Tamed by a Highlander

by Paula Quinn

  Win her? Och, God, he just prevailed victorious. She moved in to kiss him and frowned instead when the deer leaped away and out of sight. “I frightened them.”

  Connor lifted his hand to her face and cupped her cheek. He looked into her eyes like a man who had just returned home from years of battle. “I have been lost without ye, Mare.”

  “Fergive me,” she said as his mouth covered hers.

  His kiss was like a brand against her lips, scalding with checked desire. The flick of his tongue burned like a flame, consuming her until there was nothing left but him, his taste, his scent, his passion. She tunneled her fingers through his damp, silky hair and stroked her palms over his bristly jaw, opening her mouth to his.

  Closing his arms around her, he deepened their kiss. She answered with equal fervor until they both tumbled off their haunches and onto the wet, leafy ground. He took most of the blow, landing on his back, but offered her a slow, scintillating smile before cupping her nape and dragging her back for more.

  Mairi liked her position on top of him, though she was mindful of putting too much of her weight on his wound. She darted her tongue over his and ran her palms over the sleek muscles of his chest. She had not told him, but she had remained chaste in his absence. Why in blazes would she want another man after she had had him? When she groaned against his firm mouth, he flipped her over on her back without breaking their kiss and covered her with his body. She tried to move, still cautious of hurting him. He pressed his hand to her hip to hold her still and wedged his erection hard between her thighs, ready to take back sole ownership of her if he chose to do so. She answered by biting his lower lip in a last attempt to rein in the beast. He smiled against her teeth, pulling a groan from deep within her, and cupped her rump in his palm. He rubbed his need against her in a flagrant display of his victory—a victory that she welcomed.

  “Nae,” he groaned roughly, and rose back upon his haunches. “Not here.” Taking her hand, he hauled her to her feet and turned her around to look beyond the grove. “Do ye see that?”

  She narrowed her eyes and then she took a step forward. Was that a rooftop? A chimney?

  He took her hand before she could ask him and led her and their horses through the thicket. They emerged in an open field of grass and lush carpets of bluebell and poppies. It was so beautiful that Mairi had to stop to take it all in. He urged her onward, bringing her to where the field sloped downward into a small vale.

  Mairi stopped again, and this time Connor remained still at her side as she gazed at a small manor house nestled in the center of the vale, surrounded on every side by more bluebells and tall yellow flowers that swayed in the misty breeze.

  “ ’Tis…” She caught her breath and fought the sudden sting behind her eyes.

  “Aye?”

  “… the bonniest place I have ever seen. Who lives there?”

  “I do.”

  She turned to look at him, unsure if she heard him right. “Ye?” When he nodded, she shook her head. “I thought ye lived at Whitehall? How…? When…?”

  He smiled. “I began building it seven years ago.” He curled his fingers around hers again and picked up his steps. “It has only been finished fer two and I haven’t been able to spend much time in it, but ’tis a place to come when I need a rest from society and practiced propriety.”

  “Ye built this seven years ago?” she asked, still stunned by the sight of it, and now by what his words meant, as well.

  He’d built her a home, just as he’d promised. He had never promised where. “Is this where we were to live if I had come to ye?”

  “Aye, if it pleased ye.”

  If it pleased her? It was absolutely perfect. Though it did not have Camlochlin’s spiky turrets and solid battlements carved from the side of a mountain, it was the closest thing to her beloved Highland home that she’d ever seen. She swiped a tear from her eye and looked away from him, lest he see. How long had he searched for this location? The sloping vale, the wildflowers that scented the air, the gossamer mist that hovered above the chimney? Dear God, he had truly wanted her to come here and live with him. To be his, always, just as he’d promised.

  “I was a fool,” she said softly, wondering how he didn’t hate her for her constant rejection. “I—”

  He captured her words and her breath with a deep, needful kiss that weakened her in his arms.

  “Let’s begin again.”

  She nodded, surrendering her heart to him fully, trusting him completely. She smiled when he scooped her up and carried her to the front door, and then beyond.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Mairi didn’t see the interior of the house Connor had built for her. Cradled in his arms, she saw nothing but the desire in his storm-colored eyes while he carried her up the stairs.

  “I love ye, Mairi. Only ye fer the rest of my days.”

  He spoke true. It was all there in the way he looked down at her behind the golden wisps of his hair. He was lost, hopelessly in love with her, and helpless to do anything to stop it.

  Her heart exalted. She felt as if she were dreaming. Only, her dreams had not been this wonderful. He loved her. He’d never stopped. Lord, was it true? Had God been listening to her childish prayers, and granted them now that she was a woman? Had she wasted so much time without him, hating him, angry at the world for taking him from her?

  She knew where he was bringing her, and she wanted to go with him. She wasn’t coy or shy about what he wanted to do with her. She had been with him before, had wished for years to be with him again.

  Was he real?

  She reached up to touch his face, unsure. He smiled against her fingers and then kissed them. “Tell me again.”

  “I love ye,” he whispered, knowing what she wanted him to say. When she pulled him in for another kiss, he responded with equal fervor, opening his mouth to relish in the taste of her and give back the passion she offered as they fell onto a heavenly soft mattress.

  She had no idea how he managed to undo the endless clasps of her gown with one hand, when it took an extra pair to dress her. She didn’t care. His mouth covering hers distracted her from everything else. His hot, eager tongue stroked her like a flame, deep, scintillatingly slow, driving her to madness. His hands, tender yet firm, ignited her nerve endings everywhere they touched her. She felt the soft silk of her gown come away, leaving only the thin shift beneath. She didn’t recoil at his seeing her scantily clad body. Nae, she knew this man. He knew her body, and she knew his.

  At least, she thought she did.

  When he rose up off the bed to tear at his shirt, exposing the hard, rippling sinews beneath, she caught her breath and reached for him. She’d seen him in his sickbed, not poised above her breathing heavily and ready to take her. She ran her fingertips over scars that were not there when last she lay with him. Seven years had changed him, thickening his muscles, sculpting him into something so perfect she almost couldn’t believe he was hers.

  He bent and swept his mouth across hers again, seeming to grow even harder as he pulled at the laces securing his breeches. He didn’t undress completely, but withdrew enough to cast his hungry gaze over her.

  “Ye’re mine, Mairi.” He vowed, kissing her again. “Ye will always be mine.”

  Aye, she knew it was the truth. No man in seven years came close to winning her heart. No man but Connor Grant ever would.

  He swept his palms down her arms and cupped her breasts through the damp thinness of her shift. He groaned, breaking their kiss to graze his teeth over her chin, down her throat, setting fire to her nerve endings. She felt his fingers tighten on the neckline of her shift. She heard the sound of the fine linen tearing in two. Her breath stopped as her breasts spilled out into his powerful hands.

  “I want ye bare, hot, and wet beneath me.”

  She didn’t know if it was the husky pitch of his voice that made her muscles convulse beneath him or the hunger in his eyes, like a man… nae, not a man but a wolf who had just spo
tted its prey after weeks without food. He wanted to devour her and she wanted him to do it. She had wasted enough time rejecting him and now she wanted to give him what he desired, what was his from the day he had first touched her. Saints, but he was touching her now, everywhere, with every part of him. His tongue flicking over her sensitive nipple drove her to the edge of darkness, or mayhap it was the erotic surge of his hips, grinding all that hard male desire, still confined in his tight breeches, deeper against the heat of her inner thighs. She scored her fingernails down his back and delighted in the gentle agony of his teeth razing the soft mound of her breast, the honeyed stubble along his jaw, rough against her flesh. He was hers, and hers alone. She no longer doubted it, and she wanted more of him, every thick, throbbing inch.

  She cupped his face in her trembling hands and pulled him up to kiss him again. His mouth was rough, his kiss harsh, hungry, and passionate. She pushed him off her, using her hips, clinging to his face… his lips as she turned him on his back and straddled him.

  But this was not a man who would be so easily subdued, though he did enjoy the challenge. He gazed up at her, his smile dark and dangerous as he took in the full sight of her, her long black tresses falling to his hips. He tore the rest of her shift away, yanked the full length of it over her head, and then flung it aside. She did not mind being naked in front of him, on top of him. Not when the luster in his eyes revealed what he thought of her.

  He told her nonetheless. “Ye’re so fine, Mairi MacGregor. Ye lay waste to my heart and restore my soul.”

  “And ye, Connor Grant, are the master of my heart.” She pushed off his hips to pull his breeches down over his thighs. Dear Lord, he had grown! She smiled, despite the trepidation that coursed through her when his imposing shaft sprang forth toward the heavens. “Ye have finally succeeded in frightening me.”

  “I don’t believe it.” He laughed, beguiling her senseless with the beauty of his face. She knew every inch of it, every angle, every expression. She missed it in her life and would give up anything to have it back. Anything he asked.

  He sat up to get closer to her, kicked his breeches away from his ankles, and curled his arm around her waist. “Ye’ve ridden me before, Mare.” He wound her long hair around his fist and pulled her head back, exposing her throat to his mouth. He bit her and gave her rear a short slap, driving her up over his heavy erection.

  She could have been afraid of taking such a beast, pulsing and ready between her legs, and of the master who wielded it with such passion and dominance. But his power over her, even looking up at her, thrilled her too much to be afraid. There were no coy pretenses about her virginity. She knew what to expect and she couldn’t wait to have him inside her again.

  Cupping her hips against his, he laved his tongue down the valley between her breasts, kissing and sucking her nipples until she squirmed atop him. His rough palms grazed over her buttocks, squeezing and guiding her in a rhythm that matched his own.

  “Look at ye.” He withdrew just enough to set his simmering gaze on her. “Bare, hot, and verra wet.” He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue as though he couldn’t wait to taste her.

  He would have to wait a wee bit longer, for his thick shaft felt too good against her. She managed a teasing smile while she lifted her hands to scoop up her hair. “But not beneath ye.” She gyrated her hips, slower, deeper.

  “Ye will be,” he promised, spreading her over his full length. “After I have ye from behind, then against the wall, and then on yer knees.”

  He bent his knees behind her, pinning her in the cradle of his hips. He swiped her backside again and moved faster beneath her, pressing her over the length of his cock. His mouth clamped down on her breast. He sucked her hard, kneading her rear in his strong hands until he pulled back his glorious head and came all over his bandaged waist.

  Connor’s muscles spasmed, jerking him upward, harder against her wet crux while the last of his seed spilled over his belly.

  He laid back his head, gave out a lusty sigh, then smiled up at her again. “Now that we got that out of the way.” He took her bottom in his hands. “Come here.” He hadn’t had enough. He hadn’t even begun.

  He was here with her… in their house, in their bed. How many years had he envisioned it? How hard had he tried to stop? She was here with him, surrendering all, finally ready to have him back. He’d asked her how long he should have waited for her. He knew now that he would have waited an eternity. This was his woman, his life mate. They’d been fortunate to meet early, when life was filled with adventure and games, fortunate to be taught what true love should feel like so they would never forget it. He never would, and he wouldn’t let her forget either.

  He sat up and lifted her tight rump off him. He was going to claim that too if she wasn’t careful. When he shifted to the edge of the bed, his upright shaft rubbed against her and she rolled back her head, driving him wild with the need to be inside her.

  He rose off the bed to his feet, taking her with him. Straddling her legs around him, he gripped his cock in one hand and her arse in the other, and glided his head over her moist entrance. She groaned and clung to him as he drove his heavy shaft inside her, halfway to the hilt. He held her tight when she cried out, waited a moment longer, then pushed against her again. He kissed away her gentle protests with exquisite care, more in control now, but still less than he wished. He didn’t want to hurt her, though he was pleased to find her body so tight. Wrapped around him in nature’s embrace, her silken sheath gripping him like a vise, her face, even more beautiful than she was in his dreams, worked at quickening his next release. He slowed, wanting to make love to her until the sun set and then rose again.

  Taking her bottom lip between his teeth and fitting his palms beneath her buttocks, he held her up against him while he pushed himself deeper. She jerked in his arms as her pain ebbed and pleasure’s talons took hold. He licked the seam of her mouth, lifting her in his hands, spreading her wide and then pushing her back down upon his full length. She cried out and he smiled, covering her mouth. Writhing in his arms, she stroked him to the precipice of madness. This time, he would shoot his bounty into her, reclaiming what belonged to him.

  His ecstasy swelled, driving him into her faster, harder, until he drove her against the wall. He cradled her face in his palms and held her up with the force of his thrusts. Her nails along his arms felt like the snap of a whip across his back. She cried out again, close to her release and moving atop him now like a serpent, smooth and sinuous. He erupted watching her come and rammed her hard with each endless spurt he shot into her.

  Later, they lay coiled in each other’s arms, sated, for now, and basking in the relaxation their exertion had wrought.

  “Tongues will be flapping by tomorrow because of our disappearance,” Mairi said, tracing her finger gently over his bandaged waist.

  Hell, how could the gentle stroke of her fingertips heat his blood again so soon? “They’ve already begun.”

  “Lady Oxford and Lady Hollingsworth will likely try to claw out my eyes. I dinna’ blame them though. ’Tis a fine man they lost to me.” She lifted her eyes to his and smiled, smiting his heart.

  “Ye built a house fer me, Connor.”

  “I did.”

  “Ye pined fer me.”

  When his only answer this time was a dark scowl, her smile deepened and she snuggled closer to him. “Tell me about all the letters ye sent to my brother asking about me.”

  Hell, why did she have to look so bonnie in his arms that he was tempted to turn away before he grinned back at her like some lovesick fool. Which was exactly what he was. “Ye’re a black-hearted wench, Mairi.”

  Her soft laughter muddled his senses, her satisfied sigh set his pathetic heart racing.

  “I was thinking about Henry.”

  What? He pulled away from her to look at her fully. “When?”

  “Well, he has been on my mind,” she admitted.

  Hell, he didn’t want to hear
this. Since the day he’d arrived, she’d spent much of her time with Oxford. Now she was thinking of the bastard while they made love? If she didn’t care for him, then why? He had to know once and for all.

  “What is yer interest in Henry de Vere?”

  “He is a well of information. He knows everything about everyone here.”

  Connor stared at her in mild disbelief and horror. He knew he should feel relieved by her confession, but he had the sudden urge to throttle her.

  “So ye’re spinning yer web around him to gain information from him about Cameronians?”

  “I told ye, I never mentioned Cameronians to him.”

  “Mairi, are ye mad? Do ye not realize that yer asking questions could lead to—”

  She looked like she wanted to slap him, but he didn’t back away. “I am not a fool, Connor.”

  “—one of our enemies trying to cause ye harm?”

  She arched her brow at him. “Our enemies?”

  Aye, he was going to throttle her good and then have her locked away in the Tower for her own safety. “Bloody hell, Mairi. Our enemies, aye. We fight fer the same cause.”

  “Aye, now that we have a Catholic king, we do.”

  “Before that, as well,” he argued. “Charles may have been Protestant, but he accepted our ways of thinking and never tried to impose his laws on us. Yer own faither showed him allegiance.”

  She remained silent for a moment. Was it too much to hope that his spirited stubborn wench agreed with him?

  “Mayhap ye are correct about asking too many questions,” she admitted, bringing a sigh to his lips. “But he did bring up the Cameronians to me.”

  “I want ye to cease this, Mairi. I don’t like that ye are involved with rebels.”

  She had the supreme boldness to laugh right in his face. He cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. He knew she didn’t like being told what to do, but that was too bloody bad. She was going to listen to him. “Hear me, woman—”