Bought By The Highlander (Scottish Highlander Romance)

by Kaley McCormick

  However, as the night progressed he started to think back to Nessie and what became of her, the child and the old arse of a husband. He looked around for her among the ruins but saw nothing. He wondered if she ran away to the forest, never to return again, finally finding a smidgeon of freedom. If so, good luck to her, was all he could say. The woman was beautiful. Kind. A pure heart just as his late wife had been.

  Then, as he entered the cottage, the same place where he first saved the woman’s life he saw a familiar face.

  “Nessie?” he said with a smile, seeing Nessie waiting for him on the bed. “You came back?”

  “I had to make sure the child would be safe. I gave him my word. I told him to wait for us at the Silver River passed the forest. Survivors are heading over there now. There are greater strengths in numbers, even if they are injured.”

  “Us, you say?”

  “Well yes, I am a widow now, Artair. By choice. So maybe we have something in common for once?”

  “Oh, I see,” he said with a grin. “You fancy me then?”

  “A bit. And I reckon we have only a few more minutes of alone time before departing on the next adventure, Mister Artair. Rebuilding our village. And I know you’re not so rude as to walk away without lending a hand. So then…we best get the second tussle out of the way.”

  Artair knew time was of the essence but another hard and angry warrior fuck before battle was just the highlander way. He took her on the bed, tearing her clothes off again and removing his own. He didn’t start again, so as much as he finished what he started. This time rejuvenated by the death of her abusive husband and happy from the thrill of murdering mortal bastards who did terrible things to innocent people.

  It was all very barbaric and the sex was comparable, with Artair hammering his new lover on the bed, plunging himself so deep they shook the frame and most of the house. His second erection was stronger, beyond mortal, she even thought as she let him lift her legs up and rest them on his shoulders. His cock thunderbolted her pussy at a tighter and more angled direction than before, hitting her right at the most sensitive spongy area inside.

  She felt the pangs of orgasm building again, only this time higher and more full-bodied than before. She groaned loudly as he stuffed his cock deeper inside and pounded her internally. Just as she started to cream his cock with a flood of her intimacy, he felt her pussy walls contracting and tightening. As her pussy writhed in and out, so too did her body quiver in sweaty, uninhibited release.

  “Aaaahhh!” she cried, wetting his cock down while being fucked so hard her torso and head leaned off the bed. “Fuck me like you mean it!”

  He grunted and thrusted with all his might, firing shots of precummy rigid length inside of her. She imploded and convulsed, coming with all that was left in her frail body, and tensing her every muscle in a wet and messy finish. She began slapping his chest and arms in orgasmic frenzy, barely able to survive the biggest quake of her life, until she finally collapsed halfway off the bed.

  But Artair was still rock hard and eager to come again. He scooped her up off the floor as easy as a weapon, and ran her into the wall, his cock still pumping away inside, soaking up her cream. Finally, he unloaded another sperm explosion inside, coming hard and strong, and groaning at the top of his ecstatic voice.

  She waited in panting, wet and dizzy awe. This wasn’t just barbarian sex, this was truly something out of this earth. He shook her entire consciousness with that last ejaculation and perhaps gave something away about himself, far more than he should have.

  He nodded, as admitting with his body that he wasn’t at all what he seemed.

  But we’ll talk about that another day, he thought. For now, the idea of taking things easy, helping people rebuild and protecting mortals was appealing for a change. There would always be reengage highlanders to kill. There would always be murderers to stop and victims to avenge. But sometimes, even a warrior had to take a break and smell the roses of victory.

  THE END

  The Captive Bride

  Chapter One

  Elise fanned herself ineffectively as the carriage bounced her down the road towards the small village. The horses seemed to be finding every dip and rock in the path and she clutched the window opening to prevent herself from landing on the floor.

  The heat and humidity outside were only mildly relieved by the breeze of their movement. The baskets on the floor scratched the tops of her feet as they jostled around in the bumps.

  It was her weekly trip into town for supplies and she both hated and loved the outing. She loved getting out of the estate and watching the landscape roll past her open window; she loved browsing in the shops for food and sewing patterns and whatever else struck her fancy; she loved stopping in the small inn for a lunch before heading back home. She hated coming back home. The freedom she knew in town, limited as it was with her escort, made returning to the estate that much more painful.

  Henry was a cloud that she could never escape. Even as she fingered the silky new dress in the shop, she knew she would catch the angry end of his belt for spending that kind of money. He wanted her to help him entertain at the house but she knew the other wives were gossiping behind her back about the fact that she only had two nice dresses in which to hostess such parties.

  They did have servants for the actual serving, but her place was to giggle at the terrible and tasteless jokes and smile sweetly as drunken Henry stumbled around the dining hall and eventually had his way with her in her bedroom.

  She did appreciate having her own room and spent many a quiet evening by herself, with her needlework or her handful of books.

  The carriage finally arrived in town and her driver/guard helped her down. The cobblestones tugged at the stiff petticoats of her traveling attire and she gathered them delicately in one hand, making sure not to pull them too high for fear of showing her slim ankles to the entire world. The older man who traveled with her followed behind her carrying the baskets that she intended to fill for the week.

  “Shall we stop at the grocer’s first?” she tried to make conversation.

  “Aye, madam, whatever you desire.”

  She sighed heavily, and wished she were allowed to travel with her cook or her maiden. Either of them would have been preferable company, and could be considered her only friends. With either one of the two women, she could have made quite a fun day out of the trip to the markets.

  She swung the door open into the grocer and tried to keep her skirts from bumping anything on the lower shelves. She selected a nice variety of foodstuffs such as fresh tea leaves, a small bag of sugar, and a bag each of flour and rice. In the sundries section she picked up two more sewing needles and three new packets of thread so that she could start her new cross stich piece.

  The market next door was open-air, and offered quite a selection of fresh items from the nearby farms. Henry’s estate included a sizeable chicken coop so she had no need for eggs, and the vegetable garden was plentiful this time of year so she did not browse those areas. She did select some fresh cheese and butter from one of the dairy farmers and the driver paid as she wandered to the next stall: the butcher.

  Fresh meat was an expensive commodity and Henry loved showing off his wealth at his parties, but she had to be careful with that spending as well. Henry was planning a party for the next night, and she had to walk a careful line between frugally spending his hard-earned money and making sure they provided a spread that displayed their wealth and lifestyle.

  After she selected a decent sized ham as well as some smoked bacon, she instructed the driver to purchase two bottles of whiskey. It was unseemly for her to purchase them directly, but her evening would be bitter and painful if she forgot that purchase.

  Before making the long ride back to the estate, the driver and Elise enjoyed a moment of quiet while they lunched. It was a simple lunch of beef stew and homemade brown bread but it tasted good and would tide them both over until dinner.

  Most of the food
they purchased that day would be saved for the party the next night, and she had tried to purchase just a little extra so that they would have enough for the entire week.

  It was a pleasant outing, and while her driver/escort was not big on conversation, Elise was relatively comfortable with him and did trust that if she spent an extra penny on a piece of candy, he would not report it to Henry.

  After lunch, they tucked all the baskets into the carriage and Elise settled down in her seat as the driver closed the door. She leaned back and tried to nap but was not hopeful with the way the carriage bounced around. She must have dozed off because before she knew it, the cook was shaking her knee and trying to get to the baskets that sat under her skirts.

  Chapter Two

  The next day was a whirlwind of preparation for yet another dining hall event. Henry loved to host such parties and show off how much food and drink he could provide. He usually invited the other estate owners in the area, and they brought their wives or mistresses. It was not uncommon for the men to bring these much younger ladies to the events just to show them off. Elise did say a small prayer of thanks that while she may not always enjoy the feasts, she at least was spared the humiliation of being banished for the mistress. She was almost certain that Henry had at least two but she just ignored that fact and was grateful that it was at least two nights per week that she did not have to entertain him in her bedroom.

  The cook bustled around the kitchen like a madwoman as she prepared everything. Henry was off in town to fetch more alcohol for the party, so Elise was free most of the day. She finished the buttered bread and tea that made up her breakfast, and tried to help the cook in the kitchen. She was decently handy with a knife and set about.

  “I just don’t know why we have to waste all this good food on people who can afford their own,” she mentioned to Abigail.

  Abigail nodded, “I know what you mean, madam.”

  Elise smiled back, “Perhaps you should fix two small plates for you and your husband.”

  Abigail was married to the older man who had accompanied Elise to town the previous day.

  “Oh, that would be wonderful, madam, thank you!”

  “Just make sure to fix me one too, for lunch, and hide yours away just in case.”

  Abigail nodded and made small sandwiches for her and Thomas. She wrapped them in a plain cloth with a large red apple, and tucked them away in the pockets of her cloak for later. The two of them would not be having dinner any time soon because they had to help serve at the gathering. But having a nice lunch would help get them through.

  Elise often tried to pass a little extra food their direction. She knew that Henry did not mistreat his servants per se, but he did not pay them much either. And in the grand scheme of things, as long as Henry did not blatantly see the food walk away, he really would not notice the difference.

  “You do take good care of us,” Abigail whispered.

  “I try,” Elise smiled, “but don’t tell anyone.”

  The two young women giggled together as they chopped the carrots and potatoes and onions that would be cooked with the large slices of ham. With everything in the huge pot to cook, they sat down to a cup of tea just as Thomas was entering the back door of the kitchen. He smiled sweetly to his wife and kissed her on the top of her head. The three of them sat quietly while they all sipped their tea and nibbled their sandwiches.

  After the meat and vegetables were finished, it was almost time for people to start arriving. Elise helped Abigail and Thomas lay out the platters on the dining hall table and then went upstairs to get herself ready and presentable.

  Her sweet maiden girl brushed out her long blonde curls and twisted them up into a topknot. Elise’s deep blue eyes sparkled against her pale skin and emerald gown. Henry knocked on the door impatiently, and she rose to greet him. They made their way down the winding stone stairs until they entered the noisy dining hall, arm in arm.

  As was customary, there was additional food and beer and wine on the table as gifts to Henry. The entire group took their seats after Henry had been seated with Elise to his right.

  The platters began swirling around the table as people loaded down their plates with boiled eggs, fresh ham, cooked carrots and potatoes, hot brown bread with fresh butter, several kinds of cheese, chutneys and pickled onions, crisp slices of apples, and salty cured fish. The mugs fairly overflowed with the wine and beer and honeyed water.

  Elise politely took enough to almost fill her plate, making sure to take more of the gifts than of her own food. She had been raised to be a proper estate wife and hostess, and she was well-versed in the etiquette of such gatherings.

  Eventually Abigail and Thomas noticed that the food consumption was dwindling and the alcohol consumption was growing so they started to clear the plates. No one stopped them from removing plates full of leftovers and Elise gave Abigail a small nod of approval if she was interested in helping herself. She knew that her cook would take enough for probably two meals for herself and Thomas, but would not abuse the generosity. Elise and Henry would plan to eat the remaining food over the next few days and Abigail would be able to steal a bite here and there.

  The evening dragged on with the men bragging loudly about their exploits with their swords as they waved their beer mugs in the air, and the women nodded politely as they sipped small glasses of wine. Eventually everyone staggered back to their own homes, and Elise made a hasty retreat to her own bedroom before Henry could get any ideas of twilight entertainment.

  Chapter Three

  Elise woke early the next morning, and since she knew Henry would be sleeping off his party from the night before, she slipped into a casual cotton dress and snuck downstairs to the kitchen.

  After a pleasant cup of tea with Abigail, she packed a ham sandwich into small knapsack and decided to take a walk through the countryside. She had confirmed with Abigail that some of the extra food had made its way to their small home within the estate grounds, and folded a shawl into her bag before heading out for her walk.

  The sun was just beginning to creep into the sky, and it painted away the stars with strokes of pink and orange and yellow. It was already starting to warm up, and it seemed that the day would be a hot one. She berated herself for not bringing any clean water, but hoped to find a stream or pond during her walk.

  While the estate grounds themselves were rimmed with a large stone wall, it was harder to tell property lines once you exited the wall gate. She knew that Henry owned more than their immediate property but she paid no attention to the exact boundaries.

  She walked leisurely along the line of trees, letting the grass tickle the tops of her feet as it bowed in the wind, and listening to the birds as they flitted around in the branches. It was a most pleasant summer morning, despite the impending heat of the day.

  As the sun slowly climbed to the peak of the sky, Elise found herself walking further and further into the trees. They provided much appreciated shade for her pale skin, and kept the worst of the heat at bay. She found a small pond in the middle of the grove, and spread out her shawl on the grass for lunch. She smiled as she pulled out her simple ham sandwich and found the generous chunk of cheese that Abigail had hidden away for her. She slipped her shoes off and wiggled her toes in the cool water as she ate. It was turning out to be a nearly perfect day.

  As she finished her meal, she slipped her shoes back on. She stood slowly, stretching and twisting as she shook out the shawl she had used as a blanket. She folded it back into her travel bag and slung the strap over her shoulder.

  She could hear the soft thunder of distant hoof beats on the hard-packed road but paid them no attention even as they grew closer. She could not tell which road they were on since the large grove of trees was flanked on both sides by roads into the village.

  She made her way through the trees, staying in the shade as long as possible. The horses’ hooves continued to grow louder, but the trees both muffled the sound and obstructed her view. Just as she
decided it was time to step out into the sun, the hoof beats stopped and she found herself almost walking into the flank of the huge black beast.

  “Oh!” she cried, startled at the sudden appearance of the horse and rider.

  The horse stood so tall that all she could see was a shiny black flank and a dark brown knee-high riding boot.

  “Madam?”

  “Yes?” she asked, squinting up into the sun in an effort to see the source of the deep voice.

  “I’m afraid you have startled my horse.” The voice seemed to hide a chuckle, but her heart was still pounding so fast, it was hard to be certain.

  “He did me no favors either, sir,” her breathy gasps were hard to understand.

  This time the deep voice rang out with laughter, “Now that I will grant you, my young friend.”

  Elise wished she had wrapped her shawl around her shoulders instead of folding it away. She was certain that this unknown rider had a particularly personal view straight down the front of her house dress.

  She continued to stare straight ahead at the scuffed boot in front of her face since the man gave no indication he was going to dismount and talk to her face to face.