This Heart of Mine (77 page)

“I’ll try, sweetheart,” he promised, relieved that she was not going to cause a scene, “but Alanna can be stubborn, and I do feel a responsibility for little Sybilla.” He hugged her tightly. “Dammit, Velvet, I don’t want to talk about this now! I want to make love to ye again, lass. It’s driving me wild wi’ desire being wi’ ye like this!”

And indeed she could feel him burgeoning and swelling,
pressing against her back. She took a deep breath so that her breasts swelled within his hands and moved provocatively against him, tipping her head back so that he could look into her face. “Do you know what I want, Alex?” she asked him. When he shook his head, she said, “Once you said that I reminded you of a kitten, but the kitten has grown into a sleek cat, and like a cat I enjoy being stroked. Stroke me, Alex. Stroke your wee cat,” and she slipped from his grasp to lay upon her belly.

She was a most delicious temptation, lying upon her stomach, propped up on her elbows, her round breasts hanging like ripe apples, her adorable bottom thrust up like twin hillocks. He feasted his eyes upon her in the waning firelight that cast golden shadows over her luscious form. Reaching out, he pushed her hair aside and massaged her neck gently before sweeping down the long length of her back to fondle her buttocks. He found the springy flesh of her bottom almost as exciting as he found her delightful breasts.

Velvet lay flat now, stretching her arms and legs out. Unable to resist, he lay atop her and began to tease her by licking at the side of her neck and blowing softly into her ear until she began to squirm slightly. Then he whispered, “Admit that ye are hot to fuck me, Velvet.”

She laughed. “You’re too impatient, Alex. I see that I shall have to teach you that half the pleasure is in the wanting, my darling! The truth is that you are hot to fuck me!”

He was astounded by her bold words, and she knew it.

“Do you really want that sweet child back, Alex? The one who fought constantly with you and lay passively during your lovemaking?”

He thought a minute and then, laughing, said, “Nay, sweetheart, I don’t. She was sweet, but Jesu! I far prefer the hot wanton that ye’ve become in our bed. It still disturbs me that ye learned these things beneath another man’s tutelage, yet I love ye.”

“Always remember, Alex, that I believed Akbar was my second husband. I do not ask where you learned how to be a man, nor do I resent the women who taught you. Do not resent the man who has taught me, for he is now without me, and you will have all the benefits of his skill. Now, dammit, get off of me, my wild Highland husband, for you’re crushing me beneath your great weight!”

He rolled off her, saying, “Then crush me beneath yours, lass!” She neatly straddled him, laughing softly down in his face. Reaching up, he began to tease her nipples, rubbing them
softly until they began to thrust forward like little thorns. Watching her passion rise through his slitted amber eyes, he firmly pinched each nipple, sending little thrills throughout her so that she rubbed herself against him in a most erotic manner, her breath coming in shorter gasps.

“Now, my wanton wife,” he said softly, “I shall teach ye that ye yet have things to learn, things that ye will learn from me, and no other man. Lean back, Velvet, and brace yerself upon yer arms.” When she had obeyed him, he lifted his heavy and hardened loveshaft and began to rub it against her throbbing little jewel.

Velvet whimpered deep in her throat as tiny flames of pure desire began to touch her. This was a most delicious torture. She quivered slightly as she felt him caressing her softly, sensually, but when she attempted to shift herself so that he might enter her body, he reached out and prevented her.

“Nay, lass. Not yet. I will say when this time.”

“I … I can bear no more, Alex.” Her voice was beginning to quaver.

“Aye, lass, ye can bear more, and ye will, or in the end I shall not gie ye that hot sweetness ye crave. Did ye not tell me that the wanting was a part of the lovemaking?” Then he began again to tease her.

Velvet thought that she would die with the pleasure that his touch evoked. Looking down, she saw the ruby head of his shaft, almost glowing with its passion, stroking at the fountain of her very desire, which was now pearly with her lovejuices. She felt poised upon a precipice, and each touch brought her nearer to the brink. Finally she could bear it no longer, and with a little cry she slipped over the edge to whirl away into pure pleasure.

“That’s it, lass,” she heard him encourage her.

When her head cleared, he was still playing with her, and she could feel her hunger beginning to rise once more. “Oh, Alex,” she sobbed.

“Stop trying to gain control, Velvet,” he said. “Let it happen, lass. Let me pleasure ye for ye’ll soon pleasure me.”

It was too much this time, and she fell forward, but he caught her in his embrace. Turning her onto her back, he spread her wide to him and drove into her throbbing, honeyed sheath. Her scream of satisfaction almost caused him to lose his careful control, but he held fast and began to pump into her with long, slow strokes of his manhood.

“Ah, Alex,” she cried, “ ’tis sweet! ’Tis so sweet, my darling!” Her nails raked a path down his straining back.

His rhythm increased, and he towered above her, thrusting fiercely within her eager body. He felt all-powerful! She inspired him to the heights of passion such as he had never attained before, and she kept pace with him, thrusting her buttocks up to meet his every downward stroke. Wrapping her legs about him as she had done earlier, she smoothed her hands down his back, cupping his tight buttocks within her warm hands, sending hot thrills of delight through him.

“Christ, Velvet!” He groaned as he moved from sanity to total mindlessness.

“That’s it, my wild Highland lord,” she breathed in his ear, “love me! Love me well!”

Neither of them remembered the ending to this interlude, for Velvet, climbing passion’s peak, found herself falling away into a state of unconsciousness, so great was her lust for her husband. As for Alex, he could not remember a great deal more than the fact that, unable to bear any more of the delicious combat between them, his throbbing body had dissolved into hers, and he had rolled away from her in his last conscious moment.

Velvet awoke, chilled and exhausted. The gray light of early dawn was beginning to creep into the room. Beside her, Alex was sprawled, his long legs and arms akimbo. Her eyes went to his sex, and she smiled to herself. One of God’s great mysteries surely had to do with a man’s cock. It was hard to believe that the cupid’s bow now between her husband’s legs was the mighty lance that twice the night before had pierced her so sweetly.

Slipping from the bed, she knelt by the fireplace and, finding several hot coals left there, fed them little pieces of kindling until she regained a small flame, which she then encouraged into a decent fire. There was still a half kettle of water left, and this she heated while emptying the cold basin out the window. Refilling the silver basin with the now warmed water, she took a fresh cloth and began to bathe herself.

“I thought that was my duty,” Alex said sleepily, and with a smile Velvet brought the basin to the bedside and handed him the cloth.

“ ’Tis a nice way to wake up, lass,” he teased her as he worked.

She grinned down at him. “I don’t remember the end of it at all last night, Alex, do you?”

He had finished, and while she took up the cloth to bathe him, he shook his head ruefully. “Nay, lass, I dinna remember
anything except the fact that ye’re the most delicious piece of goods a man ever held in his arms. If I wanted to tell find the proper words, for I dinna think they exist.”

“Why, Alex,” she said, coloring becomingly, “that is most gallant.” Finished with her task, she put the basin with its cloths aside and climbed into bed with him. “I’m cold,” she complained.

He wrapped his arms about her, and she snuggled contentedly next to him. “Dinna get too comfortable, lass,” he cautioned her. “I’ve promised to go fishing wi’ Bothwell, and ’tis almost dawn.”

“You’ll need better bait than this,” she said, tweaking his manhood mischievously. “What happened to that fine, randy fellow who entertained me so well last night?”

“Ye’ve worn him out, Velvet lass, but dinna fear, for he’ll be calling upon ye again quite soon.” Then he chuckled. “Ye’re a bold wench, Lady Gordon, and full of surprises, I’m learning. I think that living wi’ ye isna going to be either quiet or dull.”

“Never dull, Alex, my wild Highland lord! That much I can promise you,” she said, and, leaning over, she bit his shoulder sharply.

“Little bitch!” he growled, smacking her bottom lightly. Then detaching her arms from about his neck, he arose from the bed and dressed himself while she lay watching him. Kissing her tenderly, he said, “Go back to sleep, my bonny wife. I’ll bring ye home a fine salmon.” Then he was gone out the door.

Velvet snuggled down beneath the coverlet, warm now and feeling better than she had in months. Bothwell had been absolutely right. It was time that she put the past behind her and rebuilt her life with Alex. She needed another child to love, not that she would ever either forget or stop mourning Yasaman. There was not a day that went by that she didn’t wonder about her little daughter. Yasaman would be thirteen months old in a few days. Did she walk yet? Was she talking? For a moment Velvet felt the old sadness sweep over her. It was Rugaiya whom her baby would call mama. It was Rugaiya to whom Yasaman would entrust her childish confidences and run to when hurt. Velvet’s eyes filled with tears for a moment, but then she brushed the moisture away. There was nothing she could do about Yasaman’s loss. Yasaman was Akbar’s child, too, and he had probably been right when he had said that she would face the stigma of bastardy in Europe, whereas
there was no such taboo in India. How would Alex have reacted to Yasaman? Probably in the same way she had reacted to the news of Alanna Wythe’s daughter. He wouldn’t want her baby about any more than she wanted the Wythe woman and her child.

She and Alex had been successfully reunited last night. She intended to give of herself as generously while they were here, and in Edinburgh, too. By the time they reached
Dun Broc
she intended that her husband should be so totally enamored of her once more that Alanna Wythe would not, even with her bastard, be able to regain even the slightest bit of Alex’s attention. It startled Velvet to realize that she was a jealous woman. She had never felt jealousy for either Jodh Bai or Rugaiya Begum with regard to Akbar, but then that had been an entirely different world. This was Scotland, and she’d throw the bitch off the walls at
Dun Broc
if Alanna Wythe ever came near her husband again. “Defend or Die,” she remembered, was the motto of the Gordons of BrocCairn, and she was certainly becoming one of them quickly enough. With a chuckle, Velvet turned over and went back to sleep.

Alex stood next to his cousin, Francis, in a freezing, fast-running stream wondering what in hell had possessed him to agree to come fishing when he could be warm in bed with his wife. As if reading his thoughts, Bothwell chuckled and said, “She’ll keep all the better for the waiting, Alex. Ye’re looking a bit worn, however, this morning. Did ye nae sleep last night? I hope the bed was comfortable.”

“Damn comfortable.” He watched as his line drifted downstream, and then he said, “Does it bother ye that the king has known Cat, Francis?”

“Aye, but there’s little I can do about it, Alex. She dinna want him, nor did she encourage him for all his lechery.” Bothwell paused, then looked at his younger cousin. “ ’Tis Velvet we’re really speaking of, Alex, isn’t it? It bothers ye that she’s known another man? For God’s sake, lad, get a hold of yerself! Ye’re lucky to have her back!”

“Yer Cat didna go willingly to the king, but Velvet went willingly to Akbar, Francis. Christ, I am glad to have her back, but I canna help think of her in another man’s arms, doing to him the wonderful things she did to me last night that I certainly never taught her!”

“Did she do them well, Alex? These wonderful things?”

“God’s bones, yes!” muttered the Earl of BrocCairn.

“Then be grateful to this Akbar, ye idiot. Besides, when ye
begin to think about him, remember that Velvet believed herself a widow. She’s too toothsome a morsel, yer wife, to remain alone and celibate should ye die, Alex. Best ye remember that and take care not to worry yerself into an early grave. If ye do, ye’ll have to sit up in heaven and watch some other lucky man plow wi’ yer mare!” At Alex’s startled look, Bothwell punched him jovially and laughed.

“Ye’re a bastard, Francis, but by God ye’re right!” replied Alex, and then he chuckled, seeing the situation in a somewhat brighter light.

“Then, cousin, that’s settled,” said Bothwell. “Come now, and share wi’ me the secrets yer wife brought back from the East. By God, I’ve got to know these ‘wonderful things’!”

“Francis! I’ve got a bite!” shouted Alex, and in the stream a large salmon leaped at the end of his line. “Help me, cousin!”

“Merde!”
swore Bothwell, but he reached for the net to aid his kinsman.

For several days Alex and Velvet partook of Bothwell’s hospitality, the two men going off to fish early each morning; and one day Bothwell and Lady Leslie took both Gordons hunting. It was a peaceful time, the long, lazy days followed by equally long nights of incredible passion between Alex and Velvet. In the magical atmosphere of
Hermitage
so ripe and full with the love between Francis Stewart-Hepburn and Cat Leslie, Velvet and Alex found once more the love that had been just blossoming between them when they had been separated, and that love grew quickly with each day that passed.

Finally, they could stay no longer, for the trip to
Dun Broc
was yet a long one, and they knew that they must stop in Edinburgh to pay their respects to the king. Velvet had found in Cat Leslie a good friend and an admirable companion even though the Countess of Glenkirk was some eleven years her senior.

“Life is short, Velvet,” Cat told her. “Take yer happiness, try to harm none, and let no man, even the one ye love, dominate ye. ’Tis my rule of life now.”