Highlander's Return: The Sinclair Brothers Trilogy, Bonus Novella (Book 2.5) (5 page)

Meredith settled herself in the hay next to Burke,
her heart pounding. He took her hand in his, his thumb circling gently over her
skin.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” he said with a
nervous chuckle. “I suppose we should get reacquainted again.”

She jumped straight to the question whose answer she
feared most. “Are you not married, then?”

“Nay, I never married. The opportunity never really
arose, but whenever I thought of it, it always seemed like…settling.”

Her heart squeezed at that. “And what of the rest of
your life?” The question seemed ridiculous, but she knew next to nothing about
what had happened to him since the last time they had spoken.

He launched into tales of the battles he had fought
alongside his cousins and the other Sinclair clansmen, of life at Roslin, and
his most recent work for Robert the Bruce. At times he had her gasping in
surprise and fear at the adventures he had lived through, and at others she had
to clutch her sides from laughing so much. He had a way of lightening her
spirits with his warm view of life.

After a particularly raucous tale involving a priest
acting decidedly un-priestly when introduced to a barrel of Sinclair whisky,
she held up her hands in surrender.

“Have mercy on me, sir,” she gasped between giggles.

His beaming face slowly grew sober. “And what of
you, Meredith? I know so little, only that your father and husband have died,
and that your brother is away, to return tomorrow. But what has life been like
for you these past ten years?”

The laughter died in her throat as she thought about
how to tell him about her life. Besides a few brief reprieves, her happiest
memories had all occurred before her eighteenth birthday—and most involved
Burke.

She decided that the truth was better than anything
else. So she told him of her heartbreak at being forced to marry Chisolm
Sutherland, and then the deeper, darker despair of coming to learn that her
husband was cruel and uncaring. One by one, she had given up all the things she
loved, so that a few years into her marriage, she barely left the tower to look
for animals to sketch. She gave up dismissing the maids with whom her husband
cavorted right under her nose, for he would simply take up with the next one.
Toward the end of Chisolm’s life, her days had been mostly solitary and silent.

While she spoke, Burke listened, grim-faced. Though
he remained silent, he gave her hand a little squeeze every now and then.

“And now I am a widow,” she said by way of wrapping
up. “The least desirable sort of woman imaginable. I am no longer a maiden
whose virginity can be leveraged into an alliance, and my father isn’t here to
make another advantageous match for me.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as if she
were talking about someone else’s life. That’s what it felt like. She had
detached herself long ago as a means of self-preservation.

“You cannot truly believe that you are undesirable,”
Burke said, his eyes sliding over her. “You are more beautiful to me than when
I first laid eyes on you.”

“When you first laid eyes on me, I was nearly
drowned and frozen solid!” she said, playfully tapping his wrist.

“Aye, and you were the most bonnie sight I had ever
seen. That is, until I caught a glimpse of you yesterday.” He raised her hand
to his mouth and placed a soft, slow kiss between her knuckles. Even that
simple act made her pulse hitch.

“I don’t mean to sound sour,” she went on, trying
and failing to tear her eyes from Burke’s lips. “Being a widow has allowed me
to get back to my old self—or rather, to make a new self.”

“That’s a noble way of thinking of it. So, Meredith
Sutherland, who are you now?”

She smiled faintly as she thought for a moment. “I
still take joy in catching glimpses of the animals that live near the tower. I
saw a linnet for what felt like the first time yesterday.”

“Did you chase him like you did the fox?” His eyes
shone with merriment.

“Nay, but I have many beastie-chasing days ahead of
me yet,” she replied with a faux glare. Then she went on more seriously. “I enjoy
running the tower—really running it, I mean. I never got to be in charge of
anything until Chisolm died. Now I can get things in order to my liking. And I
enjoy the responsibility of the tower’s service to the clan and to Dunrobin.”

“What else?” he said softly, stroking the delicate
skin on the inside of her wrist.

“I…I want to come alive in…other ways as well.” Her
voice nearly broke as she spoke the bold words. She wouldn’t be ashamed,
though. She wanted to know love again—emotionally and physically.

She watched as Burke’s eyes darkened with desire. “I
want that for you as well. I want you to feel loved, to
know
that you
are loved, as you deserve.”

She was at a loss for words, unsure of how to let
Burke know what she felt for him. But he saved her once again from fumbling
awkwardly for what to say, for in the next moment, he leaned in and took her
mouth in a kiss.

His lips were soft and gentle at first as they
brushed against hers. She leaned into him, longing to be completely enveloped
by his strength, his clean, masculine scent, and his passion, which seemed to
be boiling just below the surface.

He deepened and intensified their kiss, and in just
seconds, she had crossed over into unknown territory. They had never kissed so
passionately—the way a man kisses a woman, not the way a lad kisses a lass. Nor
had she ever shared such emotionally intense contact with her late husband.

This was different. It was raw, filled with deep
passion and hunger. He seemed to be communicating to her through his kiss,
expressing all that had gone unspoken between them for ten years. She responded
with her lips, silently conveying her longing, which seemed to have only
intensified with time.

His tongue brushed hers, sending a bolt of sensation
through her mouth and down her spine. Unsure of what to do at first, she let
him lead, swirling their tongues together in a sensual rhythm. Tentatively, she
met and matched his motions, which drew a soft groan from him. The sound
reverberated through her lips, and the buzzing sensation caused her to shiver.

His hands slipped around her waist, under her cloak
but above her chemise. His warm, large hands pulled her closer to him, so that
their chests were pressed together. The feel of her breasts, covered only by
the thin material of her chemise, rubbing against the hard planes of his chest
brought a moan to her lips.

Without her awareness, her arms had risen and
wrapped around his neck, holding him in their kiss. Her fingers dug into his
muscular shoulders, hungry for more contact.

His hands moved from her waist to her back, and he
gently massaged her as he held her to him.

“I have wanted this for so long,” he whispered
against her lips, breaking their kiss for a moment. “I have wanted
you
.”

She responded wordlessly, squeezing his shoulders
and bringing their mouths together once more.

His hands began to move from her back to her sides,
right under her breasts. She suddenly felt needy, achy with a desire for his
touch there. Sensing her longing, he slid both hands up slightly so that he
cupped each breast.

His large hands felt incredible, but it wasn’t
enough. She wanted more sensation, more contact. Instinctively, she arched into
his hands, creating more connection.

Just as he delved his tongue into her mouth in a
penetrating kiss, he slid each thumb up to brush against the peaks of her
breasts.

A jolt of liquid fire shot through her, and she
gasped into his mouth. It was almost too much to take. Heat was gathering
between her legs, and for the first time in her life, she dimly realized that
her body was making itself ready for him, that she viscerally desired the
promised contact waiting for her in Burke’s embrace.

He continued to caress the peaks of her breasts,
which had hardened into tight centers of pleasure, even as he teased and
explored her mouth with his.

Suddenly, she couldn’t stand not being able to touch
his skin. Her fingers when to the tie at the neck of his shirt, and when the
tie was loose, she let her fingertips brush the flesh of his upper chest. His
muscles tensed under her fingers, and her stomach fluttered at the feel of the
smooth steeliness of his body.  He was battle-hewn and in his prime. She had
never touched a man like that, all hard, lean muscle.

He dragged his hands from her breasts just long
enough to tug the shirt over his head and toss it aside. Her eyes widened at
the sight before her, illuminated in the moonbeams coming through the barn’s
wooden slats.

He looked like a pagan god. His light brown hair had
come loose from its queue and settled around his wide, thickly muscled
shoulders. His broad chest tapered to a trim waist, and she could see ridges of
muscles defined by the shadows in the barn’s low light. The faintest trail of hair
led from his navel down to the top of his kilt, and presumably below.

Despite the fact that she knew what was beneath a
man’s kilt, she blushed, the heat warming her already sensitive skin. She met
his eyes and realized that he had watched her raw appraisal of his body.

“Do I please you, Meredith?” he whispered huskily.

“Aye. And do I please you?”

His dark eyes seemed to glow, and he scorched her
with a raw, heated look. His eyes moved to her lips, then to the open cloak and
the ties at the neck of her chemise. Then his gaze slipped lower to her
breasts. She glanced down and realized that their shape was easy to glean, and
the dark tips were just barely visible through the material.

“Aye, you please me more than I ever thought
possible.”

She had been vaguely aware at one point many years
ago that her face was pretty, and that her curves, slimmer but womanly
nonetheless, were pleasing to men. But she had never felt so adored, so
worshipped, as she did now with Burke.

“Kiss me again. And…touch me,” she said, forcing
herself not to lower her head with ladylike bashfulness. Instead, she meet
Burke’s eyes.

He obliged quicker than lightening. His hands once
again sought her breasts, sending more flames of liquid pleasure through her
limbs, as his mouth caressed and teased hers. She let her hands skim over his
newly exposed skin, exploring all the hard planes and ridges.

Her fingertips found the trail of hair just below
his navel and traced it downward. Burke shivered uncontrollably and made a
sound like a half-formed curse against her mouth.

She broke off their kiss when her fingertips reached
the belt buckle holding his kilt around his hips. She glanced down at the dark
red material and her hand on his belt buckle.

“What is it, love?” he asked as she continued to
stare in silence.

“It’s just…your plaid…”

Realization dawned on him. “My
Sinclair
plaid.”

She swallowed and met his eyes, trying to convey her
pain and confusion to him.

“You think that you are dishonoring your clan and
family?”

“I don’t know. It has been drilled into me—into all
Sutherlands—that the Sinclairs are our enemies, that they are—”

He smiled softly. “It’s all right, lass. You won’t
offend me or tell me anything I haven’t heard before from Sutherlands, the
English, or any other number of…foes.”

The warmth in his eyes almost managed to chase away
the sudden chill that was settling over her. “What if, even after all this
time, my family rejects you? What if they send you away?”

His face grew serious. “Would you want them to?”

“Nay!”

“Do you think that what we are doing is wrong? Do
you think that my love for you, and yours for me, is wrong?”

“Nay…but…”

He took her hand in his. “You’re a widow now,
remember? You are—how did you so elegantly put it?—‘the most undesirable sort
of woman imaginable.’” He couldn’t help but chuckle, which drew a smile out of
her.

“My point is, you are your own woman now, Meredith. As
you said, you no longer need to look to your father, your husband, or even your
brother for permission to do what is in your heart.”

Something shifted inside her chest at his words. She
was free, and yet she continued to doubt herself and look to others for
approval. No more, she told herself firmly. The one thing she wanted, the one
thing she had always wanted, was to be free to choose. She had that now. And
she was making her choice.

“You’re right,” she said, locking eyes with him.
“And I’ll do what is in my heart.” Without waiting for him to respond, she
leaned in and pressed her lips against his.

There was no more hesitancy, no more fear, and no
more doubt. Even as their tongues swirled together, she reached for his belt
buckle, unfastening it.

The material of his kilt began unpleating and
sliding from his hips, even though he was seated. He seemed to read the change
in her, for his hands were suddenly everywhere at once—in her hair, on her
breasts, around her waist, and molding to her hips.

He managed to push the cloak from her shoulders so
that she was in nothing but her chemise. He leaned toward her so that she
tilted back into a soft mound of hay. The scent of it mingled with his exposed
skin, making her feel wild and free.

“I have to see you,” he mumbled against her mouth,
then pulled back a little to undo the ties of her chemise.

Despite the warmth of the barn, she shivered as his
fingers brushed the skin at her neck. He eased the chemise over her shoulders,
and she shimmied to help him pull the material past her breasts, then her
waist, then her hips. Finally, the thin garment slid past her feet and she was
fully bare before him, splayed out on top of her cloak and the hay beneath it.

He inhaled sharply, and her eyes sought his,
suddenly unsure and feeling exposed. But the look of raw hunger that lit his
eyes made her forget any shred of embarrassment she might still cling to.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,”
he breathed, his eyes roaming all over her, lingering on her dark hair spread
behind her head, her breasts, her hips, and finally the juncture where her legs
met.

Her eyes flitted down over him as well. He was on
his knees above her, and his kilt had slipped into a pool around him on the
loft’s floor. Standing out from his body was his large, rigid manhood. She was
no maiden, but still her lips parted in surprise at its size and length.

Before she could voice that surprise, though, he
leaned back over her and placed a kiss on one of her taut nipples. She gasped
and jerked as he flicked his tongue out to circle and tease first one nipple
and then the other. By the time he leaned back on his heels again, she was
writhing in almost unbearable pleasure.

He brushed his fingertips across her stomach and
down her thighs, then wrapped his hands behind her knees and lifted slightly so
that her legs bent. Then he let his fingers slide down the inside of her thighs,
and, ever so slowly, he brushed the damp curls of her sex.

She gasped and moaned even though his touch was
feather-light. Unconsciously, her legs fell open a bit, giving him more access
to her. He slid a finger along her most sensitive flesh, and her body shuddered
of its own volition.

Then he was positioning himself between her legs,
but instead of his manhood, he lowered his head toward her most private place.

She suddenly stiffened. “What are you doing?”

“Has no one ever given you this pleasure?” he said,
his eyes looking up at her but his head still lowered between her legs.

“Nay… What pleasure?”

Though his eyes were still fired with passion, he
frowned slightly. “You deserved better, Meredith. Now let me give you all the enjoyment
you’ve been robbed of all these years.”

She didn’t object, but she watched him warily as he
lowered his mouth to the achy, damp spot between her legs. When his mouth
touched her most sensitive spot, she jerked uncontrollably as a whole new kind
of sensation washed over her. She let her head fall back onto her cloak and the
mound of hay underneath as his mouth worked.

Wave after wave of deliciously torturous pleasure
crashed around her as his tongue swirled and circled, delved and devoured her.
She distantly registered that she was moaning and writhing wildly, but she
didn’t care. All she knew was that she never wanted it to stop. She never
wanted to be anywhere but in Burke’s hold, under his skillful hands and mouth.

The sensation hitched higher and higher, until she
felt like she couldn’t take it anymore, like she would explode.

And then she did.

Suddenly her pleasure burst into a thousand shards
of light and she was soaring. Her body was light as air and throbbing
everywhere. Then she was slowly spiraling back to earth. Burke’s tongue
lingered on her, sending reverberations echoing through her.

“I never knew…” Of course she knew that some women
enjoyed the experience of lovemaking, but she had no idea that it could be like
that.

She lifted her head to gaze down at him as he eased
back from her and onto his heels. Suddenly her eyes were drawn back to his hard
manhood jutting from his body, and a deeper, hungrier feeling stole over her.

He made a low noise in his throat at her bold
perusal of his erection. She looked up into his eyes and saw her own simmering
hunger mirrored back, except he looked to be starving.

“I want you, all the way, now, Burke,” she breathed.

Like lightening he was over her, his hips between
her legs. He leaned his weight on one elbow, and his other hand came between
their bodies. She felt the brush of his swollen manhood against her
still-tingling flesh, then his fingers glided over her. She inhaled sharply as
the now-familiar pleasure returned to her in a heartbeat.

With another few strokes, she was panting and
moaning once more. His fingers left her, to be replaced by the nudge of his
manhood. He took himself in his hand, slowly guiding himself into her.

As he moved torturously, achingly slowly, her body
took him in. He filled her deeply, until she cried out with the searing
pleasure of his size. He pressed on until he filled her to the hilt. She
arched, trying to take all of him in, longing to be closer and more bound to
him.

Then he withdrew, but only partway. This time as he
pressed back inside her, he rocked his hips, and she was treated to yet another
new sensation. Once fully inside her, he ground against her, circling slightly.

She was vaguely aware that her fingernails were
digging into the flesh of his shoulders, but he didn’t seem to mind, or even
register it.

He withdrew and entered again, this time faster.
Soon he had built a torturous rhythm that had her arching and moaning,
wordlessly begging him—for release and for more at the same time.

His jaw was clenched, and the muscles of his back
strained under her hands. She realized that he fought for control, his pleasure
was so great. That sent her own pleasure hitching higher. He seemed to sense
that she was close to careening into the heavens once again, and he increased
the pace, thrusting deeply into her.

It was her breaking point. Yet again, she reached
toward the shattering paradise and found it, this time with Burke buried deep
inside her. She felt herself spasm around him right before he jerked and cried
out his release.

Their breath mingled as they both came back down to
earth. He rolled slightly to the side so as not to crush her with his weight,
but wrapped an arm around her and held her close to his naked body.

She was as limp as a milk-drunk puppy. Her whole
body hummed with pleasure, and it wasn’t just from their lovemaking. She
managed to get her head onto his shoulder before complete and exhausted
contentedness stole all her energy. Her last thought before sleep claimed her
was that no matter what happened, she would never let Burke Sinclair go again.