The sight they made now they were both bare entranced Deirdre. Magnus’s skin glistened a golden brown from days spent training shirtless in the lists. She could just glimpse the white skin of his hips as he pressed them into her. His cock felt like an iron rod as it slid between the cheeks of her bottom, and she moaned as his hand crept between her thighs. She parted them when his finger slid across her moist seam. He tapped twice on the hidden nub before sliding one then two and finally three fingers into her. She had always insisted that he not hold back, that she craved the fullness that his cock gave her and no less than three fingers would do. Deirdre lifted her foot to rest on the seat of the chair. This not only gained Magnus easier entry, it presented them both with a clear view of Deirdre’s hidden passage. While one hand worked in and out of her sheath, Magnus’s other hand kneaded her breasts. Focusing on one, he circled the darker skin until her nipple puckered. He tugged on her nipple until it hardened into a dart. Magnus leaned forward as Deirdre’s arm slithered up to coil around his neck. She arched her back thrusting both her top and bottom into his hands.
“I’d nearly forgotten how it feels to have yer hands on and in me. I could watch us like this forever.”
“Aye. There is nay more glorious sight than watching ye find yer release and kenning it was me who brought ye there. I can still see ye when I close ma eyes, and it was that vision that carried me through.”
“Did ye think of me when ye—” Deirdre was not sure how to phrase what she meant, but she desperately wanted to know who he thought of if he thought of anyone.
“Ye mean when I took maself in hand? When I thought of thrusting into ye over and over until I could barely breathe. Aye, I thought of ye. My body craved the sensations that only ye ever gave me. It is nae only ma mind that remembers ye. Ma body would ken yers anywhere, and it ached when I had to work maself to release.”
“I touched maself too,” she whispered and looked down embarrassed.
Magnus raised his hand from her breast to cup her chin. He lifted it and locked eyes with her in the mirror.
“I am glad that ye found pleasure. Tell me,” he finished on a murmur.
“I canna do that,” her cheeks pinkened.
“If ye could do it in the secrecy of yer chamber, then ye can tell me. I dinna want there ever be aught that ye canna tell me, and together, alone, what we do is nae body’s concern but ours. I want to ken if ye thought of me, ached for me, just as I did ye.
“How could ye think I didna? Ye’re the only mon I’ve ever been with.”
“Is that the only reason? Cause ye havenae seen any other mon’s body to fantasize aboot?”
“Och, of course, nae. I dreamed of ye nae because I didna have anyone else to picture. I did it because it was the only way I could still feel close to ye. I did it to remember the way I wanted to give maself to ye, and how ye gave just as much as ye ever got.”
She twisted as best she could and raised her chin, parting her lips. The invitation was clear, and Magnus swooped in to claim it. His fingers worked her again as his long arms could wrap around her and still grasp her breasts. He tugged on her nipple until it became a dart again and then pinched until she mewled in pleasure. Deirdre pulled back first, ending the kiss just as she had started it.
Looking back into the mirror again, she took a deep breath before pressing her hand beneath Magnus’s and sliding two of her own fingers into the slick skin.
“I would start by closing ma eyes and picturing us at the loch that year we gathered at the Campbells. Do ye remember how we used to slip out to the loch well after everyone else had retired? How ye bribed the guardsmen with a cask of yer family’s best whisky? I would think of how it felt to wrap my body around yers as the water lapped at our shoulders and the moon hung over the water. It gave us enough light to see one another but not be seen by someone else. My body would feel weightless in the water and dreaming of it made me feel as though I could float away from it all. Other times, I would remember how we slipped away from the hunt at the Menzies. Do ye remember how ye made a bed of fallen leaves and pine needles before spreading out yer plaid for us? Ye wrapped us in it nae only to keep warm, for I never feared being too cold when I touched ye, but because ye insisted on protecting me in case they caught us.”
“I didna want anyone else to catch sight of what would always only be for ma eyes and ma body,” he whispered hoarsely.
“These memories were from before ye even broke ma maidenhead. Ma greatest memory was when we finally joined after pledging our handfast vows. We found that cave along the beach on MacLeod land. How the water of the Hebrides was freezing, but I have never felt a greater warmth radiate from me than when we wed.”
“We swear by peace and love to stand,” Magnus began.
“Heart to heart and hand to hand” Deirdre followed.
“Mark, o’ Spirit, and hear us now, confirming this our Sacred vow. To thee, I pledge ma troth.” Together, they finished the words they recited the day they handfasted.
“Does this mean we have handfasted again?”
“Mayhap, but I ken ye already gave yer consent thrice. We were married for the second time in that alcove. I will fight that that takes precedence over a betrothal or even a handfast. I consider us legally wed, and I would vera much like to make love to ma wife for the first time on a bed.”
They both could not help chuckling as Magnus scooped Deirdre into his arms and moved to the bed. Laying her down, he fanned out her hair and drew a curly lock across her cheek. He dropped his head to kiss her, but she only pecked his lips.
“I wasna done telling ye aboot how I thought of ye when I was alone in ma chamber,” she smiled, shy once again.
“By all means, do continue,” Magnus urged as he captured one breast in his mouth. He could fit most, suckling until he reached the tip of her nipple and then taking all of it into his mouth again. Deirdre tried to remember what she had been saying.
“I would press ma breast together while my hand pinched ma nipples just as ye are now. My other hand would find the sensitive nub and rub it until the waves of pleasure began in ma belly and flowed through me. I would cry out yer name in silence every time I came.”
Magnus switched to the other side, kneading the damp flesh of the abandoned breast.
“Magnus, dinna make me wait any longer. I ken there are other pleasures before the main course, but holy Saint Michael and all the angels, I will expire if I dinna feel ye inside me right now. I ache so much that it’s near pain. I need ye to fill me.”
Magnus was already pressing against her entrance, and her entreaty had him stretching her opening once again before he thrust. She grabbed his buttocks and pressed as hard as she could to keep him rooted inside her.
“Saint Columbo’s bones, the first moments of feeling ye engulf ma cock is almost as good as finding ma release. And sweet Jesus, being able to finish inside ye is beyond aught I could have ever imagined.”
“There is nay reason that ye should ever pull out again. I dinna want ye to. I want a life and a family with ye.”
“Ye speak to the vera depths of ma soul.” Magnus rocked his hips and swiveled as Deirdre lightened her hold just enough, so she could press her hips upwards. This started the rhythm that carried them closer to completion. Magnus rested on his knees and forearms, staring into her eyes. Deirdre pressed her feet into the mattress as she rose to meet him thrust for thrust.
“Mo eun beag, I am getting close. Och, this feels so good. Ye’re even tighter than I remembered. Ye’re milking me for all I have.”
“I’m there. I can feel it, aye, there. Dinna stop. Ye’re so long and hard, I almost feel like ye’ll split me in half, and dear God, it feels amazing. I want ye. Harder, Magnus. Aye. Just like that. I’m—Magnus!”
“Deirdre!” Magnus felt the jets of his seed spray free from him, and his cock pulsed rapidly as he felt light headed. He had never had a release so powerful, certainly not on his own or any other time with a woman.
He brushed the damp hairs from her forehead as he felt himself sinking to the depth of her hazel eyes. Deirdre tucked a long lock of chocolate colored hair behind. The familiarity and intimacy of the movement were not lost on either of them.
They lay in one another’s arms basking in the afterglow of their love making. Magnus caressed her back as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against his chest. Deirdre could feel her body relaxing toward sleep and was drifting off when a loud rapping came from the door. Her eyes widened as she looked at Magnus. He was already climbing off the bed and dashing to gather his leine which he slid over his head. He did not bother pleating his plaid before he wrapped it around his waist and belted it. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing to her chemise that laid crumpled on the floor next to her now wrinkled gown. She picked up both and hastily pushed her gown into the wardrobe before donning the chemise and a robe she pulled from a hook in the wardrobe.
“Deirdre, open this bloody door right this minute! I will not wait another moment before I have an ax taken to it.”
“Donald, she may already be asleep. She retired quite some time ago,” came a quieter voice that did not last long. More stridently they heard, “Deirdre, you must open this door now. You have much to account for.”
Deirdre’s anxious gaze jumped to Magnus who was scanning the chamber, spotting the pillows that were both indented. He rushed to the bed and grabbed one and flipped it over. He yanked the sheets back in place before walking to the window embrasure. The warmer weather meant the window was already open. He murmured a prayer of thanksgiving that the room did not smell of their lovemaking. He looked over his shoulder at Deirdre and nodded once before he stepped onto the ledge outside her window. With his back pressed hard against the wall, Magnus scooted far enough to be out of sight but still close enough to overhear the conversation between Deirdre and her parents.
Deirdre opened the door, and her father pushed inside. Her mother came to stand next to her but offered no support or warmth.
“He’s here.”
Deirdre’s heart nearly stopped at her father’s pronouncement.
“He’s here at court to deal with his bloody family’s feuds. Damn heathens.” Laird Fraser conveniently forgot that he was a Highlander unless it suited him. “You are not to see him. Not even once, do you understand?”
Deirdre watched as the vein that ran along his left temple thickened and stood out. She had only seen her father this livid a few times, one of which was when he dragged her away from Magnus as they returned from the beach already handfasted. She did not dare play ignorant with her parents.
“Aye, I ken. He rescued me from Lord Archibald.”
“You do not need rescuing from your future husband. And get rid of that disgusting burr in your accent,” Lady Maeve Fraser stated firmly. It was not a voice of reassurance in the least. It was the judgemental tone that Deirdre had heard her entire life.
Deirdre bit her tongue hard. She had not realized how significantly her accent lapsed in the short time she had with Magnus. She was lucky Una had not heard it, but if she was not careful, it would give away the fact they had been together.
“Father, Lord Archibald accosted me in the passageway when I attempted to retire early with a headache. He pulled me into an alcove and tried to take what is not his.”
“It will be his soon enough,” her father barked, but when Deirdre shrank back and even his wife paled, he realized that he had just condoned his daughter being raped.
“I did not mean it that way. He should not be trying to compromise you, but you need to realize that once you marry there is little anyone will do to come to your aid. He will be your husband, and you will be his.”
Deirdre bristled at her father’s complete disregard for her. She noticed that he did not even name her Hay’s wife but rather left her sounding like a possession. She did not find it anywhere near as desirable as when she thought about Magnus and being his anything.
“We are not married yet, and until that happens, I will not have my name besmirched among the other ladies in waiting by Lord Archibald’s improprieties.”
Deirdre knew by staking her reputation, one linked to her parents’, she could gain traction.
“Donald, she is right. She cannot be seen as unvirtuous, though she may be, in the eyes of the court. We must tread carefully. She is a favorite of the queen’s and even the king. If word gets out she is being molested, they will side with her. If Campbell and Comyn believe you cannot control a waspish man like Archibald Hay, they will not recommend you for the seat on the Privy Council. I am thinking Archibald is not the best possible alliance if you would like the king to grant you stewardship of the Hay land nearest ours. We might all fair better if we lend our attention to that Keith boy. With the Hay land sandwiched between ours and the Keiths, it would behoove us to build a stronger alliance with them, so we might gain that stewardship and influence the Keiths.”
Deirdre stood in stunned silence. She always knew her mother had a sharp mind because it was she who first insisted that Deirdre learn to read and write. Deirdre never realized, though, that her mother was so ambitious. As she watched her father mull over her mother’s idea, she wondered if it was not Lady Maeve who was the great engineer of her parents’ rising status.
“The Keith boy may do the trick though Hay already paid half of her bride price,” Donald spoke as though Deirdre was not even present. She felt a wave of disgust roll over her when she remembered that Aiden Keith was barely more than a boy of twelve. Her parents would marry her to a child!
“Tell him it is the gift of his silence that the betrothal fell through. Negotiate with Hay until he comes to his own conclusion that an unchaste bride will not do.”
Regret washed over Deirdre as though she stood in the ocean. She wished she had never once admitted to a single member of her family she and Magnus had not only handfasted but consummated their relationship. Her mother never got past it and took every opportunity to remind her. Her father resolved himself and continued to show his ongoing affection for her, yet ever since the opportunity to marry her to Archibald Hay developed, Donald treated her as little more than an expensive mare to trade and put out for Hay to stud. Listening to her parents argue over her future made her anger simmer. She walked to the window for fresh air and sucked in a sharp breath when she saw a bare foot out the corner of her eye. She looked up without moving her head much and found Magnus standing on the narrow ledge. She met his eyes and while her fear for him shone through, rage radiated from his.
“Come away from that window. You need no one seeing you gawking like a washerwoman gossiping to her neighbor.”
“Yes, Mother,” she backed away. She had to try at least once to defend herself. “Father, you cannot mean to marry me to a child. What will people say? It’s unseemly that a woman of my age marries a lad who is still a page. Why I’m closer in age to being his mother than his wife.”
“That is only because you whored yourself out to that Sinclair lad.” Maeve bit back.
“Maeve,” Donald warned. His wife knew she could only press so hard before Donald would defend Deirdre rather than support her. Especially after his earlier ignoble comment.
Deirdre once again watched the interplay between her parents and saw that her father would lean towards her if she could antagonize her mother just enough.
“You are correct that I am no longer a virgin,” her mind flashed to what she and Magnus had already done twice. “Aiden Keith is but a boy. What will you do if his parents insist on an examination? Lord Archibald is aware and thought it a boon to not have to bed a virgin. The Keiths may not feel the same. Father, I don’t believe Mother has thought of the fact it may take several years before Aiden Keith could ever become my husband in a true sense. We could annul the marriage without consummation. Mother may think me a whore, but it will not matter if the Keith lad cannot do his duty.” Deirdre stressed the word that seemed to trigger her father the most, but before she could say more,
her mother already had a response.
“We could not hope for better than to have you married to the child long enough to gain the Hay land and bend him to our will. He may be a page here but already a laird of his clan. We set aside the marriage once we accomplish that and we can seek another, better match.”
“No, Maeve. There is too much risk in losing the Hay land. The clan needs that land, and we need to claim the influence by forcing Hay to cave to us, even if we are paying him to take Deirdre off our hands.” Her father was becoming impatient with her, her mother, and the situation. His frustration with the slow progress to his coveted stewardship bubbled to the surface.
Deirdre drew back as though her father slapped her. She had never heard him refer to her in such a distant and cruel way as he had today. Her father’s disregard built a brick wall inside Deirdre no one could tear down. At that moment, she no longer considered herself a Fraser. She was truly a Sinclair now, and she would allow nothing to stand in the way of that.
As though he could read her mind, her father circled back to their original intention for haranguing her.
“Dinna think I forgot that I came to tell ye to stay away from that Sinclair bastard. I amnae having a repeat of last time. Ye come within a hairsbreadth of him, and I’ll lock ye in yer chamber just as I did before. Dinna think for a moment I am kidding. I’ll kill him and have ye shipped off to a convent if need be. Ye willna disgrace us or jeopardize this betrothal.” Donald was so irate at this point he had not noticed that he slipped back into his own burr.
At his wife’s distasteful look, he pulled on the front of his doublet. They picked up their conversation between themselves and continued their machinations. Her parents were still talking, ignoring her, as they walked to the door. They passed through, and her father slammed it shut. The final reminder of his control over her.
She ran to the window, but Magnus was already gone. She wondered just how much he heard.
His Highland Pledge (The Clan Sinclair Book 4) Page 5