The Black Wolf's Captive (The Highland Wolf Series Book 1)

by Tessa Murran

  Ailsa gasped and looked down at the grass, plucking it with trembling fingers. Was he going to reach for her now and take what was his? Would she have the strength to stop him if he did?

  ‘Ailsa,’ he said gently, ‘I promised you that I would never harm you and I meant it so stop looking so fearful. I won’t touch you, on that, you have my word.’

  Some of her tension eased and her shoulders sagged with relief or was it disappointment?

  ‘Now tell me true Ailsa, was there never a suitor put before you that you liked?’ Duncan’s question was uncharacteristically hesitant.

  ‘Certainly not! Oh, my parents thought them fine prospects but a bigger bunch of halfwits you would be hard pressed to find anywhere.’

  He looked quizzically up at her. ‘How so?’

  ‘Most were callow youths, titled and grand of course, but so wet behind the ears they could barely sit a horse. One had barely any teeth left in his head and he was only twenty years old! Another was so pompous and stuffed full of his own importance I could barely endure beyond a moment in his company and he was old enough to be my father! There were fat ones, thin ones, old friends of my father, old enemies of my father! They couldn’t have been richer and they couldn’t have been duller.’

  She was warming to her subject now and seemed to feel the need to unburden herself to him. ‘There were some handsome ones too, of course, my mother is not a woman to give up easily. But they were dreary and they never seemed to listen to anything I had to say, any opinion I had. They just wanted a biddable little wife with lands and money and title and nothing more.’

  ‘And you are so much more than that,’ said Duncan.

  Ailsa fell silent. He must think her foolish and raving. She had resolved to feign obedience and here she was disparaging all men.

  ‘How did you escape the clutches of your many eager suitors? Did your father not try to force your hand in this matter?’

  ‘No, I was always his favourite. I have several sisters who have made advantageous marriages so the matter was not so pressing in my case and I was always able to talk myself out of it. A few suitors I offended irreparably by being a better rider than them, or drinking too much whisky before them, or not laughing at their foolish jests. They would think me too proud or reckless a wife and depart in high dudgeon from Cailleach, so I got rid of a few in that way. Mother was angry but my father thought it amusing and said if they were not man enough to deal with my wildness then they really didn’t deserve me.’

  ‘Quite right.’

  ‘’My father always told me I should have been born a man,’ she said squaring her shoulders and holding her head up proudly.

  ‘Gods no!’ exclaimed Duncan sitting up. ‘What a waste that would be. You are every inch a woman Ailsa and being brave, resourceful and strong doesn’t make you any less of one. You are a rare and wonderful creature with beauty and brains in equal measure. Indeed, I am slightly terrified to be in the presence of such a creature.’

  ‘You mock me.’

  Duncan moved closer, very serious now. ‘I don’t mock lass, really I don’t. I need a woman for a wife, a painted doll won’t do for me. You are achingly beautiful to be sure but that is not what gets between me and my sleep these past weeks. Rest assured I will never resent your courage, your wildness or your intelligence. With me, you can be as you really are.’

  His beautiful brown eyes were warm and seductive as they held hers and for a few moments, they just stared at each other. ‘Ailsa I have a need to kiss you,’ he said, reaching his hand gently into her hair and drawing her in. She could feel his warm breath on her lips. ‘Will you let me?’ he said softly.

  “I...I shouldn’t. I can’t.’

  ‘You should. You can.’

  As she gave in to him, she felt a wildness rush through her blood and a strange freedom of feeling. She struggled to sit passively as he kissed her, so terrified of losing control, of clutching at him and begging him to take her there, out on the hilltop, under the blue sky and sweeping clouds, for all the world to see. In Duncan’s arms, the struggle of the past year fell away. All the fear and worry and grief were, for a delicious moment, forgotten, replaced by the tenderness of his touch and the exhilaration of a man wanting her. Ailsa had begun to need that oblivion, to seek it out even as she condemned her desire as a weakness.

  Eventually, Duncan relinquished his hold on her and smiled broadly. It lit up his face making him seem boyish and almost vulnerable and Ailsa longed to press her lips to his again. But instead, he rose and, taking her hand, pulled her to her feet. At that moment Ailsa saw her situation clearly and brutally. As a reluctant wife she should hate Duncan Campbell but as a woman she wanted him. Her dilemma tore her in two.

  ‘It’s getting late,’ he said. We should return to the castle as it’s not entirely safe here.’

  Silently, as if neither wanted to pierce the fragile truce between them, they mounted their horses and turned back towards the castle and its complications.

  It was late afternoon when they got back to the stables, which were deserted as all the stable hands had gone off for a doze in the sun. Duncan declined to summon them, leading the horses in himself.

  Ailsa watched his strong, capable hands undoing the bridles and saddles and settling the horses in their stalls. He seemed to relax around them as she did and their ride had been such a treat. Confined to the castle for so long what a joy it had been to be outside with the wind in her hair, flying across the moors. She tried to remember that Duncan was to all intents and purposes her jailor but somehow it was hard to think of him that way as they stood there in companionable silence. She marvelled at the size of him, the brisk gentleness with which he tended to the horses, the enormous power he held in check. He made her seem small and weak and yet in some strange way, protected and suddenly she wanted to be in his arms again.

  When he glanced over she leaned languidly back against the stall and smiled, holding his gaze prisoner in hers. His demeanour changed immediately and the hunger in his eyes made her heart leap into her throat. She was playing with fire but all day she had begun to sense the power she might have over Duncan and it was exciting to use it.

  Duncan could not look away from his wife. A fierce sun penetrated the cracks in the stable walls sending shafts of golden light onto her and turning her hair to dark fire. Her face was pink from the exertion of riding and there was a glow of happiness and energy about her which he had last glimpsed when she had danced at Morag’s wedding. Was there softness in her eyes when she looked at him and some kind of delicious challenge? Duncan wanted her naked and soft underneath him, writhing in passion and calling his name. To hell with restraint, he was sure she wanted him too and it was time to do something about it.

  ‘Ailsa, come here,’ he said softly, reaching a hand around her waist and drawing her against him. She did not resist as he took her face in his hands and pressed his mouth to hers. She surrendered completely, falling into his kiss and darting her tongue hesitantly into his mouth, rendering him completely amazed and aroused. He thrust her up against a stall, hard body against her softness, kissing her hungrily and almost desperately, clutching at her in his passion. His breath coming ragged with longing he gasped, ‘I want you Ailsa. I think I’ll die if I can’t have you.’

  ‘Then have me’ she replied and Duncan did not know nor care why she said the words. He couldn’t do what he wanted here, where they might be discovered, and so taking her hand he brought her to the bottom of the ladder leading up into the hayloft. She looked up at him and then up at the steps and to his surprise and delight gathered her skirts and climbed up. He followed barely able to believe his luck and fell upon her in the warm hay.

  There Ailsa let him do what he would, kissing him back and burying her fingers in his thick black hair. He practically tore the clothes from her in his haste to look at her, pulling apart her bodice and bending his head to nuzzle her tender breasts. Pulling her skirts up around her waist he ran his hand slowly up he
r leg to feel the smoothness of her thighs next to the coarseness of her grey wool stockings.

  Wary of what had happened on their wedding night Duncan tried to go slowly so as not to frighten her but Ailsa was showing no hesitation. She ripped his shirt off over his head and dug her nails into his shoulders, gasping as his hands roamed over her bare flesh. He kissed her ripe breasts over and over, sucking and biting gently, trying hard to delay his pleasure in order to ensure hers. The warm smell of her skin, between her breasts and at the nape of her neck, heightened Duncan’s desire to the point of savagery. He had to be inside her now but she pushed back at him.

  ‘Duncan, wait, the hay is scratching my back,’ she laughed.

  ‘We can’t have that.’ In one swift moment, which made Ailsa gasp, he rolled, pulling her on top of him. His swollen manhood was now pressed hard against the most intimate part of her and as he gently stroked her buttocks and pulled her against him, he felt her slide along its length, slick with lust. Duncan sat up pulling her so that her pert breasts were pressed to the black hair of his muscled chest. Even now he was unsure. He thrust his hand into her hair and pulled her face back from his. There was desire there, he was certain of it, but also shame as she tried to pull her bodice together to cover her nakedness.

  ‘Don’t Ailsa, let me see you. It stirs my blood to look upon you.’

  ‘I should not let you, it is not right,’ she gasped as his fingers found the soft mound between her legs.’

  ‘Oh, but it is right. You are my wife and the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. The sight of you makes me want to do such things to you,’ he said, slowly and gently circling his fingers until she pushed herself against them.

  Her surrender was absolute. ‘Oh Duncan,’ she sighed, ‘do what you will with me but please… don’t stop.’

  The way she said his name, her lustful invitation, was irresistible. With a moan of longing, he lifted her slightly and slid into her.

  Ailsa held her breath then moved against him, sliding against his hardness as his hands grasped her hips and he urged her not to stop. ‘Do you like that’ he said breathlessly.

  ‘Yes…yes,’ she gasped.

  ‘Then I won’t stop until you know what it is to please a man and have him please you in return. Gods you are lovely,’ he said, grinding his hips against her.

  She moved tentatively at first still trying to cover her nakedness but Duncan would have none of that and firmly removed her hands from her breasts and from between her legs. ‘There’s no shame in this lass. Let me see you, all of you.’ When she showed herself he swelled and hardened inside her, marvelling at her passionate response to his touch, seeing her self-consciousness ebb away as her desire grew.

  Duncan fell back onto the hay and looked up at her taking her pleasure from him. He had never seen anything so lovely. Her head was thrown back, nails digging hard into the taut muscles of his stomach, strands of thick hair tumbling down over those glorious breasts. He pressed gently against the soft cushion of bright hair between her legs, causing Ailsa to draw her breath in sharply and arch her back. She moaned softly and gasped out his name and he could hold himself no longer and pushed her down onto him as he joined with her.

  When his breathing slowed he pulled her against his belly, kissing her face softly, hands buried in her hair. Still inside her, he rolled her over onto her back and lifted himself up onto his elbows to look at her face. She was smiling, the softness in her eyes still there and intensified by fulfilment. Ailsa MacLeod had wanted him at last and the pleasure had been mutual.

  ‘I didn’t know it could feel like that,’ she said in wonder. ‘I…I thought that for a woman, it was something to be tolerated.’

  ‘Not tolerated, savoured. I told you to trust me, did I not?’ Duncan replied as tender feelings threatening to overwhelm him. He held her, stroking her hair, with his plaid thrown over them, until the day faded to twilight. Then he lay over her and took her again, slowly this time, as she pressed herself against him and clung to him. He revelled in every sweet-smelling part of her and stilled her soft moans with his kisses as she reached the heights of ecstasy once more.

  Much later they dressed and slipped back into the castle. Duncan left Ailsa at the foot of the stairs with a lingering kiss and she was gone. He stood a while looking after her as a warm sense of triumph flooded through his bones, feeling a surge of male pride at having sent a woman from him well bedded but also a sense of peace and fulfilment. He had known that she wanted him just as he had a growing realisation that he needed her to.

  He would not go to her room tonight though he dearly wanted to for even now he still doubted her attraction to him. So far he had bound her to him by force not affection and he did not want it to be that way between them, for him to have her lovely body without ever touching her soul. He would be patient, keep his distance and let her come to him. If she wanted him she would seek him out and if not, then he could at least hang on to some shred of pride. He had decided he wanted her above all else; now she had to decide if she wanted him beyond the protection he offered.

  Duncan was pulled out of his reverie by the noisy arrival of his men back from their latest patrol. Tired and muddied they had little to report and had encountered no incursion into MacLeod lands and Rory seemed disappointed by this turn of events.

  ‘The bastards are laying low for the time being it would seem and if we do encounter them they melt into the mist and rain before we can come to grips with them. But they hurt us all the same Duncan.’

  ‘Aye, the Sinclairs are cunning and cowardly in equal parts and won’t challenge openly but still, they damage us. It is death by a thousand cuts. They must be building up to something though, they won’t have given up their ambitions just yet,’ said Duncan grimly.

  ‘No you’re right. Oh, but I have news from your uncle, we encountered his messenger on our way home. He has a letter for you.’

  ‘Send him to me at once.’ Duncan turned to go.

  ‘Did you spend a good day whilst we were out on a fool’s errand chasing ghosts?’ said Rory.

  ‘Aye, I had a fine day.’

  ‘Did Ailsa like the horse?’

  ‘Aye’, she did,’ replied Duncan casually. ‘You were right, women do like gifts.’ And with that he bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time.

  ‘Wonder what’s put a spring into his step?’ thought Rory as he went to find the messenger.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘We leave soon,’ Duncan said with finality and in a tone that brooked no opposition. The passionate man she had lain with just a few hours ago was gone and a glaring stranger stood in his place. Ailsa’s disappointment with this turned to anger. She had been awake all night unable to sleep for thinking about what had happened in the stable, marvelling at the pleasure Duncan’s hard young body had given hers. She had delighted in the realisation that she could make him do it again wherever and whenever she wanted and now this! To be shaken awake in the half-light of dawn with him barking orders, it really was too much to bear.

  ‘I won’t go.’

  ‘You must.’

  ‘Why must I?’

  ‘Because it is expected and because I command you to.’

  A messenger had come with a summons from Hugh Campbell. He was hosting a gathering of his most loyal supporters and wanted his nephew there to show off his new bride and no doubt the power and wealth Ailsa brought with her.

  ‘So I am to be dragged before my enemies for their entertainment,’ she said in outrage.

  ‘Don’t be foolish Ailsa, of course they are not your enemies. We are all allies now.’

  ‘They will never be my allies and they hate me as I hate them. ‘

  ‘And as you hate me too I suppose.’

  ‘Yes,’ she spat back at him.

  ‘You liked me well enough yesterday,’ he said with a smirk.

  ‘Well I don’t like you now,’ she shouted flinging a jug at him. He ducked and it hit the door with a cras
h.

  ‘Your aim is woeful my love,’ he said laughing, which only inflamed Ailsa’s anger further.

  She hated the thought of all the Campbells craning their necks to gawp at her. She had an intense dislike of Laird Hugh whom she suspected, had engineered her marriage and she was angry at letting her guard down with Duncan and being repaid with this treachery. Maybe she could reason with him.

  ‘Can’t I stay at Cailleach? You know how it will drag my pride in the dirt to be dragged before the Campbells like some kind of trophy.’

  ‘Of course I don’t see you like that and Ailsa you may as well resign yourself to going as I have absolutely no intention of leaving you behind.’

  ‘If you make me go I will never be nice to you again.’

  ‘You forget my sweet, yesterday, in the hay, I was nice to you too,’ he said seductively, looking impossibly pleased with himself.

  ‘Oh, you…you…oh, I cannot find a bad enough word for you.’

  ‘Think on it a while. I am sure something will come to you. Now you can hate me all you like but you’ll come with me woman, even if I have to drag you from this room and tie you to your horse. Get yourself ready as we leave shortly.’

  And with that, he was gone and Ailsa was left to vent her anger, which was mainly directed at herself. Why had she done it, given herself away like that? She’d said the words ‘do as you will with me Duncan’ and it was as if a stranger uttered them, a terrible lust filled stranger to whom loyalty and pride meant nothing. Perhaps it was because, unschooled though she was in the ways of lovemaking, it had begun to dawn on her that Duncan’s desire for her was a weakness which gave her some kind of control over him. She had made a powerful man do exactly as she pleased with merely a look. Ailsa had seen the flash of desire stir in Duncan’s eyes when she tempted him and in a moment of clarity, not fogged by shame or divided loyalties or thoughts of the future, she had suddenly understood the power of being a woman.

  Was it so bad to enjoy a man’s virile young body without a thought for what came after, just to get what you wanted? He was her husband after all and her clan’s safety depended on his good graces. Strange that his touch had carried her away so, that was unexpected. And this time there had been no pain when he entered her, just a sliding wetness and fullness and a desperate urge to push him deeper and deeper inside her body. And afterwards, when Duncan held her tenderly and smiled into her eyes, it softened the rugged lines of his face and rendered him beautiful. Ailsa had felt a tight feeling in her throat when she looked at him which took her to the edge of tears.