My Daring Highlander

by Vonda Sinclair

  “Oh, Keegan,” she breathed, arching her back. “Aye, I beg of you…”

  He positioned his shaft at her entrance, teasing her with just the tip. When she lifted her hips, offering herself to him, some instinct overpowered him and he thrust his hips. He found himself lodged a couple inches into her slippery, snug heat. Her inner muscles clamped onto him.

  “Ow!” Her nails dug into his arm and more tears glistened on her lashes.

  “Shhh, lass,” he hissed against her mouth. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said, her voice intense. “But it hurts.”

  “I know. Relax your muscles a wee bit right here.” He stroked his hand over her flat lower belly. How incredible she felt, gripping him so firmly. Pain was the opposite of what he was feeling at the moment, but he had to help ease her first time, while maintaining some control over his own body. Hell, all he wanted to do was thrust. Hard. And bury himself deeper in her tight body. But he didn’t. He kissed her, flicking his tongue against her lips. She opened and sucked at his tongue.

  Her inner muscles relaxed a bit, thank the saints. He couldn’t take much more of that squeezing.

  While distracting her with kisses, he withdrew an inch and pushed deeper.

  She cried out, tears dripping from the edges of her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, sweet Seona,” he rasped, leashing the impulse to drive deeper. “Only a couple more minutes and there will be no more pain. I promise.”

  “Truly?”

  “Aye.” He trembled under the onslaught of need. “Just relax, please.”

  She nodded. “I’m ready.”

  “Take a deep breath,” he said. “And let it out.”

  When she did, the pressure on his shaft eased.

  He listened to her calming breaths. “How does that feel?”

  “Not so bad.”

  He withdrew slightly and thrust again. Aye, that was easier. Very slowly and gently, he moved inside her. She felt so astonishing he feared his primitive side might take over. He did not want to get too rough and hurt her. He’d already caused her enough pain. Controlling his actions, he gradually moved faster, pushing his way deeper.

  He groaned with the need to release his seed inside her. But he knew he shouldn’t. Besides, he wanted to give her pleasure first. He paused deep inside her, trying to get himself under control. But when he did, her inner muscles caressed him in a most bewitching way, welcoming his invasion now.

  “Keegan. More.”

  He growled, withdrawing and driving in again. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he made his decision. She was his. No giving her up now. No turning back. She was his wife and if he got her with child, he would be glad.

  He gradually increased his pace, until he was pounding into her. She drew in a deep breath and held it just before her body clamped down on him, squeezing, shoving her hips upward to meet his. He covered her mouth with his to muffle her cries. The more she rode, the deeper he thrust.

  “Oh, aye.” He yearned to find his release at the same time she did, but something in him forced him to wait, some inner strength he didn’t realize he possessed. Some need to give her even more pleasure.

  Seconds later, another climax overtook her. She screamed into his mouth, her muscles milking him. Aye, that was it. He could hold back no longer. His release blasted through him like a fuse lighting a powder keg. The explosion of pleasure seared every nerve in his body and snatched his breath. All thought deserted him, leaving him aware of only one thing—she was his. Completely. His soul melded with hers.

  When he came back to himself, he was still thrusting, although not as hard, enjoying the last vestiges of pleasure.

  Dropping still, he sucked in harsh breaths, then placed a kiss on her lips. “Seona, you are mine now. My wife. I’m never letting you go.”

  She let out a breathy laugh. “And you are my husband. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, lass.”

  Keegan lay down beside Seona and she turned to survey every inch of her gorgeous new husband—the ridges and planes of muscle down his chest and abdomen. Aye, he was even more delectable up close in the firelight than he had been leaving that loch. He’d shown her things and made her feel things she could’ve never imagined. Such intense pleasures.

  ’Twas true his initial invasion of her body had been painful, but his sweet words had helped her relax so she could accept him. And then… once the pain had vanished… she could not believe how splendid he felt driving into her. ’Twas beyond comprehension, as Isobel had said.

  Seona stroked her hand across his chest, enjoying the light sprinkling of hair, then kissed him there. She loved his warm masculine scent. Glancing up into his eyes, she found him watching her.

  “You amaze me,” he said.

  She smiled and kissed his lips. After a few leisurely kisses, he said, “Let me wash you off.” He arose from the bed and went to the pitcher and basin on a table in the corner.

  What did he mean? She glanced down, seeing a smear of her virgin’s blood on her thigh. And on the sheets. Saints! Her face heated.

  Keegan returned and stroked the cold, wet linen cloth over her thigh. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “Nay. ’Twas necessary.” She could hardly remember the pain now; the pleasure had eclipsed it.

  He pushed her thighs apart and washed between. Her flesh was so sensitive she hissed in a sharp breath. But at the same time, a fresh wave of need came over her.

  He returned to the basin to rinse the cloth, then wash himself.

  When he came back to the bed, he lay down on his back, grabbed her and dragged her on top of him.

  “Oh.” How she relished the feel of his hot skin sliding against hers. He skimmed his hands down her back and squeezed her derriere.

  He hummed a soft moan against her lips, placing wee kisses there, then slowly exploring her mouth with his tongue.

  Beneath her, his shaft gradually grew hard again. An answering clenching sensation echoed inside her.

  She shifted and squirmed, trying to ease the itching sensation he was causing. He pulled her knees upward toward his shoulders and she found herself sliding along his shaft.

  She gasped at how wondrous he felt. “Keegan?”

  “Aye. Do you want more?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Are you not too sore?”

  She shook her head. “Nay.”

  He moved his hand between their bodies to position himself. But first, he teased and tormented her by stroking his erection against her wetness. The burning, prickling need for him increased. She pushed against him. The tip slid in and he groaned. The soreness was more than she’d expected. She paused, but he didn’t. She held her breath, hoping it wouldn’t be as painful as the first time.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked.

  “Nay, I realize I am a wee bit sore.”

  “I’m sorry.” Firmly embedded deep inside her, he drew her close, lavishing her with affectionate and sinful kisses. After a few moments, she forgot the soreness and became highly aware of his sizable shaft inside her. So good. She moaned and felt herself growing wetter. Her body clenched, caressing his.

  “Seona,” he groaned.

  “Aye. It feels better and better.”

  He held her hips in his hands and moved within her, slowly, but with growing speed and force. The sensations overwhelmed her entire body and mind, but he didn’t let up until every muscle in her body clenched onto him. The pleasure crashed within her, taking her breath, snatching her control. His mouth devoured hers.

  Astounding moments later, he gripped her strongly to him, ground himself deep and growled into her ear. She savored his climax almost as much as her own.

  His breath was harsh, his face sweaty against hers. “I fear I’ve demanded too much of you for our first time together.”

  She shook her head. “Nay. ’Twas how I wished it.”

  His body slipped from hers and he drew her into a warm embrace beside him. “You are mor
e amazing and beautiful than I could ever put into words.”

  The door crashed open and Seona screamed.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Haldane and his men dismounted at the harbor near Inverness. He dragged the lass off his horse. She was still kicking and thrashing about, trying to hurt him. Loving the fight in her, he grinned and carried her closer to the torch light at the edge of the docks. He wanted to see his prize. Back when they’d both been at Dunnakeil, he’d loved naught more than looking into her eyes, watching her, fantasizing about kissing her beautiful lips, undressing her.

  He stood her on her feet in front of him. “Now listen to me, Seona. I will cut this gag off if you promise not to scream. If you do, I’ll simply tie another one on you.”

  She stood with her head bowed, her long, dark hair shielding her face.

  “Are you listening?” Wishing to look into her lovely dark blue eyes, he tilted her chin up.

  Seona did not look like herself.

  Nay! He felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. Her tear-filled eyes were too dark. The shape… different somehow. He had not seen her in a while, but surely he had not forgotten what she looked like. He dragged her closer to the heated light of the torch and searched her eyes, her face, turning it this way and that. With the gag through her mouth, he couldn’t see the shape of her lips.

  “You’re not Seona! Who are you?” he demanded.

  She mumbled against the gag.

  “I’m going to cut the gag off, and if you scream or call attention, I’ll strangle you. Got it?”

  Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

  Taking his sgian dubh, he cut the cloth at the back of her head and threw it down. The area on either side of her mouth was red and chafed, but most alarming, her lips were not bow-shaped like Seona’s, but thinner.

  “Who the devil are you?” Haldane snarled.

  “Lady Talia Murray. Seona’s sister. Who are you?”

  Haldane let loose a string of curses. How the hell could he have made such a grievous mistake, stealing the wrong sister?

  “Never mind who I am. McMurdo!” Haldane shouted and carried the lass back to his horse.

  “Aye?” McMurdo approached.

  “We have to go back. This is the wrong lady. I want Seona; not her sister.” If he had to, he’d use the sister as bait to lure Lady Seona out.

  ***

  Keegan leapt up from the bed in the inn’s chamber and grabbed his sword, keeping his body between Seona and the door while she pulled on her smock. The bastards had near kicked the door off its hinges.

  Two men wearing metal-studded leather armor entered, lugging a shirtless Rebbie between them, one of his arms around each of their necks. His head hung as if he’d been knocked out. Blood dripped down his chest.

  “What the devil did you do to him?” Keegan demanded, hoping his friend wasn’t dead.

  They tossed Rebbie on the bed.

  Another man with short gray hair and a matching beard entered the room. They were all Murray’s men, one of them his personal bodyguard. They turned their attention to Keegan, smirking at his nakedness. He’d had to grab his sword instead of his plaid. He didn’t care. He could fight naked just as well as clothed.

  All three drew their dirks, long lethal daggers. “Put your clothes on, you whoreson,” the black-haired one closest to him demanded.

  Keegan slashed his sword at the knave, but he dodged back. Keegan kicked him backward into his friends. Within seconds, they righted themselves and were ready to charge him again.

  “You’re outnumbered, MacKay,” the stout man with a gray beard said. “We have three more men downstairs. Don’t force us to kill you. The chief said he’d spare your life if you flee now and don’t look back.”

  “Never.” Keegan knew a sword wasn’t the best weapon for this small space, but his dirk was in its scabbard on the floor by the bed.

  He sent a quick glance at Rebbie, seeing blood glistening on his head. “Is he alive?”

  “Of course. Are you thinking we’re daft enough to kill an earl? Nay, he’s to be Chief Murray’s son-in-law.” The man gave him a nasty grin. “Nay matter how well-hung you might be, MacKay, you’ll never marry that lady. We’re dragging you out of here, dead or alive. Your choice.”

  Three more men stuck their heads in the door, leering and snickering. Bastards! Keegan wanted to slay them all, but he doubted he could before they killed him or injured him severely. He’d never gone up against six before.

  Think, Keegan, think, he commanded himself. Damn! He felt like he had wads of wool in his head.

  “Very well. Allow me to dress.” ’Haps he could buy himself some time if naught else.

  “Dress, then. We’re waiting.”

  “Wait outside the door.”

  “Ha. Do you take us for fools?”

  “Back away.” Keegan waved his sword before the man’s face. “How do I ken you won’t kill me when I lower my sword?”

  “You don’t.” Graybeard smirked.

  A flick of Keegan’s wrist sliced the man’s arm and he dropped his dirk. Cursing and scuffling ensued. The three men who had been in the doorway invaded the room. One of them tossed a doublet over Keegan’s sword blade and grabbed it, while three others tackled Keegan to the floor. He had a quick glimpse of Seona, wearing only a smock, bashing one on the head with the wash basin, a sgian dubh in her other hand.

  “Release him, you blackguards!” she yelled.

  Damn! He was so proud of her.

  One of the other men, brown-haired and sporting a goatee, pulled her back, disarmed and restrained her.

  “Don’t hurt her, you whoreson!” Keegan yelled, intending to kill him if he left one bruise.

  “You’d best be worrying about whether we’re going to hurt you,” Graybeard said as he bound Keegan’s hands behind his back. When they dragged him to his feet and out the door, he glanced back to see if Seona was hurt. She was crying but appeared unharmed.

  The man pushed her onto the bed, followed the other men out, and closed the door. At the bottom of the stairs, the two men dragging Keegan shoved him to the floor. Pain shot through his limbs as his knee and left shoulder struck the slate stone floor.

  “Bastards!” he snarled.

  When he glanced up, a pistol was directed between his eyes and three swords were pointed at him.

  “Put these on, you heathen.” Graybeard threw his clothes at him.

  “Untie my hands and I will.”

  One of the men cut the rope loose.

  After rising to his feet, Keegan slipped the shirt over his head, then eyed them while he belted the plaid about his waist. All six of the men stood around him. Good, they’d left Seona alone in the room with Rebbie. If he awoke, he’d protect her and hopefully get her out of there. The bastards had confiscated all his weapons, and he knew not where his sporran and boots were.

  “Outside, MacKay!” The man waved the pistol toward the exit.

  One of the men behind him pushed him toward the door. He stumbled outside into the dim gray light. A hint of dawn glowed at the horizon. How the hell was he going to get back in there to rescue Seona? If her father found her and Rebbie in the same room, he’d force them to wed. Even if she already was.

  ***

  When the chamber door slammed, leaving Seona alone with Rebbie, knocked out, bleeding, and half-clothed on the bed, she finished dressing. Blast! Her hands shook so badly she could hardly belt her arisaid.

  “Please don’t let them harm Keegan,” she prayed, pulling on her slippers and the black cloak. She had to help him escape her father’s barbaric minions.

  “Laird Rebbinglen?” She shook his muscular shoulder, but he didn’t make a sound. “Saints,” she hissed. Was he alive? Placing her finger beneath his nose, she felt his breath. Thanks be to God. How could she wake him?

  She found the pitcher half-full of cold water on a nearby table and poured it over his head, drenching his black hair and the pillow. Stirring a bit, he moaned
and grimaced. He could have a bad head injury. If this was her father’s idea of trying to get Rebbie to marry her, ’twas indeed a flawed plan. She had to escape the room before they were discovered together, then find Keegan. Rebbie was a strong, tough warrior, and she had no doubt he would survive.

  She grabbed Keegan’s dirk, sporran and boots from the floor. Opening one of the window shutters, she looked down in the early dawn light. ’Twas too far for her to jump. She ran to the door, opened it a crack and peered out. The narrow corridor and stairs were empty. Taking Keegan’s belongings, she raced down the stairs into the empty tavern then peered out the front door. Several men lingered in front of the building. She went in search of a back door. Once she’d unbarred it, she crept out and headed toward the corner.

  A narrow close ran between the tavern and the neighboring building. She slipped down it and hunched to peep out. Men yelled encouragements and two blades clashed and clanged. When a man moved aside, she saw that one of the warriors involved in the sword dual was Keegan. Thank the saints he had a weapon.

  She held her breath and watched for several moments. Keegan held his own and appeared the more skilled swordsman, driving the other man back across the grassy field. But then her father, practically running toward the tavern with four more men, caught her eye. What on earth? They glanced at the men fighting in the nearby field, then disappeared from sight, headed toward the entry door. He probably hoped to find her and Rebbie alone in the chamber. She smiled, glad he’d be disappointed.

  But how could she get to Keegan and help him? He was barefoot and needed his boots. He might also need his dirk. But if she ran out there, she’d distract him, and her father’s men would seize her. She had to slip further away and somehow draw Keegan’s attention when he wasn’t engaged in a sword fight. She raced along the alley again, then behind the buildings. Dawn was growing lighter.

  She sensed someone behind her a second before they grabbed her around the waist. Terror clawed through her. She screamed, but a big, rough hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound.