Highland Portrait (26 page)

They were both so lost in the melodies that neither one noticed that Robbie had come in the room.  Upon hearing Stella playing the lute he quietly shut the door and leaned back against it, making himself invisible.  He knew his presence would end the moment and he did not want it to stop.  He saw the music surround her and knew that wherever she stood was the center of his universe.  All life and meaning flowed from her and he was eager to connect to that.

Stella finished her small concert with a lullaby coaxing Brijits tired eyes to droop and weep at the tenderness.  Just as she was reaching the end of the beautiful little song about babies on boughs, Ferghus, awake now, stood up on the bed and barked a greeting at Robbie.  Inwardly cursing, Robbie looked at the dog, whom he had not noticed before, and wondered since when did Ferghus sleep on his bed. Stella swirled around to see an embarrassed smile on Robbie’s face and Brijit immediately jumped up.

“Oh, sir, I am sorry…”  Robbie held his palm up.

“Nay lass, ‘tis good that ye spent time enjoying this music.  Ye owe no apologies.”  Brijit hastily curtseyed and turned to Stella.

“Shall I stay to undress ye, Mistress?” she eyed Robbie chasing Ferghus off the bed.

“I’ll be takin’ care o’ that, Brijit, you may go,” said Robbie swatting at the dog who kept jumping back on the bed.  Stella smiled at Brijit, shaking her head.

“Thank you so much for staying with me, Brijit, you’ve been a big help to me this day.”

“Oh, Mistress, thank
ye!
”  Brijit curtseyed again and quickly left the room, closing the door behind her. Ferghus, jumped from the bed after one more swat from Robbie, circled the room, looking for a comfortable place to sleep..  He eyed the large chair in front of the fireplace but decided to wait until Robbie’s attention was elsewhere before he jumped up on it to sleep.  For now he would curl up on the rug and keep an eye on Robbie.

The room, which had been so full of music just seconds ago, was now electrically charged with silence and the awareness Robbie and Stella had for the other.  Robbie stood at the edge of the bed looking at her, wondering, once again, how it was he came to be in possession of this woman. No words were spoken, no words were needed.  Their communication came from eyes and that tangible inner connection that all those that love another have felt. He knew she was feeling a little nervous, a little frightened, a little incredulous that their lives had changed dramatically in such a short space of time.

She knew he was feeling the same.
              Stella rose and placed the lute against the wall where it had been, Robbie’s eyes following her. Stella was not sure if words were appropriate now, if words were necessary, but she felt awkward.

“I hope you didn’t mind me playing your lute,” she said softly, hoping that Robbie’s generosity extended to his valuable belongings.

“Stella, ‘tis yours from this day forward.  Whatever is mine is yers, lass.  I withhold nothing from ye.”  Stella could see that he was breathing heavily now, that he was as filled with anticipation as she.  She closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the night, floating buoyant on a lake of haunting inner melody.  Stella felt the sensual music of her feminine center, pulsating with that age old rhythm that had been the heartbeat of union throughout all time. Her thoughts drifted to her studio and the portrait of Robbie, the man before her now.  She thought of the bands of passion she had felt at his ghostly presence and felt them again now, only stronger, and richer because now she did not just receive, but she gave in return, radiating love. 

Without touching her, without speaking, he reached to her in supplication and gentleness, willing her to trust him, to let him touch her. He wanted her to come to him, willingly, trusting. 

Stella felt his need, his desire for her to give freely and generously of herself, not because he demanded it, but because it was what she wanted to do.  And, god help her, she would do that.  She would reach across the divide of centuries and mate with this formidable, magnificent man because he loved her and she loved him.

Her voluminous skirts rustling like autumn leaves, she walked across the room and stood in front of him.  He smiled ever so slightly, willing his heart to slow down, praying that he would not burst into flames from her nearness.  She turned, giving him her back.  Robbie looked for a moment at the laces closing her gown and saw them as the door that would yield treasures he had been dreaming about since the moment he saw her.  His body swelled with passion and love, lust and gratitude.  Swallowing hard, hands trembling he touched the silk ribbons, tracing their pattern downward to her waist. Silken ribbons, shy and slight, were the guardians of her body, vigilant in their role to keep her hidden from those eyes who were not privileged to see beyond them.  These shy ribbons invited him to loosen them, to pull them from the hooks that had been such staunch guards against his touch.  He untied the ribbons and they fell away from the hooks like melting ice before the hot breath of summer.  They fell away almost magically, Robbie’s love and need being the password to her body.

The heavy gown released and Robbie pushed it away from her shoulders to fall in a cascade of silk, puddling at her feet.  She moaned with relief as the unfamiliar weight and constriction of the dress slipped away from her.  For a moment Robbie was unsure of himself, unsure if this was a dream or if by some glad mistake the heavens had allowed him access to this woman’s body.  He ran his hands up and down her arms delighting in the softness of skin that was unequaled to anything in his experience. 

Stella closed her eyes and leaned back against Robbie’s broad chest and he bent to her, running his open mouth down her neck to find the gentle slope of her shoulders where he inhaled her scent and kissed the line where chemise and skin met.  He reached to feel the heaviness of her breasts, filling his large hands completely sending fire up his arm to settle in his loins.

He turned her slowly to face him.  He looked at the tender garment, the neckline trimmed in lace, and found it as tantalizing as her skin. It clung to her shape like a film of silk, cut square across her full breasts.  He did not understand how lace could be so stimulating, but it was, and he touched the delicate strands of thread, woven into a design that was so much like Stella, complex and beautiful, with an underlying strength that was all the lovelier for its feminine nature.

He could feel the heat of Stella’s gaze, the faltering of her breath.  Raising her small hands to his chest she lifted her head to his and he took her mouth, unconstrained, knowing there were no limitations on his touching, nothing to check his taking of her, not even she would deny him now. 

Stella moaned as the kiss deepened and she gently pressed him back until he was at the side of the bed.  He sat, sliding his hands down the side of her chemise exploring the shape of her body and feeling as untried and untutored as a young lad.  In his memory he could not discern if all women were thusly built, so exquisitely curved, so luscious. Touching her was like touching a woman for the first time and he pulled her tighter to him until she was standing in between his legs and he eye level with her breasts. 

The silken chemise tempted him, but he would have her out of it and he pushed the lace shoulder straps slowly down her arms. The neckline dropped over her breasts, her erect pink nipples unfurling from the confines and harshness of too much cloth.  Robbie held his breath as the chemise feel away and her large round breasts were fully exposed to his view.  His sharp intake of breath and the parting of his lips encouraged her to push the chemise further until it draped over her hips, exposing her small waist and flat belly.

“My god, Stella,” he whispered.  His mouth watering like a starving man, he took her firm breast into his mouth and suckled and knew this is where his milk and honey would always come from.  She would nurture him with her sweetness and he would drink his fill of her. With one hand he memorized the heaviness of her breasts, and with the other he pressed the chemise completely down onto the floor, running his hands quickly over her hips and cupping her bottom, pulling her even closer to him.   He looked at her body washed in amber lights from the fireplace and it was frightening in its perfection.  Her small waist flaring out over shapely hips, a flat belly and legs that took his breath away. The dark curls at the juncture of her thighs beckoned him and he inhaled the heat coming from her core.  He ran his hand gently down her parted thighs and cupped her curls.

“Stella,” he moaned. “Why are you so perfect, lass?”

She gently pulled from him, and he felt as if his world was rocking.  She could not go, he would not let her!  He pulled her forward to claim her, but she held up her hand, stepping back just enough to cause his heart to hammer in panic.

“Robbie.  Let me undress you.”  He could see her golden eyes burning as she looked at him.

Robbie nodded his head, watching as she sighed and stretched her arms up, the movement swaying her breasts gently, hypnotically, and she began undoing her hair, pulling pins and letting them drop deliberately and languidly onto the floor.  Running her fingers through her hair the thick black curls sprang with joy from the captivity of her braids and embraced her shoulders, curls encircling her breasts.

“Stella,” his whisper was hoarse, barely perceptible to her, he moved toward her, a stallion pulling at the reins.

Stella smiled. “A moment, love.  Be patient, I am yours.”

She watched him now, his eyes the monitor of his growing desire. 

“Stella, I will die if I canna have ye, my heart will stop its beating.” His voice was cracking, his strength being sapped just looking at her.

Slowly, undulating like a dancing girl, Stella moved closer to him, her palm up.

“You have too many clothes on.” In a flurry Robbie began tugging at his clothes as if they were fire burning his skin.  Stella giggled, “Let  me take them off, please, my love, let me do this.”

Robbie stopped his undressing, but moaned, “Aye, Stella, but be quick about it.”

She stood dangerously close, her perfumed body a bonfire of temptation, a glorious conflagration of enticement and he closed his eyes so he could not see her, so he would not weaken.  She placed her hand on his chest and he grabbed her wrist and held it tight.  His eyes were pressed tightly shut, his mouth drawn in a taunt straight line.

“Stella, ye play a dangerous game, love.”  She said nothing but softly pushed his hand away and reached for the pin that held his plaid in place.  She placed it carefully out of the way on the small table by the bed.  She pulled the plaid free and began to unwrap him, the plaid falling free to the ground leaving him with naught but his white tunic and his boots.  Having little patience for waiting, wanting no part of any delay, Robbie pulled the tunic over his head swiftly, throwing it on the floor, never taking his eyes off Stella’s breasts.

She kneeled at his feet and smiled, feeling the heat of his erection, smelling the earthy desire creeping like fog, embracing her and chipping at her resolve to play this out slowly. She knew that Robbie was suffering and that her game was hurting him.  She removed his boots quickly and efficiently, tossing them aside and she rose and stood between his legs her hands on his broad shoulders. 

Robbie could no longer contain his heated need, his desire was unhinged and in the unhinging erased all promises to allow love to burn slowly.  She felt his rapid breathing, his arms reaching for her hips, his hands running down her long legs.

“Ah, Stella, you are made of silk,”  His body trembling with his need for her, he pulled her forward and kissed her flat belly, his tongue tracing the circle of her navel, his hands holding her buttocks, massaging their soft firmness.  She was delicious to his taste, a feast, all he would ever need to be filled.

“My god, Robbie.”  She pressed his head closer to her belly, running her fingers through his hair, massaging his head, gently encouraging him to explore and taste her skin.  If he had been on the precipice before, he was now falling over.  He knew it was time and even if he had wanted to, he couldn't have stopped it, and so he let her presence take him there.

"Now, Stella, now!  I canna wait, I must ha’e ye."  She felt her body ignite when, with a moan that spoke of need put off too long, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to the bed, rolling over and covering her with his body.

As a new universe is borne of eruptions of incandescent heat, so was their coupling born of an explosive power of fiery passion, each igniting within the other the fulfillment of a towering need.  They took their pleasure as they took their fill and in the taking transformed each other.

Chapter Thirteen

Somewhere in his sleep fogged brain Robbie heard the sound of a rooster, unexpected and startling, disrupting his nights rest. He cursed the bird hoping it would quiet its irritating squawk before it woke Stella.  He yawned and stretched and then slowly rolled over, putting his arm around her as she slept, her soft breathing keeping time to his heartbeat.  He moved closer to her gently molding himself to her back and pulled her ever so closer to him.  She moaned softly, acknowledging his presence but refusing to give ground to wakefulness, preferring to remain in her cocoon of sleep. 

He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled the sweetness of her, an olio of scents that mingled like an aromatic millefiori brooch, tantalizing and mysterious and confusing…much like her.  Lilac was braided with the scent of woman and his hands caressed her arm loving the softness of her skin.  She had wrapped the linen sheet tightly around her, to ward off the morning chill but he pulled it back gently revealing hips and thighs relaxed in rest, knees drawn up like a sleeping child.  He leaned into her and kissed the warmth between her neck and shoulder.  Her skin smelled delicious, her woman scent an aphrodisiac.  He could not believe his good fortune in waking to this mysterious creature.  She was at once, fragile, dangerous and ethereal.  His grip tightened.