The Highlander Series (25 page)

“Aye, lass, but I can remedy that.”

He started to push upward, but she reached down and pressed a hand to his chest.

“ ’Tis my duty to undress you.”

He settled back onto the bed as her fingers went to the laces of his trews. As soon as she loosened them sufficiently, his erection jutted upward. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to his size. And she couldn’t even fathom how she’d get it in her mouth, but Maddie seemed sure that it was done by plenty of women.

When she had trouble tugging the material over his hips, he lifted them and his hands covered hers as he helped push it down his legs.

When he would have sat up, she once again pushed him down, only this time she followed him down, until her lips were a mere breath from his.

She kissed him, enjoying the feel of his mouth beneath hers. Her hands wandered over his chest, and she marveled at how hard and solid he was. The roughness of his scars contrasted with the bristle of the hair underneath her palms. His nipples puckered and hardened under her touch and she went back, rubbing over them again, fascinated by the reaction that was similar to her own.

“What are you about, lass?” he murmured against her mouth.

She smiled and nuzzled his jaw and kissed her way down to his neck just like he’d done to her. Judging by the sudden tension in his body, he liked it every bit as much as she had.

“I have a theory,” she whispered as she hovered just
over one flat nipple. Then she flicked her tongue out and licked the point until it hardened and jutted outward.

Ewan groaned. “What is your theory, lass?”

Placing both hands on his chest, she trailed her tongue down his midline until it dipped into his navel. He flinched and arched upward, his erection prodding at her side.

“My theory is that men might enjoy being kissed … down there … as much as women enjoy a man’s mouth … down there.”

“Ah hell,” Ewan gasped out.

She curled her hand around his thick manhood and tucked the head between her lips.

He sounded like a man taking in his last breaths of life. His body was so tense and bowed that he resembled a wooden beam. His hands flew to the bed and gripped the linens. Oh aye, he liked it.

Emboldened by his obvious enjoyment, she took him deeper, running her hand up and down the shaft as she sucked him farther into her mouth.

“Mairin,” he gasped. “Oh sweet heaven, lass. Have mercy.”

She smiled and lowered her fingers to stroke his swollen sac. He arched his hips, thrusting even as she took him as deep as she could. He was impossibly hard, so turgid that she wondered how he didn’t split his skin.

He throbbed in her hand, hard, yet velvety soft, like a steel sword encased in silk.

“Lass, I can’t take much more. You need to stop before I spill in your mouth.”

Still gripping him in her hand, she raised her head so she could look into his eyes. Her hair fell forward and he reached up to smooth it from her face, his palm cradling her cheek as he did so.

“Would you like to spill in my mouth?” she asked shyly.

“Ah, Mairin, that’s like asking a dying man if he wants to live.”

She cupped his face between her hands and lowered her mouth to kiss him. Long and sweet, she licked over his lips and dove inside, brushing her tongue over his, tasting him and teasing.

“I like the idea of tasting you,” she whispered.

He cupped her breasts, and as she pulled away, he raised the mounds and lifted his head so that he could feast on her nipples. She leaned heavily on him, her knees weak and shaking under the onslaught. If she gave him half a chance, he’d turn the tables on her seduction.

She pulled away but softened her withdrawal with another kiss, and then she kissed another path down his chest, to his firm belly and then beyond to the nest of hair where his erection jutted hard and bold.

She licked first, tracing the bulging vein on the underside of the thick shaft. When she reached the head, there was already a droplet of liquid seeping from the slit. She lapped gently, sipping at the slightly salty taste of him.

Ewan’s breath escaped in one long hiss, and when she lowered her mouth down his length, he seemed to lose all of his carefully cultivated control.

He writhed on the bed, his movements desperate and unmeasured. She held him tight, using her tongue to drive him wild. His hand closed around hers and he pulled upward, his grip tightening as he worked her hand up and down. Realizing what it was he wanted her to do, she began to move her hand in rhythm with her mouth.

“Ah, lass, like that. Just like that,” he moaned.

His hand tangled in her hair and then gripped the base of her neck, holding her as his hips hammered upward. She took him to the back of her throat and then hot liquid exploded onto her tongue, filling her mouth in a seemingly unending stream.

It was the most erotic thing she could have ever imagined, and never could she have thought that something so coarse and basic could have excited her beyond measure, but loving her husband in this fashion drove her as wild as it did him.

She felt powerful and equal, like she could give him every bit as much as he gave her.

He collapsed on the bed and slipped from her mouth. She swallowed the last of his passion and wiped at her lips with the back of her hand. His breaths came ragged and harsh and his gaze slid hotly over her as his chest heaved up and down.

“Come here, lass,” he said hoarsely.

He pulled her down on top of him so that their bodies fused, warm and sweaty. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

Remembering Maddie’s assertion that men were much more amenable after loving, Mairin lifted her head until her hair drapped over his chest.

“Ewan?”

His hands smoothed over her shoulders and down to cup her buttocks. He squeezed and kneaded gently as he stared up into her eyes.

“Aye, lass?”

“I would like your promise,” she said.

He cocked his head to the side. “What are you wanting me to promise?”

“I realize we’re newly married and I don’t fully know the way of things, but I’ve discovered I’m a very possessive woman. I want your promise that you’ll be faithful. I know ’tis common for some men to keep a leman—”

She was interrupted by Ewan’s scowl. Then he sighed.

“Lass, you’ve just thoroughly worn me out. Do you mind telling me how on earth I’d have the energy to bed another woman?”

She frowned. That wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear.

He sighed again. “Mairin, I took vows. I didn’t take them lightly. As long as you prove a good and faithful wife, there’s no reason for me to seek out another woman. I wouldn’t dishonor you or myself that way. Your loyalty is to me, aye, but my loyalty is to you and any children you bear me. I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

Tears crowded her eyes and she leaned down until their foreheads touched. “I’ll be faithful to you as well, Ewan.”

“You damned well better,” he growled. “I’ll kill any man who touches you.”

“Did you like me kissing you … down there …?”

He grinned and raised his lips to smooch hers. “I liked it very much. I may require you to kiss me there every single night before we retire.”

She frowned and punched him in the gut. He laughed and sucked inward in mock agony. He grabbed her wrists and rolled, careful not to jar her side. When they were on their sides, locked together, their faces so close she could feel his breath, he touched her cheek and rubbed with the back of his knuckle.

“And now, lass, I’m thinking I have some kissing of my own to do. Complete with tongue.”

She sucked in her breath until she saw spots dancing in her vision. “Tongue? Have I told you lately how indecent your tongue is, Laird?”

“It can’t get any more indecent than yours just got,” he said.

Then he proceeded to show her that indeed, he was far, far more indecent than she could ever dream of being.

Ewan woke to a heavy pounding on his chamber door. Before he could rouse himself enough to answer the summons, the door burst open. Ewan was out of bed in the next instant, his hand on the floor and around the hilt of his sword.

“Jesu, Ewan, ’tis just me,” Caelen said. “You were sleeping the sleep of the dead.”

Ewan sat back on the bed and first pulled the furs up to shield Mairin’s nudity and then to shield his own. “Get the hell out of here,” he said irritably.

“If my presence offends your maidenly modesty, I’ll turn my back until you dress,” Caelen said.

“ ’Tis not mine I’m worried over,” Ewan snarled.

“Well, hell, Ewan, I can’t see the lass, nor am I looking. ’Tis important or I wouldn’t have breached your chamber.”

“Ewan?”

Mairin’s sleepy voice rose from the covers, and her head poked out. Her hair was all rumpled, her eyes droopy, and yet somehow she still managed to look adorable. Even though Caelen claimed not to be looking, Ewan caught his brother glancing Mairin’s way.

Ewan leaned over and brushed the hair from her face and then kissed her on the forehead. “Listen to me,
sweeting. I want you to go back to sleep. You need your rest.”

She murmured something he couldn’t hear and snuggled back underneath the blankets. He touched her cheek one last time and then rolled out of bed to pull his clothing on.

He ordered Caelen into the hall until he was finished and then put on his boots and picked up his sword. With one final look in Mairin’s direction, he strode into the hall where Caelen fell into step with him.

“Sweeting? You need your sleep?” Caelen mimicked. “I think you’re missing your scrotum, brother.”

Ewan balled his fist and slammed it into Caelen’s jaw. Caelen went reeling and had to catch himself on the wall to keep from falling down the stairs.

“Well damn, Ewan. I have to say marriage doesn’t agree with you,” Caelen said, as he rubbed his jaw.

“I think it agrees with me just fine.”

As they entered the hall, Ewan saw Alaric stride in, his clothing dusty and lines of fatigue creasing his face.

“You dragged me from a warm bed for Alaric’s arrival?” Ewan asked.

“He said ’twas important. He sent a messenger ahead to summon you to meet him,” Caelen defended.

“Ewan,” Alaric called as he strode forward.

“What’s so urgent that you sent a messenger ahead of you?”

“McDonald is on his way here.”

Ewan frowned. “Here? Why? What happened, Alaric?”

“You married. That’s what happened. Laird McDonald had every intention of marrying off his daughter to you. He’s not pleased to discover that’s no longer an option. He’s insisted on meeting with you, no matter that you are newly married, as I tried to explain. He informed
me that if you wanted this alliance, you would meet with him.”

Ewan cursed. “We’re in no position to host anyone. We can barely feed our own clan and now we have to host McDonald and his men? We need weeks to prepare for an event such as this, not mere days.”

Alaric grimaced and closed his eyes.

“What?” Ewan asked sharply.

“Not days. Day.”

More curses blistered Ewan’s lips. “Day? When is he arriving?”

Alaric sighed and wiped his forehead wearily. “Why do you think I ran my horse into the ground to get here? McDonald will arrive on the morrow.”

“Ewan?”

Ewan whirled to see Mairin standing a short distance away, her gaze questioning.

“May I have permission to speak?”

He lifted a brow, surprised she’d even ask. But he also saw how nervous she appeared as she stared at his two brothers.

He held out his hand, and she hurried over to take it. “You have need of something, Mairin?”

“I overheard, I mean about Laird McDonald coming. Is there trouble?”

Worry shadowed her blue eyes as she stared up at him.

“Nay, sweeting, no trouble. Laird McDonald and I are in talks. ’Tis nothing for you to worry over.”

“He’ll be here tomorrow?”

“Aye.”

She frowned and then squared her shoulders. “There’s much to be done, Ewan. Are you going to be difficult about my injury and make me stay abed, or are you going to allow me to do my duty so that I’m not shamed beyond measure when we have important guests?”

“Shamed?”

She huffed in exasperation. “The keep is in no condition for visitors. There’s cleaning to do, food to cook, instructions to give. Why, if someone arrived today, they’d think me the most incompetent of any laird’s wife. Not only would I be shamed, but you would be shamed as well.”

She sounded so appalled over the idea that she would bring shame to him that his gaze softened. He squeezed her hand, which he still held between his own.

“As long as you promise to ease off if you start feeling any pain, I have no issue with you working to ready the keep. However, I expect any of the harder tasks to be taken by the other women. I don’t want you doing anything to tear your stitches.”

Her smile lit up the entire room. Her eyes danced and she squeezed his fingers. She looked exuberant, like she wanted to fling her arms around him, but she collected herself and let go of his hand.

“My thanks, Laird. I won’t let you down.”