Claimed by a Laird

by Glenn, Laura

  Despite having been naked in front of Galen before, she automatically attempted to cover herself with her arms and hands, unsure how much he could see into the water in the dim light. “A knock on the door would have been nice,” she chided as a blush rushed across her cheeks.

  “I do not ask permission to enter my own chamber,” Galen replied, his eyes raking boldly over her.

  The icy tone in his voice coupled with the seductive glint in his stare caught her off guard. She glanced up at him, immediately wishing she hadn’t. His eyes narrowed as he glared down at her and crossed his arms.

  She swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes away from his foreboding expression. “Galen, will you please—”

  “Silence,” he ordered. “I only wish to hear your explanations now.”

  Anna blinked several times in confusion, her brain taking several moments to register the ice-cold anger lacing his soft tone. When it finally did, she was whipped into defensiveness.

  What the hell had gotten into him? Her spine stiffened. “Did you just order me to be silent?”

  “I did.”

  She resisted the urge to stand and shake her finger in his face as she told him to go to hell, since that would mean she’d have to expose more of her naked body than he could already see. Instead, she matched his glare. “I don’t know what your problem is and right now I don’t give a flying rat’s ass. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to dry off and go to sleep.”

  Galen snatched her by the shoulders, hauling her out of the tub. He crushed her against his unyielding chest, eliciting a yelp from her throat. Her heart pounded as he locked her in his arms, preventing her escape. She shivered at the rush of chilly air licking her skin as rapidly cooling droplets of water rolled down her back and legs.

  Her hardened nipples dragged against his shirt as he slowly slid her down his body to the floor, sending erotic tremors directly to her pussy. A strange mixture of anger and arousal swirled through her, muddling her thoughts.

  Anchoring her against him with one arm, he grabbed her chin and tilted her head back. His gray eyes pierced hers as if he were trying to read her thoughts.

  Determined to not allow him to intimidate her, she glared at him through narrowed eyes. “Let me go,” she demanded, punctuating each word to ensure her seriousness would not be lost on him.

  A sudden flash of recognition flickered across Galen’s face. “You are a Campbell. I can see it in your eyes.”

  He spoke in a hoarse whisper, but the pain in his voice roared in her ears. “How…” She rapidly searched for something she had said or done, which had led him to the truth she had so carefully tried to conceal.

  “Geoffrey found your satchel.”

  The fire crackled in the hearth as Galen’s heart thudded against her breast. “Oh,” she murmured as a shudder of regret coursed through her.

  He stared at her for several long, agonizing moments. “Why did you not tell me?”

  The mixture of anguish and tenderness threaded through his voice caused Anna’s heart to contract painfully. “I’m sorry. When I heard you were feuding with the Campbells, I panicked. I didn’t think it would matter.”

  “Did you honestly think you would never be found out?” His voice bolted from his throat like thunder during a sudden summer storm. “God’s blood, woman! Eventually you would have to answer about your family name. And if it were to get back to the Campbells I was keeping a woman of their kin, this would be considered an act of war.”

  “What?” Anna shook her head in disbelief. The man certainly had a flair for the dramatic. “That’s absurd, Galen. No one would go to war over me.”

  “I would.”

  His words fell between them like a lead weight. Her lashes flew up and she stared at him in silence. The fire threw menacing shadows across his face. Was he serious? Strange, frightening emotions stirred in her heart.

  “But…but…” She shook her head as if she could dislodge them. “But you barely know me. And the Campbells don’t even know I exist.”

  “But they could find out about you,” he insisted with an impatient sigh. “The feud with the Gowries began because my great-great uncle took one of their lasses slated to marry an heir to the throne.”

  Anna furrowed her brow in exasperated bewilderment. Is that what all of this hatred was about—some Gowrie hottie sashayed past a MacAirth who then thought it was perfectly cool to take off with a prince’s bride?

  “You people are insane!” She flattened her palms against his chest to push him away.

  He remained immobile.

  “Let go of me!” she demanded, attempting to twist her body away from him and pull her arms free.

  “I am not through with you.” The fingers of his left hand dug into the flesh of her arm. “If you are who you say you are and the Campbell clan does not know of your existence, then why are your eyes that of the Campbell laird?”

  Stunned, she halted her struggles and stared up at him. “I-I-I don’t know. I guess he might be an ancestor of mine or something.”

  The scar on Galen’s cheek twitched and his other hand squeezed her jaw.

  “But that was eight hundred years ago,” she rushed her words, desperate to expel the darkness that had settled in his eyes. “Um, I mean, I won’t be born for nearly eight hundred years.”

  Anna sighed in exasperation over her confusion. She sounded like an idiot.

  Galen paused and the tension left his face. One corner of his mouth turned up in a grin as he released his hold on her jaw.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I still can’t get my head around all of this.”

  “No, Annie, I am sorry.” He trailed his rough fingers across her cheek and down her neck, her skin quivering. “I should never have frightened you like that.”

  He flattened his palms against her back and slid them down to cup her buttocks, gently kneading each fleshy cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned her forehead against his chest, longing to give in to the heady sensations of his touch.

  Her fearful, logical mind warred with her aching, desperate body. Perhaps if she kept him talking, she could pull herself out of the web of lust he wove long enough to regain control of her senses. “What did you mean by saying you’re keeping me?” she tentatively asked, her hands taking on a life of their own as they slid up and down his biceps.

  “Just that, lass.”

  He shifted and his rigid cock pressed insistently against her belly.

  She gulped, not daring to move. “I don’t understand. You can’t just keep me.”

  He placed a soft kiss on top of her head. “I can and I am.”

  His strange, sexist suggestion that she was no different from his horse or dog infuriated her. Determined to set the man straight, she shook her head and pushed on his chest. “No, you can’t. I don’t care what you Medieval barbarians normally do. I am a woman of the twenty-first century and I will not be ‘kept’ as though I’m nothing more than some pet.”

  Galen loosened his grip and allowed her to push him away, his eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. “It is a compliment to be chosen as a laird’s woman.”

  Her breath caught in her chest and she stared wordlessly at him. Was the guy completely demented? Panic welled in her throat and all she could do was shake her head. How did she get herself into this mess? She barely knew the guy and already he was claiming some sort of right to her as his woman? Why did she attract such possessive, arrogant men?

  “You will be my wife,” he stated with authority as he reached for her hand.

  Wife? Where on earth did that psychotic idea come from?

  Anna yanked her hand back, forgetting her nakedness as the Graham Castle tour guide’s speech about Galen marrying an Anna Campbell replayed in her mind. She shook her head in agitation. Regardless of the century, she wasn’t ready for any of this—marriage, babies, a household. She barely knew the guy and, the last time she checked, she was not a good enough judge of a man’s character to make up for tha
t fact.

  The memory of James Gowrie’s smiling face as he leaned down to kiss her after promising to love, honor, cherish and protect her flew through Anna’s mind, quickly followed by the shocking pain of his fist slamming into her face.

  “I am not marrying anyone!” she shouted in near hysteria. “No one, not even you, Galen, Laird of MacAirth, can make me do something I do not want to do!”

  “Come here, Annie,” he commanded, his jaw clenched.

  She shook her head again. It was high time this man learned she was not some submissive thirteenth-century woman, eager to do his bidding because she thought herself to be his inferior.

  Galen grabbed her by the waist and crushed her lips with his. The kiss was savage and intense, sending a shock wave through her. She shuddered, her resolve and anger melting away as the heat of desire flushed through her veins.

  Anna whimpered, suddenly weak and confused. She had to put an end to this before she got hurt. Before she got pregnant. Or worse—before he betrayed her.

  “You are mine, Annie,” he gruffly whispered against her lips.

  Her name had never been uttered in her presence with such raw passion before and it unraveled the last remnants of her will. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pressed her open lips to his and a deep, guttural moan escaped his throat.

  He cupped her buttocks and lifted her feet off the floor, pressing his cock into the softness of her abdomen as he carried her to the bed. He leaned her onto the mattress, allowing her legs to dangle over the side.

  “Mine,” he whispered as he fell upon her and kissed the base of her neck. He dragged his tongue up her neck to her ear. “I am claiming you as my woman.”

  “No,” she breathlessly groaned as he sucked her earlobe between his lips. “You shouldn’t say that.”

  “You are mine.” He traced her jaw with his tongue and kissed her chin as he cupped one of her breasts, his thumb searing a trail across her swollen nipple.

  Heat rippled from her breast to her clit. “I get to decide that, not you,” she protested, grabbing his face and bringing his lips to hers.

  His lips parted and he slanted his face over hers, devouring her mouth. The warmth of his lips was intoxicating and the desire to protest against his one-sided life-altering decision slipped away. She thrust her tongue into his mouth with fevered abandon.

  Desperately needing his warmth against her naked body, she skidded her hands down Galen’s back and seized the hem of his leine, pulling it toward his shoulders.

  He broke the kiss to assist her, yanking the garment over his head and tossing it to the side. He showered kisses along her jaw to her ear and then playfully nibbled her earlobe.

  Her skin tingled beneath his breath on her neck. She dragged her lips across his cheek, relishing in his earthy masculine scent surrounding her. “Galen—”

  “Enough talking, woman,” he grumbled. “You will cease this need to discuss your worries whenever I wish to bed you.”

  Her head wanted to argue with his casual dismissal of her worries, but her heart was quicker on the draw. A small but joyful laugh escaped her throat and she pressed a smile against his cheek. She had done something similar to delay the inevitable when he began making love to her in the tent a few days before.

  Making love. She resisted the urge to scoff at that term. This was, after all, nothing more than sex, right? It was her body, not her heart that betrayed her every time this man touched her.

  Galen stood to remove his breeches and then tossed them aside. His gaze roved over her breasts and down to her hips, sending shivers of lust through her core even as an unwelcome heat of embarrassment over being on full display for him surged through her skin. As if they had a mind of her own, her hands moved to cover her breasts and mons just as she snapped her legs shut.

  He grabbed her forearms and pushed them against the bed as one of his knees separated her thighs. “It is a shame to hide such beauty.”

  “Beauty?” she repeated in wonder, her nipples aching as he dropped his gaze to them. Did he really think she was beautiful?

  He nodded and dragged his hands down her arms to her chest, cupping one full breast in each hand and kneading her flesh. “You must have cast a spell on me, love. You seem to get more beautiful every time I look at you. It doesn’t even matter to me that you are a Campbell. You could be the very daughter of the Campbell of Maree and I would not care.”

  Anna’s heart melted. She slid her palms over his biceps to his massive shoulders and smiled. “Enough talking,” she whispered.

  Vindication filled Galen as the expression in Anna’s eyes moved from clouds of confusion and distrust to the soft glow of arousal. It irked him something fierce how the woman still treated his affections with such suspicion. He had taken her into his home, cared for her while she was ill, drew upon the patience and strength of the saints nightly as he slept beside her during her recovery and offered to take her as his wife despite the fact she bore the name of one of his enemies. Which, of course, she had hidden from him. Had he not proven himself to her?

  She squirmed beneath him and he grinned with satisfaction. His arrogance in finally attaining her surrender fell away as his attention dropped to her breasts, flushed and topped with hard, rosy nipples just beckoning for him to taste. He lowered his face to her chest, inhaling the sweet, floral scent of her moist skin. He dragged his lips across one nipple, eliciting an arousing whimper from her lips. Using his tongue, he lazily outlined it while brushing his thumb back and forth across the other. She arched toward him and he sucked the rosy bud into his mouth. Gently holding the base between his teeth, he flicked his tongue back and forth over her honeyed nipple, slowly at first and then faster.

  Anna groaned and threaded the fingers of one hand through his hair while she traced his shoulder and arm with the fingers of her other hand. The light, butterfly touch sent tremors through his skin and he rubbed his painfully hard cock back and forth against her velvety thigh.

  Releasing the swollen bud from his mouth, he licked and sucked a path toward the other, slurping it in between his lips while his thumb and forefinger gently rolled the first nipple into an even stiffer peak.

  Her lips sprinkled light kisses across his brow and he continued to flick her nipple with his tongue while he explored the soft flesh of her hips. She bucked against him, rubbing her moistening folds against his thigh. The alluring, sweet scent of her arousal tickled his nose and sent a surge of fire through his cock. Dizzy, he pushed her thighs farther apart and dragged his lips from her breast to her neck.

  She whimpered and pressed her soft lips to his shoulder, sliding her palm down his chest and his stomach. His muscles tightened beneath her touch. She meant to stroke him.

  He put his hand on hers to stop her, afraid he couldn’t control himself and would come before he had the chance to claim her. But silken fingers were too inviting. Her tongue flicked his earlobe and then she kissed his jaw, dragging her lips across his scar.

  Ah, to hell with it. Instead of fighting her, he guided her to his rigid, straining shaft. Her delicate fingers wrapped around him and slowly, agonizingly, she stroked him from tip to base. His cock surged and he grunted breathlessly against her throat, nearly forgetting his desire to taste her before ramming into her.

  His blood pounded in his ears. He breathed deeply for several moments, squeezing his eyes shut against the sweet torture of her mere touch. His need to taste her, to give her pleasure before he took his, rushed to the forefront and he unwrapped her hand from his cock.

  “No,” he murmured, grazing his mouth across her sweet, supple lips.

  Confused and trembling with desire, Anna pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth. “Did I do something wrong?”

  His laugh, deep and sensuous, rumbled in his chest. He shook his head and pressed his lips to her neck.

  “Then why—”

  “Because you are not ready.”

  It was her turn to laugh. She caressed his cheek and drew
his hand between her legs. Rocking her hips, she pressed her wet, aching folds against his heated palm. “I am more than ready,” she whispered against his ear, sliding her tongue around the edge. “I want you, Galen.”

  He seized her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. “I want to taste you first.”

  Her neck flushed under his breath and quickly shifted to goose bumps as he lifted off her and slid his lips down between her breasts to her stomach.

  Anna’s breathing turned shallow as he knelt on the floor between her knees. He slipped his firm palms up underneath her buttocks and dragged her to the edge of bed and kissed each thigh.

  “Annie, look at me,” he demanded.

  Her entire body burned as his breath caressed her throbbing slit. She arched her back, barely hearing his command. When she met his gaze, a sharp pulsation surged through her clit as an intense fire gathered behind his eyes. She whimpered, writhing beneath his gaze.

  Without dropping his stare, he slowly traced one finger around her wet opening and then slipped it between her slick folds. Her core contracted around him, shivering. She parted her lips and groaned, opening herself wider for him. He slid a second finger inside and thrust them in and out as he lowered his lips to her clit.

  Her hips involuntarily bucked beneath him as a piercing pleasure radiated outward from his tongue. He withdrew his fingers and grabbed her hips to still them as his tongue encircled and flicked at her clit in a slow, languid rhythm.

  Anna sank into the bed, her hands tensing into fists as waves of ecstasy rippled through her abdomen. The room spun and her breaths came in rough, choppy moans as the fire of his touch dispersed throughout her skin.

  She gasped in surprise and wonder, her thoughts fragmenting as the first throbs pulsated through her, intensifying with every lap of her clit. She thrashed against him, moaning his name. He pushed her hips into the mattress, holding her still. He dipped his tongue into her opening and then raked it across her clit. Blood thudded in her temples and she clawed at the bedcovers, her core clenching hard. A wet, frenzied spasm deep within her abdomen raced through her pussy, radiating down her thighs, and she cried out.