by Lynsay Sands
Dougall immediately turned his own head to claim her lips as he dropped the bindings. At least Murine thought he must have released the cloth he'd been wrapping around her, because his hands were suddenly up under the gown she held in front of her and covering her breasts with no cloth between her flesh and his.
Murine first sighed into his mouth with relief when he began to kiss her, then followed that up with a moan as he began to pluck at her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers while still cupping the bottoms of her breasts with his palms. The sensation had her pushing in two different directions at once. She was twisting her head farther back so that he could deepen the kiss, while pressing her breasts forward into his caress. It put a bit of a strain on her neck and Murine was at first relieved when Dougall broke their kiss to switch to nibbling and kissing her neck and ear while he eagerly kneaded her breasts. But after a moment, she wanted his kisses again and tugged one arm free of the nightgown to reach back for his head even as she tried to turn enough to reach his lips again. The moment she started to try, Dougall released her and stood up.
For one moment, Murine feared he was going to put an end to things again as he had at the waterfall, but then he settled himself in front of her on the bed and caught her by the arms. He started to pull her forward and back into his embrace, but paused with her halfway there. Following his gaze, she saw that her gown dangled from one arm, leaving her bare to his view. His gaze stayed fixed there briefly, then rose to her face for a moment before slipping back to her breasts. He reminded her of a little boy trying to choose which pastry to pick from a tray. In the end, he was a greedy lad and went for all of it. Cupping both of her breasts, he pressed a kiss to each, then closed his hands over them as he lifted his head to claim her lips again.
Murine pressed forward into his caress and kissed him back eagerly. When his tongue invaded her mouth, she welcomed it and inched forward on her knees, desperate to get closer to him. She was vaguely aware of the linens and furs slipping and then dropping down to pool around her knees, but didn't really register what it meant, even when Dougall suddenly clasped one cheek of her bottom to urge her to rise up on her knees.
The action broke their kiss, but it also allowed him to trail his lips down to the breast he was no longer caressing and claim it. Murine gasped and clutched at his upper arms as he drew the better part of her breast into his mouth, sucking almost violently, before letting it slide out until only the nipple remained. He then set about nipping at it lightly while running his tongue over the tip.
"Oh, Dougall," Murine groaned, and then gasped with surprise when something brushed between her legs. Eyes blinking open, she glanced down, but all she could see was Dougall's mouth ministering to one breast and his hand at the other. She couldn't see his second hand, but was definitely feeling it as it brushed across her core again. Murine instinctively tried to close her legs, but his knees had somehow got between hers and now held them open, and then he caressed her again, more firmly, his fingers gliding across her wet flesh and milking a cry of mingled need and excitement from her.
Dougall released the nipple he'd been teasing and tipped his head up even as the hand that had been at her breast slid around her neck and up behind her head to pull her down for a kiss. Murine responded almost desperately to his kiss, her hips bucking under his touch, and then they both stilled as a crash sounded from above stairs. In the next moment, Dougall was off the bed, barking "Stay here" and rushing up the stairs.
Breathing heavily, Murine stared blankly after him and then slowly eased back to her haunches. It wasn't until she heard Dougall crossing the upper floor that she realized she was sitting there naked. Biting her lip, she quickly snatched up her nightgown that had somehow got pulled from her arm and lay pooled on the bed next to her. She recalled tugging it off her one arm, but had no idea how it had got off the other. Murine didn't ponder the matter, but merely pulled it on over her head, then brushed it down into place and slid to the edge of the bed.
She was debating getting up to follow Dougall and be sure all was well when she heard a crash from above. Swallowing, she shifted nervously and glanced around for a weapon as the sound was followed by a second crash. She'd barely begun to look, though, when footsteps moved back across the creaky upper floorboards. It was a great relief when Dougall appeared at the top of the stairs and started down.
"What was it?" she asked with a frown, noting his irritated expression.
Dougall shook his head as he stepped off the stairs. "One o' me brothers must ha'e left the shutters open above stairs. The wind was blowing them about so I closed them," he explained, and then paused as he saw that she was dressed.
Murine glanced at herself self-consciously, unsure what to do or say. She had only dressed because she'd worried there was someone above stairs. Now that she knew there wasn't, however, she would have liked to continue doing what they'd been doing before interrupted. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to let him know that. Or even if she should. He had told Aulay that they were to be married, but did that mean they could or should do the things they'd been doing? Would he think her a lightskirt if she--
"Ye're probably hungry."
Murine glanced up at his gruff voice to see that he'd turned his back and was moving to the pot simmering over the cooking pit and she sighed, knowing they wouldn't continue with the pleasure he'd been teaching her. Telling herself it was for the best, Murine got cautiously to her feet and when she found them a little less shaky than the first time she'd got up, moved slowly to the table.
Dougall turned from the fire with a trencher of what appeared to be a thick and hearty soup, then paused when he saw her seated at the table. A frown flickered across his face and she thought he would give her hell for getting out of bed, but the next moment the frown was gone and he crossed to set the trencher in front of her, then returned for a second one for himself. He then fetched spoons and two mugs of cider as well before sitting down next to her.
"It smells good," she murmured as she dipped her spoon in the soup. "Did you make it?"
Dougall smiled crookedly and nodded. "The lads hunted and cleaned the meat, but I did the rest."
"The lads?" she asked curiously.
"Geordie, Alick and Conran," he explained. "They came here with us."
Murine nodded, and glanced around, wondering where they were. They couldn't have been upstairs or one of them would have closed the shutters before Dougall could have got up there.
"They rode back to Buchanan fer supplies," Dougall announced now. "And to see if your brother showed up there."
"Oh," Murine murmured and, not even wanting to think of her brother, picked up her drink to take a sip. A heartbeat later she was spitting it back out and coughing up clumps of weed that had lodged in her throat.
"Damn!" Dougall jumped up and rushed around the table, but when Murine saw him raise his hand as if to slap her back, she squealed in alarm through her coughing and held up a hand to stop him. Dougall immediately froze. Fortunately, Murine had coughed up the worst of it by then and her coughing eased. She took a moment to catch her breath and then glanced to him with wide eyes.
"What the devil is in me cider?"
"One o' Rory's tinctures. 'Tis supposed to help build up yer strength," he explained, reaching for his own cider and offering it to her.
Murine took the drink and sipped cautiously, but needn't have bothered. His drink was weed free. It was also much more tasty than her vile drink.
"I guess I overdid the tincture," Dougall muttered and then explained, "I was a bit worried. Ye seemed to be sleeping a lot."
Murine relaxed and offered him a smile. "Thank ye fer seeing to me while I've been recovering."
"It was nothing," Dougall growled and moved back to reclaim his seat.
When he immediately began to eat his soup, Murine turned her attention to eating her own. It really was very good. It seemed Alick was not the only Buchanan man who knew how to cook, but Murine was enjoying it too much and
"Ye don't like it?" he asked with a frown.
"Oh, nay!" she assured him, and then frowned as she realized that could be misconstrued and said, "Aye, I like it very much. 'Tis just that I'm full already." She glanced down at the remainder of her soup and added, "I actually ate to the point o' making meself uncomfortable it tasted so good." She peered at him and said, "Ye're a very good cook. Who taught ye?"
Finished with his own soup, Dougall pulled her half-full trencher before himself and picked up his spoon before answering, "Me parents. Ma and Saidh would often come to the lodge with us when Da brought me and me brothers hunting. We never brought servants though. Ma would cook what we caught and we'd all help with the meal and cleanup. It was family time," he explained with a small smile of remembrance. Scooping up a spoonful of soup, he added, "When she passed, Da took over the cooking and taught Aulay and me some more." He swallowed the spoonful of soup and added, "He said kenning how to cook a hearty meal was often thought a servant's business, but there are few servants traveling with ye in battle and it behooved a man to ken how to sustain himself."
Murine nodded and then smiled slightly and pointed out, "Ye didn't mention yer mother teaching Saidh to cook."
"She tried," Dougall said dryly and then assured her, "Our Saidh is no' verra good at it. She's no' got the patience."
"Ah," Murine said with a chuckle and watched him finish her soup.
Pushing the second trencher away, he hesitated and then stood, saying reluctantly, "I should probably put ye back in bed and let ye rest. Ye're most like tired."
Murine was tired, but noting his reluctance, and recalling his expression when he'd said she'd slept a lot, she shook her head at once. "Nay. I'm fine."
"Really?" Dougall asked with surprise.
"Aye. Besides, I think I must ha'e been abed too long. I'm a tad sore in spots other than me back."
"Oh." Dougall looked as if he weren't sure whether to allow his happiness that she wasn't tired show through, or show concern for her sore spots. Both emotions battled on his face briefly.
Murine saved him from making the decision by asking, "I do no' suppose ye ha'e a chess game here?"
"Aye." Dougall smiled. "Ye play?"
Murine nodded. "Me father and I used to play of a night."
Smiling at this news, Dougall moved to a chest under the stairs and knelt to open it. A moment later he was returning to the table with a chessboard and a bag that it turned out held finely carved chess pieces. Leaving Murine to admire the little carved men, Dougall quickly fetched them both more cider and then returned to help her set up the board. Within moments they were deep in the game.
"Did yer mother play chess?"
Murine glanced up with surprise at that question from Dougall, but then shook her head and turned her gaze back to the board as he made his move. "Nay. She never cared for the game."
"Hmm." Dougall sat back to wait for her to take her turn.
As she moved her rook out, Murine asked. "Did your mother? Play chess, I mean?"
"Aye." Dougall smiled. "We have two boards and used to hold little competitions, four playing, and then two playing the winners and so on."
Murine smiled at the thought, imagining Saidh, Dougall and his brothers all much younger, playing chess with their parents. Frowning, she glanced up and asked, "Saidh has never talked much about yer mother. How old were ye when she died?"
"She only died four or so years ago," he said quietly.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I--"
"Lass," he interrupted gently. "It's been four years. The loss of her still hurts, but she was a good mother and deserves to be remembered and talked about."
"Oh," Murine breathed, thinking that was possibly the wisest, most wonderful thing she'd ever heard. Clearing her throat, she changed the subject somewhat by asking something she'd been curious about since Alick had offered her Rory's tincture and explained that he was the healer in the family. "Did Rory tend yer mother when she fell ill?"
"Nay, Saidh did," Dougall said solemnly, and then grimaced and added, "Not that there was a lot o' time to tend her. And Saidh didn't really ken how to help her. None of us did."
"Not even Rory?"
"Rory?" He looked surprised at the question and then shook his head. "Up until then Rory had no interest in healing. But he was close to our mother, and took her loss hard. Her death is what turned his interests that way." He frowned at the memory. "We sent for all the best-known healers. None of them kenned what to do. In the end we all just stood by and watched her die. All of us feeling helpless and useless." He shifted as if shrugging away the unhappy memory, and then said, "I suspect Rory took up learning about healing so that he need never feel that way again."
"I see," Murine murmured and stifled a yawn behind her hand.
Dougall smiled faintly and added, "Rory's a bit of a man possessed when he's interested in something. He spent the better part of two and a half years traveling all over England and Scotland to learn from the best healers. Now people send for him when there is a tricky case or injury."
Murine smiled faintly at Dougall's pride in his brother and watched him make his next move. Fighting off another yawn that tried to overtake her, she asked, "Did your father fall at the same time?"
"Nay." Dougall's expression closed up, and his words were a little curt when he said, "He died in battle."
"I'm sorry," Murine murmured, making her own move and shifting her bishop. Apparently the father's death was still too raw for him to discuss as he could his mother's.
"'Tis all right," Dougall muttered and huffed out a little sigh before saying, "Our da died in the same battle that scarred Aulay."
"Oh," she said with understanding, and she did understand. Saidh had told her that Aulay was terribly self-conscious about the scar that halved his face. She supposed, that being the case, he would hardly welcome his brothers talking about their father and the battle that had taken his life as well as Aulay's good looks and self-confidence. Dougall verified her thoughts as he took his next move.
"Aulay has struggled with his scar since that battle. He does no' like to talk about it and we all honor his wishes rather than make him . . ."
"Miserable?" she suggested gently when he paused.
"Aye," he admitted. "Talking about it puts him in a foul mood for days, so we all just don't talk about it. Check," he added with a slow smile before adding, "And mate I think."
Murine glanced down to the board with a start, her eyes widening as she saw that it was, indeed, checkmate.
"Ye're a good player," Dougall complimented.
Murine grinned at the claim and shook her head. "Good to beat."
"I had an unfair advantage, ye're tired," he said apologetically. "Ye started yawning halfway in."
She opened her mouth to protest, but had to stop to cover it as another yawn stretched her jaws. Once the yawn had ended, she grimaced and said, "Aye. Fine. I'll sleep. But only fer an hour or so. Then I'll let ye beat me at chess again. Or we could play nine men's morris if ye have the game."
"We do," he assured her, and then teased, "And I'll look forward to trouncing ye at that too."
Murine scowled at him for the comment. She'd half expected him to scoop her up and carry her to the bed when he stood. Since he hadn't, however, and didn't appear to be intending to, she slid her legs over the bench and stood up. She then glanced down with surprise as her bindings unwound and dropped onto her feet.
Dougall cursed softly and then grimaced. "I never finished with yer bindings."
It wasn't really a question, so Murine didn't bother to agree. He'd stopped before doing anything to ensure the end remained in place. In fact, she wasn't sure they'd been at the end of the bandage when he'd dropped it to cover her breasts. That thought had a decidedly warming effect on Murine as she recalled the feel of his hands on her excited flesh.
Dougall glanced to the binding and then the bed, but shook his head as if in answer to a question before announcing, "'Tis best I bind ye here at the table. There is something I need talk to ye about."
Murine's eyebrows rose slightly as she wondered what one had to do with the other. He could talk to her while binding her on the bed too. Or perhaps the bed was too tempting for him to risk it, she thought suddenly. Murine didn't ask if that were the case, however, but glanced down at the gown she wore. He would either have to lift it up, or lower it to her waist to replace the wrapping. And while he'd already seen her breasts and bottom, he hadn't seen her front below the waist and she wasn't ready to bare it to him so cavalierly, so when he bent to pick up the binding, she quickly shrugged her shoulders out of her gown and let it drop to rest at her waist, held there by her hips and one hand.
Dougall straightened and then froze as he saw what she'd done. His eyes widened, and then glazed over slightly as he stared at her naked chest. It was not a dissimilar reaction to the one he'd had the first time he'd seen her breasts, but this time Murine was not in the same state she had been then. This time, she was actually a bit uncomfortable and embarrassed. At least she was until Dougall suddenly dropped to his knees, caught her by the waist and drew her forward so that he could latch on to one of the nipples she'd bared.
Murine bit down on her lower lip and caught at his shoulders as he began to suckle, her body immediately responding to the caress. Both of her nipples were promptly hard pebbles on her chest, she saw as he released the first breast to pay attention to the second one.
It was all a tad abrupt and even overwhelming. He had not primed her with kisses, and Murine found herself longing for those kisses even as she moaned over what he was doing.
When Dougall's hands left her waist to cover both cheeks of her bottom and squeeze eagerly, her gown slipped down to drape over his hands, the front dropping below her belly button. He couldn't have possibly seen that from his position at her breasts, and yet the moment it did, his mouth started a heated trail down her belly and then paused at her hip before he ran his tongue along the line of skin just above the cloth of her gown.
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