Heart of the Highlander

by Robbins, Kate

  Cool air caressed her thighs, making her tingle and ache in ways she never had. Sure, they’d kissed before, but never with such a need and urgency. Muren pulled his plaid away from him and tugged his tunic up and over his head, forcing their kiss to break. She spread her hands wide across his muscular chest and upward to the back of his neck to pull him down again. Did she claim him or did he claim her? Did it even matter?

  Rorie lifted the other side of her skirt, and in one swift move pulled the garment off her entirely. Now completely bare, she hesitated.

  He placed her gown on the ground and then lowered them both, covering her body with his. As soon as his warmth touched her body, all other thought fled. The weight of him pressed her into the soft grass beneath her. His knee slipped between her legs, and as soon as his thigh made contact with her most private area, she bucked in response.

  “God, I want to be inside you now, Muren,” he whispered, as though he were in pain.

  Slipping his tongue inside her mouth at the same time he slipped a finger inside her, was enough to fire Muren to the point of no return. She writhed beneath him, tugging at his hair and lifting her body to meet his hand as he stroked in a rhythm, which brought about the most delicious and wicked sensations deep within her.

  Rorie broke the kiss and then bent low to take her nipple into his mouth. Oft times before, a look or a kiss from him would harden her nipples, but that was nothing compared to the shot of pleasure she received the moment he sucked hard and then put his teeth together very lightly.

  Muren’s head tilted back as Rorie continued his sweet torture, bringing her to heights she had never imagined possible. He sucked and stroked until finally, her hips lifted just briefly, and she was sure he would have her now.

  Instead, he shimmied his arms under her pelvis and buried his face into her womanhood. At the first stroke of his tongue, she cried out, and her hips shot upward. When he pinned her so that she could not move, Muren was sure she could not remain conscious much longer. Higher and higher the pleasure built. Rorie slipped two fingers inside her at the same time as he sucked hard on her bud. Muren’s whole body shook in response then went rigid, and wave after wave of ecstasy coursed through her throbbing body.

  Before the full effect had washed through her, Rorie positioned himself between her legs and thrust. Her breath caught in her throat. She had caught a glance of his enlarged manhood but had no idea just how large he was until he was buried deep within her. The intensity of her climax, coupled with this new sensation of being so completely impaled by him, made her breath catch in her throat.

  Then he didn’t move. Dear God, she hoped that wasn’t it. She was not done. She wanted more, so much more of him, but did not understand what she needed to do. Instinctively, she moved her hips, causing him to slide out of her a little, then moving again brought him back deep within. Oh God, it was glorious!

  “I will not last if you keep doing that.”

  “I want you to do that. I like how that feels.”

  Rorie moved inside her. He kissed her deeply as he stroked in and out, building her pleasure again. She clung to his shoulders and tilted her head back, thrusting her breasts upward as he moved faster. His breath came in pants, and he slipped his hands underneath her shoulders and held on. His slow thrusts gained speed, and Muren matched his rhythm. The sound of his flesh pounding against hers, and his own intoxicating scent only heightened the sensations brought on by the maddening feeling of him inside her, thickening and hardening more with each passing second.

  Muren’s body ached and throbbed for more of him. As though he could not thrust deep enough or get close enough to her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed tight.

  Rorie groaned and pushed deeper into her. She was at the tipping point and marveled in the sensations racing through her veins. She knew what was to come and ached for it, but wanted to hold here on the brink just for a few more seconds. Then Rorie pulled almost all the way out. She held her breath, knowing that when he entered her again, she would shatter into a million pieces and likely float away on the wind.

  Rorie’s body tensed above her. “Open your eyes, Muren,”

  She did and locked gazes with him just as he pushed back inside her. His stiff erection grew as he tensed above her, sending her over the edge into the pounding waves of her climax. Her body shook in time with his as his additional movements served to heighten her pleasure. Her body squeezed around his erection until there was no energy left in her. She let her legs fall to the ground and her arms fall wide.

  Rorie moved to the side and lay flat as well. They both breathed heavy as a cloud passed overhead and a light mist began. Rorie rolled back to her side and wrapped his arm and leg around her. He nuzzled and kissed her neck. She was grateful he did not speak. For there were no words that could do justice to what they had shared. Now she was truly his and he hers.

  * * *

  Sitting up, Rorie was careful not to wake her. She’d given herself to him with such abandon, he knew this was their way forward. They had not just shared passion; theirs was a joining of the souls. For as much as she was uncertain about her own true self, she could not deny what they had anymore.

  Rorie donned his tunic and belt. He wrapped his plaid around her and turned toward the pool. It had been many years since he played here with Ewen. Though his father had instructed them to avoid it, ’twas no surprise that they dove from the highest rock nearby.

  He sat by the pool, just as Muren had, and peered into its depths. With the clouds passing overhead and the sunlight shining through from time to time, it was fair enough to say one could imagine something in blackness changing.

  Leaning in for a closer look, Rorie jumped when a hand touched his shoulder.

  Delighted laughter met his ears, and he turned and swiftly grabbed Muren’s waist, pulling her in front of him onto his lap.

  “ ’Tis not wise to sneak up on a man whist he is intent on something else.”

  She smiled up at him as she brushed her fingers over his chest. “Is it not? And what will happen to a lass if she does just that?”

  Rorie bent low and nuzzled her neck then kissed a path down to her breasts before sucking hard on her nipple through her shift. Her soft gasp made his loins tighten. He’d have her again before they left. The thought thrilled him.

  “I think a lass might find delight in the ways in which she will be punished. Shall I show you how?”

  Muren placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him toward her for a kiss. Her mouth searched his, her tongue seeking, yearning for his touch. He returned it wholeheartedly. Rorie held her head as he laid her back on the soft grass and covered her body with his. He’d known only two women in his time, but neither experience could compare to what he and Muren had just shared.

  Stroking his tongue across hers, he pressed his erection against her. He was not sure if she was ready or not so would hold back and let her take the lead, but he prayed he could hold on. Just kissing her was about to drive him wild with need.

  He did not have to wait long. Muren tugged at his tunic, and at the moment their kiss broke, he gazed down into her eyes. She was the most incredible creature he’d ever beheld in that moment. Lips swollen, eyes half closed, and hair tussled from their earlier passion, she was a perfect depiction of womanly passion, and he thanked Christ she was his.

  Rorie tossed his tunic to one side and lifted her shift. Muren lifted her bottom so he could pull it upward and over her head. He traced his hand down across the side of her breast and farther down to grip her hip. She spread her legs in response and held on tight to his shoulders.

  “I want you inside me, now,” she whispered.

  He’d never seen such conviction in her. Who was he to deny his lady? Rorie grinned and positioned himself so that he pressed against her, but would not enter her. Their earlier passion had been fervent, so he wanted to make sure he was gentle with her this time.

  Muren shifted her hips, allowing ju
st the tip of him to slide inside. Her body squeezed around him, urging him forward. It was everything he could do to not pound into her as his body so desperately wanted.

  “Rorie, please,” she whispered.

  He slowly pushed into her, reveling in her tight, hot sheath. His blood pounded in his veins as his excitement built, but he would not quicken his pace. Muren’s hips moved upward to accept all of him and, once fully joined, her head fell back in a gasp. The sight of her beneath him, heavy breasts heaving upward, head back with her flaming red hair splayed out around her, with her eyes closed and her mouth open, was his undoing.

  Rorie pulled back and then slammed into her. She groaned and gasped. “Yes, Rorie, harder.”

  God, this woman was his perfect match in every way. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her again and again until he felt her body pulse tight around him. He could hold on no longer as his climax washed over him and his erection thickened and his seed spilled into her. Rorie’s body shook above her as the waves of his passion lapped through him.

  When he was fully sated, he slipped out of her and lay back on the grass, staring up at the sky. He could not help but smile. He’d wanted her from the first day they met, but nothing could have prepared him for this. His mind buzzed with all the ways he wanted to have her, all the places, too. Something told him she would be willing to try just about anything.

  Her warm body curled up beside his. She slid her arm and leg over him and placed her head on his shoulder. Rorie stroked her arm and side, and let his eyes close. This very moment was the most relaxed he’d ever been in his life, and he was certain he could stay like this forever.

  A cool breeze made him open his eyes. When he looked up, dark clouds now covered the sky. Muren breathed deeply beside him and, though he hated to wake her, he did not want them to get caught in the rain.

  Sitting up, he kissed her cheek and said, “Muren, you must wake. It’s going to rain. Come on, love, wake up.”

  She blinked her eyes open a little then looked up. Upon seeing the same dark sky, she turned to him with a worried look. “We must return straight away.”

  “Aye, love. Are you well?”

  She paused for a moment and then smiled at him. “This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

  “Then why do you look so sad?”

  “I am not sad,” she said.

  “You’re still thinking about what Ada said, aren’t you?”

  “I cannot help it. But I will try, Rorie. For you.”

  He stood and helped her up. Donning his tunic quickly, he then set about to aide her. He was not the most adept at women’s clothing, but he fared well enough so that she was dressed and they were moving toward the path as the first drop of rain fell.

  By the time they reached the lodge, the skies had opened, and they were satched to the bone.

  “Where have you been?” Morag asked as they entered the lodge. “I’ve been worried sick.”

  “We were walking and exploring the area around the pool and the watch tower,” Rorie said.

  “Well, you’re both soaked, so come, Muren. You need to get out of those wet clothes.”

  As Muren and Morag retreated to the back chamber, Rorie stood by the fire to dry himself. He stared into the flames and thought about what he and Muren had shared. She was his wife now by natural law and would be by God’s law in the coming days. He intended to ensure she was not bothered by anyone again. He was not sure how he would manage it, but he was also determined that these dreams of hers would cease to steal her peace. Surely Ada could do something for her. And speaking of which, he intended to find out exactly what the old woman had said to her.

  Rorie looked around the lodge and found Ada sitting alone by a smaller hearth in the cooking area, working on a cloth with a needle and thread.

  “How do you fare, Ada?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “I am well, my lord. How is your lady? You were caught in a downpour.”

  Sensing a double meaning, he asked, “Exactly what do you know, Ada? What did you tell Muren?”

  The wrinkles around her eyes softened as she took on a saddened expression. “I do not believe I should be the one to tell you that. ’Tis her dream, and she is the one who knows what to do about it.”

  “But you know what it is.”

  “Aye, that I do, but ’tis not my place to tell something of that sort. You asked me here to do what I can to help her. I can only do so much. She needs a seer more than a healer. Sure, I can concoct a tincture for her at any time her pain comes on, but what’s happening to her is much more than a headache. Surely you know that.”

  “I don’t know anything, Ada. That’s why I’m asking you. I do not pretend to ken how your healing remedies work any more than I understand how a dream can affect a person so.”

  “You still believe they’re dreams?” she asked with that scolding tone which brought back many memories of when he’d heard it from his own mother.

  “What else could they be?”

  “Sit with me a while, Rorie.” She placed her stitching aside and folded her hands in her lap. When he pulled a chair over, she smiled and said, “There are things in this world we do not understand. For you, seeking out the counsel of a priest or an elder is the usual way to go. For me, I seek answers in all the living things around me. If there is sickness, ’tis sure it came from this land, and the remedy can be found there, too. Sometimes it’s a little harder to find, but the land provides everything in balance.”

  “You are pagan,” he said. Though he’d suspected it—most healers were—he’d never actually had a conversation with one before. For sure, Father Iain would bless Muren when he came and offer communion, but his form of healing for her would come in the form of prayer. There was an interesting contrast between the two. One was in the spiritual form in heaven; the other in the spiritual form beneath their feet.

  “Aye, does that bother you?”

  “No, not as long as you understand that Father Iain will be here in a few days and he will likely engage Muren in a series of prayers, as well as your healing remedies.”

  “No, lad, I do not mind that at all. I believe there is a place for both of us in her healing.”

  “And you will not tell me about her dreams?”

  She smiled again. “No, lad. I will not. ’Tis not my place.”

  “I respect that. Is there anything you need? For yourself, or to help Muren? I can have the lads scour the island for anything that grows here.”

  “Thank you, they have already offered and have been searching for wild yarrow for me.”

  Rorie stood at the sound of voices in the main hall. “If you need anything at all, you let me know or you let Morag know.”

  “Aye, lad. Morag is a pure soul like her daughter. She has already offered to help.”

  Rorie nodded and left Ada to her stitching. At the threshold of the kitchen, he turned. “What are you making by the way?”

  “Panels for a bairn’s quilt.”

  Rorie stared hard at her for a moment. Whose bairn, he dare not ask.

  Chapter Twelve

  Muren wished she had a mirror nearby, like the one Freya kept in her bed chamber at Dunrobin, but there would be no sensible way to transport something that large here by ship. As it was, that morning a ship arrived with Father Iain from Eilean Donan, along with Rorie’s brother, Ewen, and two of their sisters, both of whom had presented her with beautiful gowns from which to choose.

  Placing a wreath of hawthorne on her head, her mother smoothed Muren’s hair around her shoulders. She picked at the ties on the arms and at the back of the crimson velvet gown that fit her frame like a glove. Never had a gown quite accentuated her breasts in this way; it actually lifted them slightly. The gold stitching on the square neckline and long dropped sleeves matched that of the gold girdle now fastened low on her hips. It was quite pretty and far better to get married in than the woolen gowns she’d been wearing since arriving on this island
.

  “There, you are perfect, my precious lass.”

  Muren looked at her mother and smiled. She had no doubts left about marrying Rorie. Well, none that she would voice or give credence to. She had not had any hint of a headache or a dream in the two days since she and Rorie had given themselves to each other near the pool. And though she would have loved to take him to bed and stay there until the time had come for them to be wed, they had decided to hold off until tonight.

  It was near torture being near him without touching or tasting him. Muren’s body trembled and tingled when he was near, as though he was the only medicine she needed.

  The door burst open, and Rorie’s two sisters entered the chamber and closed the door behind them. They stopped just inside and stared at Muren.

  “You are stunning!” Agatha said. Then, nudging Lena, she said, “I told you the crimson would suit her better.”

  “I am sure you’d say that even if it looked like a sack on her,” Lena said. Then, turning to Muren with her hands held out, she said, “Not that it looks like a sack on you.”

  Muren liked Rorie’s sisters. She’d taken to Lena especially right away. Being close to the same age and of similar temperament, they hit it off immediately. At least, that had been the case two years ago. Now Muren regarded the woman in a different light. And, in fact, it was Agatha’s bold nature Muren found herself relating to more than Lena’s reserved manner. Still, she regarded both with respect and gratitude for their kinship.

  “ ’Tis beautiful. Truly, I have never seen such a gown.”

  “It was our mother’s. Agatha had it freshened up when you returned with Rorie a fortnight ago,” Lena said.

  “We were certain at the time that a wedding was impending, so we wanted to be prepared,” Agatha said.

  “We would never have imagined the complications that would keep you from making this day happen, but we are so glad it’s finally here.”