by Mary Wine
She laughed.
And coughed.
But laughed more as she looked around the edge of the pool she’d landed in. Fate had delivered some kindness to her at last in the form of dumping her out of the center of the current. There was only a gentle pull on her skirts now, and most of it was from the weight of the water.
There was a large splash, one that sent a huge wave of water up into the air. It hit her in the face as she was swimming toward the shore. Brenda blinked the water from her eyes as her feet touched the ground at last. Looking back, she watched as Bothan broke the surface of the water with a snarl.
He’d jumped in after her.
She blinked, but he was still there, his large arms fighting against the water as he turned and looked around. He froze when their gazes meet.
“What sort of fool are ye to jump in after me?” she demanded.
A chill went down her back, and Brenda realized it had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.
He might have been killed.
“Ye jumped…first, woman,” Bothan replied as he swam toward her. “Ye cannae berate me for doing something ye did yerself without branding yerself a fool.”
Brenda realized there was no denying the truth of his words. Climbing out of the water took her full attention though, granting her a distraction. The rocks lining the pool were large and covered with slimy green algae. Her skirts were trailing too, the water making them impossibly heavy. She fought to make it to the shore as Bothan came out of the water with far more ease. He caught up to her and stepped past her to the shore, turning around to grasp her wrists and pull her the rest of the way.
“I did jump,” Brenda informed him. “And I’d do it again. Anything to keep Hamell Campbell from making a prize of me.”
The fact that she was drawing breath, when she’d fully expected not to be, was speeding through her veins like fire. Brenda should have been freezing, but she wasn’t.
In fact, she had never felt so alive.
Bothan was pulling his sword belt up and over his shoulder. He realized she hadn’t moved away from him, was in fact standing only a single pace from him as she propped her hands onto her hips and declared her opinion.
Their gazes locked, and the world shifted between them. She’d never felt such a connection or the need for it with another living soul. Moving away was impossible. His lips twitched up, flashing his teeth at her in the same arrogant grin he’d shown her the first time they’d met.
“Ye are just as brazen as the day I met ye.” Bothan dropped his sword belt. “’Tis the quality I like best about ye.”
She enjoyed his words.
They filled her head, burning though restraints she hadn’t realized were holding her back. What was unleashed was a desire so strong she didn’t even bother to question it. The reason was simple; she wasn’t thinking.
And Brenda decided she liked it a great deal.
She reached for Bothan, fighting to get the buckle on his belt open. The wet leather was slippery, but she grasped the end of the belt and pulled, feeling the buckle loosen as he cupped the sides of her face.
He raised her head up so their gazes met again while his kilt sagged to the ground in a wet heap.
“I want ye,” she muttered, delighted by how husky her voice was.
“Ye want to touch life,” he replied.
“Yes!” she insisted as she rose up on her toes to kiss him.
He met her halfway. It wasn’t a soft kiss now. Bothan took her mouth, and she did her best to claim him. Everything inside her was boiling. Containing it was impossible, and she didn’t want to, either. No, Brenda wanted him.
She’d never craved another man this way. She tore at his clothing, fighting to bare his skin. Having her skirts tossed wasn’t going to be enough. But she wasn’t willing to break off their kiss. So she kissed him as she tugged the lace free from where it was tucked into the front of her bodice. Popping the knot open, she drew the length of the cord from the eyelets.
Bothan pulled away from her so he could rip his shirt up and over his head. It landed with a wet sound somewhere behind him as he reached for her breasts.
“Christ, I’ve dreamed of seeing these…” Bothan cupped her breasts with only the thin layer of her smock between them.
She arched back, a little sound of delight coming from her lips. Bothan kneaded the soft mounds, sending another jolt of need through her. She fought with her waistband, opening it and tugging on the tie that held her hip roll in place. With a shove, Brenda sent the whole wet mess of her skirts down while Bothan pushed her open bodice over her shoulders and down her arms.
It left her in her smock. The fabric was soaked and sticking to her like a second skin. She stepped out of her puddled clothing, facing Bothan with a boldness many men wouldn’t approve of.
Let him see that she wanted him.
“Ye’re far more fetching than any dream, Brenda.” He moved toward her, catching the edge of her smock in his fingertips and drawing it up her body. For a moment, she couldn’t see him, but once she lifted her arms and he pulled her last garment free, she was staring up into his blue eyes.
The desire there stole her breath.
“And ye’re mine,” he rasped out before cupping the sides of her face in his large hands.
Bothan really was huge. Somehow, she forgot how much larger he was than herself when she was arguing with him. Now, as he kissed her, she felt the way he had to lean down to press his mouth against her. His shoulders were so wide and packed with hard muscle.
Brenda let out a little moan as she flattened her hands on his upper arms and stroked those ridges. He was hard, so much harder than herself. But his skin was smooth and warm.
And she craved it.
There was a burning hunger inside her that wanted more. More contact with his skin, more kisses, just more. She was twisting against him, trying to touch all of him as he did the same. His hands were in her hair and then sliding down her back to grip her bottom. A crazy jolt of need went through her as her clit seemed to awaken. The little pearl at the front of her slit began throbbing as she reached down and boldly grasped his member.
“Sweet Christ,” Bothan exclaimed as he arched his back. His neck was corded, and he grasped her hips as she drew her fingers along his length. Men liked to boast about the size of their members, but Bothan’s was thick and long.
And hard.
Her clit throbbed harder, the hunger gnawing at her insides rising to a fevered pitch. Waiting was impossible. She closed her hand tight around his girth and pumped it hard and quick. He jerked, growling as he returned his gaze to hers. There was a connection when their gazes met, one that shook her to her core. Brenda saw the flare in his eyes as his expression tightened and he drew his lips back from his teeth.
“Aye,” he growled as he gripped her hips once again. “Right now.”
Her heart was racing, but it accelerated as she heard him. She nodded as his eyes narrowed. “Right…now!” she insisted.
Bothan lifted her up and turned her so that her back was pressed hard against the flat face of a huge granite rock. Brenda locked her legs around him as the head of his cock slipped between the wet folds of her slit.
The first thrust was hard. Brenda felt her body being stretched, but there was something about the hard edge of the sensation that pleased her. She still felt like everything inside her was boiling, and she didn’t want to slow it down one bit.
No, she wanted to go faster.
Harder.
Deeper.
“Yes!” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders to anchor herself.
Bothan shuddered. Inside her, his cock twitched. But he was holding back, leaning his head away from her so he might see her face.
“I would…no’…hurt ye…Brenda…” He fought to speak through the hunger that had his n
ostrils flaring.
Brenda bared her teeth at him. “More!”
Bothan didn’t hesitate to act upon her command. He pressed her against the stone, gripping her bottom as he thrust into her body with hard, deep motions. She was completely at his mercy, and yet the hard ride was precisely what she craved. Every thrust connected with her clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of insanity.
She went eagerly into the vortex, crying out with the burst of pleasure. It was so bright, so hard, she dug her fingernails into Bothan’s shoulders without realizing. There was nothing but the pleasure. It was wringing her, twisting her into a tight, throbbing knot as Bothan hammered a few final thrusts into her and spilled his seed. She felt it coating her insides, shooting out of his member in hot spurts as the walls of her passage milked him for every last bit. Her heart was thumping so hard it was near to bursting, and she simply didn’t care.
Nothing mattered beyond the moment and the feeling of her lover against her.
* * *
“I see something!”
Brenda opened her eyes as she heard horses coming closer. Bothan cursed but stepped back enough so her legs could lower to the ground. Her wits were slow, but Bothan seemed more awake. He hesitated for only a moment to ensure she was steady on her feet before he was striding over to retrieve her smock.
The sun bathed every inch of his skin. Her cheeks heated as he turned, showing off his member.
“Do nae look like that, Brenda.” Bothan had made it back with her smock. “We’re married.”
She wanted to argue, but the horses were coming closer. Clothing herself had to take priority. She grasped her smock and went around the rock they’d been up against to find some privacy.
Bothan’s men arrived a moment later.
“Christ,” Maddox declared loudly. “I swear ye tested me faith, Chief.”
“Aye,” Bothan replied. “I am no’ sure why I’m alive, but I’m properly grateful. Keep the men away; me wife requires a moment of privacy.”
Maddox made a sound that sent Brenda’s temper flaring. Oh, she knew she was taking offense over something she’d gotten herself into, but that didn’t seem to stop her from snarling when Bothan appeared.
Her thick cloak was over his arm. He stopped before handing it to her as he heard her snarl.
“Ye are determined to be stubborn about our union,” he said in a tone that betrayed how irritating he found her attitude.
Brenda lifted her chin and shot him a hard look. “Oh…I see. Ye think because I am a woman, one encounter means I’m settled in.”
One side of his mouth twitched. A look glittered in his eyes, one that sent a warning through her.
“Don’t look at me like that, Bothan,” she warned as she grabbed her cloak and swung it around her shoulders. “I am no’ going to be yer plaything.”
The wool settled around her. In the next moment, she was pulled against Bothan’s hard body. He clamped her arms against her sides as she tried to escape, one of his large hands clasping the back of her head so she was completely his captive.
She gasped, stunned by just how easily he managed to subdue her. Her temper flickered, and then there was something else stirring deeper inside her belly. A response she detested because it was the opposite of what she’d decided she wanted to feel for him.
But the ache in her passage was confirmation of how conflicted she was.
“Be very sure of one matter,” he warned her in a husky tone. His eyes glittered with promise as his breath teased the sensitive surface of her lips. “I intend to enjoy ye and make very certain ye find pleasure in being had.”
He kissed her. A hard and demanding press of his mouth onto hers. There was no teasing motion from his lips, just the determination to press her to yield. She wanted to resist, but he held her head in position as he took her mouth. Whatever she might have decided she wanted died in a sizzle of rekindled passion. His kiss sent her insides twisting. An insane shaft of pleasure went through her, numbing her to logical reasoning and anything that didn’t include kissing him in return.
He lifted his head from hers a moment later, staring down into her eyes as she blinked and tried to decide why he’d stopped.
“Ye will be mine, Brenda.”
He left her with his words ringing in her ears. Her lips still tingled from his kiss, and her skin yearned to make contact with his. The world around her was cold without his embrace.
And all of it scared her nearly to death.
* * *
“Seems the pair of ye have settled matters between ye.” Maddox waited until after moonrise to voice what was on his mind.
Bothan tossed down a twig he’d been snapping into pieces. The fire they’d built and cooked over was out now, even the embers covered up to avoid any of the Campbells seeing the light if they still had a mind to fight.
“Naught is settled,” Bothan answered while scanning the area in front of him. Maddox was beside him, looking the opposite direction as they took the first round of watch. “However, I did nae expect a woman such as Brenda to accept me easily.”
“Glad to hear ye knew that little bit afore ye had us ride all the way to England for her,” Maddox responded. “That female is unbridled, and I do no’ mean it as an insult.”
Bothan didn’t answer. He was too easily angered when it came to the topic of his new wife. Trust took time to grow though, more time than he seemed to have the patience for.
But he felt the rise of heat in his loins as the memory of their encounter filled his mind. She craved him as much as he was drawn to her. Whatever was between them, it was stronger than either of their wills.
Caught between the intensity of the pull toward her and the frustration she left him with when she pushed him back, Bothan discovered himself contemplating the form of his wife where she was sleeping. She took to the road as well as he’d expected, pulling her arisaid up and over her head and settling down to sleep like any of his men.
Aye, she was well suited to him.
His life was a challenge. One many of the brides offered to him wouldn’t have faced with such ease. Hamell Campbell had best hope he never crossed Bothan’s path again because Bothan wasn’t giving Brenda up.
Ever.
* * *
“Ye are ignoring me,” Bothan accused the next night.
They’d stopped and built two fires. Several of the Gunn retainers had split off from their party early in the day, rejoining just before they stopped with a dozen rabbits. The game was cleaned and spitted by the entire group while they talked.
But the Gunn retainers kept their voices low.
Bothan had broken off, silently sneaking closer to Brenda. She jumped and looked up only to catch the look of approval in his eyes.
“I do nae think yer men would enjoy the presence of a female,” she replied.
Bothan lifted one shoulder in a shrug before he came closer. She shifted, responding to his nearness. It simply happened, and it earned her a narrowing of Bothan’s eyes.
“Ye crave me too,” Bothan told her bluntly. “And ye enjoyed being taken by me.”
Her cheeks heated in response. Their encounter was something she’d spent a great deal of time attempting to banish from her thoughts.
“Ye should have realized I am no’ adverse to passion,” she began, “after hearing I was Bhaic MacPherson’s mistress. There was no point in being in the man’s bed if I didn’t enjoy it.”
Bothan’s expression tightened. Guilt tried to stir in her, but she ignored it. Better to end his fascination with her now before she lost control again.
“A match between ye would have been something both yer fathers found acceptable,” Bothan said. “But then again, ye made certain to blacken yer name by openly being the man’s mistress instead of having yer father attempt to negotiate a contract between ye.”
Brenda knew it.
“In fact,” Bothan continued as he came closer and his voice dropped, “as I understand the matter, ye made sure the MacPhersons saw ye. Bhaic would no’ have darkened yer name by parading ye about.”
Their gazes met. For a moment, she caught a look at the raw determination in Bothan’s gaze.
“I did,” Brenda replied. “Because I was not going to have me father make another match for me.”
“Not even with a man you found pleasing in bed?” Bothan asked.
“I will not be owned,” Brenda insisted. “Never again will I be chattel.”
She’d never meant anything more in her life. Part of her lamented just what she’d done to ensure her father couldn’t make her a match, because a man like Bothan had pride.
“I am not the right woman for you, Bothan.” She forced the words out. “When we pass Grant land, ye should leave me and annul the marriage.”
“Ye appear to not understand me at all,” Bothan whispered. There was a note in his tone that sent a shudder down her back. She searched his eyes, seeking to understand just what it was that caused her hairs to feel as though they were standing on end.
“I would no’ have come for ye if I was the sort of man who gave up,” Bothan warned her. “Ye will be mine.”
His tone rung with a promise that made her recoil.
“So…ye simply plan to claim me?” Brenda demanded. “With no regard for what yer people will say?”
Bothan sent her a look that made it plain he was thinking her question through. She felt her insides tighten in response. Perhaps she should have kept her mouth shut, held her tongue instead of giving him any ideas.
Perhaps ye want him to take the matter out of yer hands…
“My people will say ye have passion in ye,” Bothan answered her after a moment. “A passion to match me own.”
“I do nae wish to hear of yer conquests.” The words were past her lips before she realized she was exposing herself.
Bothan flashed her a smile. “Ye sound jealous, Brenda. Do ye no’ care for the feeling ye were so intent on filling me with?”