Brides of Ireland: A Medieval Historical Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

“Kirk, Kirk,” she moaned, her hands in his hair as his teeth nibbled on her jaw. “I am so glad you have not abandoned me. I was afraid I had driven you away.”

  “Never,” his voice was muffled against her flesh. “The more you abuse me, the more I want you.”

  She giggled, quickly turning to sighs of pleasure as he devoured her neck. “You’re insane to think so,” she whispered. “But know… know I truly never meant to hurt you.”

  He heard her, incapable of replying as his lips moved to the swell of her breasts. Mara’s hands touched his face, still terribly concerned with the parallel lacerations as he focused on other, more pleasurable, targets.

  “Do they hurt?” she asked, running her fingers over the scabs.

  He shook his head, pulling her surcoat off her shoulders. Before Mara realized it, she was bared to the waist and his mouth was suckling heartily on a rosy nipple. With a gasp, she stiffened with new, ripe pleasure and the three ugly wounds vanished from thought. Clutching Kirk’s head against her breast, she fell back on the bed and took him down with her.

  She was sweeter than he had ever known a woman to be. Soft, delectable, tender for the taking. Pinning her arms above her head, he kissed a delicate circle around each breast, rewarding himself after each turn by sampling a hot nipple. Mara writhed and panted, experiencing his mouth with the greatest of joy.

  Between each breast he moved, blazing a scorching trail up one arm and down the other. Releasing her arms, his massive hands kneaded and explored as her slender fingers anchored themselves firmly in his hair. Just as he was forging into the new territory of her abdomen, a soft knock rattled the door.

  He almost shouted them away. But Mara lifted her head, panting and dazed.

  “The food,” she breathed.

  He knew she was hungry. With a heavy sigh, he nodded in resignation and pushed himself off her.

  “A moment!” he couldn’t help the frustration in his voice, pulling Mara off the bed and helping her straighten her surcoat. When she was properly secured, he discreetly adjusted his bulging hose and opened the door.

  The innkeeper’s wife and the serving wench had their hands full of steaming food. Kirk pointed silently to the small table next to the hearth and the women quickly deposited their load. Bowing and scraping their way from the room seemed to take a small eternity and Kirk slammed the door irritably when they were finally gone. Turning around, he was not surprised to see that Mara was almost half-way through with the meal.

  He lifted an eyebrow as he approached. “Did you not think to save any for me?”

  Her mouth was full of mutton. “Nay,” she said, pushing his hand away when he tried to take a slab of meat. “This is all mine.”

  He grinned and she batted at him, pushing him away and pretending to horde it all. In a flash, Kirk reached down and lifted her from the small chair, taking it himself. As Mara sputtered and shrieked, unable to protest with her mouth stuffed, he deposited her on his lap and took a helping of bread.

  “There, you gluttonous wench,” he slopped the bread in gravy and took a healthy bite. “I will claim you and your food.”

  She grinned at him, pieces of mutton on her lips. He kissed her, licking the debris clean. One kiss led to another, and still another. Before either one of them could control their actions, the food was back on the wooden trays and they were on the bed, continuing where they had left off before the intrusion of their meal.

  The surcoat came off more quickly than before. And this time, Kirk pulled it completely free, leaving Mara naked beneath him. Between heated kisses, he somehow managed to remove his boots and finally, his damp hose. But Mara never noticed; as long as his mouth remained where it was the most pleasurable, she would pay little attention to anything else. When his hot, naked body covered her on the stale sheets, the only thing she was aware of was her own awakening desire.

  Thunder rattled the walls as Kirk’s pace increased, his kisses fast and furious. Mara gasped with unrestrained delight, her experience with the drunken soldier all but forgotten. The rude introduction to desire had not scarred her so deeply that Kirk was not able to erase the memory with his scalding hands and searching mouth. Pulling, tugging, tasting; the delights multiplied as the night deepened.

  His knees wedged between her slender thighs, sure fingers stroking her gently. Mara leapt with uncertainty but Kirk purred in her ear, words of desire and beauty that calmed her innocent heart. When his finger slipped inside her, discomfort was virtually unknown; she was slick, ready for his throbbing member. No pain, no fear; only rousing passion.

  Thunder rolled again, filling the smelly room and all but drowning out Mara’s pants of pleasure. Kirk inserted another finger into her, listening to her groan and nearly exploding with his impatience. His tongue fondled her nipples and he could feel her slippery passage contracting around his fingers, a physical response to the timeless ritual of mating.

  He removed his hand from her, no longer capable of restraining himself. Her soft, responsive body called to him and he was shaking with anticipation as he answered, placing his heavy arousal against her and pushing gently. Wet and pulsating, he slipped forward without effort.

  He was anchored, sliding deeper by the moment. Mara squirmed, her pants of pleasure less evident as he gained headway. Kirk kissed her deeply, murmuring against her mouth and promising the pain would be momentary. She was so tiny that he was surprised with the ease thus far; still, it was becoming uncomfortable for her and he was acutely aware of the fact.

  Gathering her tightly against him, he drew back and coiled his buttocks, driving into her again and feeling her maidenhood breach. Mara yelped into his mouth, the fingers clutching at him digging crescent-shaped wounds into his scalp. She continued to gasp with pain as he rolled onto his side to remove his tremendous weight off her. Holding her close and seated to the hilt, he did not realize that he was gasping, too.

  “No… no more,” Mara groaned, feeling crushed and impaled by his huge body. “I do not want to do this anymore.”

  He kissed her face, her hair. “The pain is over, lass, I promise,” he murmured tenderly. “You must trust me. ’Twill only become more pleasurable from now on.”

  She struggled feebly with him but there was no possible way to escape; he had her tightly, his throbbing manroot clutched deep within her sugared walls. When she failed to respond to his soothing words, Kirk decided to show her what he meant. Holding her against his chest with one hand, the other cupped her heart-shaped bottom and he began to move.

  Mara groaned miserably with the first couple of thrusts, feeling full and overwhelmed. But his gentle nurturing, his tender whispers, broke through her haze and instinctively she began to respond to him, experiencing the friction of his manroot as he penetrated deep. Soon enough, the discomfort gave way to a burgeoning fire that grew brighter by the moment.

  But Mara’s fire was nothing compared to Kirk’s. He was far gone with passion, feeling her silken body in his embrace, experiencing every throb of her feminine core as the most erotic of caresses. Within seconds he had reached his peak, breathing her name as he released himself deep within her. But he continued to move, feeling the slippery wetness he had put in her, wondering fleetingly if she would be with child by the time they married. He was a selfish man in that he hoped so.

  Mara felt his spasms, hearing her name on his strangled groan. But his thrusting continued as he reached between their sweating bodies, his fingers probing her wet curls. A gasping scream erupted from her lips as he gently pinched her throbbing nub, bringing her to a powerful release. Thrashing about as the waves of pleasure consumed her, Mara was vaguely aware of Kirk’s soft laughter.

  “So you like this, my little hellion,” he murmured, kissing and nuzzling every inch of her face. “I thought you would.”

  As the waves settled, Mara rasped for air. “My… my God, Kirk. What has happened?”

  He laughed again, his trencher-sized hands caressing her buttocks. “Delicious, is it not?”r />
  She swallowed, gasped, and swallowed again. She wasn’t sure how to answer him. “I feel so… weak. Weak and wonderful.”

  He was still in her, cradling her trembling body against his broad chest. “Aye, lass, weak and wonderful describes me as well. As if I have waited for this moment all my life.”

  Mara was silent a moment, listening to her heart pounding in her ears. Brushing the hair from her eyes, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “I had no idea that feelings like this were possible,” she said softly. “And I certainly would never have thought you capable of bringing them about.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “And why not?”

  She smiled faintly, a gesture he found utterly beautiful. “Because I hated you, once.”

  “You do not hate me now.”

  She shook her head, slowly. “Nay,” she reached up, touching his stubbled cheek. He kissed her fingers, the warmth and tenderness of the moment evident. “I do not.”

  The thunder rolled again and the rain pounded as he took her mouth with his own, kissing her tenderly until she fell asleep in his arms. More content that he had ever been in his life, sleep claimed him before he realized it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lord Lionel le Vay, Baron Wyresdale, was a big man with bushy black eyebrows and gray hair. He greeted Kirk as one would a lost son, welcoming him into the Norman stronghold of Quernmore Castle. And the same warm greeting went for Lionel’s flame-haired daughter as well.

  Mara tried not to lash out when Lady Lily le Vay turned her pretty smile in Kirk’s direction. And she further kept her mouth shut when the graceful young woman took his arm and escorted him into the great hall of Quernmore’s tall and block-shaped keep where a lavish table had been set. With Niles as her escort, Mara’s spirits continued to sink as she watched Lady Lily tend to Kirk hand and foot.

  The fare served by Lord Lionel was premium. He was a very wealthy man, having gained much of his wealth in shipping so close to the sea. Roast beef, ale, vegetables and sweetcakes filled the lengthy dining table as Niles helped Mara to her seat. The fair-haired knight served her himself but Mara had little appetite; her bright blue eyes were riveted to Kirk as he politely responded to Lady Lily’s attentions.

  He met Mara’s piercing stare, several times, winking reassuringly at her. But Mara refused to respond to his gesture, instead, glaring headily at the lovely young woman so obviously infatuated with him. Even after Kirk introduced Mara as Edmund’s sister-in-law, she maintained her grim mood in the face of Lady Lily’s bubbling personality.

  She seemed to be nice enough, but Mara could hardly see past her own jealousy. Lady Lily’s ladies-in-waiting joined them for the refreshments and Mara found herself contending with not one, but four women all eager to speak with Kirk. Her cheeks flushed but she said nothing, as hard as it was for her to control herself. She had promised Kirk that she would behave and was determined to keep her promise no matter what the circumstance.

  Kirk did not seem particularly interested in the women, his gaze mostly on Mara or on his food. She had long since stopped glaring in his direction, instead, focused on her trencher lest she be forced to break her promise. Next to her, Niles’ voice lifted in greeting and much to her reluctance, Mara found herself pulled into the conversation.

  Lifting her gaze, she found herself staring into the pale blue eyes of a very large, very blond knight. He was a handsome fellow with a wide, toothy grin and he took Mara’s hand chivalrously.

  “Sir Spencer de Shera, my lady,” he kissed her fingers gently, his eyes never leaving her. “At your service.”

  Mara was a fast thinker. Gazing into the face of the handsome knight, she suddenly saw the opportunity to make Kirk pay for Lady Lily’s attention. If she could only make him jealous enough that he would shun the woman and drop to his knees to beg Mara’s forgiveness, then she would ask no more. Smiling brightly at Sir Spencer, she gestured him to sit between her and Niles.

  “A pleasure, Sir Spencer,” she scooted over to allow the man room. “Would you share our meal?”

  Spencer continued to grin, practically shoving Niles to the ground in his haste. “’Twould be an honor,” he sat heavily, his scabbard pinching Mara’s thigh. She yelped and he was mortified. “Forgive me, my lady. I should have been more cautious!”

  She rubbed her leg, smiling weakly, wondering if Kirk was watching the exchange. “No harm done, truly,” she removed her hand from her throbbing thigh, collecting her chalice. “Tell me; how long have you served at Quernmore?”

  “Six years, my lady,” he could hardly eat with such a beautiful lady by his side. “Lord le Vay knighted me personally and I have been commanding his troops ever since.”

  Mara acted as if truly involved in their conversation, hoping Kirk was beginning to boil. “How splendid. Where were you born?”

  “York. My mother was Scots, royal by blood.”

  “Is that so?” she could see Niles’ expression over Spencer’ shoulder and she imagined that he looked rather on-edge. And she could guess the reason. “Very impressive. I have had several uncles that have served various kings, but I have no direct blood relation to the crown. Is your mother still living?”

  He nodded, warming to her and feeling like a giddy squire. “She and my father reside near Alnwick Castle in Northumberland. I have six younger sisters that they are trying to marry off as we speak.”

  Mara laughed. “If the ladies are anything like their brother then I am sure your parents will have little difficulty,” his freckled cheeks flushed profusely and she laughed again. “Your modesty is astounding, Sir Spencer. Surely you have been snatched by some fortunate lady?”

  He shook his head. “I have not,” his voice softened, his pale blue eyes intense. “Are… are you spoken for, my lady?”

  Mara never had the chance to reply. Kirk was suddenly between them, cleaving any further conversation. Spencer glanced up, startled by the abrupt appearance.

  “Sir K-Kirk,” he stammered, leaping to his feet. “An honor, my lord. I did not want to interrupt your conversation with Lord Lionel, else I would have greeted you already.”

  Kirk struggled to keep from wrapping his hands around Spencer’ throat. He was a good knight, intelligent and strong, and Kirk liked him a great deal. Or at least he had until the man turned his interest on Mara, who did little to discourage the attention.

  “If you will notice, Lord Lionel has left the room to tend to a brief matter,” he was growling. “Now you may properly greet me. And you will vacate this seat immediately.”

  Spencer did as he was told. Mara was sorry she had caused the man trouble, but the end result was what she hoped for; Lady Lily was alone at the head of the table. And Kirk, even though he wasn’t begging forgiveness for allowing another woman to occupy his attention, was nonetheless standing by her side.

  “I… I apologize, my lord,” Sir Spencer said respectfully. “I was not aware that I was offending anyone.”

  “You were not,” Mara said, rising from the bench. “I enjoyed meeting you, Sir Spencer. Mayhap we can continue our conversation at another time.”

  Kirk gazed down at her, suspecting what she had been up to and greatly perturbed. He was about to remove her from the room and explain his displeasure with the palm of his hand to her buttocks when Lord le Vay re-emerged into the great hall. Motioning to Kirk, the knight had no choice but to go with the man and deliver his message privately.

  But not before he looked to Mara and then to Niles. “Take her in hand, Niles,” he said deliberately, ignoring Spencer altogether. “I shall trust you and you alone.”

  Niles nodded, watching as Kirk passed a heady glare at Spencer before departing. And Spencer, normally mild-mannered and quite congenial, glared in return. Without benefit of spoken word, Niles realized the battle lines had already been drawn.

  Mara, too, wasn’t oblivious to the intense expressions between the men and it was oddly flattering. Not that Spencer had any possible chance in pursuing her; still, it
somehow made her feel more secure. As long as Kirk was willing to obviously establish that she belonged to him, then she was satisfied.

  As Kirk marched away, she called after him. He paused, waiting as she caught up to him. His expression did not soften even when she smiled.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To meet with le Vay.”

  She gazed at him a moment, studying his hard features. “Why are you so angry?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You know why. And you are not behaving yourself in the least in spite of your promise.”

  This time, she hardened. “I believe I have behaved myself quite well. I did not tear Lady Lily’s hair out by the roots when she put her hands on you, did I? And when her ladies vied for your attention, I kept silent, did I not? How dare you accuse me of breaking my promise!”

  His jaw ticked and she could see his facade wavering. “Lady Lily is certainly no threat and her ladies are barely mentionable. I am used to their silly games. But as for de Shera….” He cast a long glance at Spencer, now in conversation with Niles. “You will stay away from him, Mara.”

  “Will you stay away from Lily?”

  He sighed with frustration, laboring to keep his voice quiet. “It is different with her. I must be polite lest I offend le Vay. But with de Shera, there is no reason for you to even communicate with the man. Am I understood?”

  A smile played on her lips. “You are jealous of him.”

  He growled. “You are mine, lass, body and soul. I shall kill the man if he comes near you again.”

  Her smile broke through. “Then why do not you announce to the world that I am yours? That should keep Lily and Spencer away from us.”

  “I cannot announce anything until I speak with Edmund and he makes our betrothal official. Not that I have any doubts, but it is best to remain silent until we have his blessing.”

  Mara regarded him a moment before turning a coy gaze in Spencer’s direction. “He seems very nice, actually.”

  He was in no mood for her foolery, taunting him with her mastery over him. “Enough of that nonsense or I shall spank you as I did before.” He pointed a mailed glove in the direction of the table. “Now, go and sit with Niles and behave yourself. I do not know how long I shall be with le Vay and I do not want to worry over you while I am gone.”