Highland Dragon

by Kimberly Killion

  She began to visibly shake as Calin carried her to the base of the stone-cut stairwell.

  “Please, m’laird. Ye cannae do this.”

  He halted on the bottom step, and she knew he’d heard the slight quiver in her voice. “I am cursed. I dinnae want our bairns conceived in an unblessed bed. They are sure to be born deformed or scarred. Please, m’laird. Have Father Harrald bless the bed. I vow to never cause ye trouble ever again.”

  “Ha! Ye are incapable of fulfilling such a vow. Do ye know what ye ask? Father Harrald is blootered. I have nary a doubt he will never survive the climb to our solar.”

  “Then have Kendrick carry him.”

  He blew a long breath of air and shot her an incredulous look. “Ye are serious.”

  “Please. I have not saved myself for ye, confessed my sins, and married ye before God and the kirk to consummate this marriage on an unholy bed.” Akira looked into his eyes and cupped his jaw, praying he would see her reasoning. Her pulse flitted like a frightened bird as she awaited his decision.

  He turned back to Aileen. “Have Alec, Gordon, and Kendrick escort Father Harrald to my solar,” he practically growled.

  “Stuff an oatcake down his throat first and dinnae let him wash it down with whisky.”

  “Aye, m’laird.” Aileen bobbed off, leaving Andrew sleeping soundly in the alcove. He popped a quick kiss onto Akira’s nose, and the lines on his face smoothed after the action. “Just because ye have a forked tongue does not mean ye are cursed.”

  Calin carried her gracefully up the spiral stairs of the west tower to his solar, her heart knocking against her chest with every step.

  The fresh rushes strewn about the floor scented with a hint of chamomile stimulated Akira’s senses. A dancing fire warmed the air and ignited the golden hues of his eyes. Tallow candles flickered in a pair of six-tier silver candelabras on a dressing table, casting a haze of subtle light over the richly decorated chamber. Over the mantel hung his shield, claymore, and battle-axe. All of which were engraved with the MacLeod crest.

  Sprigs of pink and yellow blossoms decorated the walls and furniture, transforming the solar into a miniature garden. In the midst of the solar stood the massive centerpiece—an ornately carved four-poster canopy bed, draped with red wine curtains trimmed in gold. The matching bedding was embellished with a mosaic of white rose petals. As Akira examined the elegance of his solar, she observed their reflection in an oval mirror. Mayhap it was wishful thinking, but they looked like they belonged together. Her hands clutched behind his neck. Her silk-covered toes dangled over the cradle of his brawny arm. He stood in the middle of the chamber, not making any motion to let her go. He resembled a god from a Greek tragedy, and she was to be his virginal sacrifice. No curve touched his lips as typically did when he awaited her approval. He appeared serious, determined, and, oddly enough, slightly nervous. He inhaled and lowered his lids, hiding his amber eyes. Turning into him, she stroked his brow. “The devil himself could seduce a maiden in this solar.”

  Calin lifted his one brow beneath her fingertips. “I have nay intention of seducing ye.”

  “If ye dinnae intend to seduce me, how are ye to take my…virginity?”

  A rogue’s grin curled one side of his mouth, as if he knew something she didn’t. “I’ll never force ye to do anything ye dinnae want to do. Nor will I touch ye anywhere ye dinnae want to be touched. Tonight, Akira MacLeod. Tonight, ye will take your own virginity. I’ll just offer my…assistance.”

  Akira hooted. “Though I admit to being ignorant to…matters of…coupling, I am certain ye will need to participate in…

  this.” “I intend to participate fully,” he assured then dropped her to her feet. He turned from her and proceeded to disrobe to his plaid. Pale white scars veining his back spoke of the time he’d spent in battle, and she knew he displayed them and the blue battle rings with pride. She wanted to know the depth of his losses, but now wasn’t the time to speak of war. He washed briefly at the basin then turned back to her, exposing the golden ripples of a magnificent chest. He settled casually onto the high-backed bench cushioned with burgundy damask. Careful not to topple the two goblets of wine on the dressing table, he scooped up a handful of rowan berries from a wooden bowl and popped them, one by one, into his mouth.

  “Would ye like to start seducing me now or wait ’til the bed has been blessed?”

  She knew nothing about seducing a man, but the thought of it made her insides thick and her breasts heavy. Her nerves spiked and she could do little more than banter with him. “I think ye are arrogant, Calin MacLeod. And if ye think I’ll be the one ravishing ye, ye are deceiving yourself.”

  “Tsk, tsk, wife. Ye must conserve your energy. Ye are going to need it.” Calin revealed his dimples with this threat while his eyes traveled leisurely over her body.

  She remained standing in the middle of the room, hoping Father Harrald would arrive quickly. Calin’s heated gaze made her feel naked and vulnerable. How did he do that? The heavy gown she wore suddenly felt as thin as a threadbare shift. Her skin tingled against the silk and she wondered if she’d just married the devil. Only a hex could make her feel this wanton. He chewed slowly on the berry he’d just popped in his mouth, and her body tightened, wanting to know the feel of those lips on her skin. She crossed her arms over her breasts in an effort to subdue the sensations flitting inside her. Closing her eyes, she asked God’s forgiveness for her sinful thoughts.

  Her prayers were answered when Father Harrald staggered through the open door, bringing with him the smell of burning frankincense. Kendrick, Gordon, and Alec guarded the entranceway behind her as if she might bolt from this duty. Admittedly, the thought had occurred to her.

  Silent reverence filled the room as the priest spread a cloth over the tabletop and prepared the oils. Calin remained seated while Father Harrald made the sign of the cross against his forehead. The priest then wavered slightly when he turned to her and did the same. He proceeded to sprinkle the bed with holy water and recite the prayer that would bless their union. Her tension eased when the priest turned and stood before her again. His dark eyes glazed with approval when he opened his mouth to speak.

  “Father Harrald,” Gordon shouted from behind, “your duty is done. ’Tis time we return to the festivities.”

  Father Harrald offered her a faraway look and kissed her on the forehead saying nothing more. Alec stepped forward, his eyes downcast. “Aileen is in the corridor if ye have need of a maid to prepare ye, m’lady.”

  “She has nay need of a maid. I will prepare her.”

  Even Father Harrald grinned at Calin’s comment, and Akira was sorely tempted to kick all of them. Before she could offer her own barb, the men ushered Father Harrald from the room and left her in silence with her husband.

  “The bed has been blessed, and I believe ye were about to seduce me.” Patting the tiny space beside him, he encouraged her to join him.

  Observing the wolfish grin lifting his face, she doubted she could contrive any barb clever enough to dissolve his good cheer. Instead, she sashayed toward him. When she stood within his grasp, he pulled her onto his lap then tickled her lips with the soft skin of a berry until she conceded to his game and opened her mouth. He lazily let his fingers linger over her moist lips after the third berry, tempting her to lick them. He was good at his game and she felt no reason to battle him. She suckled the red juices from his fingers until he held no more berries in his hand. Flutters of angst filled her stomach. She felt his eyes searching her soul. She was afraid to think, knowing he could somehow read her thoughts. Thoughts that would have made her blush a sennight ago, but now only made her ache. At least she found comfort knowing he was equally affected and aroused. Fully aroused, in fact. The length of his erection had hardened beneath her bottom the moment he pulled her into his lap.

  He handed her a goblet of gooseberry wine. She poured the contents down her throat in one gulp then realized he meant to offer a toast. She held out the
empty cup. “Might ye have the flask of whisky ye gave me as a bridegift?”

  “Ye returned my offering, and ye dinnae need it. Ye may have whisky another night, my sweet.”

  “But I fear I need it tonight.”

  His thumb caressed her parted lips while she tried to make light of their situation. He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. Still, he withheld the kiss. He only breathed in her air. “Would ye like me to kiss ye?”

  Even as she held on to a sliver of her rebellious thoughts, her body told her she wanted that kiss. She wanted anything this man was willing to give. Her eyes slid shut. “Aye,” she whispered into his mouth. He drew her bottom lip into his mouth, suckled it, teased it, then did the same with her top lip. The tangy mixture of wine and berries cooled her hot mouth. She slanted her head and darted her tongue between his lips, pursuing the depths of his mouth in an aggressive race. Her heart pounded so hard against her breastbone she could feel the vibrations in her throat. She needed to calm down. Instead, she intensified their kiss.

  Calin pulled back. “Relax, my sweet. I want this night to last forever, and I want ye to want the same.”

  Akira wanted this night over. His desire to go painstakingly slow only intensified her anxiety. Her nerves were going to ruin her wedding night. She feared making a fool of herself. What if she fell off the bed? What if her limbs wouldn’t position themselves the way they were supposed to?

  This was insane. Maggie had explained the physical mechanics of consummation after Calin’s first query came a year prior. Akira reassured herself that she could manage the task. He was her husband, and he would expect her to perform certain…

  duties. Duties she had no knowledge of, or experience in, but was secretly excited about learning all he could teach her. A wife’s duty, her duty, was to please her husband. And this was exactly how she intended to approach the matter. “I am your wife, m’laird, and I’ll perform as your wife. This is my duty unto ye.”

  “Nay! I dinnae want this to be a duty. I want ye to want me like a woman wants a mon. Not out of duty. Not for the damn alliance. For us. Submit to me and say that ye are mine and mine alone.” His tone bordered on possessive. All traces of banter were gone, leaving his expression one of insistence.

  What did he want from her? She’d agreed not to give him any more grief. There was no question as to whether or not she would be faithful to him. Why did he need to hear her say it?

  The man was contrary and domineering. She did want him and would admit that she belonged to him, but she had to protect her heart. Calin was a warrior and couldn’t possibly return this powerful affection churning inside her. “M’laird, I belong to ye. I’ll do as ye ask.”

  “I dinnae want to be your laird. I want to be your husband. Your protector. I want ye to give me a chance to touch your heart. I want ye to trust me.”

  Her heart ached to do just that, but there hadn’t been enough time between them for her mind to trust him. Was it possible he felt as vulnerable as she did? The question was hopeless and ridiculous. Calin MacLeod was the laird. Men of his status did not love women like her.

  After a long period of silence, he lowered his eyes. His sad expression told her he accepted defeat on the matter. He stroked the exposed area of her collarbone with his fingertips and nuzzled her cheek with his jaw. He poised his lips a hairsbreadth from hers and waited for her to kiss him.

  She explored the hollows of his mouth. Dancing with his tongue, she felt innocent, yet seductive. He kissed her as long as she wanted, and never once did his fingers stray from the curves of her neck. But now she ached to have his powerful hands caress her.

  She pulled away with a soft moan. The tip of her tongue licked her tingling lips. She removed the sash and cape of her own accord. The silk material of her gown sculpted her aroused breasts, swelling overtop the hem of her bodice. Sparks ignited in her womb as she waited for him to touch her, but he remained gallant.

  “M’laird, I could kiss ye all night, but my body tells me I want more. Howbeit, I feel a fool to ask.”

  “I am your husband. Ye’ve nothing to be ashamed of.” He held her hand and kissed the blue vein in her wrist adding to the fever growing inside her. “What do ye ask of me, my sweet Akira?”

  The way he looked at her made her inhibitions fall away. She wouldn’t shy away from his question, nor did she want to. She cupped his hand over her breast and hid her eyes beneath her lashes. “I want ye to touch me…here.”

  Her chest tightened beneath his gentle caress, and the ache intensified when he kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder. Heat leapt beneath her flesh, and the short hairs prickled behind her neck. Leaning forward, she allowed him to release the laces at her back until the bodice of her gown fell to her waist.

  He tilted her chin back up to him. “Dinnae look away. I want ye to see the passion in my eyes. The passion I hold for only ye. My bride. My wife. My Akira.” Calin held her gaze, but trailed his fingers over the fullness of her breast until the tip of his thumb swirled over a peaked nipple.

  On the table beside, he reached for a sprig of siùcair blossoms. After sucking the sweet honey from the septum, he offered another bloom to Akira. She mimicked his lead. Plucking a third from the sprig, he squeezed the nectar between her breasts. His tongue warmed her skin as he licked away the tiny droplets. He proceeded to lave her upper breasts with the ambrosia and ritually bathe it away.

  But Akira wanted more. She needed more and feared exploding into flames if he didn’t cease his torment.

  “More,” she whispered and guided his mouth over her aching nipple. A satisfied moan escaped her throat when his warm mouth suckled her. All thoughts of protecting her heart left her as she set her body free to enjoy his touch. The sensation that had been building behind her breast plummeted into her stomach then seeped lower until a fire ignited between her legs. She wiggled in his lap and hoped this ferocity was normal.

  His hands stilled the movements of her hips. “Dinnae do that.”

  She studied his pained expression. “Do ye ache the same as I?”

  He nodded slowly, almost cautiously. “But ’tis a good ache. One I know ye will soon remedy.”

  She smiled and accepted his words as a compliment just as her hands found their way over the contours of his chest. The fresh scent of sandalwood permeated her senses while she tasted the spice of his skin—down his neck then over the breadth of his strong shoulders. She showed him the same attention only more aggressive as she bit and tugged at his small nipple. She twitched and yearned to move faster, still Calin didn’t break his poise. He continued to titillate her breasts, until she pushed off him then stood. She wanted him—now, and he showed no signs of advancing. After releasing her arms from the sleeves, she pushed the gown over her hips. A pool of yellow material fell in a silken whisper to her feet. She repressed the urge to cover herself when his eyes followed the contours of her body. The way he looked at her made her dizzy as if she were the most sensual creature in the world.

  The sight before him made Calin’s manhood jump. Every ounce of Akira’s creamy flesh curved into the next. Her flaring hips were wide and every bit as full as her breasts. Arms and legs sculpted lightly with feminine muscle, and the small patch of dark curls only whispered at what treasures lay beneath.

  A rush of excitement spiraled up his spine as he walked to her then traced the edges of those exquisite curves with one finger. Under both breasts, down the middle of her torso to her navel, then rounding out over one hip. “May God blind me now and leave your vision tattooed upon my eyes.” With his knuckle, he raised her chin to him again. “I dinnae lie when I tell ye, ye are beautiful.”

  She blushed under the glow of the room, and he thought she might actually believe him this time. He hoped she did, for it was true.

  He clutched her head between his hands then fiercely kissed her swollen lips before carrying her to the bed. Undeniable passion turned her sapphire eyes to near black. He proceeded to adorn her petal-soft skin wi
th tender kisses, lingering over her hipbones until he swirled her navel with his tongue. She was exquisite. The taste of her. The smell of her. The feel of her. He’d never wanted to please anyone the way he did her. The desire he felt for her not only filled his erection to a painful size, but his chest ached with an emotion stronger than devotion. He’d never felt more alive. He wanted her to want him. Calin MacLeod. The man. She could trust him with her heart. He would never hurt her. He pressed a kiss over her heart and felt the vibration pounding against his lips. He splayed his palm over her breast to feel the pulse stronger. She wanted him. Her words may deny it, but her heart mocked her. The more her breathing increased, the faster he wanted to go.

  She released the leather thong gathering his hair then weaved her fingers through it. She whimpered and urged his head back to her rigid nipples, all the while grinding her pelvis against the knee firmly planted between her legs. Her heat scorched his bare thigh, and nearly stripped him of dignity. He wanted to suck harder, to bite, to taste the warm nectar between her legs with a savage ferocity that would send her screaming, yet pleading for more. As he drew her delectable skin between his lips, a fever coursed through his veins that begged him to take her. The muscles in his arms and legs tightened against his inner battle until he groaned in misery. A voice in his head reminded him, Be gentle. She is a virgin. Ye will tear her in two. The chamber became unbearably hot. Perspiration beaded her temple, and above her lip, then over her throat, and between her breasts. The wisps of hair falling from her headdress clung to her neck in laced swirls. He didn’t know the source of the heat. Did her body burn his hands? Or was it his hands that scorched her body?

  “I dinnae know what to do. Your touch, your kiss…ye are inflicting great pain on my person. I dinnae know how, but I cannae bear it.”

  Calin saw the fright wash over her face, and sought to end her torment, along with his own. “Do ye want me to touch ye?”