The Blond Devil of the Sea: The Highland Ladies Book Three

by Barclay, Celeste

  “Shh, little one. There should never be tears after we make love.”

  “I wasn’t supposed to—I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry,” her voice hitched as she admitted her guilt.

  “Shh, Caragh. I’m not upset. I know you didn’t mean to. Your body has been even more responsive since you got with child. I shouldn’t have set an expectation that you couldn’t have met. I’m the one who should be sorry, and I am.”

  “Rowan, will you still—when we get back—please?” Caragh still couldn’t squeeze out a complete thought between her soft sobs. Rowan couldn’t control the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  “Little one, there’s no way I won’t still play with you. We shall both enjoy it. I promise.” Rowan wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  * * *

  Once both couples disentangled themselves, the men shared their plan with their wives, who adamantly shook their heads.

  “No,” Senga blurted out. “You are not leaving us behind to fear they’ve killed you.”

  “And you think we’ll take you with us to face the same threat?” Ruairí demanded. “Not bluidy likely.”

  “We’ll go ashore and determine whether we’re welcome. If we are, then we’ll return for you both. But if we aren’t, I refuse to put my pregnant wife in danger. Ruairí and I are far more experienced escaping with our lives than either of you.” Rowan regretted his last words when Caragh’s eyes widened and tears once more simmered. Reminding his wife that he’d come close to dying only a few short weeks ago wasn’t what she needed to ease her mind. “I meant he and I can move with more ease to get away than if we have a larger party.”

  “Don’t you think they would be less likely to hurt you if you travel with women? I thought your clan would have more honor than that.” Caragh’s brow furrowed as she glanced between the men.

  “Hardly,” Rowan sneered. “That’s how we came to be in this place.”

  “But your uncle is now laird. He would want to see his son and nephew,” Caragh persisted.

  “We don’t know for sure that my father is still laird. It might be my younger brother, or someone not in our family. That’s why we must take precautions. You won’t convince us otherwise.” The hard glimmer that had been missing since Ruairí met Senga had returned. Caragh recognized it and laid a hand on her cousin’s arm, giving it a squeeze. Senga nodded, recognizing the stare, even if Ruairí had never turned it on her before.

  “Very well,” Senga conceded. “We’ll wait. On deck.”

  “No!” Both men said in unison.

  “You’ll wait in one of our cabins until we return for you or order the sails hoisted.” Rowan barked.

  “Do you intend to lock us down there?” Caragh stood with arms akimbo.

  “Yes.” Both men once again spoke at the same time.

  Rowan pulled Caragh into his arms, fisting her hair and giving it a light tug until she was looking up at him. “There’s nothing I won’t do to protect you. Now we have a child to consider, too. I’ll move Heaven and Earth to make sure you never come to harm again. Do not defy me in this. Your reckoning won’t be enjoyable for either of us.” He eased his grip enough for Caragh to nod. “I love you and our little one.”

  Caragh watched a mixture of emotions flash through Rowan’s eyes as he spoke: fear, determination, love, and hope. She couldn’t deny him the love and hope, and she would do what she could to ease the fear. The determination was inevitable. She wrapped her arms around Rowan’s waist and squeezed.

  “If you believe this is what we should do, then I will obey.” She murmured. She couldn’t remember ever speaking aloud the word “obey,” even if she’d promised her obedience many times over in her surrender to Rowan’s dominance. But now she felt it was important that he have that reassurance as he stood on the threshold once again between acceptance and rejection. She would give him one less thing to worry about. She felt Rowan suck in a breath when he heard her agreement. Caragh understood what that capitulation meant to her husband, and now she wished she’d offered it sooner. “I’d do anything for you, Rowan. I love you.”

  “Just as I love you.” He tilted her head back once more, but this time with a light press of his forefinger under her chin. “Remember that always.”

  Rowan’s mouth descended to Caragh’s, and this kiss was nothing like the urgent need from only minutes ago. It was one of the softest and most tender kisses Rowan had ever offered. It was languid and giving, showing Caragh his devotion. This was the language he spoke most fluently. Words never seemed enough where Caragh was concerned.

  When Rowan and Caragh broke apart, they noticed Ruairí and Senga had been having their own private conversation. Senga was wrapped in Ruairí’s arms as she nodded her head, and he stroked her back. Senga’s whisper wafted over to Rowan and Caragh as she admitted, “I’m scared.”

  Caragh’s arms squeezed Rowan’s as she looked up at him. He slid one of her arms down until he laced his fingers with hers.

  “We won’t stay long either way. We’ll either be welcomed or turned out.” Rowan reassured the women, who also were aware of a third option: they could kill the men on sight.

  “We can plan further once we’re closer to the keep.” Ruairí added. “But for now, we intend to anchor at the mouth of the natural bay that lies below the cliffs the keep sits on. We’ll row ashore, just the two of us, while Skinny and Snake Eye row a second dinghy. They won’t come ashore unless we signal them. There’s a sea gate that we would’ve taken while we were still a part of the clan, but they’ll have it guarded and locked. Instead, we’ll walk up the cliff path. This’ll give the guards on the battlement a chance to see us and hopefully recognize us. They’ll either warn us away or welcome us before we even reach the top.”

  “If my uncle is in residence, assuming he’s still laird, the clan banner will hang from a window. If he isn’t, then we’ll be sure we shouldn’t even attempt to go ashore. Even if my mother and aunt would welcome us, they won’t have enough sway to convince the guards not to seize us.” Rowan explained. “Ruairí 's brother may the laird now, and while we were all close, he was still young when we left. We have no way of knowing what they raised him to think of us.”

  "Hopefully, your uncle ensured the clan knew why you left and why you didn't go back." Caragh squeezed Rowan's hand.

  "One can hope. But I don't know whether my father can forgive what we've become." Ruairí's face looked haggard as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.

  "One can hope they recognize you’ve been resourceful and successful businessmen who have survived greater challenges than most." Senga leaned against Ruairí as he wrapped his arm around her.

  "That's a romanticized view of what we are," Rowan admitted.

  "How’s what you've done much different from any laird who raids others, or defends his keep and clan? I don't see a difference at all." Caragh felt herself getting defensive on the captains' behalf.

  "Retract your claws, pussycat." Rowan kissed the top of Caragh's head. "This is why we shall survey the scene first."

  Both women sighed but nodded their agreement. Caragh and Rowan returned to their own ship, and both the Lady Grace and the Lady Charity were underway within the hour.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “There’s still the matter of your punishment, mo Caragh,” Rowan held up his hands and scratched his palm before flexing his fingers. “You should have more faith in me.”

  Caragh didn’t miss the hurt in Rowan’s voice. If she’d had faith in him when they encountered Ruairí at Bedruthan Steps or when Rowan dealt with Alane, they might have spared themselves such heartache. She nodded as she began pulling at the laces of her gown. Rowan stepped closer to help ease the material from her shoulders, then over her softly rounded belly. His hand paused there, possessive and protective as always. But it was only for a moment before he yanked the gown until it puddled on the floor. His hands palmed her breasts before he tweaked the sensitive nipples. He pinched and twisted until C
aragh shifted restlessly. Caragh swayed toward Rowan as he lifted her breasts, suckling one while squeezing the other. The fingers of his free hand slid over her hip to her backside, which he grasped in a punishing hold. He pulled her hips to press against his hardened cock, grinding his hips until Caragh whimpered. His fingers slid down the crease between her buttocks, searching for the tight rosebud.

  “That shall be mine tonight. But later.” Rowan continued his exploration until his fingers dipped into her drenched sheath. “It takes as little to arouse you as it does me. Ready for me already?”

  “Always,” Caragh responded on a strangled cry as he thrust against her. “Please.”

  “Not yet. I haven’t even begun your punishment.”

  “Every minute you’re touching me but aren’t in me is punishment. I ache so badly it hurts.”

  “I know, mo bhean ghaoil.” Caragh’s head fell to Rowan’s shoulder as he called her his lovely wife. She’d wanted Rowan to claim her since the beginning, and hearing him call her his wife only inflamed her more. Rowan pulled away, leaving Caragh’s grasping fingers empty. “Onto the bed.”

  Caragh heard the command in Rowan’s voice, and she recognized that the sea captain was in command, rather than her loving husband. She climbed onto the bed, but came onto all fours as Rowan rummaged through a chest at the foot of the bed.

  “Uh-uh. On your back.”

  Caragh frowned, assuming she would receive a spanking as he thrust into her. The blend of pleasure and pain always began with a heavy emphasis on pain when Rowan punished her. She did as she was told, but her eyes were glued to him as he shut the lid on the chest.

  “Close your eyes and spread your arms and legs wide, Caragh.” The edge to his voice brooked no disagreement or disobedience. Caragh responded without hesitation.

  Rowan trailed his fingers along the inside of Caragh’s thigh as she shivered, not from the cold, but anticipation. When he came to the bud hidden within her folds, he circled it with his finger until Caragh’s breathing sped into pants and soft moans. He pinched it and twisted just as he had her nipples. Her back arched as she undulated her hips, but Rowan was quick to release her before she came too close to release. He thrust three fingers into her all the way to the third knuckle and repeated the motion until Caragh’s moans grew louder. When she attempted to squeeze her thighs together and trap his fingers within her sheath, Rowan pulled away, pushing against her thighs, then spanking the vulnerable skin.

  “As much as I enjoy watching you come, I also enjoy controlling when that happens. This is a punishment, not playtime. At least not for you.” Rowan’s voice still held the edge of command. “Disobey, and you shall go without release tonight while you suck me off for my pleasure. Understand?”

  “Yes, Rowan.” Caragh’s voice was strong but quiet as Rowan trailed his hand up to her breasts. He once again kneaded both before blowing over the pink darts that rose to meet his mouth. He lapped them before skimming his teeth over them, alternating sides. Squeezing, he took as much of her breast into his mouth as possible, suckling and biting. He released her when his cock pulsed, and he feared spilling in his breeches.

  Rowan stood and gazed at Caragh as he adjusted himself. He didn’t dare remove his pants, or Caragh’s punishment would end before it began. His aching bollocks were insisting he plunge into her sheath and satisfy their demand for release. Instead, he placed a cravat over her eyes and cinched it behind her head, making sure it was secure without knotting it. He wanted Caragh’s head to rest comfortably.

  “Rowan?”

  “Yes, mo ghràidh. Don’t fear what’s coming. Surrender to me, and your punishment will become your pleasure.”

  “I’ve already surrendered. I submit to you, too. I just miss seeing you.”

  “Then that shall be part of your punishment as well. Roll over.”

  Once she rested on her belly, not yet large enough to make it uncomfortable, Rowan reached across Caragh, grasping her wrist and securing it to the other with another cravat before using a third to tie her wrists to the bed frame. He turned toward her legs and tied each ankle to a bedpost. He knew he had kept the cravats for a reason; he just hadn’t known that reason until now. Rowan climbed onto the bed and settled between Caragh’s thighs. Once more his hand rained down a sharp slap against the sensitive skin of her folds. He lowered his head until he smelled her as easily as he tasted her. He flicked his tongue out, teasing her entrance before pressing his flattened tongue against her, licking the entire length from stem to stern. His fingers spread her cheeks wide before grazing over the puckered skin. He tapped his fingertip until she relaxed, and the tip pressed inside.

  “Don’t forget that shall be mine again tonight.”

  “It’s always yours,” Caragh whispered, trying to raise her hips in offering, but Rowan’s palm landed with a ringing slap across one cheek before landing on the other.

  “I would take my belt to you, or even the riding crop I have stored away somewhere, but not while you are carrying.” Caragh heard Rowan moving about, but she couldn’t tell what he was doing, nor could she tell when the next spanking would happen. The nervousness and anticipation had her heart racing. She noticed the cabin had gone silent except for her rasping breaths. She might have thought Rowan left, but the door clicked both when it opened and closed. She tried to shift her head to strain her ears, but there were no sounds but her own.

  Rowan watched as Caragh’s body stiffened as she attempted to hear or sense where he stood. He’d never shown Caragh how silent he could be when he crept toward his prey. He’d never needed to, but it was a skill he learned while still living with his clan. He’d learned how to stalk game with a silent tread, and he used that now as he approached. Rowan noticed the light gleam of perspiration at her hairline as her nervousness took hold. He waited a moment longer until he could tell she bordered on fear. He didn’t want her ever to fear him. He whipped the drying linen he’d taken from the chest and snapped it against her backside, her only warning the brief whistle as it sailed through the air before the ringing sound of it hitting flesh. Caragh cried out, unprepared for the stinging contact. Rowan repeated the motion as he delivered slaps to each cheek, then to the tops of her thighs. He shifted and aimed for the horizontal crease where her backside met her thighs before snapping it against her sheath. Caragh moaned and whimpered, but never begged him to stop. Instead, she tried to lift her hips once more in offering, but Rowan’s hand pressed her lower back until her belly once more rested on the bed. His hand remained there, but with no pressure. He was always cautious not to be too rough with her, as fear for her and their child had taken permanent root in the back of his mind.

  Caragh breathed through each stinging lash of the drying linen, teetering between pain and pleasure. She accepted Rowan had spoken the truth when he warned that there would be more pain before there would be pleasure. Her mind was slipping towards the blank place where she released control to Rowan and allowed herself to just feel. Rowan stroked her back between her shoulder blades down to where his hand had rested a moment ago. The spankings slowed until his other hand was rubbing the burn from her backside. He kissed each cheek before releasing her ankles.

  “Turn over,” Rowan’s voice was soothing as Caragh twisted onto her back. Rowan retied her ankles before climbing back between her thighs. He had stripped off his breeches as she rolled over, his rod grateful for the freedom. He stroked himself thrice as he looked at Caragh tied to their bed beneath his stare. Her breasts heaved as she sucked in lungfuls of air and her body settled from the stimulation. He brought his body down over hers, resting his weight on his forearms as the head of his cock pressed against her entrance.

  “You’re brave, mo ghràidh. Not a moment of begging or avoidance. You shall have your reward now.” He thrust into her with all the force he dared. Caragh’s moan beside his ear had him nearly swallowing his tongue as pleasure surged through him, pushing him to climax too soon. It was his turn to suck in deep breaths as he tri
ed to calm his demanding rod.

  “I won’t break. I showed you that. More, Rowan. Please,” her last word a plea. “You won’t let me touch you or see you, so more. I need you.”

  Rowan heard the need and understood Caragh’s frustration; he wasn’t sure he could withstand being blindfolded and bound while making love to her. He derived much of his pleasure from watching Caragh’s expressions change as they moved together, and he knew it was the same for her. But he wasn’t willing to cede control, or even share it during this joining. He dropped his head in a surprise attack of her mouth, thrusting his tongue in time with his hips. She sucked him in further, desperation driving her to devour him. Rowan ripped the blindfold away but did nothing to remove her binding. Her sigh and blinding smile made kissing her once more irresistible. He tangled his hand in her hair as he positioned her head for him to plunder her mouth. He intended to control the kiss, but Caragh’s hunger matched his.

  Their moans and grunts blended together to create a symphony only they would appreciate. Caragh cried out her first release as Rowan reared back onto his knees and gripped her hips. His fingers dug into her flesh, and he relished that they would leave a mark. His mark. Rowan was losing the control he sought. He forced himself to tame his thrusts, but Caragh’s responding growl shattered his determination not to be rough. He surged over and over until Caragh screamed once more, a blush of pleasure rising from her chest to her throat, blossoming across her cheeks. Rowan fought to hold out longer. He dropped back onto his forearm, his hand tangled once more in her hair, as his other hand gripped her hip. Her mouth sought his, her lips parted, an invitation he wouldn’t refuse. As their lips fused together, Rowan gave one last thrust before their hips fused as well. Their climax pressed their bodies against one another until the wave of pleasure crashed over Caragh, and Rowan no longer felt his cock jerking within Caragh.