The Highlander Series (107 page)

She loved running her fingers through the long strands. She soaped and rinsed and dug her fingers through the thick pelt, massaging and stroking as she sought to give him comfort.

“Your hands are magic, lass,” he murmured. “ ’Tis the truth I’ve never had so much pleasure from something so simple as a washing of the hair.”

“If you stand by the fire, I’ll dry you,” she said as she rocked back on her heels.

“You’ll not have to ask me twice if I want another opportunity for your hands on my body.”

He stood, and water ran down his back, over his firm buttocks, and down his legs. He stepped from the tub
and then turned to face her, his back to the fire. Her gaze was riveted to his body. Were she ninety, she’d never grow tired of looking at this man. He fascinated her. He appealed to her feminine senses in a way a man had never before appealed to her.

“If you continue looking at me so, you’ll find yourself on your back with me between your thighs,” he said gruffly.

She grinned then and stepped forward to began wiping the moisture from his body. She rose up on tiptoe to gather the strands of his hair and squeeze excess water away. When his hair no longer dripped, she began to rub down the rest of his body.

’Twas the truth she had every intention of pampering her husband this night, but she was so enjoying the experience herself that she felt guilty over the pleasure it brought her.

With his chest and arms now dry, she dropped to her knees to rub his hips, thighs, and lower legs. For now she avoided his groin, wanting to draw out that particular form of torture.

Then she rose up on her knees so that her mouth was mere inches from his swollen cock. “Tell me husband, will you be too weak to partake of your evening meal if I pleasure you now?”

His eyes glittered at her mischievous teasing. He slid his fingers through her hair and pulled her roughly forward until the tip of his erection rested against her bottom lip.

“I’ll manage somehow.”

Knowing what the image of her on her knees while he stood over her would do to him, she slid her mouth over his hardness and took him deep.

“Ah, lass,” he moaned. “Your mouth is the sweetest pleasure I’ve ever known.”

His fingers curled into her hair and then he loosened
his hold as if worried he’d hurt her with his urgency. Then he tightened his grip again when she swallowed against the head.

This time she’d not draw out his pleasure. She intended it to be quick and sharp, a precursor of what was to come.

She curled her hand around the base of his shaft and stroked down as she sucked down to the tip. Then she tightened her fingers and stroked back up as she swallowed him whole once more.

Over and over she took him hard and fast until he went up on tiptoe, straining to go deeper. He tried to pull away when ’twas obvious he was about to gain his release, but she resisted and took him to the back of her throat, holding him captive there until with a harsh shout he poured himself into her mouth.

She continued to slide her tongue and lips over his length until finally he framed her face in his hands and pulled gently from her grasp. He reached down to help her to her feet and pulled her close when she stumbled. After a moment she pulled away and offered him his trews.

“Come to the bed so that I may brush your hair,” she said as he reclothed himself. “Our food will be here soon and then you can eat.”

She perched on the edge of the bed, and he sat on the floor between her knees while she brushed the tangles from his hair. After awhile she put aside the brush and pulled her fingers through the strands, enjoying the feel against her skin.

He reached up and caught one of her hands and brought it around to his mouth. He kissed her palm and then turned it over to press a kiss to each of her knuckles.

“What prompted this display of affection, wife?”

“Well, you did advise me that such displays were not appropriate in front of the men,” she said primly.

He gave a shout of laughter. “I’d hope not, lass. Not that I don’t love the sight of you with your lips wrapped around my cock, but ’twould incite a riot among my men. ’Tis best if we keep such matters private.”

She grinned and leaned forward to hug him. She kissed his temple and then released him when a knock sounded at the door. “That will be Sarah with our evening meal. Don’t move. I’ll return in a moment.”

She made Sarah wait in the hall and returned a few times to bear in the food. When she had everything, she dismissed Sarah and closed the door.

First she poured Caelen a goblet of ale and handed it to him. He watched her all the while she prepared a plate. His gaze was intense and possessive, like he’d love nothing more than to strip her down and take her there on the floor.

’Twas the truth, she’d love nothing more as well, but there was food to be had and her husband was likely starving.

She curled up beside him on the floor, shivering softly. Her clothing was slightly damp from attending to Caelen’s bath. Her husband frowned and put his hand out to touch the sleeves of her gown.

“You’re cold. And wet.”

“Aye, ’tis not of import.”

“You’re shivering.”

“The fire will warm me soon enough.”

He took the plate from her and set it on the bed. Then he got to his feet and pulled her up beside him. In a reversal of roles for the evening, he divested her of her gown and then removed her underdress, leaving her naked to his avid gaze.

“Your skin glows so warmly in the light of the fire,”
he murmured. “I think ’tis the way I’d like you to remain for the evening.”

He settled back on the floor but instead of allowing her to sit beside him as she had before, he pulled her down so that she straddled his lap.

“ ’Tis too cold on the floor. You’ll sit here on me so you’ll not be cold.”

He touched the tiny swell of her belly and then laid his palm over it. “How is our child this day?”

“I’ve not felt him move yet, but I think ’twill be soon. I’m small and Sarah says I’ll feel him move sooner because of it.”

“I hope not too small,” Caelen said with a frown. “ ’Tis God’s truth you don’t look big enough to push out a child.”

“You worry too much. I’ll be fine.”

She reached beyond him for the plate of meat, cheese, and bread. She set it on the floor next to them and picked up a piece of the meat.

She offered it to him from her hand. His mouth brushed over her fingers as he ate the offering.

“ ’Tis the sweetest meal I’ve ever eaten,” he said in a husky voice. “Offered from the hand of a naked goddess while she sits astride me. ’Tis heaven I’ve gone to.”

It was tempting to lean forward and kiss him long and hard, but she’d kept him from his meal long enough. Alternating between the meat, cheese, and bread, she broke off smaller pieces and fed him with her fingers.

He made it difficult because all the while she tended his meal, he stroked his hands over her skin. He caressed her shoulders, her back, and then he moved around to cup her ample breasts, thumbing each nipple in turn until she was fidgeting all over his lap.

“I should warn you that when this seduction of yours is at its end, I’ll not last long. I mean to have you lass, but I’m so eager, I’ll spill my seed at the first thrust.”

She laughed. “Tonight is about your pleasure, husband. I am yours to do with as you like.”

“Then free me of my trews right here so I can rest deep inside you. I’m thinking of making it a rule that when you sit on my lap, you must rest atop my cock.”

She pulled impatiently at his trews, for his words licked like fire over her body and she was as eager as he was to have him inside her.

She arched up as soon as he sprang free. He gripped her hips and guided her into place and then sank deep. They both made inarticulate sounds of pleasure. When she would have moved, he anchored her tight against him so that no space separated them.

“Right there, lass. Don’t move. Now feed me the rest of my meal.”

Each time she moved to pick up a piece of bread or cheese from the plate, she clenched tighter around him and he swelled even larger until she was impossibly stretched.

“You clutch me like a velvet fist,” he breathed.

He ran his hands up her arms and gripped her just below the shoulders. She dropped the last piece of bread when he fused his mouth to hers as if he hadn’t just eaten his fill and was starving. For her.

The flats of his palms glided down her arms and then over her hips, where they came to rest. His fingers dug into her buttocks and he lifted her as he arched upward.

“ ’Tis too good,” he gritted out. “I can’t make it last.”

He thrust hard and she was filled by his warmth. He held her tightly to his groin as he pulsed inside her sheath. Then his hands left her hips and he pulled her against his chest, his hands stroking up and down her spine.

For several long moments he continued his gentle caresses as he softened inside her. Impossibly, he wrapped one arm around her and put his other hand to the floor to push himself upward.

He slipped from her body as he stood, but he continued to hold her as he turned toward the bed, the tub and the food forgotten.

He laid her down and crawled into bed beside her, pulling her against his body. They sprawled there on the mattress, limbs tangled, arms thrown possessively over each other. He kissed her forehead and sighed in contentment. She savored the sound of a well-pleasured man and smiled her satisfaction.

“I am unsure what warranted such affection from my wife, but do tell me so that I may do it again in the future,” he said lightly.

She squeezed him and kissed the hollow of his neck. Then she toyed idly with his hair, suddenly possessed to want to know more of her husband.

“What is it you write in your scrolls?”

He drew away, seemingly surprised by the question. He looked faintly … embarrassed, and she wondered if she hadn’t been better served to not spoil the intimate moment between them.

“My thoughts,” he finally said. “It helps me make better sense of them when I write them down.”

“So it’s like an accounting of your day?”

“In a manner of speaking. I find I express myself better with written words. I haven’t an eloquent tongue and I don’t like to speak overmuch.”

“Nay. Surely you jest,” she teased.

He smacked her playfully on the arse. “ ’Tis something I’ve done since I learned to read and write when I was a young lad. My father was a learned man and he taught his sons. He thought it an important skill. He oft said that intelligence served a warrior better than a sword.”

“He sounded like a wise man.”

“He was,” Caelen said quietly. “He was a great laird, beloved by his clan.”

Rionna looked into her husband’s eyes and knew that
demons from his past gnawed at him this night. She sorely regretted making him think of his father, for ’twas impossible to separate his death and Elsepeth’s betrayal. But at the same time, she wanted to know more and perhaps ease her husband’s burden.

“Tell me of Elsepeth,” she urged.

Caelen stiffened and his expression darkened. “ ’Tis nothing to speak of.”

“I would disagree. She’s made you hard. She’s taken something that should be rightfully mine.”

Caelen looked at her in confusion. “What is it you speak of?”

She touched his cheek. “Your heart. You cannot ever give it fully to me because she still occupies it.”

“Nay,” he swiftly denied.

“Aye,” she argued. “You hardened the part of your heart that you offered to her. When she betrayed you, you locked that part away, never to open it again. She’s trapped there. She has what is rightfully mine and I want it, husband. I’m no longer content to wait.”

He looked incredulously at her. “You make unreasonable demands, wife.”

Rionna huffed impatiently. “ ’Tis unreasonable to want the whole of my husband’s heart? Would you accept that part of my heart belonged to another man and you could never touch it?”

He scowled at that. “You’re making too much of it, Rionna. Elsepeth is part of my past. You are my future. The two have nothing to do with each other.”

“Then tell me of her,” Rionna challenged. “If she poses no threat, then ’tis nothing to speak of her.”

Caelen sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He rolled to his back and stared up at the ceiling. Rionna remained still, waiting as he grappled with his irritation.

“I was a fool.”

Rionna didn’t respond as she watched the emotion play out over her husband’s face. She didn’t believe for a minute he still harbored tender feelings for Elsepeth, but his past was still very much alive in his heart and mind. ’Twas like a poison he’d yet to purge from his system.

She could still see the naked pain in his eyes and his regret at all that had transpired so many years ago.

“She was a few years older than I and she had more experience. I was but a young lad and she was my first … She was my first lover. I fancied myself in love with her. I had our future all mapped out. I intended to marry her, though I had nothing in the way to offer a wife. I was the third son of a laird. We weren’t a poor clan then but we were never rich either. ’Twas my intention to go to her cousin, Duncan Cameron, and ask for her hand in marriage.”

Rionna grimaced, for even though she knew the tale, or the crux of it, the inevitable path still made her cringe.

“My father sent me, Ewan, and Alaric to barter with a neighboring clan. While we were gone, Elsepeth drugged the men and opened the gates so Cameron’s soldiers could sneak into the keep in the dead of night. ’Twas a bloodbath. Our clan was sorely outnumbered and ’twas the truth we were not as well trained then as we are now. We didn’t stand a chance.

“When my brothers and I returned, we found our father dead. Ewan’s young wife had been raped and her throat cut. Only his son survived because he was hidden by women in the keep.

“The remaining members of our clan told me of Elsepeth’s involvement, but my shame doesn’t end there.”

Rionna’s brows drew together. “What happened then?”

“I didn’t believe them,” he said in disgust. “I was presented solid evidence that my head knew had to be true but my heart told me she couldn’t have possibly betrayed
me. I searched her out, determined to hear her explanation from her own lips. I was sure there had been some mistake.”