you now. And Donan too. They are husband and wife, and that means the whole clan is with you.” Shancy paused, taking a deep breath. “And me, lass. Cheval, you’ve got me.”

“I am
not
wanton,” she exclaimed softly, with her body shuddering as she nuzzled into his neck.