by K. E. Saxon
Maryn bent and began carefully folding and putting away Daniel’s clothing, the urge to destroy assuaged by the earlier frenzied flurry of flying garments.
“He is a man,” Lady Maclean explained matter-of-factly. “His mind works in ways too mysterious for a mortal woman to ken.” She shrugged. “Mayhap he thinks the lack of weapons will keep you inside the walls of the keep.”
Maryn jerked her head up, righteous indignation making her stomach constrict. “Hah! I wager that is the narrow track his stubborn arrogance has taken him down! I suppose he believes that I”—she pointed at her chest with her index finger—“being a mere woman, could never conceive of a way to acquire more weapons.” She whirled around with her hands on her hips and stormed across the chamber to gaze, unseeing, out the window. “I now see how his mind works: He believed I’d docilely follow his orders—allow him to make the keep my prison!”
“Maryn, my dear, Daniel loves you; he wants you to be content, to find joy in your union with him. I do not believe he truly wants to keep you prisoner, as you seem determined to believe,” Lady Maclean said after a moment.
Maryn’s shoulders slumped. Gritting her teeth and swallowing hard, she kept the mist in her eyes from turning into pools. Because her husband had been so cold, so distant, since storming out this day past, she had allowed her hurt pride to drown out reason and had, thus far, refrained from attempting to gain an audience with him. And now, what had begun between them as a heated argument had become a cold stalemate. But Lady Maclean’s words had cut through that protective shell of pride she’d cloaked herself in and, after a moment more of silent debate, she whirled and faced the older woman. “I do believe ‘tis time to run my arrogant husband to ground,” she said spiritedly, a determined gleam in her amber eyes.
*
Daniel eyed Fia as he passed her stall. She’d been irritable and unwieldy since she’d returned from the Donald holding—and even more so since she’d witnessed his ire at her mistress this day past. In fact, earlier this morn, when the stableman had her out of her stall and Daniel had passed by her, she’d nearly kicked him in the shin. “Keep those devilkin teeth on your side of the gate, my fine lass,” he said warily.
To the stableman, he said, “I’ll take care of my bay,” before continuing down the line of stalls until he reached the stallion’s enclosure. He led the animal in and softly began to speak to the high-strung beast as he unhooked the halter from its head, then brought the saddle down and away from its back.
He’d just now returned from a quest to ease his mind. Because, even after questioning Derek about the veracity of Maryn’s assertion that the wood was safe, and hearing the man’s defense of her claims, he’d continued to worry. So, he’d decided the only—and best—way to set his mind at ease was to explore the surrounding forest himself, as his previous trek into it on the day of his wife’s flight to her father’s holding had yielded little knowledge of its occupants. Once there, he’d been relieved to find that the wood abounded in small game, but was, for the most part, free of creatures dangerous to his wife. He’d encountered only one boar track and had seen no hint of wolves residing there.
“Well, it seems, ‘tis high time I hunt down my angry wife and negotiate a truce,” he mumbled to himself. Frowning, he brooded once more on the tumultuous scene that had played out between himself and Maryn this day past. When he’d discovered that she’d left the keep again without escort, he’d been near out of his mind to find her—had only just climbed on his stallion’s back, ready to ride out and search for her, when she’d come prancing back into the courtyard on her mare, hectic color high on her cheeks and six rabbits tied to her saddle.
He’d been too frightened, too angered by her lack of fidelity to her word, to act rationally and had only barely had the will to hold his tongue long enough to haul her off her horse and up to their bedchamber—which, with a sharp ache in his chest, he now recalled she’d believed he was doing in order to have an afternoon tryst with her—before blasting her with the full force of his wrath. The crushed look on her face when he’d done so had told him he’d hurt her badly, but he’d not softened. And, much to her credit, she’d quickly recovered and returned his wrath in like measure.
His frown now turned into a sad smile, in spite of the worry she’d caused him, and he shook his head, for the unholy row that had followed had surely shaken the rafters from their moorings. Even now, his throat ached from the strain he’d put it through.
And when he could stand not one more of her angry excuses, he’d taken her dirk and slingshot and prohibited any further adventures outside the walls without his knowledge, permission, and escort. Then he’d stormed out of the room in a high fury.
Sighing, he scrubbed his sleeve over his sweaty brow. And he’d slept in the tower chamber again. Lord, he’d truly believed he’d quit that place for good a fortnight ago. Well, if he had anything to say about it—and by God he did—he’d be sleeping in his wife’s arms this night, and for evermore.
He’d been a fool to prolong their silent battle of wills, but his ire had not sufficiently eased before now to attempt another dialogue with her. He’d needed to complete his survey of the forest first. And, tho’ he was still angered by her vehement defense of her actions—she actually believed that her pledge had not included going to the woods unescorted!—it was now time to run his frighteningly reckless wife to ground.
*
They met on the stairs leading to their bedchamber. They both spoke at once.
“—We need to talk,” he said.
“—I’m glad I found you,” she said.
“—Pardon?”
“—What?”
The smile Daniel gave her held both frustration and amusement as he silently pointed in the direction of their bedchamber. She thrilled when he grabbed hold of her hips in the next instant and turned her around, nudging her along with a gentle push.
Maryn entered the room and strolled over to the hearth before turning to face her husband, who was leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest and doing a slow perusal of her. She trembled. His eyes, like hot embers, singed her skin as they skimmed her body, resting first on her breasts, and then slowly gliding down to settle on the junction of her thighs.
‘Twas an effort, but she managed to keep from looking down, knowing he could see naught through her layers of clothing. Lord, but does he not have the ability to make me melt into a puddle in less than an instant?
“I’ve missed you,” he said at last. “I was a fool to leave you alone in our bed last night—‘twill not happen again.”
Her heart thudded a sad refrain. “I missed you, too. I miss us.” Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “Why stand you so far away?”
Her husband’s smile was pained. “I stand here so that I am unable to touch that delectable body of yours.”
A thrill ran down Maryn’s spine. She returned his smile.
He sighed and scrubbed his palm over the back of his neck. “I surveyed the forest today,” he said, “and you’ll be pleased to learn that I found it to be much as you described.”
She sent him a smug smile as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Aye?”
Rolling his eyes, he grinned and shook his head. With a shrug, he said, “I would still prefer that you not go there alone, that you allow me or one of the guards to escort you, but I’ll not demand it of you—”
Maryn squealed and bounced up and down.
“—if you will at least promise to tell me your plans prior to your departure.”
Her nod was exuberant, her eyes widened with glee. “Does this mean you’ll return my dirk and slingshot?”
He cocked one eyebrow, his smile knowing and dark. “Aye…but for a price.”
Maryn understood immediately the type of price he demanded and it made her blood rush. And with the passion-greased cogs in her mind whirring ‘round, she conceived of a wicked form of payment to give him. It caused a ripple of adventure to trave
l up her spine.
With slow, sultry movements, she lifted her hands and untied the strings of her bodice. “I’m very warm—are you not warm?” she asked in a breathless voice. Once loosened, the heavy gown slipped easily down her body to puddle at her feet. “I believe I shall take off a few things and relax awhile before supper.”
The stunned look on his countenance told her that she’d adeptly taken the sexual upper hand from him and when she saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed before his head wobbled in agreement, ‘twas all she could do to hold back a crow of victory.
Now, with as provocative a smile as she could offer playing on her lips, she fondled the ties to her chemise a long moment before finally releasing them. Then, slowly lowering the garment, she let it slide off of her shoulders to snag on the tips of her upturned breasts. Satisfied with her husband’s fervid stare, she shrugged her shoulders. The linen material left its perch and slipped down to her waist.
Her husband’s breath came out in a long whoosh. “Blood of Christ,” he murmured. It did not—could not—escape her notice that his swollen manhood tented the front of his tunic.
Deeply gratified by his fervent reaction, Maryn continued her game, lifting her hands to her hair and slowly pulling out the ribbons holding it in place. Then, stretching her arms high over her head, she provocatively pushed her breasts forward. “Ooohhh, that feels goooood! I’m so tired.” The expression on Daniel’s face in that moment amused and incited her. For his eyes bugged out so far, his face so red, that he looked as if he’d swallowed a goose—feathers and all.
“Maryn,” her husband said in a creaky voice before clearing his throat. “Maryn—do you tease, or do you promise?”
She did not answer. Instead, she gave him a wicked smiled, placed her hands on her bosom and slowly stroked. With a pout, she mewled, “Daniel, I think there’s something wrong with my breasts. For they ache quite badly, and the only thing that seems to relieve them is a thorough kneading. But my hands are not big enough—and my arms are much too weary.
In no more than an instant, he stood before her, his breathing ragged and her heart did an excited flip. When he took over the task with eager proficiency, her body became liquid, hummed.
“My nipples feel dry and tight, will you lick them for me? I cannot reach them.” How she’d managed to speak through the daze of desire, she did not know.
“Enough,” he said in a rough tone, and then he lifted her into his arms, strode to the bed, and dropped her to the mattress.
She squealed, but with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, she raised up on her elbows and anxiously awaited his next move.
He shoved his braies off his hips and with shaking hands, tossed up the skirt of her chemise and gripped the undersides of her knees, spreading her thighs wide. “Knead this,” he murmured, pushing himself inside her.
She was more than ready for him. With an exultant moan, she collapsed back on the mattress and closed her eyes, flinging her arms over her head.
Her husband bent forward then and cupped her breasts in his hands, enthusiastically obliging her earlier request by hungrily gorging on the aching peaks as he continued to rock into her.
She arched, went rigid with the intensity of her climax, crying out, “Daniel!”
He threw his head back. “Aaahhh!!” Clearly desperate for his own release now, he reared back and flung her thighs over his forearms. His eyes glazed with desire, they scorched her skin as he held her hips high and plunged ever deeper into her. It seemed to her that his body took over then, as he mindlessly pumped into her receptive sheath, bringing her to the edge once more, and in a matter of moments, they catapulted together into orgasmic bliss.
*
“So where’re my weapons? Maryn was lying on top of him, her chin on her crossed hands, and her finger caressing his afternoon stubble.
“I told you, the weapons will be returned to you for a price.”
Her lower lip protruded in a pout. “Did I not just pay your price? What more could you possibly want from me? A traveling minstrel show? Or, is it that I left you unsatisfied?”
Lifting his head a fraction, Daniel opened one eye and looked at her. She had to know the answer to that—he’d nearly broken the bed frame in his exuberance—but, clearly she’d resorted to sarcasm in order to show her irritation. In fact, he could almost see the steam coming from her ears. He hoped that she never grasped how often he teased her—for, most of the enjoyment was in his ability to make her blood boil believing he was in earnest. But, his mind had yet to begin functioning at full tilt, making it impossible for him to quickly think of another, more innocuous, “price” for her weapons. Resting his head back on the pillow, he shut his eye and let out a false sigh of resignation. “Well, I suppose it will simply have to suffice. Your weapons will be returned to you after our evening meal.”
“Have to suffice!” she grumbled under her breath. “He likely will not be satisfied ‘til I’ve learned a few tumbler tricks in the bargain.”
Daniel grinned. The saucy image of her doing a somersault in the nude running through his mind. He knew she was on the verge of drawing blood, but could not hold his tongue. “Aye, that ought to do it.”
*
Daniel rubbed the sore spot on his chest above his left nipple. She’d bitten him! First she’d screamed loud enough to wake the dead and then she’d opened her beautiful lips and chomped…hard! He glared at her from the corner of his eye, watching her busily consuming a large portion of their meal from their trencher.
She squirmed in her seat and he grinned.
Ah, yes. He’d meted out the appropriate revenge for such an abuse—he’d used his skill to overcome her fury and break her willful behavior. He’d licked her relentlessly, sending her into one climax after another and each time she’d found release he’d slapped her luscious little bottom.
*
Maryn saw Daniel’s amusement at her discomfort and decided to ignore him. Although the hard seat of the stool chafed her tender buttocks, the pleasure she’d received had been well worth it. Her canal was still engorged from the number of times she’d climaxed, and the bud of her sex throbbed with sensitivity.
How had he known she would peak more powerfully if he gave her those swift, lightly stinging blows to her behind at its crest? She was out of her depth and he knew it, taking full advantage. She hoped one day she would control the upper hand, but knew it would probably never be. She took a deep breath and blew it out on a sigh of resignation. She supposed she must be content that he chose such pleasurable ways to teach her a lesson. Then realization dawned and she brightened, biting her lip on her smile before it turned into a wide grin of self-satisfaction. He’d lost the upper hand as well, in the end. She’d been soaked and limp, pleading for him to allow her to rest, when he’d surged into her and loudly flooded her womb with hot, liquid seed.
They’d arrived late for supper.
Ah, but enough of that; she’d ignored her guests too long. Gingerly turning on her stool, she said to Jesslyn, “Where is Alleck? I just noticed he is not with us this eve.”
“He’s at Niall’s house. The two lads are working on a secret project of some kind.” On a sigh, she said, “He’s never at home nowadays.”
“Is he still regaling you with stories of the magic coin?”
“Nay, he put that in his box with his other treasures a few days past. Tho’ he’s still convinced that a ‘magic giant’ dwells in the forest and was the one to give him the coin.”
Hearing the worry in Jesslyn’s voice, Maryn rushed to reassure her. “You must not be troubled by Alleck’s belief, he’ll grow out of it. Why, when I was no more than Alleck’s age, I was sure a brownie lived in our kitchen cellar. I thought he was eating the leftover bannock cakes.”
Her husband gave a rude snort of amusement.
Maryn pinched his thigh in retaliation.
He grabbed her hand and moved it further up.
She jerked it away and turned her
back to him.
He roared with laughter.
Her cheeks flamed. Primly straightening her spine, she continued, “Eventually I discovered my father pilfered them during the night. My point is that my wee bairn’s mind saw magic in an otherwise rather uninteresting event.”
Clearly—and thankfully—having not noticed the hand battle under the table, Jesslyn gave Maryn a curious look, but made no comment. On another sigh, she replied, “I’m sure you are right.”
“It is curious that we have not found any of the other coins from Jamison Maclean’s store, however,” Maryn said.
“‘Tis been years, mayhap whatever coins he used in trade have now been traded further afield,” Jesslyn replied.
Maryn thought that was as good an explanation as any. She glanced at her husband and noticed the intent look on his face. She shrugged, deciding to allow him to keep his own council for the time being.
Turning her mind to the matter of a mate for Jesslyn, she concentrated on her other table guest. He’d been busily consuming his food, seemingly uninterested in the woman next to him. They’d invited Derek to dine with them that eve, but he’d barely said two words to Jesslyn throughout the meal. He’d spent the majority of the time consulting with Daniel. Maryn was not sure if his rudeness was due to a lack of interest or shyness.
She decided to find out. “Derek, did you know that Jesslyn made this delicious cheese you’ve been enjoying?”
His mouth full of the substance, Derek finished chewing and replied, “Nay—‘tis good, thanks,” and turned back to Daniel. “Thought you any further of building a tower for a mangonel?”
The two warriors then began a detailed and lively discussion of the pros and cons of this idea.
After a moment, Maryn tried again. “Jesslyn’s also brought us these lovely raspberries, will you try one?” She held the berry in her outstretched palm.
“But, know you well that a mangonel might be the difference between”—Derek took the berry from her without a glance in her direction—“us winning or losing the day.” He popped it in his mouth and chewed, his eyes intently fixed on Daniel.