The Highlander’s Demand

by Wine, Mary

  He lifted her chin, leaning down to press a kiss against her mouth. Heat stirred inside her as she smiled and started to walk away from him.

  His lips slowly curled up as he gazed at her face and reached out to catch a handful of her skirt. He pulled her back against him.

  “I’m going to kiss ye until ye are breathless, lass.”

  He made good on his threat. All she managed to do was realize just how much she enjoyed having her hands on him. Her fingertips were pressed to the hard muscle covering his chest, making her regret the layers of clothing between them. She pressed her fingertips through the opening in his shirt, near his collar bones.

  “Do nae be shy,” he whispered against her throat. “Bare me.”

  He was too much temptation to ignore. She found the end of the tie that kept his shirt closed at the neck and pulled on it.

  “Now touch me,” he encouraged.

  His hands were threaded into her hair, dislodging the pins she’d used to put it up. She knew what he would do… He would kiss the side of her neck, sending ripples of excitement down her spine before lifting his head and looking at her hair. One hair pin would be plucked and then he’d press his mouth to her skin once more. The knot of her hair was growing heavy, starting to drop.

  She drew her hands down to the buttons on his doublet, her fingers fumbling with them because she was trembling. But she managed, finally pushing the sides wide.

  “Aye, that’s the way, lass.”

  He buried his face in her hair as he drew in a deep breath.

  Her head was pressed against his chest, filling her senses with the scent of his skin. Without a doubt, it was intoxicating, and she wanted more.

  More intensity.

  More brazenness.

  Submission was suddenly not enough for her. The yearning inside her craved something far more aggressive. She wanted to take him. Push him to the same extremes he’d done to her.

  “Christ Almighty!” Buchanan lifted his head as she closed her hands around his length.

  She looked up, wanting to see his face as she boldly grasped his cock. “I did like it when ye touched me on me sex. Do ye like it?”

  His length was hard.

  “Aye,” he growled in response.

  The husky tone encouraged her. It was strangely erotic, introducing her to an entirely new sensation. One she’d heard rumors about when her father’s kitchen staff hadn’t thought she was around. Women spoke in hushed, excited whispers of the ways they kept their lovers returning to them time and again.

  She pulled her hand up his length and smiled as his breath caught.

  “Shall I milk ye, then?” she asked softly.

  “Who taught ye such a thing?” His voice quavered.

  Never had she imagined to reduce him or any man to such a state. Her confidence swelled as she repeated her motions.

  “From the maids…when they thought I was gone to bed,” she answered as she made it to the tip of his member. There was a drop of fluid on it.

  “Somehow, I do nae think ye learned…what ye….did to me….by just…listening…”

  Buchanan clasped his fingers around her nape. His hold was firm, just shy of painful. She froze, wondering if she’d gone too far.

  “Stroke me,” he implored.

  His words were almost more of a sound than words. But she understood the language. It was part instinct, part yearning. She was moving her hand back down to the base of his member as she watched his eyes glitter. The sight set off an intense need to push him toward the edge of his limits as he’d done with her.

  She moved her hand faster.

  His breath became hard and heavy, but he maintained eye contact with her, sharing the moment. At the top of her sex, her pearl was heating, becoming a live coal that felt as though it were red hot. Then he grunted and covered her hand with his own.

  He was at the edge…

  “I’m going to have ye now,” he said. “Here.”

  He tugged her to him, lifting her off her feet as he turned her around and sat her on the edge of his desk. She had no care for where the ink well was, for there was nothing in her thoughts except him. The need was raging like a fire on a dry, thatch roof. The flames eagerly consuming everything.

  “Take me,” she encouraged him. “I will have ye, too.”

  He pushed her skirts up and pressed her thighs wide. “Aye, ye will Rhedyn.” He cupped her chin as he fit the head of his cock against her wet folds. “Do nae ever plan to leave me.”

  There was a warning in his tone, one he enunciated with a firm thrust. His cock slid inside her, making her gasp in pleasure. Somehow, she’d never realized how much sensation her body was capable of feeling. Now she knew. It was being revealed to her in every powerful stroke. Each thrust made her gasp as the pleasure built. Deep inside her, it felt like a knot was tightening. She lifted her hips, moving toward his thrusts in a quest for fulfilment.

  They both craved their reward, straining toward one another, working at a furious pace until satisfaction burst within them. He caught her cry of rapture with his mouth as he thrust deeply and delivered his seed. It filled her body, searing her insides as a deeper tremor went through her.

  She’d have collapsed onto the desk if he didn’t hold her up. He stroked her back, running his hands down her spine. Sweat coated her skin, and her legs quivered as though she’d been running.

  He held her for what seemed an eternity. With her head pressed to his chest, all she heard was his heartbeat.

  She didn’t need anything else.

  *

  Muir was waiting outside the door of the chamber where the books were kept when Rhedyn went to seek out supper.

  “Evening, mistress.” He reached up and tugged on the corner of his cap. “Supper?” he asked hopefully.

  Muir was a burly Retainer. His arms were thick with muscle from training with a sword. He’d never looked at her unkindly before but now, there was a slight curve to his lips.

  Well, ye are no longer a prisoner.

  Yet, she still had a guard. Muir trailed her to the hall. He followed her to the high table and even pulled out the chair for her. The moment she was seated, he hurried to one of the lower tables and sat down with a grin.

  Rhedyn looked toward her husband.

  “The matter has been discussed and decided upon wife,” Buchanan said before she’d opened her mouth. A challenge was glittering in his eyes as he met her gaze. “Yet, I will be happy to retire if ye would like to discuss it again.”

  A blush heated her cheeks.

  But that wasn’t the only place warmth teased her flesh. The look of determination in his eyes begged for a retort.

  “In truth,” she muttered in a near whisper, “I might have confessed just how little I care to sit here, rather than retire, with ye….”

  Buchanan leaned toward her to catch her words. She watched his expression change as he considered what she had said.

  “But Muir would be deprived of his supper,” Rhedyn continued. “I wouldn’t want such a sin resting on my conscience.”

  Buchanan’s eyes narrowed. He suddenly pushed his chair back. The heavy piece of furniture made a harsh sound as it skidded.

  “Muir!”

  Buchanan’s voice bounced down the great hall, silencing nearly everyone.

  “Me wife craves my attention. Good night.”

  Muir had a piece of bread in his mouth. He lifted his head and sent Buchanan a huge smile. Buchanan reached down and grasped the back of her chair, pulling it back with her still sitting in it.

  God, the man was strong!

  Her heart raced as he pulled her out one of the side entrances of the great hall. Behind them, amusement erupted, making her cheeks sting with embarrassment.

  By the time they reached his chamber, it felt like her blood was speeding through her veins. She was so warm, her clothing bothered her.

  “Do nae begrudge me teasing ye, lass.”

  Buchanan had turned her loose into his ch
amber. He took up a position in front of the door. The look on his face gave her a moment of pause, for there was a need there, one which wasn’t centered on passion.

  No, he was waiting to see what she made of his behavior. He was watching her. Intent on her. She felt her eyelashes fluttering, a strange sense of shyness enveloping her. But her lips were twitching up into a little smile as she shifted back across the length of the chamber.

  His chamber.

  She recalled it and yet, the scent of the room suddenly struck her as being his. She reached up and drew the linen cap she’d worn off her head.

  “Aye,” he muttered approvingly, stepping toward her.

  Rhedyn dropped the cap on a table and held up a single finger. Buchanan froze, waiting on her command. It filled her with confidence and made her breathless. She began to draw the pins from her hair as he watched. His expression tightened as she freed the entire mass and used her fingers to comb it all.

  “More,” he said.

  His tone was edged with authority, but it suited his nature. She turned her back on him, peeking over her shoulder.

  His lips rose into a grin at her response. The circumstances of her arrival meant there were only a few garments available for her to wear. They were more common than the dresses she’d had at home and laced up the front.

  Tonight, she enjoyed the simplicity of her wardrobe, pulling the lace free on her bodice. Her breasts relaxed as she let the bodice slip down her arms. Her skirts were dropped quickly, too.

  But Buchanan scooped her up before she’d stepped out of the puddle they made around her ankles. She gasped, never having heard him approach.

  “I want to carry ye to me bed. And place ye there….and make ye enjoy being in it so much, ye will never be content to sleep anywhere else.”

  She was eager to test his words. The bed was a strange, unexpected haven. A place where she met a companion she’d never expected to find in life. Together, they were suddenly a force that felt invincible when pitted against the endless challenges of life.

  Was that whimsy?

  She didn’t know.

  And what was more, she didn’t care. All that mattered was reaching for the man intent on proving himself to her. The result was stunning. It was glorious, filling her with a sense of contentment which lasted far past when passion had ebbed.

  Long into the dark hours of the night, he held her close. Intimacy gained a new meaning for her as she felt the way he curved around her, unwilling to let her go.

  *

  Hamish crumpled a letter as his men watched him. He threw it into the fire before looking back at them. The demanding looks on their face restored his confidence. He was their leader. Something he’d always craved.

  “That Lindsey bitch has enchanted the laird,” Hamish declared.

  There was growling in response.

  “She’ll taint the bloodline of the Mackenzie if we allow the matter to go unchecked,” he continued.

  There were nods of agreement.

  “What is yer plan?” Arlo asked. “I’ve no liking for the girl.”

  Hamish nodded. “We’ll use her to lure Buchanan out of the stronghold where I can challenge him.”

  The words had been inside him, unspoken for a long time. Hamish felt like he’d crossed a bridge at last, one he’d been told he could never tread upon for so long.

  He realized he’d craved it more than anything else.

  “I would have followed Iain, with loyalty,” he raised his voice so the other men might hear. “Now that he is slain, I must step up and ensure the Lindsey do nae go unpunished. Buchanan has betrayed his own brother. He isn’t fit to be laird of the Mackenzies!”

  Chapter Seven

  Time wasn’t waiting for anyone.

  Least of all, Rhedyn.

  The days began to fly as the summer heat arrived. There was ample work for everyone, but the books stubbornly persisted in occupying her every moment.

  Still, it was her duty.

  When her monthly courses arrived, she suddenly found herself being the source of gossip once again. Bearing children for her husband had, of course, been something she’d been taught was of the upmost importance.

  Somehow, she’d hadn’t really realized how dire her circumstances might be if she failed in accomplishing the duty quickly.

  She’d been lulled into a sense of security. It was shattered as news of her monthly flow made its way throughout the stronghold. By noon, she was being cast looks of disapproval. Venturing into the hall for the midday meal felt very much like the first time she’d appeared there as a captive.

  So, she hurried back to her books, happy to have something which didn’t glare at her.

  “Do nae allow them to trouble ye,” Shona appeared in the doorway of the chamber.

  Rhedyn looked up from the pages she was attempting to decipher. A list of goods sold at the local market was scratched out on the parchment, but it had clearly rained that day and water marks made it nearly impossible to read.

  Shona placed a plate on the side of the table. “Ye ate nearly naught.”

  “I didn’t think that there would be such a reaction to not conceiving the very first month I am here.” Rhedyn reached for the plate, but once she’d moved the cloth covering the food, she realized her belly was tied in knots.

  “Being the mistress, the staff feels they have the right to know every last detail of yer personal business,” Shona said. “Surely things are not so different on Lindsey land?”

  Rhedyn let out a sigh. “The truth is, as a daughter, I was shielded from much of the ugliness.”

  “Ah….” Shona said. “Kept ignorant so ye will no’ make trouble when it comes time to wed the man yer father picked out for ye.”

  It was the fate of most daughters, and the tone of Shona’s voice made it plain the girl considered it something that simply was unavoidable.

  Reality was full of sharp edges.

  There was a gleam in Shona’s eyes. It was both a warning and a look of approval. Rhedyn drew in a deep breath.

  She’d face the challenges.

  Somehow, she’d dredge up the strength.

  Oh? And what about Buchanan? What if he is as disappointed as his kin?

  She wanted to shake off the thought. It was gloomy, indeed, and on the heels of such a wonderful two weeks with Buchanan near her, the thought made her eyes sting with unshed tears.

  Tears?

  Rhedyn was horrified by the idea of crying for no reason.

  Yet, she had a reason. Disappointing the staff, well, that was something she could make peace with. But she realized that her heart ached to think of Buchanan being disappointed in her not conceiving.

  Would he put her out?

  She hated the thought. Looking back down at her work, she tried to force the idea from her mind by concentrating on her task.

  Yet it persisted, needling her.

  “Why are ye worried?”

  Cora was standing in the doorway now. Muir was watching from outside. Cora’s eyes glittered as she stepped inside and shut the door.

  “I would think it better to know ye are not stuck in this marriage just yet,” Cora said.

  “I suppose” Rhedyn answered. She took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Since I am getting the accounts into order, it is a perfect time for you to work on yer skills as well.”

  Cora looked at the stacks of paper waiting to be input into the account ledger. “I have no liking for such tasks.”

  Rhedyn stood. “Neither do I. However, it is the skill of the mistress of the house. A position ye will have at some point. Hence, ye should make certain ye are up to the task.”

  Cora crossed her arms over her chest. “What if I refuse to wed?”

  Rhedyn took a deep breath and released it. “Ye have not even met the man.”

  “He has never even written me a letter,” Cora said.

  “Perhaps he has.” Rhedyn pointed to a pile of letters waiting on the table.

  Co
ra was curious. She moved toward the table which held over thirty letters. They were folded into different sized squares and sealed with wax. She selected one and broke the seal.

  Rhedyn looked at the bottom of the page and realized Laird Grant had written on behalf of his son.

  Her belly knotted. Laird Grant was attending to the details of securing the only sibling of the Mackenzie laird for his son.

  So cold.

  Cora locked gazes with her. The look in the girl’s eyes was one Rhedyn understood.

  Helplessness…

  And the glitter of rebellion.

  Rhedyn took the letter and held the corner of it over the candle flame. The parchment caught easily, a bright flame eating away at the letter until she had to drop it onto the floor.

  “Let the Grants receive no letters for a change,” Rhedyn said.

  “I like ye Rhedyn,” Cora remarked softly.

  “Cormac might feel the same as ye do,” Rhedyn remarked.

  Cora offered her a sad smile. “True. Yet, he will no’ be leaving his home or promising to obey.”

  She looked at the little pile of ash on the floor. “Aye, let them wait for a change.”

  Cora was gone a moment later. Rhedyn might have liked to go after her, but she discovered she had no words to offer the girl. She’d done all she might.

  Now, Rhedyn would have to hope fate offered Cora more than a groom who only saw her as a necessary component of a business alliance.

  *

  “Waste of the laird’s time, that’s what she is.”

  Cora had learned to hide in the shadows only recently. Rhedyn seemed to be the only one who really looked at her as a woman. But those around her, her kin, they wanted to keep her blind to what reality would eventually deliver to her. The truth was, she allowed them to think she was immature when in fact, she understood far more than they realized. Playing dumb was very effective in being able to hear things which were meant to be kept from her.

  She wasn’t going to the Grant land like a lamb to the slaughter. And she wasn’t going to be naive either. Men liked virgin brides, but she’d come to understand that it wasn’t just about being innocent when it came to her maidenhead. Men also wanted to be selfish and keep her from knowing bed sport could be enjoyed by women as well. Yet, everyone told her it was a duty.