Suddenly, Rhona's head lolled back and she gasped. Angus was almost on his feet when her head snapped back and her eyes were vacant.
“For the many roads ye take, the many fights ye make, secrets kept by those in the dark will come to light. Fire calls for blood and blood for rebirth. The key to victory lies in the eyes of the one where the spheres of heaven touched earth.”
Angus was frozen where he sat. Had she just uttered a prophecy? He did not dare move until Rhona’s eyes rolled back and she dropped the stones on her lap. His eyes followed them. What on earth are those stones?
“Where the spheres of heaven touched earth?” he wondered out loud. “Is that a place? I ken the old mages said it was the sea that first touched the earth but the sphere of heaven? What do ye mean by that?”
Rhona sighed and her voice was gravelly, “I cannae tell ye, Laird. I am only the messenger. But I dae ken that ye will win this fight with this witch. It’s already ordained, Me Laird, ye just need to find the path to take ye there.”
At least I have the assurance that I will win this fight.
“Er, thank ye,” Angus said standing up, ready to leave, and taking out a pouch of gold to hand to her. “I was in doubts if I would ever win this fight but ye’ve given me some assurance now.”
“Take care, Laird,” Rhona said kindly. “And I wish ye luck with that new love interest of yers.”
Taken aback by her comment, Angus was about to deny it but realized he could not. Was he in love with Magdalene? Probably not, but he did love her. He ducked his head, “Thank ye for that, too. Good day, Rhona, ye’ve done me a kindness.”
Mounting Titan, he turned back down the path to the bottom of the mountain. The words Rhona has said continued to puzzle him.
He even said them out loud but the meaning still escaped him. Mulling over them for hours on end fixed them into his memory. They kept him semi-distracted and were a mantra when he went to sleep in the next three nights. On the fourth, he came to the sleepy village resting on a nearby River Croe and decided to have a night at an inn. The tiny town was fairly quiet when he rode in.
His senses sharpened as Titan trotted through, and his eyes spotted men lounging on random corners of shadowed buildings in the main street. Instinctively, his hand went to his sword and stayed there until he came by an inn that had the symbol for open swinging on a stake at front.
It did not take him long to get settled and Titan housed within a stable. A warm meal was sent up and a basin for washing before he went into the bed, a lumpy bed but a bed nonetheless. The window was open to allow a cool breeze to flitter in and he drifted off to the same mysterious words the Druid had uttered, repeating themselves in his head.
Dawn came with a peasouper fog and as he saddled up to leave, he was ready to take the last leg home with more enthusiasm than he had in the last week. Three bodies emerged from the mist like spirits. Angus stopped saddling Titan and took a look at them before going back to secure his horse.
“Can I help ye gents?”
“Yer Williamson, Laird of Ratagan, aren’t ye?” One of the men said as a steel rod slipped through his fingers to rest an inch above the ground.
Unmoved by the threat of attack, Angus tightened a girth around Titan. “Aye, I am. Are ye sure about this?”
“Oh,” another grinned, hefting a lance, “We’re sure, now give us all yer valuables, me Laird!”
“‘Tis yer funeral,” Angus said, and with a pivot of his foot, metal clashed against metal as he dodged and parried the blow from the one holding the metal rod. He ducked and fended off the one holding the lance.
Fighting off two attackers at once was nothing strange to Angus but he was frustrated and anxious to get back home, and was in no mood to suffer these fools. The spear came around again, aimed with deadly intent but Angus was faster. He blocked the blow with his sword, grabbed the man’s hand with an iron fist and forced him to drop the lance.
He stomped on a foot and twisted the man’s hand hard enough to hear finger bones snap. The man howled in pain and stumbled away. Facing the first attacker, Angus swiftly parried sloppy swordsmanship and decided enough was enough. He smacked the makeshift sword to the side and was about to deal out an incapacitating blow when a side blow took him by surprise and he stumbled to the side. His sword was thrown from his grip and he grabbed at his head, blinking the spots away.
Through the shifting double vision, he spotted his weapon laying several arm’s lengths away, out of immediate reach. Someone grabbed him from behind and Angus felt rage explode inside him. He could not see straight but he reacted and flung the unseen attacker over his shoulder. The heavy man landed with a hard thump and Angus grabbed the discarded lance.
Aiming almost blindly, Angus stabbed down and the metal went through the man’s shoulder. The man roared and blood spluttered up to Angus’ face. Hopping off, Angus tackled the first attacker down to the ground, using his fists to break whatever his knuckles landed on.
When the body under his stopped moving, he stood and staggered back to rest on the nearest wall. He slid down while breathing hard to calm his still-ringing head. Pressing his palm to his temple, he felt the soft trickle of blood and inching up, felt a cut. Pulling his hand away, he grimaced. With the best of things, this was the smallest injury he had survived in the past years but the worst of it was he was not sure he could ride this way.
What if he got dizzy and blacked out on some lonely road? He still had a way to go. Thank God he did not need to cross a loch. He laid back and rested his head on the wall behind him. He had to get home. It had already been seven days and by his calculation, his birthday was a day after this one. Too much was on the line, so after breathing deeply a little more, he stood and went to the still-saddled horse.
A stable hand stumbled in only to stop and balk at the man laying nearly dead on the ground. Getting into the saddle, Angus told him. “Tell the innkeeper if he had anything to dae with this, I will be comin’ for his head.”
Steering Titan out, he took the road to Clan Williamson, with the fervent hope he would get there in one piece.
Angus woke up to three things—first, there was no pain in his body, thanks to his mother’s concoction; second, his head was clear; and third, a voice was softly singing beside him. He turned to see Magdalene, sitting on a chair with a needle going in and out of a shirt he vaguely recognized as his. His mother had listened then and called her.
He liberally drank the lovely picture she made for him. His eyes ran over the curve of her jaw, to her plump lips, up her nose to the way her dark eyebrows were tenderly knitted in the middle. An ever-stubborn lock of hair fell into her face that she absentmindedly brushed from her eyes. Her head canted to the side, displaying the smooth span of her neck. A neck he sorely wanted to see littered with his love bites.
It had taken a lot from him to leave her pure that night when they had kissed in the garden. The temptation to carry her to his bedchamber and bed her had almost ripped his insides apart but when she spoken about being take for a whore, he had taken her worry to heart. Now that she was there, so close, and his strength was back, he felt he had denied himself enough.
His eyes scanned the room and he saw washbasins, a mortar and pestle for medicinal herbs, a table set with jugs possibly holding water, and a pile of bandages. Had she been the one nursing him all this time? He lifted the covers, shifting his legs from under to out, knowing it would attract her attention. As she went to speak, he shook his head. Going to the door, he closed it tightly and then came back to rinse his mouth.
“Angus?” Magdalene asked quietly, her eyes darting from the door to him. “What are you doing?”
He took her hand and tugged her right into him. “What I should have done the night I left.”
Chapter 19
This kiss was not like the ones she had thought would come from him. Angus had always treated her softly, like a fragile ornament ready to shatter if handled too roughly. This kiss was consuming, demanding,
and purely possessive. Instantly, Magdalene felt as if she had been swept out to sea and had sunk under the tide.
His mouth was devouring her and while trying to keep up with the onslaught, she felt herself being walked backward on unsteady feet. Soon, her back met a wall and Angus’ hands were framing over her hips and sliding down. He dipped to grab her legs and suddenly she was hoisted up closer to his mouth.
Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed her bottom, kneading the round globes there. Her lungs were screaming for air when Angus pulled away but her breath would not return. His mouth sucked kisses down her neck, as he tugged her gown down. Wicked lips met her collarbone, her shoulder and then back to her lips.
Pressed so tightly against him, Magdalene felt the same ache twist her belly and a warmth gather between her thighs. Angus was getting impatient with her gown and nearly ripped the thing apart at its seams while tugging it down to bare her breasts. The cold air tightened her nipples just as Angus closed his mouth around it.
She cried out and clutched at his head, writhing with the assault of pleasure. She heard him chuckle deeply as he flicked his tongue over her bud, then suckled on it like a babe. Memories of the night in the garden merged with this kiss. A moan wrenched itself from between her open lips. Her fingers were buried in his hair as he played her body like a musical instrument. What string would he pluck next?
“A-Angus’,” she said breathily. “What are you doing to me?”
“Teaching ye what true pleasure is,” Angus said as he let her legs fall. Magdalene had never seen that shade in his blue eyes before. They were so much darker and his eyes were heavy-lidded. Angus reached up and began to unbraid her hair, finger-combing the tresses out to fall like a golden curtain around her shoulders. He then tugged her gown to the floor and she stepped out with shaky legs.
Angus rested his palms on her shins and stood, dragging his hands up the length of her body, making fire embed itself inside her with his path. She closed her eyes, unable to look at him while he was looking at her nakedness.
His thumbs rubbed over her tender nipples. “Look at me, sweeting, let me see those beautiful eyes of yers.”
Daring to do so, her hand rose to cup his jaw, prickly with stubble. “I’ve heard of what men and women do and I have seen it with my own eyes but I have heard that it will pain.”
Angus twisted to catch her fingers in his mouth and sucked on them briefly. “Aye, lass, it will pain ye for a moment but ye dinnae have to worry. I vow to ye I will be as slow and gentle as ye want. If ye tell me to stop, I will stop.”
She worried her lip a little, “And what if I don’t?”
“Then,” he said and turned her towards the bed, “Ye’ll ken what the bite of sweet pleasure feels like. I have so many things I want to dae to ye, Magdalene, so many things…things many things yer English sensibilities might ken are depraved.”
She dared ask, “Like what?”
His smile had a hint of a devil in it as he pushed her on the bed. Magdalene's nose flared as she scooted up to position herself in the middle but Angus grabbed from under her thighs, stopping her from moving further. She began to tremble as his callused palms ran over her silky-smooth skin, making a terrible tightness to clamp down inside her stomach.
Angus cocked a knee between her thighs as he leaned down and kissed her again, moving from her lips to her neck to her breasts. His kisses making a line down her body. His lips feathered kisses over her belly, nipping at her button and biting at her hipbones.
Magdalene was feeling a heavy trepidation rest in her chest while she writhed under his touch. Where was he going next? She looked down to meet his eyes as he went further. Surely, surely, he was not going to—!
A strangled gasp left her lips while he kissed her most intimate flesh. Now she knew what he had said about her thinking his action being depraved. This was a sinful pleasure at its finest and soon she was mindless under him. She grabbed at his hair, wanting to pull him off her but somehow pressed him closer. Her belly was rippling and when Angus pulled off, she felt him circle her nub with his tongue before he slid a finger into her.
The penetration felt foreign but when he stroked deep within, she was again writhing. He entered a second and began to thrust inside her, shallow thrusts but the mere touch of him there pleasured her. Then, his thumb found her nub and her back ached with her cry. Clutching at his shoulders she begged him to give her something she did not know but felt was rising deep inside her.
“That’s it me sweet,” Angus said huskily in her ear, “Let me see ye come undone for me.”
When the tide inside her came to its gasping crest, Magdalene fell back on the bed, warm, tingly and drained. Angus was over her again, kissing her mouth and dipping to suck at her nipples.
Slightly coherent, Magdalene realized that Angus was fully bare and she could feel his manhood on her thigh. His tender ministrations sparked an ember of a fire she thought had gone out. With him over her and his mouth trailing kisses on her skin, she felt the soft flutters go stronger. Her body felt good but her mind was spitting a poisonous reprimand.
What am I doing? This is wrong. Only married folk are allowed to do this.
Then, while he was dropping kisses on her body, he was speaking too. “Yer skin is so lovely…so beautiful. I want to mark every inch of ye with kisses, I want ye to be mine, Magdalene.”
Surely, surely, this once I can break the rules? His touch, his kisses…I feel so alive. I might never feel this way again…
Her hand went up to twine in his hair, “I am yours.”
Angus rose and laid fully on her, covering her skin with his body. As his left hand took hold of her right thigh he said in her ear. “This is when it’s going to pain ye, sweet. I will go as slowly as ye want me to.”
Swallowing over her fear, Magdalene nodded. Angus held her eyes as he entered her. As he pushed in, she felt her passage swell almost painfully. As he inched in her eyes clamped shut and her chest began to heave. She felt him press against something deep inside her and—just as she was about to tell him to stop—he broke through the barrier.
Pain radiated from her middle and tears stung at her eyes. Her nails were embedded in his back and shoulder as she battled the pain adjusted to his size. Christ almighty he was thick. A tear slipped out of both eyes and she whimpered. Angus’ lips met them and he drank them in. “Sorry, sweet. I’m sorry.”
“This hurt,” she sobbed.
“I ken,” Angus said as he dropped kisses on the side of her eyes and her cheeks. “It gets better, mo leannan, I promise.”
The term was not one she had heard before and she forced her eyes open, “W-what does that mean?”
“Me lover,” he murmured in her neck while kissing the skin there. “It means, me lover.”
The pain was easing to a dull throb and her hand slipped down his back, noting the small vibrations there. He was holding back from moving his hips but his lips were still kissing her neck and dropping apologies on her trembling skin. She twisted her head to his ear, “This works better if we move, doesn’t it?”
His breath was a laugh, “Aye, it does.”
Her eyes fluttered and her voice was a whisper, “Then move.”
And move he did, slowly, tenderly with careful strokes. The tension began to leave her body and was replaced with soft spikes of pleasure. He began to increase his pace and her eyes squeezed closed.
The coil of pleasure in her body was winding tighter. She tipped her hips up, the motion making him slide deeper into her heat. She gasped; he groaned at the new angle. Her hands grabbed at his back and a moan slipped from her mouth.
“That’s it, mo leannan, let me hear ye,” Angus’ voice had dipped to a husk, as he leaning down and suckled on a nipple. Magdalene moved one hand to tangle into his thick hair, as her discomfort had completely diddled to almost nothing. His thrusts quickened and her groans began to accentuate his movements with her hips lifting naturally, perfectly, to take him even deeper.
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He withdrew and drove deep, driven by a primal need to possess that she could feel as he slammed into her over and again. Magdalene’s lungs had no air as her pants and cries used it all up.
“Dae ye want more, Magdalene?” Angus asked. His skin had become damp and roots of his hair were wet. Magdalene felt she was no better.
“Yes,” she breathed as a foreign feeling birthed in the center of her body, blossomed and moved like fire through her veins, making her skin tingle. “Give me more.”
His mouth found her breasts, his hand dipped to find and circle her bud, while he stroked in and out of her. Shocks of pleasure shot down her legs and up her body as Angus's fingers worked themselves between their bodies, stimulating her until all she could feel was sparks running double over every nerve and double through every limb.
The feeling inside her coalesced and her entire body locked up as she screamed out her pleasure, sinking under the warm wave and fighting the white behind her eyes. Angus was stroking in, prolonging her pleasure but as her body calmed, his went rigid and suddenly his length was gone from her. She felt him press his face into her neck as he shuddered and groaned under his breath.
The Highlander's Fiery Bride: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 16