The Highland Rogue

by Amy Jarecki

  “Do you ken the names of all these sails?”

  “I do.”

  For the first time since she climbed up the rigging, Divana dared to look beyond the decks. “Oh my, the sea is so vast—and I cannot see another vessel anywhere.”

  “Once we enter the trade routes, you see them often enough.” Runner stood, grabbed a rope, and leaned so far out the nest, if it snapped, he’d fall to his death.

  “Careful!”

  “I can swing down to the decks from here if I want.” Laughing, he hoisted himself out of the nest and swung around the mast. “All ye need to ken when you’re working as a spotter is when ye see a ship, there are three very important things to look for—the type and size of the vessel—so we can gauge how many guns she’s carrying. How low she is in the water—so we ken if her hull’s laden with cargo. And what sort of flag she’s flying. Black flags are the worst, especially if they have a skull and bones.”

  She shuddered. “Pirates.”

  “Aye.”

  She checked the pennant flapping at the top of the center mast. “Kennan flies the Saint Andrew’s cross.”

  “He does.”

  “Och, I kent it. The captain would never fly a black flag.”

  “Not in these waters.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The black skull and bones is meant to strike fear in the hearts of sailors when ye aim to take their ship.”

  “But Kennan would never take anyone’s ship…”

  “Captain, mind you. And not unless they’re his enemy.”

  “Like Jackson Vane?”

  “You’d best believe it—Davy.” Runner winked. “Are ye accustomed to your new name as of yet?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose ’tis not too unlike Divana.”

  “Just repeat it over and over ’cause I reckon it’ll be a year or two afore anyone uses your real name again—unless…”

  “Unless.”

  He twisted his mouth and looked toward the quarterdeck. “Unless someone discovers you’re really a lass.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kennan leaned back in his velvet-upholstered dining chair while Divana sat at the table practicing her letters.

  It had been a fortnight since she’d first been brought to his cabin, a fortnight of torture. Torture because at night when they were locked in his cabin, he’d lean over her to teach her something new or to listen to her beguiling voice as she sounded out a word. Every time he was within arm’s reach, she captivated him.

  Nights were the worst, having a woman’s scent fill the cabin, calling to him. Yet he’d vowed to protect the lass, not ravish her.

  Days weren’t much better. Every time she climbed to the crow’s nest, his miserable heart stuck in his throat. And it put him on edge while she was up there—he groused at anyone who stood in his way. Damn, he kept one eye on the lass at all times. She wasn’t as sure with the rigging as Runner—one slip and she’d be injured, mayhap killed. And when she was working on deck, it was an utter distraction with the way her breeches hugged her hips. Worse, Kennan was ready to lash out with the cat-o’-nine-tails whenever anyone gave her lip—though she could give it right back, bless her.

  He watched Divana’s quill move as she bit the corner of her mouth, trying to make every stroke perfect—perfect like the crescent of her petite nose, the splay of red eyelashes half-cast as she studied, the slender arc of her waist.

  He rubbed the ache in his damned loins. Was he to be hard throughout the entire voyage?

  Divana glanced up and smiled, turning the parchment his way. “What do ye think?”

  She should have been a scholar. Her handwriting was artful with hardly any blotches—which wasn’t easy on a sailing ship. He gave a nod of approval. “I’ll give you top levels for this.”

  She retrieved the paper, a bit of color springing to her cheeks. “Ye’re nay just saying that to make me feel better?”

  “’Tisn’t in my nature to give credit when it isn’t due—especially top levels.”

  Her blush grew redder as she gazed at him out of the corner of her eye. He’d received such a look before, and not only from her. It was a feminine shift of the eye, informing him of the desire lurking deep within—whether she knew it or not. “Does that mean I’ve earned a favor?”

  Kennan adjusted his seat, trying to push away his errant thoughts—like pulling off her shirt and slowly unwinding the bindings covering her breasts. Like unbuttoning her falls and ripping her breeches from those sumptuous hips.

  “Ah…perhaps,” he mumbled. “What sort of favor?”

  She pushed back her chair, her gaze focused on him. And when she sauntered near, her hips swayed with every lingering step.

  Kennan’s breath caught as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

  “Ye ken Fiona and Garry are engaged to be wed?” she whispered in his ear, her voice as sultry as the air of the southern sea.

  “I’d heard.”

  “I saw them.”

  When Kennan tried to swallow, his Adam’s apple stuck in his throat, swelling to the size of a shinty ball. The tingling beneath her fingertips, her warm breath on his neck, meant one thing, and he didn’t know if he could resist. His gaze met hers, and those vibrant blues confirmed it. Passion thrummed through her blood, driving her mad just as it did to him.

  Divana’s gaze slid to his lap. “They were rutting.”

  The corner of his mouth ticked up, along with another part of his body—the place where she was staring. “Rutting?”

  A pink tongue slipped over her lip as she nodded, placing her hands on the table. “Fiona’s skirts were hiked up all the way to her…”

  “Hips?”

  Divana arched her back and spread her legs. “And Garry was behind.”

  Good God, the lout had taken his intended like a dog?

  “Would you?” Her gaze slipped to the bulge beneath his kilt. “Want to?”

  If Kennan thought he was hard, he’d been fooling himself. His cock lengthened to the point of excruciating pain. God’s stones, he’d win a battle fighting with his rod as stiff as iron. “Do you ken what you’re saying, lass?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

  She blushed, her eyes so filled with want, they were practically black. “I ken I haven’t been able to think of much else but rutting with ye.”

  He gulped, blinking to clear the stars in his vision, hoping to bring some bloody sense to his addled mind. “To begin with, ’tisn’t rutting—at least not with me it won’t be. And secondly, you’re supposed to be saving yourself for your husband. You’re a-a nice lass.” He’d nearly said well-bred, but she’d argue such a claim in a heartbeat.

  “Fiona is a nice lass.”

  “But she’s engaged to be married.”

  “She wasn’t when I saw them.” Divana straightened, fingering the buttons on her falls and staring at the floor. “Do you not want me?”

  Kennan dug in his heels and shoved his chair back, tugging her between his legs. “’Tis not a question of want, ’tis a question of honor.”

  “And if I ru—ah—do that with ye, I will lose me honor?”

  “Nay, I will lose mine. I promised to watch out for you, not ravish you.”

  “I’m tired of saving meself for another when all I want is ye.”

  Her shoulders fell along with her frown. Hell, even a tear spilled from her eye.

  Unable to help himself, he wrapped her in his arms and tilted that lovely face to his. “God, I want you, Divana.”

  Their lips fused as her sigh vibrated through him—all the way down to his cock. He was powerless to push her away, not when she felt so good in his arms. Not when she wanted him as much as he craved her. Kennan plunged his tongue into her mouth and took his plunder. He’d kissed her before, but never had he tasted her wildness, experienced her urgency and unbridled passion.

  Discarding all the barriers and reasons he’d constructed to prevent himself from taking her, he collected the woman in his embrace an
d took her to the bed. Within a few ticks of the wall clock he’d removed her garments, unwrapped her bindings, and had her bare, staring at the creamiest skin he’d ever seen.

  Fully clothed, he kneeled between her legs and smoothed his hands from her shoulders to her breasts, swirling his thumbs around her hardened nipples. Downward he went, drinking her in. “You are so bloody beautiful.”

  “Ye reckon so?” she asked, panting erotically.

  “You have no idea how alluring you are. How long has it been since we met? That’s how long I’ve resisted you.”

  “Near three months,” she said, reaching for his hands. “But I’ve longed for you more, I ken it.”

  “Hush.”

  “I want to see ye bare as well.”

  He rocked back on his haunches and chuckled, whipping the shirt over his head. “It takes but a few flicks of the fingers to disrobe a Highlander,” he said, unfastening his belt and letting his plaid fall around his knees.

  “Saint Columba,” she said as if his member astounded her.

  And her reaction made him harder.

  She rolled over and pushed up to her hands and knees. “Is this right?”

  Och aye, what a glorious bottom presented to him—legs wide—the slick wetness of her core open to him. All he needed to do was slip inside, grab those shapely hips, and thrust. God, how he wanted to tup her now. “Nay,” he managed in a strangled whisper, coaxing her hips back to the mattress. “I’d never ask you to lower yourself that way.”

  She turned, crossing her arms over her breasts, concern and, perhaps, shame reflected in her eyes. “But how?”

  Careful not to crush her, he stretched over her and nuzzled into her neck. “I’ll show you, lass, if it is truly what you want.” He had to ask once more before he completely lost control.

  “Aye. ’Tis all I want. I stowed away because I want to be with ye.”

  “Do ye ken a child can be conceived?”

  She nodded. “Even if you spill outside? That’s what Garry did.”

  Good Lord, she’d seen it all. “Withdrawing helps, but there are no sure remedies. I want you to ken this afore we…”

  “I still want ye to…”

  “And the first time there’s pain.”

  “I am not afraid.”

  “After watching you climb the rigging I didn’t think you would be,” he growled against her ear. “Now let me take you to heaven.”

  He trailed kisses from her throat down to her breast and fondled her nipple with his tongue. Though small, her breasts fit perfectly in the cups of his palms. And he plied them as she writhed beneath him.

  “I cannot explain the need coiling tighter and tighter inside me. I feel as though I want to merge my body with yours and feel all of you. Especially. Ah!” she gasped as he moved his hand down to her nest of red curls and slid his finger into her parting.

  “Spread your knees for me, lass.”

  Sighing, Divana closed her eyes and opened like an orchid displaying her sacred beauty. He worked slick moisture around her tiny button, watching her face transform from tense to enchanted bliss. Only when she was breathless and rocking her hips did he slip his finger inside.

  She opened her eyes and pushed up. “Kennan!”

  “Lie back and close your eyes and dream of me entering you.”

  “A-are ye certain I’ll not explode like a cannon?”

  “Nay—but I promise the explosion will be worth it.”

  He stretched her with two fingers, then three. And finally he thrust with his fingers while lapping the swollen pebble that would send her over the edge.

  Divana shook her head from side to side, her hips churning with the rhythm of his fingers until all at once a gasp caught in her throat and she shattered, into dozens of tiny pulses.

  * * *

  If Kennan told Divana she had died and gone to heaven, she would have believed him. She ought to be embarrassed to her core, lying atop the bed without a stitch covering her. But nay. She felt like a queen, prostrate to her king and ready to give him anything he asked.

  As he drew back, his member tapped his belly.

  She might not know much about rutting, but he’d left something very important unfinished. “What about your pleasure?”

  He ran his fingers up her thighs. “Och, we’re nay finished. Not by half.”

  She started to turn and present her buttocks to him. “Of course.”

  “Stay.”

  “On me back?”

  “Aye, ’tis where I want you.”

  “But—”

  “You’re not swivving with Garry, you’re making…ah…love to me.”

  “Making love?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he glanced aside. “Aye, that’s what they call it when two people like each other.”

  “I see.”

  He shifted to her side and kissed her as his fingers began a magical dance, swirling around her breasts. “And afore we go any further, I aim to make you writhe with rapture.”

  “Again?”

  “Sh.”

  But this time as his hands explored her, Divana did some exploring of her own. She delighted in the sleek softness of his skin contrasting with the curls on his chest, and when he took her breast in his mouth, she teased his teat with thumb and forefinger. By his rumbling moan, he liked it.

  “Squeeze,” he said before his tongue swirled around her tender flesh.

  Divana reveled in the delight of his moan as she teased him. Next she trailed her fingers down his body and smoothed them over his triangle of tawny hair, just as he was doing to her. Oh, goodness, he was right. It was so much more invigorating to feel him—to watch the pleasure on his face. When he slid his finger lower—to the place where she didn’t even dare to touch—she bit her lip and stared at his member while her breath grew ragged.

  “Go on,” he said, his voice deep and raspy.

  With one finger she touched him, then gasped. “Tis rock hard, but soft as velvet.”

  He took her hand and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. “Grip it firm but do not squeeze, then slide up and down from root to tip.”

  “’Tis moist at the top.”

  He nuzzled her neck and slipped a finger inside her. “Because I want to be here.”

  Twice she’d tried to present her bum to him, and twice he’d indicated it was an indelicate position. What did he want? “Show me.”

  Chuckling, he moved between her thighs. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Hadn’t she been asking all along?

  “The question is,” he continued, rubbing his member along her slick channel, “how much do you want this?”

  She dug her fingers into his buttocks, arching up to him, needing more friction. “Ye ken how much I want ye…inside me.” Had those naughty words actually escaped her lips? Yes, she wanted him with every fiber of her body. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life, and by the way he was rubbing up and down, he’d soon be sending her over the edge just as he’d done with his tongue. “Please.”

  Suddenly, he entered her—but it wasn’t like his fingers. He more than filled her as she stretched to receive him. “See?” She panted. “’Tisn’t all that bad.”

  “But there’s a lot more to go.”

  “More?” she squeaked.

  “Are you ready?”

  She gripped him, arching her back. “I am.”

  And then he broke through. Hot pain seared inside her as she hissed and clenched her teeth.

  He held very still, his features stretched. “Does it hurt overmuch?”

  She moved her hips. “’Tis a good kind of pain.”

  “I’ll try to go slow.”

  He did at first, but even though there was pain, the need pulsing through her blood demanded a faster tempo. She writhed beneath him, gasping as she clung to his backside. His breathing sped with the cadence of his thrusts.

  “Come for me, Divana!”

  As she clung to him, the glorious wave
of passion took her to the stars for the second time that night. And with it came Kennan’s bellow. He withdrew and spilled onto her belly. Perspiration peppered his brow while he continued to pant, hovering above her.

  She gazed into those delicious green eyes. “That was astonishing.”

  “You are astonishing.” He nuzzled into her neck. “I’ve known it all along. I just have been afraid of hurting you.”

  “Because ye must…”

  He tapped her lips with his finger. “We are bonded now, you and I. Nothing else matters.”

  Oh, how his words warmed her.

  “How are you feeling? Are you sore?”

  “A little. ’Tis nay bad, though.”

  “I’m glad of it.” Grinning, he rolled to his side and cleaned her stomach with his shirt. “You must remember, lass. When the cabin door is unlocked, you are still Davy and I’m the captain. Nothing has changed as far as the crew is concerned. Ye ken?”

  Rather than respond, she kissed him. A great deal had changed. But Divana understood what he meant.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Divana stood in front of the mirror bolted to the wall above Kennan’s ornately carved trunk and tied her hair back with a leather thong, then donned her feathered cap. “Are ye looking forward to our arrival in Nassau?” By their heading, they were expected to reach the Bahamian island today if not on the morrow.

  “Indeed. I’ve waited a long time for this.”

  He moved behind her and trailed feathery kisses along her neck. Would the floating ever cease? She hoped not.

  “Do ye reckon Captain Vane will be there?”

  Kennan opened the trunk and retrieved his weapons. “’Tis a possibility.”

  “What if he’s not?”

  “Then we’ll resupply and move on.” He shoved his dirk into his belt. “Come, ’tis time for my morning inspection.”

  “And I’ll be in the crow’s nest today.”

  “Would you like me to assign someone else? This close to Nassau, there’s a chance we’ll meet with trouble.”

  “Would that not be preferential treatment?”

  Kennan’s gaze meandered down her body. “Are you growing accustomed to the height?”