Highlander Unchained

by Monica McCarty

  He groaned, a deep guttural sound that hinted of danger. He was holding her against him, taking her with his mouth and hands, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more pressure, more of everything. She wanted to feel the weight of him on top of her. She wanted him inside her.

  She wanted everything he had to give.

  Blood pounded in his ears. The urge to explode in her hand was crushing. He’d never been this close to losing control. Never been so damned aroused as when she’d circled him in her hand and milked him so innocently—and so perfectly. He’d fought the urge to come and hadn’t been completely successful. His stomach clenched as he fought the pull, but a few drops escaped nonetheless.

  He wanted to strip her down and caress every inch of her with his mouth and tongue. She was driving him insane with her innocent touch. With her eagerness. With her open desire.

  The heavy haze of lust had crashed over him so completely, it took every ounce of his will to pull back.

  She was offering herself to him, and the hardest thing he’d ever had to do was not take her.

  He hadn’t known until this moment to what lengths he would go to see her bound to him. But his sense of honor, at least as far as she was concerned, went deeper than he’d realized. He might not be able to risk telling her the whole truth about Argyll’s complicity in arranging their marriage, but he would not seduce her and take her virginity. Not until she agreed to marry him. He just prayed that she didn’t wait too long. His body raged with pent-up desire. The fullness in his loins had long passed the point of pain.

  Mindful of her fear in the water, he held her firmly but nonetheless pushed her away. “We have to stop now,” he said through clenched teeth. “I won’t take your innocence. Not without marriage.”

  Her mouth was swollen and red from his kiss, her eyes hazy with passion. “I don’t want to stop.”

  His heart paused for one long beat, not daring to believe what he’d heard. She would marry him. He looked deep into her fathomless blue eyes. “You know what you are saying? You would come to me of your own free will? You will not try to claim later that I seduced you into agreement?”

  His voice was fierce, refusing to allow for the possibility until he heard it from her own lips. But every muscle strained. He wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

  “I understand the consequences.” She took a step toward him and put her hand firmly on his chest. “I want you.”

  Blood surged through his body, and he shook with the last threads of restraint. He clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips pressed against her damp fingers. “There will be no going back. If you give yourself to me, I want all of you.”

  A flash of uncertainty flickered in her gaze, but she nodded.

  Elation spread through him. The significance of this moment would be forever etched on his memory. Of this sophisticated, beautiful woman giving herself to him. A thick ball lodged in his chest. He was overwhelmed by the force of emotion swelling inside him.

  He swept her into his arms and carried her to shore. God, he would make this perfect for her. With what she’d given him, he could give no less.

  Carefully, as if she were the most precious treasure in the world, he laid her down on the plaid.

  He sensed her uncertainty and, now that it was agreed, her rising embarrassment.

  Bending over her, he took her chin in his hand and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “There is no shame in what we will share, Flora.”

  She nodded shyly and circled her hands around his neck, bringing his mouth down to hers.

  He drank her in. Sliding his tongue in her mouth, he circled her slowly, delving into the deepest recesses as his fingers stroked the velvety softness of her neck.

  Her tongue entwined with his, meeting the sensuous thrust with her own and making urgent little sounds that tore to shreds his intention to take it slowly.

  His hands were on her. Cupping the heavy weight of her breasts, squeezing the fullness in his hands, as his tongue thrust against hers in the slow rhythm of lovemaking.

  Her skin was on fire, her nipples tight and pebbled in his palm. He pinched her with his fingers until she arched against him, her need painfully clear.

  Breaking the kiss, he slid his hands under the damp fabric of her shirt and lifted it to expose her breasts. The ivory perfection took his breath away. Her waist was flat and thin, in contrast with the very womanly curves that rose and fell enticingly with the quickening of her breath.

  “God, you’re beautiful.” She shifted her gaze shyly, but he turned her face back to his. “Do not hide from me, lass. I’ve waited for this for too long. This time, I intend to savor every naked inch of you.”

  He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on each delicate pink tip, then helped her shimmy the shirt over her head. And then he worked the trews she wore. Deftly, he untied the wet knot and slid his hands around her hips. She was so slim, he could almost span her with his hands.

  She sucked in her breath as he slowly slid the wet wool down her long legs.

  He wanted nothing more than to take off his own trews and lay naked on top of her. But not yet. He didn’t want to frighten her.

  He drew in his breath, allowing his gaze to roam over her nakedness. The sun drenched over her; she radiated golden warmth. Her hair had begun to dry and glistened like a golden crown around her head. He skimmed his hands over her, memorizing every flawless inch of her.

  She shifted uncomfortably, and his hand turned from reverent to caressing. He stroked her breasts and nuzzled his face between them, inhaling the sweet floral scent of her skin.

  She was so sweetly restless against him. So eager for pleasure that he chuckled, murmuring for patience.

  Finally, he took the ripe tip of her breast in his mouth, sucking hard as she arched her back against him so urgently that he could feel her body shudder in his hands.

  He knew how close she was to falling apart. Never could he have imagined her responsiveness. Her deep sensuality.

  Ignoring his own frantic need, he took it slowly. Drawing every ounce of pleasure from her as he brought her to the very brink just by sucking her breasts.

  What would happen when he touched her?

  He slid his hand down her flat belly and cupped her mound. She let out a cry of such pleasure, his erection jerked hard against her hip. He was so hard, he strained painfully against the damp fabric of his trews.

  Her hips pressed against him, and he fought the fierce surge of heated pressure to his loins. He ached to thrust up high inside her, feeling her damp heat surround him like a tight glove. But damn it, he would make this good for her if it killed him. He slid one long finger deep inside her. She was deliciously wet and responsive. He kissed her again, probing her mouth with his tongue as he probed her core with his finger. She writhed against him, pressing her breasts against his naked chest. Lifting her hips to meet the frantic rhythm.

  God, she was going to come. She was killing him. He slid his mouth over her jaw, down her neck, and down her velvety soft belly until he’d positioned his face between her legs.

  Her skin was flushed and pink with their lovemaking. He would picture her like this always, he thought, feeling a surprisingly sharp tug in his chest. Never had she looked more beautiful. She was his.

  She eyed him warily. Not knowing what he intended, but perhaps guessing. “What—”

  “All of you, Flora,” he reminded her. “I want all of you.” He held her gaze as his tongue flicked out to taste her. It was the most darkly erotic moment of his life. Looking into her eyes, seeing her surprise, tasting her on his tongue, and feeling her body quiver with a surge of damp pleasure.

  Any objections she’d been about to make were lost as he cupped her soft bottom and lifted her fully to his mouth, sliding his tongue deep inside her.

  He heard her moan, felt her shake, and watched as her body gave over to the pleasure he was bringing her. Watched as every last veil of modesty dissolved under the skilled
movements of his mouth and tongue.

  She fought it. Not wanting to succumb so completely. Not wanting to lose control. But he was merciless—teasing her, bringing her to the very peak, and forcing her over. He murmured encouraging words as he laved, nibbled, and sucked. And then he felt it. The contraction. The sweet spasm of her climax. She tensed as the power of her release took her and cried out, pulsing against his hungry mouth.

  It wasn’t enough. He brought her hard to her second orgasm, finding the sweet spot of her pleasure with his lips sucking and entering her with his finger again, until she came again hard on the heels of her first.

  She was soft and hot and finally ready for him.

  His erection throbbed. He couldn’t wait any longer. Quickly, he unfastened his trews and slid them off.

  Flora thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Twice. Never could she have imagined anything so wonderful. Slowly the ebb faded, and she became intensely aware of the naked man beside her.

  Unable to resist, she ventured a curious glance. Her eyes widened as she took him in. He’d removed his trews, and he was even more impressive than she’d imagined.

  Though what she’d imagined she didn’t know, except that it was nothing close to the reality. Of course, she’d known he was large from touching him. But there was something quite different in seeing him for herself. There was something inherently beautiful about the evidence of his desire, but also threatening. Her courage faltered. Knowing what he planned to do, but not exactly how it would work. How could her body accommodate a man of his size? Given the length and girth, it didn’t seem possible.

  “Don’t worry, lass, your body will stretch,” he said, reading her mind with frightening accuracy. “It will hurt for but a moment. Only once.”

  She nodded but still didn’t quite believe him.

  “Touch me, Flora,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. “The way you did before.”

  She lifted her hand between them, grazing her fingers across the hard planes of his stomach before brushing her hand across his tip.

  He jerked in apparent pain. She started to withdraw, but he shook his head. “Don’t. It feels good. Too good.”

  A warm feeling ran through her, and she touched him again, this time taking him fully in her hand. Her fingers were barely able to close around his thickness. He felt amazing, the soft surrounding his rigid length. Like a velvet glove over a pillar of steel.

  He groaned when she touched him. Clenching his jaw and closing his eyes as she watched the sensations coursing through his body.

  She explored him with her fingers, relishing the way every touch seemed to increase his pleasure. She traced a line with her fingertip down the long length of him, rubbed her thumb over the soft head, wondering at the drop of liquid that seeped from him.

  He swore and pulled her hand from him. Dropping his head to kiss her passionately. She felt the heat build, felt the desire build, as he slid his finger inside her again.

  She could see the effort it was taking him to go slowly. If his release was anything like hers, she could only imagine the instincts clamoring in him to find his pleasure. She’d been almost mindless in her need for him. Not caring about anything but the powerful sensations racking her body.

  God, his mouth had been on her most private parts. And it had been amazing.

  He’d placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, the shadow of his broad chest cast over her possessively. The muscles in his shoulders and arms bulged with the effort of restraint. She ran her hands over his back, savoring the heat of his skin and the hardness of his body.

  He positioned himself between her legs and slowly started to enter her. Nudging her wider with each inch that he sank into her. It was the oddest sensation. She felt stretched and full and possessed at the same time.

  His face was tense and strained. He held her gaze as he slid into her inch by wicked inch.

  It started to pinch. Her body tensed. He was wrong. She couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t fit.

  Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

  He sensed her sudden misgivings. “Only a minute, Flora.” He looked into her eyes. “Trust me.”

  Their eyes locked, and something intense passed between them. She nodded, too moved to speak. He held her gaze as he pushed a little deeper.

  Her heart hitched. The poignancy of the moment blocked out the pain for an instant. Finally, with one thrust he sank deep inside her—so deep that it felt as though he’d touched her heart.

  She winced with the knife of pain and resisted the reflexive urge to push against him. He held perfectly still, allowing her body to adjust to the invasion.

  He kissed her again, tenderly and with such raw emotion that the pain was all but forgotten.

  And when he started to move, all she could think of were the exquisite sensations rocking her body.

  He started slowly, pulling in and out of her body in a sensuous rhythm, allowing her to savor every powerful inch of him. Each stroke was like a caress. He made love to her with a heart-wrenching tenderness that was all the more surprising coming from this rough, rugged Highlander. Never could she have imagined this.

  But soon it wasn’t enough. She knew he was holding back, and like him, she wanted everything.

  She kissed him harder, the way he’d taught her to do. She clenched his back as her legs wrapped around his buttocks and she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts.

  Relishing the increased frenzy of his thrusts, knowing that it was working. His hands were rough on her body, the hard calluses providing exquisite sensation as he crushed her breasts in his hands. He was losing control. Mindless with passion. For her.

  It was rough and raw and absolutely perfect. He slammed into her harder and deeper. The intensity shook her to her core. She felt the pressure build inside her, felt the quivering that was even deeper and more powerful than before.

  She started to shatter, breaking apart in thousands of tiny pieces like glass. And then, amazingly, so did he. With one last thrust he sank deep inside her and cried out as the force of his release surged through him and into her.

  He collapsed on top of her. But Flora was so weak, her body so heavy, she barely noticed the added weight.

  He rolled to the side and was so quiet for a moment, she thought he’d fallen asleep.

  She didn’t know what to say. Their bodies, it seemed, had said everything.

  He took a lock of her hair and slid it through his fingertips. Suddenly self-conscious, she felt her cheeks heat. Feeling oddly vulnerable, she didn’t trust herself to look at him. Not sure what it would reveal.

  “We’ll be wed as soon as the banns can be read.”

  Chapter 13

  “What?” Flora asked, shock surely written all over her flushed face.

  Lachlan rose up on his elbow to look at her. A lock of hair slumped across his forehead. Her heart squeezed. He was so incredibly handsome and strong. His rugged face was relaxed for once, although the slightest hint of a frown had appeared between his brows. “Our marriage, of course. It was understood.”

  Recalling his words, she could see how he might have misconstrued her agreement.

  When she didn’t respond, he added, “I suppose there wasn’t much of a proposal.” He held her gaze with a moving intensity, a look that was possessive yet tender. A look that made her breath hitch. He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Flora MacLeod, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She couldn’t prevent the reflexive spike of happiness. For a moment, she was tempted. She’d tried to guard against it, but she could no longer deny her feelings for the gruff Highlander. He was nothing at all like the sort of man she’d imagined herself marrying, yet his appeal was undeniable.

  He seemed in earnest, but all was not as it appeared; of that she was sure. He wanted her, if only she could be sure why. Her mother’s warnings and the situation with Lord Murray had conspired to make her proceed with caution.


  She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “‘Yes’ would seem appropriate.”

  His voice held the slightest hint of an edge. She studied his face intently, wishing she could see inside his head. He seemed to be waiting patiently for her answer, but he wasn’t patient at all. He was tense, held too still, though he wanted her to think otherwise. “Why is marriage so important to you?”

  “I took your virginity. I hardly think you need to ask.”

  But she did. And his response proved achingly disappointing. There was no more talk of caring for her, and certainly not the declaration that perhaps she was secretly hoping for. For a moment, she wished for a little more of the insouciant courtier prone to flatter, rather than the implacable Highland warrior. She didn’t know what she expected, except that it was more.

  A wry smile hid her disappointment. “You don’t need to marry me for that.”

  He bridled, and a fierce expression obliterated the joy of only moments before. “My honor demands otherwise.”

  Honor. The soft blow hit with a forceful impact. “And that is all?” she asked quietly. “That is the only reason you wish to marry me?”

  His eyes shuttered, and he hesitated a moment too long. “I told you before that I cared for you.”

  He swept his finger along her jaw in a soothing caress, but she turned her head away.

  He doesn’t trust me, she realized. And maybe I don’t completely trust him. Not enough to risk her future or, she feared, her heart.

  She felt the bond they’d just shared unraveling. “No,” she said tonelessly. “I won’t marry you.”

  Incredulity warred with the sudden flare of anger that appeared on his face. “But you agreed.”

  She lifted her chin. “I did no such thing. You asked me if I understood the consequences. I did. I do.”