Captured Hearts and Stolen Kisses

by Ceci Giltenan et al.

  He whipped an arm around her, pulling her hard against him for a crushing kiss. When he tore his mouth from hers, his expression was fierce.

  “I nigh lost my mind, Katla. I wanted you – needed you – so much, yet I was unable to return to you. It almost broke me. Bergthora’s brother would’ve brought me here, but he was away on a long journey to purchase precious cloth and spices in eastern lands. “So” – he nuzzled her neck, nipping her skin – “I paid a Norseman a huge sum for passage to Orkney, knowing I could then find a Scotland-bound vessel. My men agreed to stay on at my father’s farm to work on the Solan. They would then sail her on their own to Druimbegan, joining me.”

  “That didn’t work?”

  “The Norseman was wily – a thief! He took my coin and left without me. Word was that he’d lied about his destination, no’ intending at all to sail for Orkney.” He rolled over her then, and she drew up her knee to lock her leg around him, craving the intimate contact – the press of her womanly parts against his thigh. “He was heading west,” he said, his voice roughening as he pushed up on his arms to look down at her. “He was a fool, thinking to find treasure on some fabled isle beyond the world’s end.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “So was I.” He splayed one hand across her breasts, rubbing and plumping them. “Half crazed is what I was. But I was also determined. If the Solan had been beyond repair, I would have found another way to leave Iceland.” Lowering his head, he swirled his tongue around a nipple, slid one hand lower, to the smooth flatness of her belly. “There isn’t a sea broad enough or a land so vast to keep me from you. Even if the old gods swooped down from Asgard and blocked my path, I’d have battled them.”

  Katla believed him.

  “Oh, Gunnar.” Her eyes began leaking, so she turned her head to the side, her entire body trembling as he drew the tip of her breast into his mouth, the sensations that then rippled through her, almost splitting her, so wondrous were they.

  The joy in her heart was even greater.

  Especially when - for a magical, fleeting moment – she was sure she’d seen two huge silver wolves lope through the shimmering light-curtain as it danced across the snow on the far side of Odin’s Flame’s summit.

  She blinked, and they were gone.

  Gunnar was, too, for he’d left her breasts to slip down between her legs where he now knelt, looking at her, but not at her face. He was staring down at the part of her that now tingled and ached, his hands braced on her thighs as he eased her knees even wider apart, freeing her to his view.

  She froze, both excited and embarrassed. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing we havenae enjoyed before!”

  “But…”

  “You are even more beautiful than in my memory,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I’ll no’ be letting you from my sight e’er again – no’ in this lifetime.”

  “I don’t want you to let me go,” she said, any other words spiraling away because he’d lowered his head to kiss her – right where she burned so hotly. Unable to help herself, she lifted her hips, rocking against him as pure womanly lust shot through her.

  “That’s my lass.” His words came muffled, the licks and swirls of his tongue, almost too glorious to bear. Her emotions, both the earthy ones and her love for him surged through her, filling her with the sweetest, most golden warmth.

  As if he knew, he opened his mouth over her, drawing on her, rhythmically, maddeningly. She began to tremble, rolled her hips closer to his pleasure-spending mouth, his tongue…

  “Aye, sweet, enjoy.” His voice was husky, raw with his own desire. “Gods, but I love you!”

  “Not as much as I love you,” she rasped, digging her fingers into the thick fur of his cloak. “That’s not possible.”

  A deep chuckle answered her, another blissful drag of his tongue along the very center of her.

  Then he lifted his head to glance up at her. “You must learn no’ to challenge a MacLeod. For if you do, we’ll keep after you till we prove you wrong.”

  “Is that so?”

  He grinned, darkly. “True as I’m savoring the taste o’ ye.”

  She laughed. “Then I’ll say it again – I love you more.”

  Chapter 16

  “I’ll not give, ever.” Katla clenched her fists, dug her heels into the thick pelt of Gunnar’s silver wolf cloak. The fiend had his big hands clamped around her knees, holding her thighs open as he ravished her. She couldn’t keep her hips from arching, and his warm breath across her most tender flesh was almost as maddening as the lash and swirl of his tongue.

  Even so, she wouldn’t surrender.

  So she thrust her fingers in his hair, grabbing fistfuls as she met his amused gaze. “MacKenzies are more stubborn than any barnacle-backed MacLeod!”

  “Barnacle-backed?” His chuckle rumbled through her. “Sweet lass, insults only spur me on.”

  “Brine-drinker!” she hissed, twisting her hands in his hair as he opened his mouth over her again, turning his attention to a tiny, intensely sensitive spot.

  He didn’t argue this time, but she felt his smile, the tickle of his beard on intimate places. Heated tingles sped across her skin and the most delicious sensations whirled between her legs where he kissed, licked, and drew on her, tirelessly. His hair slid across the insides of her thighs, adding to her torment as waves of pleasure spilled through her, each one more intense. He glided his hands up over her hips and sides until he reached her breasts. Rubbing and kneading them, gently rolling their peaks between his fingers, he tantalized her until she was sure she’d break apart. When he finally seized her hands, twining their fingers and squeezing tight, her entire body pulsed, shattering from within.

  She thought she heard him give a quiet laugh.

  But she couldn’t tell because the night careened around her, a blur of the summit’s blue-white snow, and the dazzling reds and greens of the light-curtain. The colors all somehow blended to flash behind her closed eyes, even race along her nerves. Or so it seemed, for she wasn’t sure of anything, only that she’d unraveled.

  “No’ bad for a barnacle-backed brine-drinker, eh?”

  “Oh!” She snapped her eyes open to find that he’d climbed over her and was looking down at her, clearly amused. She met his gaze, her body still thrumming.

  Then she remembered. “You did laugh.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Only for the joy of seeing you take your pleasure.”

  “And yours?”

  “Mine is in having you back.”

  “That is not enough.” She reached up to touch his cheek, caress his beard.

  “Precious lass.” He took her hand, kissing each finger, nipping the ball of her thumb. “I say it is so much that all the world’s oceans couldn’t contain my gladness.”

  His words flowed through her to curl around her heart, the look in his eyes as he’d said them, warming her even more than Skuli’s and Tova’s enchanted cloak.

  “Oh, Gunnar.” She blinked up at him, not shaming the tears stinging her eyes.

  However had she stood the two long years without him, the emptiness and longing?

  “You mustn’t cry,” he said. “You’ll worry the wolves. Did you no’ see them?”

  “I did.” Wonder filling her, she looked around. “I don’t see them now, though.”

  “And you willnae, for they were hurrying away, no’ wanting to intrude on our time together.” He glanced at the very spot she’d seen the wolf pair, a half smile playing around his mouth. “I told you they’re loyal. Considerate, too.”

  “So they were here? Truly?”

  He didn’t blink. “Do ye no’ trust your own eyes?”

  “I do.”

  “Then, aye, we were blessed with a glimpse of them.” His voice roughened, and he leaned down to kiss her, softly this time, his mouth barely touching hers. “‘Tis a good omen for a couple to see them. A sign that the pair will live a long and happy life together, just as they did.”


  What are you saying? Katla meant to ask, but his expression changed, his eyes darkening, as he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply.

  “You are mine,” he vowed when he pulled away. “Here at this sacred place, before Odin and all his northern gods – before any god, any man who’d dare try to rend us.”

  “No one could, ever.”

  “I’m glad you agree, because I want you for my wife. If you’ll have me - I’ll claim you now in the old way.”

  Katla’s breath caught, her heart pounding so wildly, she couldn’t speak.

  She knew what he was saying – asking – and it was all she’d dreamt of for so long. He was the man she’d ached for, the man she loved so desperately, and had feared never to see again. She’d thought that she’d lost him forever.

  Now…

  She opened her mouth to cry ‘yes,’ but her throat had closed with emotion.

  “My heart!” he spoke for her, apparently seeing the answer in her smile, the tears leaking from her eyes.

  His own smile flashing, he reached down between them, taking the hard length of his manhood to nudge gently against her, seeking entry. Then, before she could blink, he plunged into her. No, he came home to her. The rightness of it, the glorious sense of fullness he gave her as they joined, was nothing less than miraculous. Bliss filled her, intense pleasure in each rhythmic glide of his body moving in and out of hers. She gripped his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips, lifting her own to meet his thrusts.

  “My sweet, wild love.” He cradled her face, locking his gaze on hers as he rode her. “Can you tell how much I’ve missed you?”

  “Not as much as I did you,” she said, letting her own eyes twinkle as she curled her hand around the back of his neck, drawing him down to her so she could kiss him.

  She loved his kisses and was sure that even if she lived a thousand years, she’d never tire of them. That she’d always crave his deep, open-mouthed assault, all tangling tongues and shared, earthy breaths. He kissed her that way now, his masterful tongue matching the glides of his equally skilled maleness. Until the light-curtain dancing around them rushed closer to twirl right across the silver wolf cloak. Her heart thundered and she may have cried out as the winter fire caught and lifted them, spinning them round and round in an ancient whirl of shattering bliss.

  ~ * ~

  Long hours later, or perhaps only an eye-blink, Gunnar wakened to find Katla snuggled against him. She was so perfect for him that it almost hurt his heart to gaze down at her. Kintail-born and of MacKenzie blood, she wasn’t the high-ranking daughter of a carefully-chosen noble as he might’ve been saddled with if his father had remained laird. To him, she was so much more. He loved her, he’d made her his wife in the sacred way of the ancients, and he couldn’t imagine living without her.

  Even his clan’s revered spirit wolves had blessed their union.

  Now, he only had to openly claim her from Duncan MacKenzie, giving the Black Stag his just due and courtesy as her chieftain. And – he closed his eyes, drew a breath – he’d make sure that his cousin never came within a mile of her. Better yet, that the bastard was banished from Skye.

  Spending his life eking out an existence on a lone spit of rock somewhere in a remote corner of the Hebridean Sea would serve as punishment.

  Ross would slowly lose his wits, as he’d sought to convince John was happening to him.

  But first…

  Gunnar glanced down at Katla, sleeping in his arms. His cloak covered them, but he could feel her hand resting on his chest, her fingers curled into his chest hair. She’d draped a leg across his thighs, and the soft heat of her rubbed against him, a rousing delight he looked forward to waking to for the rest of his life.

  For now, he skimmed his fingers along the curve of her cheek, across the silk of her hair. He doubted he’d ever tire of touching her, of pulling her into his arms and kissing her. He knew he’d never weary of sinking deep inside her so they could rock together as one.

  But there was so much more.

  The brightness of her smile was a gift of the gods; the joy of her laughter, a balm to his soul. Her great affection for her wee dog, and how she cared for him, told him she’d make a wonderful and loving mother. Everything about her swelled his heart, the light in her eyes could warm him for all eternity.

  Did he deserve such happiness as she gave him?

  He doubted it, but was grateful.

  “You are a treasure,” he murmured, kissing her brow lightly, not wanting to disturb her.

  But, of course, he did.

  “Oh!” She sat up, blinking. “Why didn’t you waken me?”

  “I just did.” He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. “Though I’ll admit I enjoyed a few moments watching you sleep so peacefully in my arms.

  “‘Tis an honor I have dreamed of.” He cupped her cheek, leaned down to kiss her.

  She twined her arms around his neck and melted into him, almost dashing his plans for the day when she opened her mouth beneath his, greeting his tongue with a few wickedly sensuous twirls of her own. His loins sprang tight, his hardness straining against her, demanding attention.

  “Katla…” He glanced at the sky, saw that the winter fire was receding. Indeed, the first gray of dawn already smudged the eastern horizon. “It will soon be daylight. We shouldnae-”

  “Pah!” Smiling, she was already scrambling up from beneath the furred cloak.

  “I say we should!” Tossing back her hair, she straddled him. “Every moment we enjoy together is earned,” she declared, thrusting a hand down to seize and position him. “Especially moments like this – for I already ache to feel you inside me again.”

  Her bold words made his blood rush, sent desire roaring through him. “Lass, you bring me to my knees.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “You do wondrous things when you’re kneeling.”

  “Odin, save me.” He ran a hand through his hair, knowing exactly what she meant – and craving her that way again, the gods damn his lust for her.

  Yet…

  They needed to leave.

  He’d wanted her home before Eilean Creag stirred.

  But before he could set her from him, she grabbed his hands, threading their fingers as she lowered herself onto him. She began to move at once, her sweetly curved hips rising and falling. Her breasts bounced and swayed, the sight almost undoing him. But it was the clench of her sleek female heat that ripped away his restraint, leaving him no choice but to throw back his head and cry out her name as his seed gushed into her, hot, copious, and – he hoped – planting his son deep inside her.

  ~ * ~

  “You want us away from here.” Katla waited until they’d both dressed before she spoke. She’d needed time to recover her breath, for her racing heartbeat to slow. “I see it all over you,” she declared, for he’d just shaken out his cloak and was now slinging it across his shoulders. “The winter fire is gone.”

  “Nae, it isnae.” He glanced to the north where the last shimmers of light rippled across the higher peaks.

  “But it soon will be.”

  “Must you aye argue?” He came over to her, set his hands on her shoulders. “Doing so will change naught. And it takes time away from kissing.”

  As if to prove it, he bracketed her face, leaning in to give her a hard, lip-bruising kiss. An almost desperate claiming, as if this wasn’t a brief parting, but farewell.

  “You said you’d come for me,” she reminded him the moment he released her.

  “So I shall.” He glanced toward the heart of Kintail where the morning’s light was just strengthening enough to reveal the glint of Loch Duich and the dark bulk of Eilean Creag Castle. “But it willnae be this day, nor the morrow. You may no’ remember for I told you in the night, but my cousin has gone missing.”

  “Mercy!”

  “He is nae your worry.” He turned back to her. “I’ll no’ let him near you. But neither will I rest until I find him. He’s done a g
reat wrong to my uncle, tricking him into thinking he’d gone daft.

  “I cannae let that be.” He frowned, shaking his head slowly. “He’s gone too far.”

  “You will fight him?” Katla’s heart lurched.

  “If I must, aye.” He slid his arms around her, holding her tight. “It willnae come to that, dinnae you worry. Ross is a coward. He will run before I can pull my sword. And when he flees, my men and I will catch him. I mean to banish him, see him shipped to a tidal rock far out to sea.”

  She started to argue – to declare that Ross’s perfidy fired her Viking blood. That she’d call up a shield wall to crush him, leaving his broken remains for the ravens. But even as she opened her mouth, the crunch of footsteps on frozen ground heralded the approach of many men. And she knew who they were.

  “Your oarsmen are coming.”

  “Aye.” He didn’t deny it. “I told them to be here at sunrise. They will see you home, staying with you until you are on the far side of Eilean Creag’s gate. If anyone sees them, you ken – they wear the white robes of wandering druids. No one will blink if you say you ventured too far yestere’en and they offered you a safe place beside their fire for the night.

  “Though, early as it yet is, I doubt you will have any trouble.” He lowered his head, kissing her one last time. “Dinnae fret o’er me,” he said, straightening just as his men crested the rise. “I will come for you as soon as I can.

  “I’ll be there for the two of you,” he amended, his gaze flicking to her middle.

  “Oh, Gunnar!” She pressed her hand to her belly, hoping he was right. Her eyes misting, she beamed up at him, needing to make one small correction…

  “There will be three of us, don’t forget.”

  He laughed, and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “That I ken! You, the bairn I hope you carry, and your wee, e’er barking dog.”

  “That’s right.” Her heart split when he returned her smile. “We will be waiting.”

  “I shall count on it.”

  He said no more because his big, burly, oarsmen were traipsing up to them, the whole lot grinning like fools and looking even sillier for the billowing white bedsheets flapping around their strong, hard-muscled legs.