Captured by a Laird

by Loretta Laird

  “You have no choice,” Fogert snapped. “Neither do you,” he added turning to Archon. “If you wish your special cook to join us here, you will do as I ask.”

  Lena’s eyes flashed with hate as she looked at the smug face of Fogert. His greed knew no bounds as he prepared to sacrifice his only son to a life of misery just to acquire more land.

  “I will have my wishes granted with regards to Rwenor,” she snapped, pulling herself up in a vain attempt to exert her authority. “We wish to remain independent. My clan will not surrender to you.”

  “I rather think they will, my dear, when they see I have you as part of my clan, by marriage.”

  Lena sank back onto her seat. Her eyes fell downcast as she realised that he held the upper hand. Despite managing to flee Haigh and Harris, Lena had been trapped by her own weak body and a scheming laird. She thought of all the people that depended on her; each face parading through her mind, staring at her with trust and utter devotion. Of course they would bow to Fogert. If she was wed to his heir they would believe her to have made the right choice for Rwenor. For the third time in her life, Lena’s thoughts turned to escape.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lena found that sleep did not come easily to her that night. Her dreams and waking were fraught with pain and guilt at what her foolishness had unleashed for her clan. Under the protection of Fogert, Rwenor may be safe from the raiding parties, but at what cost to the liberty of her people?

  After eventually falling into a fitful slumber, it was not long before dawn broke through Lena’s respite. Its unwelcome glare penetrated the thin skin that separated her from the grim reality that day could bring. Groaning, Lena sleepily forced her heavy eyelids to open, but the bright glare forced her to shut them again.

  “Does the sight of me offend you so much?” said a deep voice laced with emotion.

  Lena’s eyes shot open once again. Blinking against the light, she made out a large form standing in front of the window.

  “Stref?” she asked, sitting up.

  “Who else would dare enter your chamber?” the voice rumbled. “Or were you expecting your betrothed? Just how many men are you planning to marry before you are through?”

  “None, if I had my way,” Lena spat, already riled by the man that had the power to send her senses into turmoil.

  The very sight of him, arrogantly standing framed by her window as if he had the right to be in her personal space infuriated her, yet the familiar trail of desire had already begun its telltale journey through her body. She was furious that he thought he could stroll into her chamber and make demands on her. If she wished to marry Archon, she did not need the permission of Stref Harris, and she planned to tell him that in no uncertain terms.

  Stref had not moved. It was as if he were rooted to the spot. Lena glanced down at herself and realised the cause of Stref’s penetrating stare. Her flimsy nightwear left little to the imagination, including a fine view of her rounded stomach. She instinctively tried to cover herself with her hands as the words of anger she had prepared stuck in her throat. A dark blush stained her cheeks and her gaze lowered to rest on the bed. The restlessness of her night had resulted in her bed coverings being trussed up around her legs. Her efforts to pull then up were having the opposite effect. As if snapped from his trance, Stref took two steps across the room and plucked a skin covering that lay discarded on the floor at the end of the bed.

  “Here,” he said his voice gruff and low.

  Lena took the proffered item and wrapped herself in it, shivering as the soft fur touched her skin. The proximity of Stref was wreaking havoc within her body and it was as if his hands had caressed her exposed flesh. Lena let out a sigh as she recalled the intimate touch of the man she had been running from.

  Stref’s expression darkened at the sound. His response was to clench his jaw and look intently at her as if drinking in each detail.

  “Was it so awful between us that you ran to Fogert for protection?” Stref asked, his voice catching as he spoke.

  “W–what are you doing here?” she asked, returning his question with one of her own. “If Fogert catches you, he will kill you. He is not a very nice man.”

  “I am not a very nice man when someone takes what is mine,” Stref growled. He paced towards her with a predatory look, his eyes never leaving hers as he grew closer. “You are mine, Lena, and what grows inside you is mine also. Fogert and his bastard son will not get their hands on my heir.”

  By now, Stref was so close to Lena that she could feel his hot breath on her face. His scent was so familiar and Lena longed to reach out and pull him into her embrace. She gazed at his full mouth and recalled how it had claimed hers in passion. She lifted her eyes to meet his. Her tongue poked out in an attempt to lick the dryness from her lips, a habit his presence seemed to ignite.

  Stref groaned at the gesture then lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was hard and demanding. It took her breath away. Lena moved her hands and sank them into Stref’s thick hair. It had grown longer and curled at the back of his head in soft waves. Lena pulled Stref’s head towards her, demanding a deeper kiss. His weight fell onto the bed as he sat beside her on the mattress. Lena’s body was coming alive, and she yearned to feel the sensation that had been lost to her these past six moons.

  Lena was the first to add her tongue into the kiss. She delicately licked the lips that seemed to punish hers with their sweetness and found they opened invitingly. Her tongue explored the contours of his mouth with passion. As if sensing her willing response, Stref’s kiss became softer and more intense. His own tongue parried with hers; then moved past to fill her own mouth. Its rough texture and intense pressure made Lena arch forward, desperate to feel the hard contours of Stref’s form against her.

  He gripped the flimsy material of Lena’s nightgown. His large hands spanned the shape of her back, holding her tight. Lena used the pressure to manoeuvre herself onto his lap and pushed her enlarged breasts against him, purring as his hard lines moulded to her soft curves.

  “What about the baby?” he said, breathing hard as he pulled himself apart from her. “Will it be harmed?” His hand was already cupping her breast as he spoke, his fingers teasing her nipples into hard peaks.

  “No,” she gasped. “No.” She bucked against him, her hormones demanding satisfaction as she ground herself onto the hard bulge between his legs.

  He wants me as much as I want him. Lena felt the pent up desire in Stref. She knew he held back, trying not to alarm her.

  The thought made her dizzy with emotion. Tears pricked her eyes as her body strained against the flimsy gown. With a flick of her arms, Lena pulled the gown over her head and sent it sailing to the ground. Stref closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “Lena, I don’t think I can wait, this time,” he croaked, his eyes remaining closed as he spoke as if ashamed of his own need of her.

  “Look at me,” Lena coaxed, giddy with the power she had over this big man. Her breasts, heavy with the growth of the child within her, bounced before his face as he opened his eyes to behold her naked form.

  “Lena,” he grunted. “You are so beautiful.”

  Lena swayed on his lap, rubbing herself against him as her breasts swung from side to side. Stref captured her waist and held her fast. His lips locked onto her right breast and he sucked upon her. The touch of his mouth on her made Lena’s body jolt. The force of her arousal was beyond anything she had felt before. She threw her head back and thrust her body against him, simulating the act that she craved.

  The delights continued as Stref feasted upon each of her breasts, cupping the other with his giant hands. Lena reached down to free his hard member from beneath his plaid. It pulsed ready for her wet core to wrap around it. Lena obliged by lifting herself up then lowering herself down upon the massive shaft.

  Stref filled her completely. She gasped as her weight finally settled back on his lap. The sensation of him deep inside her caused Lena to shudder then cry out as w
aves of pleasure pulsed through her body. Stref maintained the sinfully delightful assault on her breasts as she cried out his name in full climax.

  * * * *

  Stref savoured the delicious sweetness of the rosy nipple that filled his mouth. The increased swell of Lena’s breasts had been a surprise for Stref. Her rounded curves had filled him with a primal desire to possess her. Stref knew that his child grew inside her, but nothing had prepared him for the fierce passion that her pregnant body ignited in him. Her passion had matched his own and her instant climax as his shaft had entered her was causing the familiar tightening of the sac that hung between his legs. He knew that his seed was preparing to force its way out into the moist core of the woman that mounted him—his woman and the woman that nurtured his heir.

  Stref spanned Lena’s thickening waist with his hands. He lifted her slowly from him, relishing the feel of her as he withdrew. He lay her on the bed, making sure her head was placed on the full pillows. Now he was free of her, his only thought was to plunge back inside. Being deep within her was the place he yearned to be, and he cursed himself for leaving it so long before he had sought her out. His pride had almost cost him the one woman that could make him feel complete.

  Stref hovered above her, bracing his hand at either side of her head. Lena parted her legs and lifted her hips to meet him, eager to receive him back into her warmth. Unable to exercise any more restraint, Stref buried himself deeply. He filled her quickly, pushing himself hard into her. Stref bucked, his own hips feeling the inner muscles of her womanhood clutching him close. He moaned as he pulled out then pushed in again hard and fast. Again and again he banged himself against her, listening as she urged him on harder and faster. Her legs wrapped tightly around his hips as his last thrust released the seed that raced along his length and out into her body. As he spilled inside her, her body racked with spasms and her cries filled the chamber. The force of her climax once again matched his own and milked every drop of life-giving seed from his shaft.

  Sated and content, Stref rolled off of Lena and pulled her into his arms. Her cheeks were wet as he rained kisses on her smiling mouth.

  “I came to rescue you,” he explained with a sheepish grin. “But I think we may have alerted Fogert’s guard to my presence.”

  The returning look that Lena gave him made Stref ache with love. He knew as soon as he had set eyes upon the sleeping woman that he loved her. Her beauty aside, he loved her spirit and her passion and knew he had a mate he could share his life with. His mission was now to escape from Fogert without creating another enemy and convince Lena that her future lay with him. A small smile played on his full lips as he thought of the fun he would have persuading her of his plan.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A loud knock on the door and the scrape of a key in the lock alerted the lovers to the approach of Fogert. Lena tried to leap from the bed, scrabbling around for her gown, but a vice-like grip on her arm halted her actions.

  “Stay where you are,” Stref ordered.

  “He’ll kill you!” Lena protested.

  “Your confidence in my abilities never fails to offend me,” Stref drawled, pulling her into the muscled length of his torso.

  Drawing the covers over her dignity, Lena tried to mask her face into a neutral expression as Fogert entered the room, closely followed by several burly guards, each with their weapons drawn. They stopped short as they sighted the couple lounging in the bed, obviously in post-coital euphoria.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Fogert demanded.

  “Fogert, I was just paying my wife a visit. I thank you for caring for her in her recent ill health. Tiny and the other men from Rwenor were most grateful for the way you took charge of the situation.”

  Lena looked at Fogert as Stref spoke. She noticed how his face reddened and a pulse twitched at the side of his temple.

  “Your wife?” he spluttered. “You and she never…well, you never…did you?”

  “As you can see, we are wed in every way that matters, and now that I have seen that my wife is fit to travel we will return to Rwenor to await the birth of our child.”

  “How do you know it is your child?” Fogert spat, a look of spite causing his face to twist into a grotesque expression. “From what I heard she has been the whore of every laird in the Highlands.”

  Stref moved so fast that Lena was only aware of a blur of colour. His plaid swung as he reached Fogert and twisted the weapon from his grasp. The guards could do nothing but watch as their laird was turned around and the blade placed against his neck.

  “I think my wife is owed an apology.”

  Fogert paled as he mumbled a string of excuses and a request that Lena forgive him for his behaviour. Lena nodded as she watched Stref lower the blade.

  “Now, my wife and I require some privacy. It has been a long time since I saw her, you understand,” Stref leered with a slow wink at Lena. “We will be departing shortly. Please pass on my thanks to your own lovely wife, if she is not too busy with the servants.”

  Lena’s cheeks flushed with the familiar crimson that Stref Harris seemed to evoke in her. She averted her eyes as the men filed from her room, leaving her alone with Stref again. This time tension filled the air. So much was unsaid between them, so much needed to be resolved. Lena opened her mouth to speak as Stref pulled his plaid and let it drop to the floor. Her mouth remained open but the only sound that came out was a strangled cry.

  “Nothing like an altercation to put some life back into the loins,” he said, his desire evidently returning with gusto.

  Lena lowered her eyes shyly.

  “Now you are a timid maiden?” he laughed. “I think we are beyond that now, lass. Come here.”

  Lena rose and allowed the covers to fall. She walked gracefully across the room to where Stref stood watching her. His eyes lowered to her rounded abdomen.

  “May I?’ he asked, now his turn to be timid.

  Lena’s heart was lost at his shy request. She nodded, then took hold of his hand and placed it on her tight skin. “Sometimes I can feel it moving here,” she said.

  Stref’s face lit up as Lena felt a fluttering inside her. “It is your child,” she said quietly.

  “You had no need to speak those words,” Stref replied. “I know the truth.”

  This time when their lips met, tenderness had replaced the frenzied passion. Their tongues danced together with a slow rhythmic pace as their hands traced the contours of each other’s bodies. Lena’s touch moved over every defined muscle of Stref’s upper body. She circled his dark nipples and flicked her fingers over them. Stref traced a pattern over Lena’s raised stomach before cupping her rear and pulling her closer. Lena moved into him willingly. She craved the hardness of his strong lines and to feel the strength of his protection.

  “Ah, my love, your skin is so soft against me,” Stref cooed. “I could stroke its supple beauty all day.”

  Lena trembled at the softly spoken words. Stref had called her “his love!” Her heart jumped at the realisation that this giant man was hers for the taking. His words made her bold.

  “Since when did I become your love?” she teased as she traced her hands down to the hard rod that lay between them. It twitched at her touch, and Stref moaned as she tentatively explored its impressive girth.

  “Stop talking,” he growled.

  Lena stilled her hand. “When?” she persisted.

  “When I came into that room and saw you looking flushed like you’d just been with a man.” He moved his hand over hers to encourage her to continue. Her hand closed around the warm shaft, and her finger flicked lightly over the globe of moisture that had settled on its tip. Using a strong and steady pace, Lena pumped Stref’s manhood.

  “What about you?” he gasped.

  “I don’t recall confessing my love,” she gently mocked. “But since you ask, your first words sent ripples through me like nothing I had felt before. I liked the way you stood up to me,” she admitted quietly.
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  Stref froze; then with a low roar, he threw his head back and swore. His voice was heavy with desire and Lena felt empowered to continue her delicious assault. She had always known she had power, but this kind of effect upon a man felt intoxicating. Lena dropped to her knees and looked up through her thick lashes at the surprise that crossed Stref’s handsome face. Her tongue circled the shaft that seemed to move towards her like a fixated snake. Lena opened her mouth and took in the length before her. Her throat baulked at the sheer size that had entered her, but Stref’s cries of delight urged her onwards. Simulating the act that Lena craved, she mated her mouth with Stref’s rigid manhood. His hand gripped her hair and pulled her closer; it was as if he wanted to sink his whole self deep within her.

  Lena pulled back and looked again at the warrior who stood so vulnerably in front of her.

  “Take me,” she begged as his eyes darkened until they were like black flints.

  Lena lay herself down on the floor and parted her legs invitingly. Stref’s string of expletives left her in no doubt that his control lay almost at breaking point.

  He lowered himself on top of her and filled her as his weight bore down on her. Lena gasped at the suddenness of the sensation that overtook her. He angled his body so that he thrust upwards, his groin stimulating her tender nub as he drove deeper and harder. Lena gasped as, once again, her body surrendered to his and her orgasm ripped through her with ferocious intensity.

  Still Stref rutted. He filled her again and again, his eyes dancing with lustful desire as she gasped his name over and over. Eventually, just as Lena felt she could take no more, Stref’s massive form convulsed. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as his passion soared, and then was spent. Again, a foul word escaped his lips. This time it was a long drawn out sound that smacked of utter contentment.