by Mary McCall
Dishes clattered. Duncan turned and stared into furious violet eyes.
"I'll thrash that boy if he is behind this, Julien.” Toril wiped her hands on a cloth.
"Calm yourself, Toril,” Julien replied. “It could well be another Askell."
"Huh! When do we leave?” she countered, hands firmly fisted and resting on her hips.
"You're not going anywhere,” Julien admonished. “Duncan and I will handle this. Do you want to come, Leonce?"
A slow grin spread across Leonce's face. “I'm thinking I should stay, so I can accompany Toril when she follows you."
Julien glared at his wife. “She'll not disobey—"
The rear door slammed open. Alera rushed inside, panting and gasping. “I need help, Duncan. Some men in strange plaids... there are at least four... maybe five..."
"Which way?” Duncan leapt from his seat and grabbed Logan's spear from over the hearth.
"To the east.” Alera spun about and ran back out.
Duncan exited the hut. A wave flooded over him. He halted, drenched to the skin. He wiped the excess from his face. Alera stood before him, holding a dripping bucket. Pure mischief danced about her lips.
"Ha ha! The mighty Laird Ranald, caught in the trap of a lowly huntress. ‘Tis amazing. The water doused my temper this time without even touching me.” She broke off into a peal of bubbly laughter.
A chorus of guffaws broke out behind him. He growled low in his chest. Alera's eyes grew round but didn't lose their twinkles. She threw down the bucket and backed away, holding her arms protectively before her. “Now, Duncan—"
He grumbled louder and took a step. The lass did the smart thing. She squealed and took off around the cottage.
He caught up to her at the side of the hut and wrapped his arms around her from behind, lifting her from the ground. “So you think it is funny to soak your laird."
"Let me go!” she cried, kicking his shins and giggling.
"I do not think that wise, you wee imp."
She struggled, still laughing. “'Twas a jest, Duncan, and you must admit a good one."
He wrestled her to the ground and flipped her on her back. Straddling her hips, he pinned her arms beside her head. “Now you'll lay still and take your punishment."
Grabbing the drape of his plaid, he wrung water over her. As the cool drops hit her breasts, she gasped and her eyes caught his, the laughter fading. His body kindled to the unspoken desire dilating her pupils and flushing her cheeks.
"Is my punishment over?” she asked in a breathy voice.
"Ah, lass, it hasn't begun. If my woman is set on hunting, then I'll be going with her.” Duncan pulled her up. “Let's get your bow and we shall see who ends up with the prize catch."
Damn it all, where had she run off to? Duncan was enjoying the sensual sway of his wife's hips in front of him, and the next moment she was gone. The little minx had spent a good while explaining that they needed to hunt to get rid of her jitters.
And how did she think to surprise him with a celebration? Didn't she know by now that everything in the clan got reported to him? Hell, he would act surprised for her on his birthday, but the effort might cost him.
He shook his head. He had been right. Her father had her well spoiled. And hell if he wasn't going to keep right on spoiling her, too. If anyone had told him four months ago he would lose his heart to an English lass, he would have killed them. Of course, he still might if someone actually said it out loud.
Right now he needed to find Alera before she got into mischief. He spotted her tracks and left the trail, hiking through the woods. He would blister her ears good for this. She knew he didn't want her out here alone. ‘Twas a matter of safety, not constraint.
Her tracks faded. He sat on his haunches to better view their direction.
A net descended over his head. A weight dropped on top of him, and arms wrapped around him from behind.
The only thing that saved her was her scent. Duncan fisted his hands and tensed every muscle to stop the kill.
A dusky chuckle by his ear sent an erotic flame spiraling through him. “'Twould appear the big Highland barbarian is captive to his captive, and I believe I have the prize catch. What do you say, laird, want to be my love slave?"
Later he would lecture her about the peril in sneaking up on him. First he would play what sounded like a promising game. “I'll be a willing captive."
She released her embrace and pulled the net from him. He glanced up as she sauntered before him and stood hands on hips. Her wicked provocative grin sent the blood pounding through his veins. “Since you agree to play, I order you to strip."
"And then what?"
"Then you will lay on your plaid, and I shall lick you all over like you do me.” Her eyes twinkled with daring, and she gave him a lusty wink.
Duncan removed his plaid, laid the blanket on the ground, and turned
back to her. “If we start the game, we play to the end."
His husky words thrilled through Alera. He stood before her so arrogant. She supposed he had a right to be. Aye, the Almighty did a fine job putting him together all right.
"I want you, Duncan.” She pulled her gown over her head and tossed it aside. His heated gaze sizzled over her flesh like a brand. “I need you."
She walked over to him and placed her hands against his ribs, pleased at the way his muscles flexed from her touch. Standing on her toes, she kissed his chin. Then she pressed her lips against his jaw. Her tongue slipped out and twirled over the spot. “Mmm. Do you taste this spicy all over?"
Duncan groaned and wrapped his arms around her.
She caressed her breasts against his chest and purred as her nipples drew taut with need. “Want to lip wrestle?"
Her fingers glided through his hair. She thrilled at the prospect of controlling this erotic interlude with her giant Highland warlord. Holding his head captive with the silken strands in her fists, she assaulted his lips with hers. Her tongue slid out and flicked across his lower lip.
Duncan growled in his chest and wrapped her hair around one fist. Then he grasped the back of her head and plundered her mouth.
Alera tried to turn her head and reclaim control. His other hand drifted down and caressed the crevice between her lower cheeks and brought her roughly against his hard arousal. That easily, he had won, yet she didn't feel the loser. Moaning in surrender, she melted against him, giving him complete mastery over her.
Growling his approval, Duncan relaxed the kiss, savoring her delicious fruity flavor. He reclined on the plaid and brought Alera down on top on him. Her thighs clamped against his side and her moist heat pressed against his belly. His lust flamed at the proof of her desire. He massaged her bottom, reveling at the feel of her softness yielding to him.
She whimpered and tried to pull him over but couldn't fight his strength or weight. She tried moving her hips. His hands stilled her. A frustrated moan escaped her, and she jerked her mouth from his.
"Duncan!"
"You lose the lip wrestle, Alera.” His arrogant smile turned into a wicked grin. “What do you forfeit?"
Her impassioned gaze shimmered. “Anything you desire."
Primal need surged through him. “I rather like the notion of you licking me all over."
Her eyes widened with excitement. “You mean it? You will let me?"
"For as long as I can bear it."
A frown tugged her forehead. She sat up and gripped his wrists at her sides. “You cannot touch me while I do this, Duncan. I ache for you now. If you touch me, I'll not enjoy tasting you for wanting you inside me."
He reluctantly removed his hands from her bottom and linked his fingers behind his head. “Enjoy your feast."
She grinned. “You are so big. I am not sure where to start."
"How about the part of me that is hardest.” He bobbed his brows a few times.
Impish twinkles danced in her eyes. “'Tis an excellent choice. I will start with your head."
; "Vixen.” Duncan sucked in his breath as she leaned over him. His every fiber grew tense with heightened awareness of her feminine desire. Long silkened tresses grazed along his chest and arms in a cool caress. Her delicate fingers slid through his hair, massaging his scalp. She caressed her cheek against his hair and took a deep breath, inhaling his male scent. Shivers fired through him when her tongue swirled in his ear canal.
She rose up slightly and slid her fingers through his hair on either side of his face, letting the long strands fan out around his head. “The first time I saw you, I wanted to feel your hair to see if it was as hot as the flames that seemed to flash through it.” She kissed his hair at the top of his head, and a throaty chuckle fell from her lips. “I was sure you must be a giant kelpie, for only such a hellish demon could have burning hair that did not turn to ash."
"Are you going to talk or feast?"
"Your eyes captured my attention next.” She feathered her lips over his right eye, then his left. “Fair scorched my skin and warmed my blood with their heat as they roamed over my body. Made me feel naked."
"You were naked."
"Not all the way. I thought your forehead proud.” She rained kisses over his forehead and down his nose, sucking gently on the notch above the crook. “I remember feeling disappointed, because ‘twas not me who broke this."
Duncan grunted. “You're supposed to say arousing and lover-like things when you do this."
She nipped the tip of his nose and moved her mouth to his cheek, swirling her tongue in the hollow above his jaw. His heart drummed as sensual need consumed him. Her soft cheek rubbed against his stubble. “I noticed the chiseled angles of your face and decided you must be a fierce and unmerciful warrior. Then I noticed the tiny crinkles by your eyes and at the corners of your mouth.” She kissed the wrinkles. “And I decided you were blessed with a measure of mirth. ‘Twas not until I got to your chin that I knew you were stubborn."
She nipped his chin then suckled the spot.
He clenched his jaw and rasped huskily, “You were too terrified to think of anything but me ravishing you, and you skipped my mouth."
"I did not worry about you ravishing me until you touched my breast.” A naughty smile curved her lush lips. “And ‘twas a matter of self-control to move to your chin. If I taste your mouth, I will not last to your...toes. Just looking at your lips makes me damp and I am practically drenched now.” She ran her tongue over his lower lip and pressed her wet heat against his waist.
His fingers unlaced and he fisted his hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to push her onto her back and ram into her. How long did she think he could put up with this torture, anyway?
"The muscles in your neck stood out like thick ropes. I marveled at your strength for so brawn a warrior I'd never seen.” She sucked along the column of his throat. Moving her hands to his shoulders, she kneaded his sinewy flesh. “Your massive shoulders terrified me. I remembered how your muscles rippled and strained as you fought the boar, and I knew you could break me in twain without much effort."
She kissed and licked her way over to his right shoulder. “Do you know you taste as spicy and wild as you smell?"
Her lips and tongue traveled the length of his arm, stopping to suckle the pulse points at his inner elbow and wrist along the way. He was near to bursting with need. But he would control his lust, damn it. He wanted to watch when she took him into her mouth for the first time.
She opened his fist and measured her hand against his palm. “The first time your fingers touched my flesh, they were hot as a magic torch. I felt branded. Then flames burst in my stomach. ‘Twas so strange I feared I might be dying."
She chuckled and sucked his index finger into her mouth. Duncan watched her lips close around his finger and groaned. He was a warrior. He would last until she finished. Aye, he could do it. How the hell could he last when he couldn't even control his own ragged breaths?
After she finished feasting on his hand, she made her way back up his arm. Intent upon giving his other arm equal measure, she moved over him. Her nipples grazed his hairy chest. The peaks grew taut. She moaned deep in her throat and gulped in a labored breath, clutching his upper arms.
"Duncan, what do you think of frequent feedings?” she asked in a strained throaty plea.
"How frequent?” he managed to grit out, thanking his Maker. No way would he last through his other arm.
"'Twill depend on how long it takes me to finish you in one day. I am rather desperate to have you inside me. I can start with your other arm next time. Should take about five...maybe six times to get to your...toes."
"And do you promise to get to my toes before the end of the day?"
"Aye.” She cocked her head and favored him with a sultry grin. “No matter how many times it takes."
A slow smile spread across his face. “Help yourself."
"What?” She looked stunned.
He grinned and clasped his hands behind his head. “Take me."
"I thought ‘twas your job."
"You're the one on top."
Alera looked over her shoulder at his erect thick shaft. She paled and returned her gaze to his. “How?"
"Position yourself above me and sit down.” And he couldn't wait to see her pleasure when she took him inside.
Her jaw went slack then she got her voice back. “You cannot be serious. ‘Twould splice me."
"'Twill fill you full and you will enjoy the ride. Do you need me to help?” He made the question a challenge.
"I will let you know.” Alera straddled his hips until the tip of his hot flesh nestled at her feminine passage.
"Look into my eyes, Alera,” he ordered. “I want to see your pleasure when you take me inside."
She raised passion-glazed eyes to his and slowly descended the length of his shaft. The lower she went, the wider her eyes grew until she braced her thighs against his hips and halted.
"Are you getting,” she swallowed, “bigger?"
Duncan chuckled. “I just fill you better like this. Come down the rest of the way."
Her expression grew dubious. “Mayhap we should do it the other way. If you fill me anymore, I may gag."
"Now is not the time for jesting, wife."
"I am not jesting. I—"
Duncan grasped her waist and pulled her down while thrusting upward. Alera gasped and tensed, bracing her hands against his chest. She closed her eyes, and a long moan blossomed from her lips.
He relished her tight heat gripping him. “Ah, lass, you're so tight and hot. ‘Tis bliss."
"Bliss? Are you serious? I think you have pierced my heart a mortal wound."
Nudging up her chin, he cupped her face. “Oh God, Alera. I did not mean to hurt you."
She opened eyes shimmering with love and humor. “Or maybe ‘twas a wee Greek cherub named Cupid whose aim proved true. Am I supposed to be able to move or are we stuck this way forever?"
"Wench, you nearly unmanned me."
Her gaze swept his body in a salacious caress from his head to where they were joined. Then she cast him a sultry grin. “Somehow I doubt that is possible."
Duncan grabbed her hips and raised her bottom. “Damn it all! We're not stuck. You had me hoping. The thought of your woman's grip on me forever made eternity enticing."
Alera slowly slid down and released a satisfied sigh. “Then we will
have to savor the moment."
He lifted her again and helped her establish a steady rhythm. Erotic torment enveloped him with each move of her body. She raised up and arched, slinging her hair behind her shoulders and trilling in her throat. He grunted his approval and massaged her breasts, seeking to give her as much pleasure as she gave him.
She whimpered and increased her pace. Scorching trails raced from her to blaze through him. He caressed a hand down her svelte belly, and his fingers dipped into her sensitive folds to stroke the center of her desire. She tensed then arched her back, bucking against him as pleasure sizzled t
hrough her.
He grasped her hips and surged into her, grinding against her sensitive flesh until her feminine muscles convulsed around him. She screamed his name in a rapturous chant. He thrust into her again, inciting his own orgasm, and somehow managed to catch her before she fell from her faint.
Duncan lowered her limp body onto his chest and brushed his lips over her damp forehead. Tiny sizzles still convulsed in her flesh around his shaft.
A surge of joy rushed through him as he recalled her words. She had finally said she loved him when she wasn't asleep.
He smiled and tenderly caressed her cheek. “Alera love, time to wake up."
"Mmm.” Alera snuggled against his warmth. “Not yet, Henry. I'm dreaming about my Duncan."
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “You can have the real one if you open your eyes."
Her lashes slowly raised and she gradually focused on him. Then her lips curved into an enchanting smile. She stretched against him like a well-sated cat.
"Good morning,” she purred.
"'Tis almost the nooning."
Her eyes widened. She pushed up then looked down. “We are still attached."
He grinned and grasped her hips. Then he lifted her from him.
"Ahh,” she complained. “I rather enjoyed having you in there."
"I promise not to leave you empty for too long.” He sat up and kissed her mouth. “Did you mean it?"
"Mean what?” she asked lazily.
"You said Cupid's aim proved true."
Alera looked into his eyes, glowing with tenderness and couldn't help but share her heart song. She held the sides of his face and kissed his mouth. “Aye, Laird Duncan Ranald, I love you."
Duncan pulled her lips back to his and gave her a hot passionate kiss.
Then he leaned his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes. “You're mine, Alera."
She stiffened. Then she punched his shoulder and scrambled off of him. “Is that all you can say?"
"Alera, what's wrong?” he asked, sitting up.
"If you have to ask, then ‘tis nothing you can fix.” She leaned down to grab her gown and pulled it over her head. Her gaze fell on his boots. “Well, damn it all. You had your boots on. I should have escaped when I had the chance and not taken care of your people. I may just decide to get Henry and leave now."