The Highlander's Taken Bride (Scottish Highlander Romance)

by Kaley McCormick

  She smiled into his eyes after taking a long moment to study his gifted member. Imagine a fit and honest man, with his cock not compromised by bad blood flow and overdrinking. A firm body and all the energy she could handle—for once.

  He lowered himself down to her and impatiently waited for her to lie on her back. He shoved her down onto the grass and forcibly spread her legs, eager to see the inside of her pink pussy waiting for him, soaking up for him.

  His loss of control only turned her on all the more so, and she spread her legs wider, bending her knees and readying the position for full penetration.

  He leaned upwards to get his cock into position and penetrated her slowly, pushing passed her moist lips and falling into her reservoir of juices.

  “Aaahhh!” she sang out, feeling his inches burrow deeper, slipping in past the comfort zone of her husband’s tiny, alcohol-mired dick which only reached four and a half inches. This man was long, a big thick cock to fill her up with veiny ridges that tickled her every time he withdrew and then pushed back in.

  After slow stroking her for a few moments, he felt his passion returning and plunged his cock in harder, deeper and faster. Every time he felt himself leave her, her body tensed and her lips became tighter. When he pushed himself deeper inside, she was just a little bit wetter, and with every inch he shifted inside, her inner canal expanded giving him more room to explore.

  Her breathing became frantic, as he pummeled his cock deeper inside, grabbing her arms and pinning them to the cold hard ground. Her breasts bounced back and forth slapping him in the face, which prompted him to bury his mouth in between them. He pumped his cock deeper and with more power, thrusting his hard buttocks up and down every time he went deeper.

  Nessie’s body began to shake violently, as his cock was too strong and long to give out yet. Every passing minute of his rigid cock brought her closer to wailing out and losing all control over her body. He kept moving in deeper, hitting spongy areas inside that she never felt before and activating passions that were downright unwomanly and more animal-like. She screamed like a demon as she plowed her pussy deep, pulling out every inch just to see how wet his cock was, before sending it back inside.

  Her breathing escalated and she grabbed him across the back, first hugging him but soon scratching him with her fingernails in desperation. It hurt but it was a good type of hurt, the kind that only made him pump harder.

  The friction was too much to bear and he was moments away from losing it all. He grabbed her wrists tightly and pounded them on the ground, making sure she stayed motionless while his rock hard cock started to break.

  “Unnghhh…”

  He shoved himself in deep and stopped withdrawing. His whole body shook as he lost his might and spasmed in every direction, unloading his red cock into this married woman’s fertile chamber. She lost count as to how many times his angry sperm spurted into her valley, but still counted the number of deep exhales that he sent all over her neck, chest and chin.

  “Ohhhh!” he gasped, still deep inside her even while his balls emptied and his cock began slowly decreasing in girth.

  They found each other’s eyes and locked together for a few long and breathy moments. He finally pushed himself off her and lied back on the ground.

  “That’s what happens when you invade my personal space, woman.”

  “Oh believe me, I know that now.”

  He looked over at her, studying her smile and gauging what she really felt about the whole thing.

  “Something’s off, isn’t it? You’re not sorry about what we did. You asked for it. I told you not to push me.”

  “I know. I never said I was happily married. I was simply with husband.”

  “I see. And no children?”

  She stared at him and kept silent. “No. The bastard doesn’t deserve my womb. But the way you unloaded on me, I believe that might change soon enough.”

  “Ahhh,” he said. “I only do it the old fashioned way, don’t I?”

  “Listen. Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Might as well. We’ve shared so much else already.”

  She smiled and bit her lip. “What I meant to say was…I didn’t trust you before. I had no reason to trust you.”

  “Right.”

  “I figured I would give you what you wanted. My body. If that’s what you wanted. But I wouldn’t turn over a child to you. Knowing the way marauders deal with the younglings.”

  “I knew I saw a boy in that room…what happened to him?”

  “He’s still there,” she said in anxiety. “I told him to hide in the closet under a barrage of clothes and don’t dare make a sound. He was safer there at the moment. But, Artair, the longer those ruffians stay there, the more likely they will find him…and kill him.”

  Artair sighed. But how could he blame her? No woman in her right mind would trust a man with such knowledge. Maybe if nothing else, he was flattered that she finally trusted him at least a trifle’s worth to confess.

  “Of course you know I’ll help you. The poor thing’s probably scared shitless if he’s still alive.”

  “And my…husband?”

  “Right.”

  “He’s a no good, lying abusive son of a bitch. But I don’t think I could let him die just the same.”

  “You’re a better person than I am, Nessie. Let’s go see what happened. But follow my lead. We can’t afford to get caught this time.”

  **

  IV

  Artair agreed to walk the area by himself, hoping to distract the men from discovering Nessie, who had the task of finding the cottage where little Jayven was still, hopefully, hiding. Artair knew that if and when he was discovered it was would be a grueling fight. By now Emery’s men knew that he had deserted them. And that was as good a reason to die as any in this lawless land.

  But little did Emery or even Nessie know that Artair was no ordinary warrior. He could well take all of them, even if it was a huge risk to his health and healing time for the upcoming battle. So he gave her a knife to carry in her ragged clothing—a bit more ragged and jagged than before now that Artair had done his worst—just in case something went wrong and she was discovered by the ruffians.

  Artair went onward, inching his way around the site but not finding anyone of immediate threat. A pity, he thought, that he might not run into anyone out of necessity. Part of him really wanted to waste all this refuse. But this mission wasn’t about vengeance, just protection.

  Or maybe a bit of vengeance, since by something more than happenstance Nessie ran into a familiar face.

  “Nessie?” William said, smelling of alcohol as usual, but surprisingly bad timing nonetheless.

  “William is that you?” Nessie asked.

  “Of course it’s me. Where the hell have you run off to? I been looking everywhere for ye.”

  “Oh have you now?”

  “Savages raided the site while you were away. At first I hid myself, until I realized that if I just pretended to be one of the warriors, I could probably act my way out of a predicament. I grabbed my old tattered armor and joined the crowd.”

  “Did you, now?” Nessie asked in suspicion.

  “Aye. Ingratiated myself rather well. Although it was a bit rough having to put down some of my own people.”

  “Wait a minute. You pretend to be one of their men…and then just attacked your own people?”

  “Well I had to, didn’t I?” he asked defensively. “It was either me or them. Children you know, they don’t even count as lives when they’re so young.”

  Nessie squinted her eyes in judgment. She knew what she wanted to do. But her better judgment stepped in and delayed smashing him in the face. Instead, she found his eyes and gathered every last emotion of hate buried in her soul.

  “Now you listen hear, William. You want to know where I’ve been?”

  “Hiding, I gather?”

  “No. One of the warriors took me, William. And he had his way with me.”

  Wi
lliam stared back in venom, not quite concerned about the dishonorable taking of his wife, but rather upset that another man had known her pleasure.

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Well-”

  But Nessie interrupted. “Well what? The funny part of it is, even though I had no choice in the matter, I enjoyed it. I loved what he did to me, William. You hear me?”

  William scowled and stared a hole through her, already turning red with hateful thoughts.

  “He slipped his cock inside of me and it was bigger than you ever could hope for. How does that make you feel?”

  “This is what you have to tell me? After I came looking for you and saved your life?”

  “You didn’t save my life, dear one,” she laughed scornfully. “You unfortunately prolonged it. You didn’t save a single one of your own people. You let them die just the same. You turned your entire village against you.”

  She tightened her eyebrows and smiled a bit madly. “And I thought of what a little-dicked man you were, just as he came inside me with that monster of manhood. What do you make of that? He got me pregnant, lover. He’s going to have your baby.”

  William had heard enough and didn’t take one extra second before punching her in the face, sending Nessie hurling to the ground. He stood tall after the punch, watching her struggle to get up and folding his arms, quite proud of his dominance.

  “Good…I just wanted you to know why exactly I felt inclined to do this.”

  Nessie reached into her a folded patch of clothing where she hid the knife Artair gave to her for protection. She lunged the knife into William’s throat, causing him to gurgle out an announcement of shock and spite…but it wasn’t enough to taint the wonderful site of him up and dying. A painful, noisy and very messy death, just as he deserved.

  Artair was busy tracking down the remaining men, who were scarcely seen at dusk. Alert too many of them and cause a full scale riot. Alert too few of them and have hours of boring, pointless slaying to do. In actuality, he only thought one of them had to die. The leader, the great influencer who seduced all these stupid young fools into joining a pseudo-family just for a sense of belonging.

  Finally, he spotted Emery from a short distance, exiting a house and pulling his pants up. Artair eyed the lax man in contempt, although he noticed in the corner of his vision that Nessie and her child friend were escaping the home and running freely into the forest. He smiled, relieved that they got to safety and they could all go home.

  But his blood was still boiling. The immortal in him still lived with fury, and the thirst for blood had overtaken him once again. The other highlander was near, somewhere, and the craving for battle, for the Game, called to him.

  No sense in wasting such adrenaline on peaceful resolution or avoidance. After all, he made a bond with Emery which he broke. He walked over to the house Emery exited and waited, stalking his victim slowly and with hardly a sound.

  When Emery finally came out, he lay low, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

  “You killed the children, didn’t you? Even when I told you not to. You broke an agreement.”

  Emery laughed in derision. “Is that who I think it is? Oh what a brave thing for a deserter to say.” Emery raised his voice in a call to action for his marauder band.

  “Attention! A deserter has come baaaa-!”

  In just one swipe, Artair returned his extended sword back to his shoulder, decapitating the head of Emery. No surprise, he figured as he grabbed the head in midair and let him finish his statement.

  “And what do we do…with…” the head barely mumbled as the gore leaked out beneath, finally ending all receptor communication to the brain.

  He held the enemy’s head up eye to eye and chuckled. “Of course the other highlander wasn’t you, lad. You’re barely a scratch on my sword. A silly sprint of energy that’s distracting me from the battle of my life. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy killing you.”

  Artair walked to the middle of the ex-village site, looking on at the rubble and desolation. He could tell some of the marauders had already left the scene, probably bored or annoyed at Emery’s leadership.

  To the few that remained he had a special message, loudly delivered in the village center. “Just fair warning…this is Artair from a few days ago. I know you’ve done terrible things. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll sneak out of here while you can. Quietly. So that I don’t accidentally run into you. Because if I do find you, I’m going to kill you just like this fellow.”

  Emery’s head on a spear emphasized the message well enough, and within hours, surely, the remaining group of invaders had disbanded in fear and scattered into the farthest parts of the wilderness. Artair had to conserve his strength for the battle ahead and so was relieved that he didn’t have to kill many more. One or two, definitely, and that was also a bit of fun.

  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 r
an 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.