by Lynsay Sands
Dwyn didn’t stroke him. He doubted she knew to do that, but she squeezed and growled, “Then do it, husband.”
A smile slid over Geordie’s lips as he realized she’d called him husband, but then she squeezed him more firmly, and added, “I’m aching and need ye.”
“Christ, woman,” he growled, retrieving his hand from between her legs, and knocking her hand away from his erection before slipping both hands under her behind and lifting her off the table. “Thank God I met ye before Rory or Alick did.”
“It would no’ have mattered,” Dwyn assured him, wrapping her legs around his hips, and tightening them until he was rubbing against her with every step as he started to walk back to the bed.
“How do ye ken? Ye might have fallen for one o’ them,” he said, hoping she’d assure him otherwise. And she did.
“Nay,” she said firmly. “I do no’ look at them and want to see their pillicock.”
Laughter bursting from his lips, Geordie tumbled onto the bed with her, and then raised his head to watch her face as he entered her. Dwyn groaned, her body stretching under his, head going back and eyes closing, only to open again when he remained planted deep inside her, but not moving. When she raised wide, questioning eyes to him, he smiled and said, “Oddly enough, wife. Neither do I.”
Dwyn blinked, slow to realize that he was talking about not wanting to see his brothers’ pillicocks when he looked at them, and then she burst out laughing too. Smiling, Geordie began to move then, his gaze sliding over his wee wife as he thrust into her. She was right where he’d wanted her, naked and laughing in his bed. His wife. Damn. All was right with the world.
Dwyn ran one hand lightly down Geordie’s chest, watching his face for any reaction. A sigh slid from the depths of her body when she got none. He had fallen fast asleep the moment he’d finished loving her the second time after carrying her to the bed from the table. Or was it the third? She wondered over that briefly, but wasn’t sure. All she knew was that he’d fallen dead asleep and she was lying here wide awake and restless. But he did look tired, she thought guiltily. Perhaps it took more out of the man to mate. Mayhap he poured all his energy into the woman along with his seed, and that was why she was so energetic while he was sleeping like the dead.
Sighing, Dwyn rolled away from him onto her back, and stared up at the royal blue bed drapes briefly, but then frowned as she became aware of another need that wanted tending. Grimacing, she glanced to Geordie and then sat up and glanced around. Her wrinkled gown was lying on the floor by the tub, as was one of her slippers, but the other slipper was next to the bed, she saw. It was for the wrong foot, but . . .
Shrugging, she leaned off the bed to scoop it up, and pulled it onto her left foot. It didn’t feel quite right, but it was a soft slipper and would do, she decided, and then crawled to the end of the bed and along to the bottom corner closest to the door. Once there, she slid her leg down and got carefully to her foot. She then took a hop, grimacing at the noise she made. Pausing, she glanced back to the bed, but Geordie hadn’t stirred. Letting out a relieved breath, she turned forward and took several hops this time, her hands out and pinwheeling for balance. She’d meant to just take three or four hops and stop to look around and check on Geordie again, but was afraid she’d lose her balance and fall so continued forward, picking up pace as she went in an effort to keep from tumbling forward. Even so she was a couple feet from her chest against the wall holding the door when she did tumble forward.
Fortunately, Dwyn was close enough to catch herself on the edge of the chest. Holding on to it, her body like a board leaning against a low wall, she glanced back to the bed to be sure Geordie still slept, then dragged herself forward to sit on the chest. Dwyn took a minute to regroup then, but finally heaved herself back to her foot and opened the chest.
The gown on top was a royal blue color, much like the drapes of Geordie’s bed. Smiling, she pulled it out, and then grabbed a shift, closed the chest lid and sat on it to draw her naked foot up onto the chest with her so she didn’t accidentally set it in the rushes. Dwyn then set the dress next to her and quickly dragged her shift on. Her sisters had lowered the neckline on her shifts so that she could wear them under the dresses with the lower necklines, but the rose gown was so low she hadn’t been able to wear a shift under it. She was hoping to have better luck with the blue.
Finished with the shift, she shook out her dress in front of her, and then found the bottom and began to drag it over her head. Normally, she would have stepped into it, but she wasn’t trying that on one foot. Tugging it into place so that it gathered on top of the chest behind her and dropped to cover her legs in front, she quickly did up the lacings and then peered down at herself. A thin line of her shift showed, but she pushed that down under the neckline of the gown, and then stood on her foot and looked down again.
“Good enough,” Dwyn muttered, and then realized she’d spoken aloud and glanced toward the bed. Geordie hadn’t moved.
Relaxing, she hopped the couple of feet to the door, one hand against the wall to balance herself as she went, and then opened it and hopped out. Much to her relief, the hall was empty. She could hear talking and laughing from below stairs and supposed everyone was still down at the tables. That made her wonder what time it was, but it was hard to tell. She didn’t even know what time it had been when she’d woken up the first time to find herself fully clothed in Geordie’s arms. If she had to guess, she would have said she thought it had been mid- to late afternoon. The sun had still been up and shining brightly then, and was still up now. Not fully though; while there had been enough light coming through the window to see around the room, it had been the dimmer light of a setting sun. So, she supposed it was probably time for the sup, or shortly after it.
Knowing that was as close as she was going to get to figuring it out on her own, she turned and hopped up the hall to the garderobe, using one hand on the wall to steady herself as she went. Much to her relief, she made it there without encountering anyone or falling over, and then hopped inside to tend to matters. She had come back out and paused by the door to carefully examine the floor to be sure there was nothing that might cut through her slipper or otherwise hurt her when she heard movement ahead of her. Raising her head, she spotted Geordie’s brother Aulay even as he spotted her.
“Dwyn,” he said sharply, and moved quickly toward her, a scowl twisting his scar so that he looked quite ferocious. “What are ye doing out here by yerself, lass?”
“I had to use the garderobe,” she said with an exasperation that was as much at herself for the sudden fear his angry face caused in her, as at him for being short with her.
“Yer foot is no’ bandaged,” he pointed out in a growl.
“Nay, but I—”
“And where the hell is Geordie?” Aulay snarled with annoyance, scooping her off her feet without warning.
“He’s sleeping, but—”
“Sleeping!” he barked. “Well, I shall wake him up, and—”
“Ye will no’!” she snapped, and when he stopped walking to look down at her with amazement, she warned, “M’laird, do ye no’ stop snarling and growling at me like a vicious dog and start listening, I shall do what I do with me Angus and Barra, and put ye on yer side with me teeth at yer throat.”
“Now, I should like to see that.”
Dwyn glanced up the hall at those amused words and flushed as she watched Jetta walk toward them from the stairs. Sighing, she shook her head. “I am sorry. I should no’ have lost me temper like that,” she said to them both, and then turned to peer up at Aulay and added, “But ye should no’ be angry at Geordie. I did no’ wake him. Had I, I’ve no doubt he would ha’e bandaged me up and carried me to the garderobe. And I do no’ want ye to wake him now, because I was rather hoping to speak to ye and me father together anyway, and without him there. I suspect he would interfere if he was awake.”
“Ah,” Jetta said with understanding, and then glanced to her husband. “Shoul
d I go fetch her father?”
Aulay was silent for a minute, and then let his breath out and relaxed. “Aye. And Rory too, please, wife. Send them to me study. I shall take Dwyn there. Rory can bandage her foot ere we talk.”
Jetta nodded, and then offered her a reassuring smile before turning to hurry to the stairs.
“Who are Angus and Barra?”
Dwyn tore her gaze away from the departing woman, and met Aulay’s curious gaze. Grimacing then, she admitted, “Me dogs. They’re huge beasts. Deerhound and boarhound mix.”
His eyebrows rose at that, and then he started to walk and asked with amusement, “Do ye really put them on their sides and bite their necks?”
“Aye,” she admitted, and then explained, “They did no’ like to listen much when they were young, at least no’ to me. But they always obeyed their mother, and she used to grab them by the throat and force them to the ground when they misbehaved. I knew they were going to be big dogs, and I’d best get them used to listening to me while still small enough I could handle them, so one day when Angus was being difficult, I grabbed his legs, whipped them out from under him so he landed on his side and then leaned over him and bit his neck. Not hard,” Dwyn added quickly, lest Aulay think her mean. “I just closed my teeth on him firmly, so he knew they were there. He stopped moving at once, but I waited until he relaxed and submitted as he did with his mother, and then let him up.”
“And it worked?” he asked with interest.
“Oh, aye,” she assured him. “Surprisingly well. He started obeying me at once like his mother. So I did it to Barra the very next time he would no’ listen to me and they both became very good dogs.” Dwyn paused briefly, and then admitted, “I do have to pull them to the ground and bite their necks again on occasion when they get rambunctious. But that’s only about once every six months or so now. Thank goodness,” she added with a wry smile. “Because they each weigh more than I do and, do ye stretch them out, are probably taller than me too. But they’re very obedient pups for the most part.”
“Pups?” he asked dubiously.
“They’re not quite three years old now,” she said.
“Hmm,” Aulay murmured, and then asked, “And is that how ye brought Geordie to heel?”
“Nay, o’ course no’! I—” Dwyn paused abruptly when she saw the sparkle in his eyes. Clucking her tongue, she said, “Ye were teasing.”
“Aye,” he said gently. “And I do no’ think ye’d have tried it with me either.”
“Nay,” she admitted. “But it has proven a very effective threat with Aileen and Una. I just used it with you out o’ habit.”
“Surely yer sisters do no’ really believe ye’d do such a thing to them, do they?” Aulay asked with disbelief, pausing in front of the door to his study.
“I do no’ think they’re quite sure whether I would, or would no’,” Dwyn admitted as she reached out to open the door for him. When she looked back to see his doubting expression, she smiled faintly and said, “Ye’d understand did ye see the size o’ Angus’s and Barra’s teeth. Me sisters canno’ believe I put me face that close to their mouths without fear, so are no’ sure what else I might do.”
Aulay chuckled at that and carried her into his study.
Chapter 11
Geordie stirred sleepily, and turned on his side to wrap his arm around Dwyn, but blinked his eyes open when he found only empty bed. Frowning, he rolled onto his back and looked to the other side of the bed, but she was not there either. That realization had him jerking upright to quickly scan the room. Dwyn was not there.
Panic clutched at him at once. While Catriona and Sasha had been sent away, and they all hoped that would bring an end to the attacks on Dwyn, they couldn’t be positive it would since they had no proof the two women were behind the broken glass and poison. Aulay had offered to put guards on Dwyn for the rest of her stay there, but Geordie had assured him that would not be necessary. He would stay by her side every moment of every day while she was here, and even after, once they left for Innes. Yet, here it was, not even twenty-four hours later, and he’d already lost her.
Cursing under his breath, Geordie scrambled off the bed and rushed out into the hall. When Aulay barked his name, he glanced over his shoulder, mouth open to explain that he’d lost Dwyn, but he whirled toward them when he saw her in his brother’s arms. Her father was behind and to the side of them, he saw, eyeing him with raised brows.
Ignoring both men, Geordie sighed her name with relief and rushed toward them, asking, “What are ye doing up, lass? Why did ye no’ wake me?”
“Perhaps she was scared off by that monster between yer legs, brother,” Aulay said dryly, and then added with exasperation, “Could ye no’ have at least grabbed yer plaid on the way out the door?”
Geordie ignored that too. He had eyes only for Dwyn, who was staring at his erection with a concern he didn’t understand, until she asked worriedly, “Did ye damage yerself, husband? There’s blood on yer pillicock.”
Geordie glanced down at the dried blood on his cock, and almost laughed aloud. It was her blood from the breaching, and while he would have expected it to have been removed the second or third or even the fourth time he’d loved her, it had apparently merely mixed with their juices and dried on him all over again after each use. Or perhaps she’d continued to bleed after the breaching, he thought with a frown. It was possible. She had assured him she was not feeling any pain, but perhaps they shouldn’t have been so enthusiastic and vigorous after the breaching. The thought made his erection begin to wane.
“Geordie?” Dwyn asked, real worry in her voice now.
Sighing, he raised his head, and offered a reassuring smile as he took her from his brother. “Nay. I’m no’ hurt. The blood is yers, lass. The proof o’ yer innocence.”
“Oh.” She flushed a bit at that, but then rolled her eyes. Whether it was from exasperation with herself for not realizing the source of the blood on her own, or because of the pinch of embarrassment she was now feeling as her father and Aulay saw the proof that he’d breached her, Geordie didn’t know. He merely squeezed her affectionately, and kissed her nose, before demanding firmly, “Now, what were ye doing out here? And why did ye no’ wake me up ere ye left the room?”
“I had to go to the garderobe and ye were sleeping so soundly I did no’ wish to disturb ye,” Dwyn said quietly.
“The garderobe is the other way,” he pointed out dryly.
“I spotted her coming out of the garderobe, realized she was hopping around without her foot bandaged and had Rory come up to me study to bandage her up,” Aulay said before she could respond. When Geordie glanced to him, he added, “And then her father and I lectured her on leaving the room again without someone to accompany her until we are sure the attacks on her person have ended. She will no’ be hopping around without ye again. Will ye, Dwyn?” he added sternly.
Dwyn didn’t seem at all upset by his brother’s lecture, Geordie noted. In fact, she seemed more amused than anything, though she did promise, “I shall no’ hop around alone.”
“Well, then,” Laird Innes said brightly. “Now that’s settled, I guess we should leave these two to . . . er . . . Good sleep,” he said abruptly, and turned to head for the stairs.
When Geordie raised his eyebrows at the man’s odd behavior, Aulay said dryly, “I believe Laird Innes is a bit uncomfortable having his daughter’s handfasted husband waving his manhood around quite so boldly. Especially with his daughter’s blood on it. Speaking o’ which, the sup has been over fer a while, and the women shall soon be retiring. Ye may want to take that—” he nodded toward Geordie’s groin “—and yer wife back to yer room ere ye scandalize the lasses.”
Grunting at the suggestion, Geordie turned and carried Dwyn back up the hall toward his room.
“Good sleep,” Aulay called after them with amusement.
“Aye,” Geordie called. “Good sleep to ye too.”
“I am no’ like to sleep this night,
m’laird,” Dwyn said apologetically as he carried her back through the door he’d left open.
“Nay,” he agreed wryly, kicking the door closed. “After sleeping the day away, and then the short nap I had after bedding ye, I’m no’ likely to sleep this night either.”
“It was an hour at least. More like two,” she corrected.
“What was?” Geordie asked with confusion.
“Yer nap after ye bedded me,” she explained.
“Aulay and yer father were lecturing ye for two hours?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
“Well, I did no’ leave the room right away, and I had to dress first, and then hop there and then Rory bound me foot again and . . .” She shrugged. “But I’m sure ye slept for a couple hours at least.”
Geordie groaned at this news and sat on the end of the bed with her in his lap. “I will definitely no’ be sleeping tonight, then.”
“Nay,” Dwyn agreed, and said apologetically, “And I fear I’m hungry and thirsty.”
“So am I,” he said, his gaze dropping to her breasts.
Dwyn chuckled at his expression, and leaned up to kiss him lightly on the cheek, but said, “For food, m’laird. I will be more than pleased to address the other hunger after that, but first I must eat. And I fear do we no’ go down soon, we will no’ be going. Once everyone lies down for the night, we’ll no’ be able to get to the kitchens,” she pointed out solemnly.
Geordie frowned at that observation, knowing she was right. Once the castle settled for the night, they would be stuck above stairs, unable to fetch more food or drink later did they desire it. Considering his new wife’s appetite for loving, he suspected he’d want food at least twice this night to keep up his strength, and he’d definitely have to replenish his fluids at least that many times too. Remaining in the room was not looking very attractive with those concerns on his mind.
Standing abruptly, Geordie turned and set her on the bed and then moved to gather his shirt from the floor next to the tub. As he donned it, he asked, “Would ye like to see the waterfall I mentioned?”