Conall closed his eyes for a moment. “Tess, if I hadn’t stopped—if I touch you again, I will no be able to stop, and you’ll accuse me of using today’s happiness to....”
He didn’t finish. Tess considered this. She’d braved plenty already, and now caught herself before she said something remarkably stupid, giving him leave to—
But... “Weren’t you happy today?” Her voice was small.
Conall lifted his extraordinary blue eyes to her. She returned his stare and begged for the truth with her eyes.
CHAPTER 24
“Weren’t you happy today?” she’d asked.
Conall was amazed and fairly flooded with a need to touch her.
“Aye.” He rose and returned to her, absently tossing his sword and belt onto the end of the bed, while he held her eyes. His intent couldn’t be more clear, yet she only breathed in and out, deeply and slowly, otherwise still. His last two steps to her were rather hurried, and while the thorny reminder that he shouldn’t be doing exactly this only days before he might well ride to his death ruefully coursed through his mind, Conall could not restrain himself from pulling her hungrily into his arms.
She lifted her face, fully expecting his kiss, which captivated him. He placed his mouth over her soft lips, felt another quick intake of breath from her, and wrapped his arms completely around her so that the entire front of her was pressed provocatively against him. He loved the way she kissed, neither too sloppy nor too noisy, and certainly enjoyed the urgency he felt in her, matching his kiss, seeking more. He felt her lift her hands and twine them into his hair while her tongue, as he’d taught her, turned around his own. There was so much more he wanted to show her.
Conall shifted them while they kissed and walked her backwards until the bed was directly behind her. He lowered her, reaching one hand down while holding her with the other, and brought them both upon the mattress. He held himself up on one arm so she wouldn’t bear all his weight. He left her lips and trailed kisses down her neck and to her ear. She smelled of lavender, her skin warm under the attentions of his mouth. One hand fussed with the corded belt at her waist, leaving it strewn about the bed when it was untied. His hand skimmed over the soft wool of her gown, defining her stomach and ribs and her breasts with his touch. A small sigh escaped her, and he brought his lips back to hers. He took her mouth with greater need, cupping his hand fully over her breast, pressing himself against her. But it wasn’t enough.
His hand left her breast and began to bunch up both her kirtle and her surcote until many folds were in his hand at her waist. He raised the entire length of the fabrics over her head, carelessly tossing them aside when all her hair was free, leaving her adorned now only in her sleeveless chemise. Impressions of blush-tinted skin and wonderfully rounded breasts and an intoxicating curve of hip teased him before he joined their lips again, his hand finding her bare arms, the skin here just as heated and soft as parts he’d already touched and tasted. He touched her breasts again, torture he thought, so close to naked. Her nipple was already peaked, which made him pause to use his thumb and forefinger to provoke it to stay risen for him. She whimpered at this and Conall answered with a groan, knowing immense power and incredible weakness at the same time.
He was hard, had been since almost the moment he’d touched her, but when her small hands moved away from his hair and neck, over his shoulders, and down his arms, he shuddered at what those caresses did to him. When she grabbed for his tunic, as he had hers just seconds before, and began to lift it upward, he grew even harder.
He abandoned her lips only so long as it took to remove his shirt. He hadn’t intended to be rough with her but found himself tugging almost desperately at her chemise, trying to free her breasts, so that the thing just tore under his insistence. He didn’t care, and she didn’t seem to either, so he came on top of her, pressing their naked skin together, and felt a furious heat inside him burn much hotter when his hard chest met with her heavily rounded breasts.
“God, lass,” he breathed, nearly undone. He suckled her lower lip and moved to kiss her cheek. He tasted a saltiness and drew back, breathing heavy, looking intently upon her. Her eyes had been shut tight but opened now as he stilled.
“Why do you cry?”
She shook her head, another tear escaped and slid down into the hair at her ear. “I don’t know.” Her eyes closed again, and her head moved faintly, side to side. “Because I don’t want you to stop.”
“You and I are enemies no more, Tess,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“No, we are not. I guess these are happy tears.”
He was still, but only until her small hands pulled him back to her. He gave her another scorching kiss, sliding his hand over her belly, around her hip, and across her bottom, pulling her against his erection, rubbing himself on her. Her tongue stopped playing with his, just for a second, while she gasped, and then she set her hips in motion against him and kissed him again with a need that was equal to his own.
Soon, he pushed her again onto her back and his mouth replaced his fingers at her breast, arcing his tongue across the bud, then moving on to the next, drawing her nipple fully into his mouth, using his teeth and his tongue so that soon she began to writhe under him. He pushed her chemise down more, away from her hips, down her thighs. He lifted his head and sat back on his knees, pulling the garment down over her feet. Her skin pinkened under his gaze. He touched the fingers of his left hand to her ankle and traced a pattern up her leg, over shin and knee and thigh, his eyes hungrily following. Whisper soft, he skimmed those fingers over the triangle between her legs and up across the flat of her stomach, back to her breasts, just gliding across, aware that gooseflesh followed in the wake of his touch.
He lifted his head and met her darkened eyes, noted her shortness of breath, and whispered huskily, “You are perfection,” before he took her lips again. He worked the laces of his breeches, the only remaining barrier, fumbling a bit in his eagerness, and then more so when the ties refused to adhere to his wishes. Finally, they were pushed down and off his legs and he laid at her side, touching so many parts of her.
“Oh,” was all she said, other words escaping her presently. And then, “Oh,” given now lower, deeper, as his fingers moved beyond the curls between her legs to stroke her. Her legs fell open to him, and his fingers moved further, to the very center of her. Tess writhed against his hand, her eyes closed to what he hoped was the same blissful torment he now felt. She whimpered softly and arched her back as Conall slid one finger inside her, his own growl deep and satisfying at finding her so deliciously wet for him. His finger moved in and out of her, which opened her eyes, showing him both her innocence and her hunger. His mouth reached for and took her nipple again and he felt her reacting shudder against him.
He could make her come right now, he figured, but knew that more than anything, he wanted her to come with him deep inside her, to tighten and throb around him. He shifted, sliding his finger out of her, and positioned himself between her open legs. Her hands found his shoulders, his lips found hers, his erection pressed against her heat.
He lifted himself only fractionally; he needed to go slow, needed her to stop moving against him like that. “It will hurt, lass,” he said, so much regret in his voice as he pressed the tip of his cock just to where she was open and wet for him.
“You won’t hurt me,” she said, her voice husky and seductive, nearly finishing him. She tilted her hips against him. He shifted forward, embedding himself. And he knew he had to force it but couldn’t bear the thought of the pain it would bring. But he did it anyway, thrusting within deeply and quickly. She cried out and he told her he was sorry, and he forced himself to not move though it nearly killed him. And then Tess began moving her hips against him and he groaned, a deep rumble surfacing before he moved with her.
He thrust deep, being fully surrounded by her wet folds and then withdrew, over and over again, faster and faster. Tess tilted her head back upon the pillow, arching
her back. And he knew exactly when she came for the way she brought her eyes to his, her mouth open and panting, her gaze telling him she hadn’t any idea it would feel like this. Conall felt his own orgasm crashing over him with such force, he felt near broken for it and could scarce move in and out now nor catch breath enough to even moan aloud.
Still and silent, though yet connected, they lay entwined like that for several minutes until finally, Conall could lift his head. He braced his forearms on either side of her, felt her small hands slip around, under his arms and across his back. He touched his lips to hers, just a drained and weakened kiss, all he could manage at the moment.
He lifted his eyes to her, found hers bright and not unhappy upon him. They were heavy lidded and filled with wonder. She lifted her head off the bed and kissed him back while her hands clung to him.
The last thing he wanted to do now was leave her body, though he feared his arms could hold him no more. He slipped out of her and rolled to her side, taking her with him.
“Mm,” she purred and placed her head on his chest. Conall slid his arm under her, drawing her nearer. He felt her hand and her long thin fingers gliding experimentally over his chest.
Conall stared at the ceiling, slicing through the emotions overwhelming him just now.
TESS FELT HIS HEARTBEAT against her ear, nestled into his chest. She liked the feel of their skin touching like this. She liked everything. Everything they’d just done, everything she’d just felt.
She thought they might have dozed for a while. When she heard him speak, and felt the words come from his chest, she felt as if they’d woken her.
“Truth, lass, I’d no wanted to do this before I left,” Conall told her, his hand rubbing lightly along her arm while her hair tickled his nose.
She didn’t lift her head, just considered his words. “But you did want to do this?”
“Aye, but only from the day I first met you.”
A lazy but happy smile touched her lips. “Why not before you leave?”
A long silence. She felt his deep breath under her cheek.
“Might be, I dinna return.”
“You must, though.” She didn’t even want to think about that possibility.
“Aye, but it dinna work like that, lass.”
She felt tears gather but staunchly refuse to let them fall. So, she changed the subject, “Is it always like that?”
“Jesu, I hope so,” Conall said with a laugh. “’Tis different each time, no just quicker or slower, or this way or that, but,” he paused, maybe to search for words, “the intensity, the precise way it feels... it’s hard to explain.”
She turned her face on his chest, caught his eye. She wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted him to want this, too. “I feel like now that I know, I’m always going to... want this with you.”
Conall lowered his eyes to catch her gaze. His was very intense. He shifted, turning a bit onto his side, bringing their faces close. “The same thing I’ve wanted with you for so long—this—” he kissed her lips, “I will want again.” He kissed her again, sliding his tongue over hers. “I will want it soon, and then tomorrow. And after that,” he said into her mouth and kissed her yet more. He turned her onto her back again, his hand finding her breast. “And long after that.”
TESS AND SERENA, ANGUS and Bethany, and scores of others stood in the yard, under the light fog and mist of the cool morning, ready to bid farewell to the majority of the MacGregor, MacDonnell and Kincaid armies. The sky, the air, the yard, everything was gray. Tess held Bethany’s hand as the child stood beside her in her little gray hooded cloak. Beside her, Angus and Serena wore matching stoic faces, staring straight ahead, while the armies gathered just outside the gate, awaiting their lairds.
She’d so wanted not to cry. But that was going to be hard to do. He wasn’t even standing before her yet and she felt her lip quivering.
And then they came from the keep, Conall and John and Gregor and a half dozen more men, their expressions grim, their strides purposeful. They were a sight to behold, these magnificent soldiers, dressed in full battle gear—chain mail, breastplates, tabards, and gauntlets—no sign of fear, motivated by grit and valor and justice.
Tess met Conall’s dark gaze immediately, noted the furrowed brow and drawn mouth, and felt her heart flip. He came to her first, removing one glove to place his palm on her cheek. His eyes were fierce, but she saw a promise in them. She tried to be brave, tried to smile and nod for him. Fingers reached around her neck, drew her near. He pressed his lips to her forehead. And she cried now, her hands clinging to the leather of his breastplate. She closed her eyes, committing this to memory, the feel of him holding her. Too soon, he released her.
Around them, others said their goodbyes as well. Serena hugged Gregor tightly and Angus shook his hand. “You come back, lad,” Angus insisted, to which the usually easy-going Gregor nodded curtly, his expression solemn. “Aye, Angus.”
Then John stood before Serena, giving her a fatherly embrace while Gregor stepped before Tess. “I’ll get him back to you, lass.”
She couldn’t speak but thanked him with her eyes and hugged him tightly. When he released her, she managed to say, “And you and John, too. I’ll not be happy with anything less.” He nodded.
Conall took up Angus’s hand, shaking it firmly. “Be well, Angus.”
“Aye, laird,” Angus said with a slow nod, and offered the lone moment of levity. “I’d say I’d keep my eye on the lass for you, but then....”
Conall and several others chuckled, and Conall squeezed the old man’s thin shoulder.
Then John stood in front of Tess. “You take care of the bairn now, aye lass?”
“You know I will,” Tess promised him. “I plan to have her welcoming you home with her own words, John.”
The robust old man’s eyes watered as he enveloped Tess in a great bear hug.
The longest goodbyes were from John and Conall to Bethany. They each went onto their haunches to be at eye level with her, speaking in low voices, assuring her they’d see her soon, and that she was to mind Serena and Tess. John vowed to teach her to ride upon his return. Bethany stared at them, clearly not understanding the gravity of their leaving, but she returned their hugs and watched them curiously as they stood, her finger in her mouth.
Conall came one more time to Tess, kissing her fiercely upon her lips, not caring who witnessed this, or what they might think. She felt his arms slide around her and pull her close and tight.
“You’ll be here when I return?” He wanted to know
She nodded without hesitation. “I promise.”
And then he was gone, following John and Gregor and the others to climb swiftly upon their steeds and trot out of the yard, not one of them turning their heads, not even for one last glance.
It was several minutes before any in the yard moved. But the mist had turned to a light rain and soon the riders were only specks in the distance. Tess scooped up Bethany in her arms and Serena slid her hand into the crook of Angus’s elbow and they made their way back into the keep.
THEY QUICKLY GREW ACCUSTOMED to having fewer people about the castle. The evening meal might only see a dozen people on any given day. And while it made for so much less work, there hung about the keep an air of sadness. Serena and Tess did their best to soldier on. They scheduled much time together, and with Angus and Bethany too, sewing and spinning and even subjecting the keep to a thorough cleaning. As summer was almost fully upon them, they were thankful to be able to spend so much time out of doors, in the orchards or the village or down near the loch, where Angus sat contentedly fishing, while the ladies lounged nearby with small needlework. And always, though Tess thought it was needed less and less, two MacGregor soldiers were never farther away than a dozen feet or so, at Conall’s insistence, she was sure.
Ranulph had kept his word and had appeared at the keep only a few days after Conall and the armies had left. He was nervous, Tess could see, when she encountered him i
n the hall. She tried to put him at ease.
“Good day, Ranulph,” she greeted him kindly. “I will fetch Angus for you.” She’d noted that he carried with him tall baskets of uncut leathers and tools for the work. “He likes to sit in the yard on sunny days,” she said, while the man had still not spoken. “Do you mind working out of doors?”
He shook his head.
“Have you eaten yet?”
He nodded.
Nonplussed, and not knowing how else to put him at ease, Tess went in search of Angus. She found him coming up from the storeroom at the back of the kitchens, led by Inesfree’s steward, Leslie MacDonnell.
“Angus, Ranulph is here,” she told him and waited at the end of the corridor.
“Aye, lass,” he answered, using his hand as a guide along the stone of the wall.
“He appears to be still unnerved,” Tess told him. “Mayhap you can set his mind at ease?”
“Aye, lass,” said Angus and continued to walk by her, heading toward the hall.
Tess turned to Leslie. She never spoken a word to this man, but curiosity bade her ask, “Angus was in the storeroom?”
Tess hid her surprise as Leslie MacDonnell all but smiled in response. “He was. Curious about our store for the coming winter.”
“But it’s barely summer.”
Leslie nodded and they moved further down the hall, toward the kitchen. “A verra smart man, that Angus,” Leslie commended. “He made some good points, which the laird and I had discussed before his departure. We’ve a goodly supply now, but if a siege were to be laid upon the castle, we would be in dire need, and quickly.”
“A siege?”
Leslie waved off Tess’s alarm. “Unlikely at best, lass.”
Tess thought on this but knew nothing of supporting a castle with food and necessities for any length of time. It had not ever been a concern that she’d been made aware of, whether in the cloister in England or at Marlefield. “Should we do something to increase our preparation?”
The Touch 0f Her Hand (Highlander Heroes Book 1) Page 23