Sleepless Night: A Highlander Time Travel

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by Vanessa Vale


  "Don't stop, Lady MacInnes," Ian said. He was standing before me and I'd missed his return.

  I dropped my hands, embarrassed at being caught. God, what must he think of me? Had the crowd seen me? A hot flush crept up my cheeks, but based on the way his lids were half lowered, his gaze filled with a banked passion, he was not the least bit bothered by my wantonness.

  God, he was handsome. Stunning. The exact vision of my Highlander hottie. Was this why I'd always been drawn to them? Was it because my mate had been a Highlander in the past? Er, now? I was in the past. Or, the present was the past and I was from the future. Ugh.

  Regardless, he was mine for the night. Forever, if the old woman was correct. It was as if I actually had stepped into some kind of romance novel. What would the girls think? They'd all like the corsets.

  "You shouldna married her."

  The woman's voice had Ian turning.

  "Glynnis," he said, his voice full of warning.

  "You shouldna," she repeated, stepping closer. Too close. In fact, she went right up to Ian and wrapped her hands around his arm as if she were holding on for dear life. No, she was rubbing her very large breasts against him. I narrowed my eyes at her blatant display. "She's nay one of us."

  I cleared my throat and while the woman looked at me, she didn't release my husband, only gave me a very knowing, very fuck you kind of smile.

  Ian pried himself out of the woman's gripping talons.

  "She's not English, lass. She's a Scot through and through."

  I wasn't overly familiar with my Scottish history, but I did know that the English crushed the clans in horrible battles and other cruel acts.

  If she were comparing me to the English, she certainly thought the worst of me. The bitch was actually lovely. Blonde hair hung long down her back almost to her waist, a color I knew—even if hair dye hadn't been invented yet—was natural. Most women would kill for that shade. She had blue eyes, but now they were narrowed and gazing at me with anger and hatred. Did I know her? Had I ever slapped her before? Because she was deserving of one now.

  "And why is that?" Ian asked. He took my elbow in his large grasp and pulled me into his side. While I could hear the sharp bite in his voice, his touch was gentle. His thumb even caressed the crook of my arm. Was this a reassuring gesture for him or for me?

  Glancing left and right, she took a step closer, but Ian held up his hand to stop her. "Ye dinna want everyone to hear of her fornicating ways."

  The room had gone quiet, much easier that way to listen in on our conversation. Surely they all knew the players here and would feed off of a wedding day catfight for years.

  Fornicating ways? She was calling me a slut! Oh God. What had I done before I married Ian? Had I slept with his brother or something? Oh shit, had I slept with Glynnis? I bit my lip at the idea, but I had to assume that since I didn't swing that way in the future, that I hadn't in previous lives either.

  "Fornicating ways?" Ian glanced down at me. "She was married to Duncan nigh on two years. Explain yourself, lass."

  Instead of saying more, Glynnis reached into a hidden pocket in her dress and pulled out a small object that looked like a white hot dog. I didn't have time to consider the fact that I'd been married to some guy named Duncan when Ian took the hot dog from her. It wasn't that he'd taken it from her, but the way he'd all but yanked it from her grasp and stuck it into his kilt. Did he have a pocket in there, too?

  "Dinna ye want to know how she used that?" Glynnis asked. I felt like I was back in high school and Glynnis was a cruel cheerleader. "I was supposed to be yours, Ian. I'm pure. I'm a MacInnes." Her eyes all but pleaded with Ian, then she looked to me. As if I were road kill. "She willna make ye happy like I can."

  "Is there a problem here, laird?" A big, burly man came to stand beside Glynnis, interrupting her. "Why are ye not off tupping that bride of yours? Dinna worry for the English this night."

  "Hello, Ronald. It seems that Glynnis was offering her good tidings on my marriage."

  Good tidings? Good tidings? That woman had the look of a beauty queen but clearly had the heart of a sociopath. She gave me the creeps, and I was definitely a little worried.

  Ian's intense gaze held Glynnis in thrall, but she slowly dropped her brash sway for curled shoulders. She glanced away and I could see a blush creep into her pale cheeks as she realized that Ian wasn't planning on dumping me and running off with her. I doubted the truth of her actions when I saw a small smirk play about her lips. She was an incredible actress.

  "That was verra kind of her," Ronald added, and I could tell he had a sense of the unsaid words.

  "Now that she's done that, I will be claiming my bride." He glanced from me to Ronald. "Glynnis needs a husband. As her uncle and guardian, I suggest you find one for her before I do."

  The man's bushy eyebrows went up before looking down at Glynnis. "So that's the way of it then. Aye, laird. Seamus McClellan has been sniffing after her. Perhaps it's time for the banns."

  Glynnis' mouth fell open. "Seamus? Are ye daft? He says he'll take me o'er his knee!"

  "Aye, lass, perhaps that's just what ye need," Ronald replied.

  I tried to hide my smile at the look on Glynnis' face. It sounded like the shrew would be wed to a man who just might be able to control her. As long as he lived miles and miles away, I didn't care who she wed.

  "As for tupping my wife," Ian told the man. "Tis time."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lexy

  Before I knew it, Ian had tossed me up and over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. While there wasn't a fire, I did sense an eagerness in him. A roar of shouts and cheers—plus a mix of raunchy descriptions of fucking—filled the air. Ian carried me across the room and through a doorway. He used his foot to kick the door shut behind him. Carefully, he lowered me to the ground, my body sliding down every delicious inch of him. Keeping his hands on my waist, he let me get my balance.

  He didn't look angry at me, but I was too confused, too overwhelmed with just popping into my own wedding that I had no idea what to think.

  As he kept his eyes on me, Ian silently walked to a chair by the large stone fireplace and sat down. The room wasn't large and as it was situated just off the large main room, I had to guess it was an office or a meeting room of some kind. Perhaps a small dining room because there was a large wood table that took up most of the space. A fire was lit in the hearth, small flames licked at logs warming the entire room. It also cast a soft, warm glow to the room. One piece of kindling collapsed and sparks floated up into the air. Was it the fire or Ian's eyes on my body that heated me so? His gaze never wavered. My heart rate did. The way he was looking at me was as if he couldn't get enough. With the way his fingers clenched the wooden arms of the high backed chair, it was as if he was restraining himself. Like a predator waiting for the moment to attack.

  Yes, please. Attack! Attack!

  "I'm glad ye like pleasurin' yourself."

  I frowned in confusion.

  He dug into his kilt—which had ridden up and now showed off very nice knees—and held up the thing from Glynnis. I realized, upon staring at it that it wasn't a hot dog at all. Blushing, I wasn't sure if I was more embarrassed at thinking a dildo was a hot dog or having Ian think it was mine. It seemed it actually was.

  "Ian," I said, but nothing more. What was there to say? I looked everywhere but at my husband. Would he reject me now? Kick me out of this room and have the marriage annulled? It wasn't as if we'd had sex to consummate it. Had we? If I kept a dildo, it was definitely possible I'd already had sex with him. If this were modern times and per the girls lunch, I was allowed to jump him, no questions asked.

  "I told you to hide it well," he told me.

  My mouth fell open and my gaze lifted to his. There I only saw mirth, not disappointment.

  "But—"

  "Glynnis has wanted her sharp claws in me for a verra long time. She's known I was waiting for you. Hell, everyone in the clan knows I've been waiting fo
r you. She's a right bitch, that one. Her da will have her married off before the new moon."

  "She might have her claws in you, but she hates me."

  "Glynnis is nay my problem, thank Christ, nor yours. Don't worry about her tonight. Or anything else."

  "Like the English?" I asked.

  "Aye, I won't be thinking of England while I tup my bride." The corners of his mouth tipped up. He lifted the dildo up. "As for this rod, I told you to keep it a secret."

  He gave me that dildo? Crooking his finger, he beckoned me closer. I took the steps that separated us, stood between his spread legs.

  I couldn't let the niggling worry of Glynnis go. "Are you sure, because she seemed to want to climb you like a monkey," I countered.

  "A monkey?" His dark eyebrows went up at my word choice. I had to assume he had never seen one before, and I was well aware there weren't any indigenous to Scotland. Perhaps I should clarify.

  "She was all over you," I added.

  He nodded. "Aye, that woman has wanted me for a long time."

  I frowned. "I do not like that answer."

  He laughed, rich and deep. "Ah, lass. I like that you are jealous. She may have wanted me, but I am here with you."

  "You don't want her?"

  His mouth fell open as if he were surprised I even asked. "A shrew like that?"

  "Yes." I looked down at the floor, made of solid stone. A large rug covered the floor. A dark burgundy color, reminding me of the wine I'd drunk with my friends only a few hours before. "She is a very beautiful shrew."

  Ian sighed. "As I said, she is nay my problem. You are."

  I lifted my head and looked at him. "I'm… I'm a problem?"

  "When I gave you that ivory rod, you were to keep it well hidden."

  I had no idea if I'd hidden it well and Glynnis had rummaged around and discovered it, or if I left it out for anyone to find. Hell, I didn't even know if Glynnis was my friend, sister or enemy. Enemy, most likely and a woman scorned, based on the way she'd behaved.

  "I'm sorry," I replied.

  "Did you get to use it as I wanted?" His hands came to my hips, his thumbs stroking over my belly.

  "Um, yes?" Had I?

  His eyes widened a fraction and I saw lust there. Blatant lust.

  "She did not find the oil I gave you."

  Oil?

  "No." I agreed because I had no idea.

  "My cock is hard just thinking about you using the rod on yourself."

  The idea of him giving me a dildo so I could masturbate was pretty hot. Was it because we'd been engaged and it was like phone sex? So many questions.

  "I will watch how you used it after you receive your punishment."

  I tried to step back, but Ian kept a firm grip on my waist. I might have been sure Ian was the man for me, it didn't mean I wasn't a tad concerned about being punished. "Punishment? But why?"

  "I told you to keep it a secret. The rod was so you could prepare yourself for me. It wasna for Glynnis to find. It only made her shame your honor in front of the entire clan in the great hall."

  Yeah, the number of people who'd witnessed that embarrassing moment was astounding. That room could have held well over a hundred people. I hadn't had much time to count heads, but at least half that had been present and had learned that I had used a dildo on myself before marriage.

  His hands grabbed the fabric of my dress and started collecting it in his grip, pulling it up higher and higher, exposing my legs.

  "My honor is fine, Ian."

  He shook his head, a dark lock of hair falling over his forehead. "She insulted you, insinuated that your motives were not pure." The last word had a thick roll of the 'r'. "I gave you that rod. I haven't touched you, just as I promised. But knowing you were preparing yourself for me only makes what we have stronger, what we share tonight so much better." He growled when his hands cupped my bottom. Only a thin layer of underwear—what were they called, drawers?—separated my bare skin from his palms. "What we do together will ne'er be shared, Alexandra. Your body belongs to me. Your pleasure belongs to me. It isna for Glynnis or anyone else."

  I shook my head. "No, of course not."

  "Good." I was facedown over his lap before I could cry out in surprise. He'd kept my dress rucked up as he moved me and as I tried to rise, he brought his hand down on my bottom.

  "Ian!"

  "Shh, lass. What we do together is nay for anyone else. While all of them out there know we're going to fuck, I don't want them to hear it. The same is for your punishments."

  "Then don't spank me," I muttered.

  He laughed and gave my bottom a playful swat. Reaching around my waist, he tugged at the string on my underwear and worked it down over my hips so I was bare to his gaze. All mirth stopped, though, when he stroked his palm over my bottom.

  "You'll take your punishment like a good girl, then you'll show me how you played with that rod. I'm sure you were a very naughty lass."

  While his words were damn hot, I had to push him. Why? Because perhaps women in historic Scotland were like proverbial doormats, I wasn't. "Do you want me to be a good girl or a bad girl?"

  His hand came down on my butt and the crack of it was loud in the room.

  "Ow!" I said, trying to wriggle. He held me fast, even hooked his leg over mine to pin me in place. All I could see was his muscular calves and the dark hair on his legs. With another spank, I reached back to try and cover my bottom, more out of instinct than pain, and he took hold of my wrists in one hand.

  "You're both, Alexandra." I loved the way he said my full name. Surely he could see my wetness on my thighs. "You're a good girl in front of others, and you can be as dirty as you want when I'm fucking you."

  Spank. Spank.

  I cried out, for he wasn't being gentle, but I imagined it wasn't the hardest he could strike either. While it smarted and stung, it was more humiliating than wounding. In fact, the idea of being over Ian's thighs was surprisingly erotic. I'd never been spanked before, but it totally worked for me. I was into more than just insert Tab A into Slot B. I wanted play. I wanted kink. I wanted to be dominated, and Ian was sure as hell doing that.

  "Keep quiet, lass. Remember, only I get to hear you have your pleasure, whether it's from pain or sweet seduction."

  I moaned, albeit quietly. "More," I murmured.

  "You want more?" His hand stilled on my bottom, the hot flesh tingling against his palm. Slowly, his fingers slipped down to my pussy and slid through my folds. I was so wet I could hear it. "Ach, lass, you are a naughty thing."

  His spanking, while it struck everywhere across my bottom, not one spot left untouched, did not become harder. I slumped down over his thighs, giving over to his domination. There was no other word for it. I was pinned over his knees, my bottom raised, hands trapped behind my back. I couldn't move. I could only take what he wanted to give me. And I wanted this. Oh, man, did I ever.

  With one final stroke over my very red bottom—I couldn't see it, but I could feel how red it must be—he lifted me back up to stand before him, once again between his parted knees. My dress fell back to the floor.

  I was nervous and felt awkward. I'd just been thoroughly chastised by a spanking. What did one do after that? With my head dropped, I glanced up at him through lowered lashes. Although I had keen desire pumping thickly through my veins, this man was a stranger. A stranger who'd just spanked me and discovered that I got off on it. While he seemed to know me, I'd only been in his presence a matter of minutes. So while my body screamed yes, my mind was getting in the way. I wasn't one to sleep around, no matter how eager and horny I was. No matter how much I liked his personal brand of kink. I needed foreplay or something, and spanking wasn't enough.

  "I know ye are no a virgin, being married as ye were to Duncan for two years." The sarcasm and bitterness in his words were obvious. A frown marred his brow.

  It was the second mention of Duncan. I had no idea who he was besides having been my husband, nor what happened to him,
although I could easily assume he was dead since I was married once again. Divorce in Scotland some centuries past was certainly not considered. In this instance, it was fortunate I'd had some experience. Modern times Lexy was no virgin either. "Ian, I—"

  "Nay, lass. It was not your fault, and I don't blame ye. Your da was a bastard and married ye off to one. It is all in the past now. Finally." I wished I had some idea of what my previous husband had been like. It was obvious that Ian hated the man, hated my father as well, so perhaps it was better that I didn't know, since it seemed that time had been pretty miserable. He raked his gaze over my body as if I were a possession that he could finally claim as his. "Ye are mine now."

  Goosebumps broke out on my skin. Ye are mine now. I reveled in the caveman quality of those words. Belonging to Ian was definitely not a bad thing. Based on the look in his eye, the way his hands continued to grip the arms of the chair, it seemed he was holding himself back. It was as if he'd been waiting all his life for just this night. Just like me. I just hadn't imagined it would be in historic Scotland.

  "Duncan told me ye were a frigid bitch." His voice was a dark growl.

  The words were like a slap to the face. I straightened my spine and stepped back, offended.

  "Nay, don't worry." He held up a big hand. "As I said, he was a bloody bastard. He didn't take care of you or your needs. Remember the time his eye was blackened?"

 

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