CursedLaird (16 page)

Now nothing prevented him from plundering her treasure. He
stood between her legs, enjoying the view. Moist, pink flesh beckoned to his
cock. The sight of not one hair intrigued him. Shaven clean. His cock twitched
and his balls tightened. Never had he seen such. His urgency catapulted to its
highest level. With the speed and ease of a skilled warrior, he skimmed those
swim trunks off to pool around his ankles.

Struan grabbed her hips and slid her to the table’s edge. No
delicacy came into play. He breached her opening and paused only for a second,
giving her that moment to conform to his size. The heat of her gaze raked over
him. Her nails scraped gently down his abdomen and he sensed he’d entered a
woman who knew what she wanted. The dig of her heels into the back of his
thighs granted him further entrance. He slid an arm under her waist and lifted
her without much of an effort, seating her perfectly on his shaft.

Caledonia released a loud groan of ecstasy. She grasped his
shoulders and her legs tightened around his waist. When she wiggled on his
cock, he knew he was right. He’d found a true
fiadh-chat
to warm his
bed, especially when her nails raked across his shoulders and she bit his lower
lip, playfully without breaking the skin. It set his soul on fire.

He spun around and used the wall as leverage. Harder and
deeper he plunged into her until her juices soaked the upper flesh of his
thighs. Wet ‘n’ wild, perfect for him. He matched her bouncing motion, stroke
for solid stroke. He wrestled from one breast to the other, tugging, sucking
and teasing the tip and well-rounded mounds. He liked the sounds Caledonia
made, especially when his cock entered balls-deep as he bit her nipple in a
tight, yet tender tug. She was not a silent lover, but one whose gasps and
groans fanned the flames of his desire and drove their coupling into a wicked,
fast, hard fuck.

Feeling her inner muscles tighten around his cock, he sensed
her release neared. He cupped the back of her head and captured her mouth in a
rough, passionate kiss. Pounding into her, he sent her over the edge. She
groaned into his mouth as her pussy clenched and her legs locked tightly around
his waist. Her nails dug into the back of his shoulders to the point he sensed
he’d lost some flesh, but didn’t care. It added to his own urgent need for
release.

Yet he stopped.

He fisted his hand in her hair and gently separated from
their kiss. Her wild-eyed look thrilled him to the core. It was all he could do
to hold on for one second more. But he wanted to show her who ruled this moment
of pleasure. He wanted her to know tonight would not be their last.

“Caledonia, ye are mi
fiadh-chat
, mi
fèilleil
fiadh
boireannach
.” He kissed her tenderly, then pulled out until
only the thick head of his cock remained. “Mi
fèilleil fiadh-chat
and no
one else’s.”

Struan entered Caledonia, hard and swift. Though he tried,
he could no longer prevent his release. Her heat gloved him, wrapped his cock
tight and pushed him toward orgasm. Several balls-deep plunges and he was lost.
He buried his face in her hair as he spent his seed inside her welcoming
channel. Breathing in, the scent of roses mixed with a rich womanly essence
filled his nose. Caledonia was the closest thing to heaven he’d ever found.

The way Struan looked at her speared her heart. Sadness and
a longing for an irretrievable era shone in his expression. Caledonia had
wanted to touch him, to hold him, to soothe his despair. That’s what she’d
truly meant to do, befriend him. But lust had gotten the better of her. She
licked her lips shakily, tasting the flavor that belonged solely to Struan. His
cock twitched inside her and she desperately wanted to stay wrapped like this
forever.

He nuzzled her neck, her hair, and simply held her steady in
his arms with the wood of the table against her back. It amazed her that this
man lifted her as if she weighed nothing. When he’d carried her from the dock,
it didn’t wind him in the least. His breath never became heavy until he fucked
her. Just the thought sent a chill of pure joy down her spine to pool in her
pelvis. God, she wanted him again.

What was wrong with her?

She leaned her head back, eyes closed, relishing the
sensations still rippling through her core. Something about Struan got her hot
in an instant and made her hunger for sex, rough and wild. A way she’d never
experienced before. The image of him dressed in neoprene, hot and sexy deep
beneath the water’s surface flashed behind her eyes.

Eyes opened, the sight of ripped, muscled male had her
fingers itching to touch. Not an ounce of fat entered the picture. The man had
a perfect chest, washboard abs most body builders would die for and a set of
arms that felt good wrapped around her. His massive size made her feel small
and petite in his presence.

When the swim trunks had hit the floor, her heart skipped.
Between a solid set of thighs was a healthy portion of cock pointed straight at
her. She’d wanted to fuck him and she’d gotten her wish. His whispered words in
ancient Gaelic etched themselves for eternity inside her brain. The way he
spoke them in his native tongue rolled on a deep Scottish brogue had made her
even wetter. She recognized several words he’d spoken. A few of them she didn’t
understand, but intended to unravel their meaning.

Caledonia shifted and hoped his cock remained resting inside
her. She liked the sensation of total fullness. It was something she’d never
experienced with Kip. She shook that unwanted image from her head. Kip was the
past. This gorgeous hunk between her thighs was the present and she intended to
enjoy every possible minute. Even though the little voice of conscience
whispered it was wrong.
What was wrong with sharing pleasurable sex with
this Scottish god of a man?
Nothing, she decided. Not as long as she helped
him find his way in this new place and time.

She gathered his face in her hands and smiled as their gazes
met.

“Struan,” she said on a shaky voice. She paused and gathered
her resolve. Did she truly want to know what he’d said? What if he’d called her
some sort of whore? She shook that thought off and asked, “What did you say?
I’m not well-versed in the ancient tongue.”

His smile broadened and heated her insides. The man had a
gorgeous smile and a set of the deepest sea-blue eyes she’d ever seen. Running
her fingers through his hair, loosening his ponytail, she noted the rich, red
highlights mixed within his dark-black shade and its length fell to between his
broad shoulders. He was a hairdresser’s dream, yet his was truly natural. The
touch of his fingertips to her chin made her lift her gaze to his again. The
look in his eyes softened.

“Ye are mi wildcat, mi beautiful wild woman. Mi beautiful wildcat
and no one else’s.”

Her heart expanded. He’d called her
his
wildcat,
his
beautiful wild woman. No one had ever said such to her and it thrilled her, but
she wasn’t sure she liked the possessive overtone of his use of
and no one
else’s
. She was not a possession to be owned. This was something she needed
to make clear. Women of his time may have been objects, but she intended to
make it known women of this time were individuals, not property. Looking up at
him, the passionate heat in his gaze gave her pause in her decision. Maybe
right now wasn’t the time for a battle of the sexes. Not while they both
lingered in the afterglow.

Struan kissed her tenderly as he guided her to stand. Her
legs trembled and she had to concentrate to remain upright and not crumple to
the floor. The slide of him from within her left an emptiness she didn’t like.
She snuggled closer to him. His softened cock nestled against her abdomen and
she swore it twitched as if it tried to harden again. If he managed that, it
would be an impressive feat. She bit back the urge to giggle. In her limited
experience, it was her understanding men didn’t recover as quickly as women.

Both breasts pressed into his rock wall of abs. She enjoyed
the sensation of flesh on flesh, hers soft and pliable, his hard and enjoyable,
which stimulated her nipples to remain stiff through the simple connection.
Standing in his arms, she noted his height to be at least six foot since she
had to tilt her chin to meet his gaze.

A low rumble rose to her ears and gave evidence he
represented a typical man. Sex first, food second. She leaned back and met his
gaze. “You are hungry. Get dressed and we’ll go to the house. I’m sure I can
find you something to eat.”

Caledonia stepped away from him. He grabbed his kilt. Struan’s
fluidity in dressing, muscles bunched and flexed, reminded her the loss was
worth it. A smile crossed her lips she doubted would disappear for some time.

When she bent to pick up her swimsuit cover-up, a thick arm
snaked around her waist and tugged her tight to him. She gasped. The solid rod
beneath his kilt could not be mistaken pressed against her bottom. It surprised
her he was hard again. The heat of him cocooned her as he leaned over, chest
against her back, and boldly said, his voice husky and deep, “This is the
position I wish to take ye in, next time we share intimacies.” The tip of his
tongue brushed her ear ever so lightly, driving a spike of pure need to her
core. “Ye have a fine arse, mi
fiadh-chat
.”

He released her as quickly as he’d grabbed her, slapping her
ass with a commanding open palm that set her off balance. She involuntarily
stepped forward to keep from falling. Her ass cheek stung but her pussy hummed
with need. Never had something like that ever thrilled her or ignited her
curiosity as his words and actions.

Caledonia righted herself. It took several deep breaths to
calm the flood of electrified emotions powering through her system. Surprise.
Anger. Desire. Purely physical need kept her vagina moist and ready should he
act upon his claim. Did she want him to? Caledonia slowly turned to face him.
He stood tall and proud, handsome and rugged, the eyes of a sexual predator
stared her way and her knees weakened.

Yeah, she instantly decided. She wanted him to take her any
way he so desired.

Chapter Nine

She closed her eyes the moment her head hit the pillow.
Morning sun beamed through the bedroom window but she knew there was no way it
would keep her awake. Not after the wonderful night she shared with Struan.
They’d raided the kitchen in the early-morning hours then sat out in the shed
talking until the curse interrupted the best date of her life.

Damn curse. She sighed heavily. A low meow caught her ears
and she reached over the side and scooped Streak up onto the bed. The memory of
Struan playing with the kitten on the boat the night before teased her senses
and made her lips twitch into a smile. Gentle to a fault, he’d held the tiny
critter in his large hands and handled him with care.

Mmmm, the perfect man filled her thoughts and lulled her
into a deep sleep. Every ounce of her ached but in a good, totally satisfied
way. Caledonia snuggled Streak closer and gave in to her body’s desperate need
to rest and recuperate.

* * * * *

Daytime was the best time to steal from a fishing village.

Most were on the water by daybreak trying to eke out a
living. Besides, he knew this house and the grounds well. He’d waited and
watched for the exact moment to strike. Fin and Aileen Kavanagh left that
morning in the van. Carefully, he searched the area. The O’Reillys were nowhere
in sight. He snuck past the house on foot, carefully looking in the side
windows. Caledonia was nowhere to be seen. Though his view was limited to
mainly the kitchen, he decided the house was empty.

Where was she? He silently worked his way around the house.
Seeing no one, he continued to the shed. Peering around the edge, he noted the
boat was empty. He glanced across his shoulder toward the house. Could she
possibly be in there? He stood stock-still and listened. No noise. No sounds of
movement, no teakettle brewing. Where was Caledonia? This wasn’t like her. Was
she sleeping in? Was she sick?

He peeked inside the window of the shed. The statue stood in
the center of the room. Odd, it looked as if it had changed position, again. He
shook it off. Eyes must be playing tricks. It didn’t matter. He had a buyer and
now all he needed was the merchandise.

No neighbors nearby made his task even easier. Even if
someone saw him from the loch, by the time they got there, they’d be too late. The
lock on the shed gave him no issues. He grinned. This was as easy as breathing.
He motioned to the driver of his van to back in closer. The moment the van
stopped, two huge goons he hired exited the rear. One pulled out a large hand
truck from the cargo area. The other lowered the mechanical ramp at the rear of
the van. Kip opened the double doors of the shed.

Sunlight filled the small room. Once his eyes adjusted on
the statue, he was even more certain it looked as if it were positioned
differently. A bit more upright and his hands were at its sides whereas before…
Maybe he hadn’t gotten as good a look as he thought. He shrugged. Either way it
didn’t matter.

The tidbit of news and slightly blurred picture he posted on
an obscure antiquities loop had generated a decent amount of buzz about the
find. Several interested parties contacted his private account with bids within
hours of his upload. Substantial bids. He nodded as he circled the statue. The
bidding would close this day and the bidder would be informed where to pick up
his prize as soon as his money was deposited.

“Make sure you don’t drop this,” he stated as the hired
muscle entered the shed.

“Won’t be a problem,” one of them replied in a gruff, thick
brogue.

“Aye. Isn’t as heavy as it looks,” the other interjected as
he tipped the statue for his buddy to slide the thin metal slat of the hand
truck underneath.