My Cursed Highlander

by Kimberly Killion

  “Agnès assisted me.”

  He damned this Agnès for her interference and fumbled over the ribbing tapered down the front of Viviana’s waist. ‘Twas nearly impossible to focus on his task with his wife’s creamy globes staring him in the face. He twirled her again, and then again, searching for tiny buttons, or clasps, or hooks.

  “Damn-it-to-Hell!” Frustration mounted, calling to the beast inside him. He unsheathed a small blade from his boot and placed the sharp tip at the bottom of the contraption.

  Viviana stiffened. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m setting ye free.” With a quick snip, he cut the seam, tossed his blade on the nearby bed, then finished tearing through her garment. He felt like a wild animal in heat and that was exactly how she looked at him.

  “I’m certain that was a very expensive garment. It was made of whalebone.”

  This was not going at all how he expected. He needed a drink, something stronger than watered wine. He’d lost total control of his senses and feared if he didn’t cool his desires, he would ravish her, willing or not. Mayhap he would take a swim in the icy Lake Geneva. He turned and strode toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  His hand stilled on the lever, his forehead pressed against the wood. Somewhere in the corridor a door clipped shut. He searched for the controlled warrior inside him, but that man was buried deep behind his lust. “I want ye so bad I fear I cannae control myself.”

  “Please, do not leave. Please, Taveon. It is my fault.”

  He looked in the mirror and watched her jump when the fire cracked beside her. Her hands twisted in front of her as if waiting for a punishment. He pivoted on his heel. “What do ye mean, ‘tis your fault?”

  “Agnès said I should make you work for the privilege to touch me. Said that I should reveal myself to you slowly so you might savor me.”

  A heavy scowl weighed his face down. “Did she now? I find it hard to believe ye would speak of such personal matters with a matron ye met just this day.”

  Viviana blushed and directed her gaze toward the floor. “She helped prepare me and we became quite… close.”

  Taveon walked slowly toward her, somehow angered by her words. He backed her up with only his heated breaths until the back of her knees touched the edge of the settee. “I earned the privilege to touch ye when we spoke our vows. A privilege I have not acted on until now.”

  Her head rose, her purple eyes flashed, but she held tight to her tongue. Was the look on her face anger or fear?

  He held no desire to quarrel with his wife. Either she would accept him in her bed or not. With the nail of one finger, he traced the underside of her breast through the linen. “I willnae force myself on ye. Tell me to leave and I will go.”

  Viviana pulled the side of her lip between her teeth and untied the single bow of her undertunic. “I want you to stay, and I want you to touch me.”

  Before her last words left her mouth, Taveon acted. He pushed her onto the settee, dropped a knee between her legs, and crushed his mouth to hers. Without gentleness or ease, he pushed her undertunic to her waist, cupped her bare breast in his hand, and pinched the already hard nipple.

  She arched her back and cried out. Her hands shadowed his over her breasts, showing him how she liked to be touched. Surprisingly, she did not seek his gentleness, but squeezed with a roughness he was most eager to provide.

  The amulet lying against her chest reminded him of why he’d chosen to make love to her in this chamber. He tilted his head and watched his reflection play over her breasts, teasing, titillating, rolling the nipples in unison, then he wrapped an arm around her back and feasted on her favors, tugging the taut peaks one at a time deep into his mouth.

  She whimpered, pulled his hair, and rubbed herself against his knee. The vixen was every bit as aroused as he. He could smell it—a musky, feminine bouquet that wafted up between them. If her scent didn’t expose her desire, then the heat between her legs did.

  He curled his hand around her ankle, her calf, the outside of her thigh.

  ‘Twas smooth.

  He caressed her other leg. Not a single hair tickled his palm. He grabbed the hem of her undertunic and with her assistance, discarded it over her head.

  He slipped to the floor between her knees. His gaze fell below her navel where a bold beauty mark led him to her mons—her hairless mons. “Shite, woman! What in the name of Zeus have ye done to your nock?”

  A fierce red tinted her skin. “I depilated.”

  “Dipple-what?” he asked, having never heard the word.

  Her hands flew to cup her mound and hide the flesh he was most eager to inspect. “Tell me your women do this.”

  “Nay. They do not.” He removed her hands and slid the tips of two fingers over petal soft lips—lips as velvety as the ones on her face. “But I think mayhap they should.” Without a moment’s thought, he leaned forward and dragged the flat of his tongue over his skin.

  She gasped.

  “‘Tis magnificent.” He licked her again, exploring the smooth texture. His cock jerked and a small burst of semen spilled out.

  “What are you doing?” She shimmied back on the settee.

  “I’m savoring ye.” He glanced up at her. Violet irises swam in a sea of white. “Was there another reason ye would have prepared yourself in such a manner?”

  “I did it to ease your entry, not so you could, could…”

  “Dine on ye?” he supplied for her. From the look of horror wrinkling her sweet brow, he suspected she’d never known a man’s kiss in such a private place.

  Her husbands were fools and he was glad. Proud to be the first man to introduce her to such intimacy, he pulled her to the edge of the settee by her hips and spread her legs wide enough to reveal twin beauty marks on the inside of her left thigh. He swallowed.

  “Taveon, wait—”

  “Shush, wife. I’m about to pleasure ye in a way ye will find most enjoyable.” And with these words he slipped his tongue into the folds of her womanhood.

  She swelled almost instantly. “Oh, cazzo!”

  He drew one pillowed lip into his mouth, then the other, and it was the most erotic kiss he’d ever known.

  He slipped in a finger and flicked the sensitive pearl of flesh deep inside her. She panted and squeezed her breasts, pinching the nipples hard. Her inner walls sucked at his finger, then her own hand snuck into play, circling the tiny nubbin hidden at the peak of her slit.

  Most men wanted virgins in their marriage beds, but Taveon realized the last thing he wanted was a skittish doe. While Viviana was innocent of some things, the woman knew her body. She knew where she wanted to be touched and didn’t shy away from showing him exactly where that magic place was.

  He pushed her hand away, pulled her lips apart with his thumbs, and drew her most sensitive spot between his teeth.

  “Oh, Taveon.” She pulled his hair, needing something to hold onto. What he was doing was wicked, but she lacked any ability to stop him. The visions in her head only heightened her desire. Her swollen pink flesh glistened with need and fluttered every time his tongue made contact.

  She’d known the craving of arousal, as well as the disappointment of never reaching that pinnacle, lest it was by her own hand. It was certainly different with Taveon. Being able to watch her husband pleasure her was a wonder—a sensual phenomenon only the amulet and its power could provide her. Hues of gray changed to hues of purple, then a chaos of colors exploded in her head.

  He drew her to the edge, then eased back, torturing her with his tongue. Then finally she found that edge again and fell into a place of pure bliss. A place of light and color. A place so warm and inviting she wanted to stay forever.

  She did not cry out when her inner walls fluttered again and again. She gently stroked his hair, holding him between her legs, letting him savor her, cherish her.

  “Sweet Venus. Sweet, sweet, Venus,” Taveon whispered against her tingling mons and drank in the n
ectar of her climax, then he crawled up her body and kissed her, sharing the taste with her—a taste that was sweet and salty combined.

  She didn’t shy away from his kiss, in fact she found it stimulating. She wove her fingers into his nape and returned his kiss with fervor.

  “That is the taste of your desire for me,” he whispered, then he was gone, casting her in temporary darkness. One boot hit the floor, then the other, followed by a rustling of garments. Before anticipation had the opportunity to build, he pulled her off the settee and set her on limp legs while he took her place.

  He gripped her around her waist and sat her on his lap, forcing her knees to hug his hips. Instead of slamming her directly atop his erection, he gently circled her sensitive lips with his fingertips, preparing her for what was to come.

  “I need ye.” His voice was laden with pain.

  His gaze fixed on her face, but she didn’t want to see herself. “I want to see you.”

  He looked between their bodies where his cock touched the spattering of hair just beneath his naval.

  Mannaggia! He was big.

  Fear and excitement rushed through her like fire in a wind storm. She didn’t know if she could take all of him, but was willing to try. Timid fingers curled around his circumference and stroked him from root to tip.

  Air hissed between his teeth. “Please, Venus. No more play.”

  She rose up on bent knees and slipped the head of his cock into her wet canal. She whimpered, panted, then held on to his shoulders and lowered herself a little more. The feel of him inside her was wonderful, satisfying… “Oh, cazzo!”

  He moaned, a deep throaty sound that laced her skin with gooseflesh.

  “Find your ease, husband.” She wanted him to experience the same pleasure he’d given her and moved up and down his shaft in long draws. His size filled her completely, and with every lunge she took more of him until she felt the press of his arousal against the wall of her womb.

  “Dinnae stop.” He kissed her breast, then sat up taller on the settee and looked over her shoulder. As if she were a spectator, she watched herself make love to him in the looking glass. Mayhap it was the moment, mayhap it was the uniqueness of the chamber or the magic of the amulet, but she’d never witnessed anything more beautiful.

  “Ye are beautiful,” he said, as if they now shared thoughts as well as eyes. His hands followed the curve of her waist over her hips and around her buttocks. He assisted her with the movement, sliding in and out, in and out. Every thrust was more exquisite than the last, until the muscles inside her gripped him with astonishing strength.

  “Oh, God!” He brought her hips down and held her there.

  Blackness.

  No! “Open your eyes.” She hugged him, wanting to see his face when he found fulfillment.

  The haze cleared the same time the heat of his seed pulsed against her womb. She held tight as an unexpected orgasm shot through her. The chamber exploded with colors she hadn’t seen since her childhood. A yellow and orange fire blazed in multiple mirrors, casting a golden hue over their embraced bodies. The intensity was surreal—the colors, the sensations, the emotions.

  She found his gaze through the looking glass.

  “Your eyes,” she said in a moment of clarity, a moment when at last she was blessed to gaze upon the brilliance of a color she’d only seen in her dreams, a color so rich in hue she wanted to cry. “They’re blue.”

  Chapter 16

  Taveon held his sleeping wife beneath sheets as soft as her womanhood. Morning’s blush fell upon the peach of her shoulder peeking out of the coverlet. He didn’t even care that she’d slept on his side of the bed.

  She fascinated him.

  She was exquisite, beautiful… sensual. She was everything he never dared dream to have and more. Hope filled his heart. For the first time in his life, he believed he’d found a companion he could spend the rest of his life with. A mate, a friend, a lover.

  “Venus.” He kissed her neck and caressed her arm with his fingertips.

  Her lips lifted at the corners into a serene smile, but she didn’t move. He suspected she was weary as they’d made merry into the wee hours of dawn. Viviana had given herself to him repeatedly with total abandonment. She’d been bold, passionate, and completely open to his tactics. Modesty and timidity had found no home in their bed.

  Thinking about their love play caused the side of his erection to fill the crevice of her sweetly rounded backside. They needed to prepare themselves and be on their way if they stood any chance of reaching Yverdon before nightfall. Remi and Monroe most likely awaited them.

  He didn’t care. They could wait.

  “Are ye awake?” He lingered over her soft nipples, drawing circles around the areolas.

  “No.” She whimpered and wiggled. “Close your eyes. It is too bright.”

  He laughed and tickled the skin around her navel before settling between her thighs. Still amazed by the smooth texture, he stroked her mound in lazy caresses and basked in the warmth and femininity of her skin.

  She caught his fingers before he was able to slip inside her, then brought his hand back to her breast and squeezed. “You are too eager this morn, husband.”

  His wife was no gentle maiden, this much he’d learned throughout the night. He tweaked her nipples and pulled on them until they became distended little stones.

  She moaned and arched her spine, causing her backside to stroke his erection.

  Shite!

  Carnal desire raw and hot rushed through his loins. Having made love to her throughout the night, one would think the intensity would simmer.

  It didn’t.

  In fact, the craving to have her pecked at him with a ferocity that nigh overwhelmed him. He threw back the coverlet, releasing the musky scent of their lovemaking into the chamber. Crisp air cooled his heated skin and pebbled hers.

  “Uffa! It is cold,” she complained and scrambled for the coverlet.

  “I will warm ye.” He pulled her hands over her head and rolled her to her stomach. The woman’s arse was every bit as succulent as her breasts. He squeezed one cheek with the hand not holding her in place, and then bent to kiss her succulent backside.

  She squirmed and as sly as the snake in Eden, he slipped his index finger through her velvety folds. Hot, wet, honey warmed his finger.

  She eased her knees apart and mewed.

  He added a second finger and massaged her anus with his thumb, testing her modesty. Oh, he wanted to take her there, but ‘twas too soon for such an act.

  “Oh, Taveon…” She rose up on her knees, spreading herself for his shameless teasing. Her back dipped into a low curl which thrust her backside against his hand.

  Or mayhap it wasn’t too soon. The woman was not shy by any means. She was spectacular. He’d never known anyone so free and trusting with their sexual wants.

  When the beginning of her climax danced around his fingers, he positioned himself at her entrance and thrust deep into her sheath.

  Oh, God, she felt good. Too good.

  With his hands wrapped around her hip bones, he pumped wildly until fire ignited in his cock and demanded to be set free. He stared at their reflection, glowing in the purest morning light. Two lovers on the brink of bliss.

  Her head tilted upward, her lips parted. Purple eyes ignited with untamed passion.

  “Come with me, Venus.”

  Without pause, she reached between her legs and brought herself to climax the same time his spilled his seed inside her.

  “Oh, cazzo!” Her arms gave way and she collapsed against the bolster, but he was not yet prepared to leave her. He caressed her back and held himself still for long moments, enjoying the splendor of spending himself inside his wife without fear.

  Eventually, he eased out of her and left her lying face down in the bolster with one bare foot dangling off the side of the bed. He crossed the chamber to where a pitcher and bowl had sat over night and dipped a cloth into cool water. “Would ye like m
e to fetch a maid?”

  She rolled to her back and stretched, completely uninhibited by her nudity. “No. You can assist me.”

  Returning bedside, he cleaned her, finding the task every bit as stimulating as making love to her. He smiled inside and pulled her from the bed. “I suspect if I dinnae get ye dressed we will never leave this chamber.” He located her strewn garments on the floor and pulled her undertunic over her head.

  “Can we not stay another night?” She pushed her arms through the sleeves while he tied the tiny bow, sealing up her favors.

  He kissed her pouting lips, thinking he could be easily swayed, but he had to think of his family and especially Cora-Rose. He draped Viviana in her plum-colored gown and went to work on the laces at her back. “Ravenhurst awaits us, m’lady, but I promise to find an inn this eve.”

  She turned in his arms and kissed his nipple while her hands slipped down his stomach. “And if I cannot wait until this eve?”

  Brazen hizzie! “I fear ye will have to control your lust and wait.”

  “Pish.”

  He’d married the Devil’s seductress. Shaking his head, he pulled on his chausses and braies, then rounded the settee to snatch up his tunic and doublet. A small pouch sitting in the settee’s center caught his attention. He was certain it hadn’t been there before. He pulled on his boots, secured his weapons and snatched up the satchel. “Is this yours?” He crossed the chamber and held her hand, showing her the crimson velvet pouch.

  “No.” She released the string and retrieved a missive from inside.

  Taveon read the words over her shoulder.

  Please accept these gifts as a show of my gratitude. Your performance was not only impressive, but most evocative. My mistress and I would be delighted if you and your wife decided to stay with us for an undetermined amount of time.

  The Duke of Savoy

  Performance? He’d watched them?

  Disgust sprouted gooseflesh over his chest. Taveon searched the vaulted ceiling for peepholes. ‘Twas impossible to find cracks in the reflective walls. “Gather your things.”