Tharaen (Immortal Highlander Book 2): A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Hazel Hunter

  “If we dinnae feed its longing, ’twill return to me and sleep again.” He sounded a little desperate. “Tell me of your time. Kinley says you have castles and towers of glass in your city.”

  “I guess we do,” Diana said, and pillowed her head on her arm. But it wasn’t the city she thought of. Instead she relished the powerful heat of his body which, along with the ink streaking over her skin, seemed to wrap every inch of her in soft warmth. “San Diego has a big harbor, with lots of boats and yachts and ships. I like to watch them coming into dock.” She glanced down at the ink scrolling across the insides of her thighs. “This isn’t working, and I don’t want to talk about home. I don’t want to talk at all. I want to violate your body in a hundred different ways.”

  He took hold of her hand in a way that told her he was trying not to do anything else with it.

  “You are not… We both want you too much, my lady.”

  “I get that,” she said and shamelessly pressed her bottom against the thick, hard length of his penis. “Remember what almost happened when you tied me up?”

  “Aye.” He nuzzled her neck, and shifted her right leg so that her calf rested atop his. “When I tied you to that bed, I didnae wish to leave you. I desired to stay, and open your strange garments, and look upon you naked and beautiful beneath me. I wished it so much my cock turned to iron.” His hand released hers, and moved up to cup one throbbing breast. The way he caressed it made Diana swallow a moan. “I couldnae rid myself of that wanting until much later, when I lay in my bed, and thought on you as I rubbed myself.”

  “That’s good,” Diana said and took in a quick breath as she felt him press his heavy length between her thighs. “But you should have come back and let me do it. I like playing in bed, and I’d love playing with you.”

  “I didnae ken you truly wanted me, until I gave you my wedding clothes.” He stroked his thumb in a circle around her peak, soothing the tight pucker of her aureole. “Desire makes your eyes darken to amethyst. Or did I see only what I wanted?”

  “No, you nailed it. I almost ripped off the tartan.” She shifted her hips until her damp, sensitive folds nestled against his shaft. Raen began stroking her with short, easy thrusts, and the ridge of his cockhead grazed her pulsing clit. “Oh, that feels even better than the tats. Maybe, ah, you could do that inside me?”

  “You need more, my passionate one, and I shall give it to you,” Raen said, his voice taking on an eerie rasp. “Open to me, golden rose, and I shall fill your sweet softness over and again until the joy of it floods you with me.”

  Diana found herself on her back, with the big man on top of her. His eyes glowed bright silver now as he bent his head to latch onto her breast, and pressed the head of his throbbing cock against her opening. It would be so easy to let him bury that beautiful erection inside her, and pump it in and out until she came all over him. Her hungry, empty pussy silently screamed for her to do it.

  But this wasn’t Raen. This was some kind of tattoo demon inside him. She didn’t understand what it was, or how it could be controlling him, but going along for the ride wasn’t an option.

  “You can’t make him do this,” she declared. When he raised his head, she pressed her marked palm against his heart, and felt the power seething inside him. “Let Raen be with me.”

  He took her mouth with his, and light shattered between them as his ink seemed to burst into a million tiny shards. The rush of power over her skin flung Diana perilously close to the edge of climax, but she held it back and gasped his name into his mouth.

  “You,” Raen gasped. He lifted his head and looked all over her face, and the strange light in his eyes dimmed. “’Tis me and the storm inside me, and you are what we want—to have you, to be inside you, to pleasure you until you shriek with delight.”

  A surge of wetness from her pussy crowned his cockhead, and she smiled up at him.

  “Then make me scream, Big Man.”

  Raen’s hands shook as he pushed them under her hips, lifting them as he breeched her and sank into her softness. He was so hard and wide that Diana had a moment of doubt. It had been almost forever since the last time she’d welcomed a man between her thighs. Raen slowed his penetration, his muscles coiling and his shaft swelling as he drew out an inch and came back into her, working his cock to stretch her around him.

  “Not my first time,” she assured him when she saw his expression. “It’s just been a while since–” The heated power of his ink slid down between them, and rushed over the juncture of their sexes. Then it jolted through his shaft into her pussy. “It’s inside me, it’s…oh, my god.”

  “We both fack you now, golden rose,” the spirit rasped through Raen, who shuddered over her before he followed the sensation with a deep, powerful thrust. “You are our woman tonight and always.”

  Diana arched under him as her body reacted to the double penetration. It felt as if there were two shafts inside her: one made of hard, satiny flesh and the other formed of light she could feel. When Raen plowed into her, the spirit cock seemed to dissolve, only to reform as he slid out. She’d never felt anything so mind-boggling or erotic, and then he reared up, impaling her on both the real and the phantom shafts as he lifted her and stood, supporting her with his hands clamped on her buttocks.

  She linked her hands behind his neck, unsure of what he meant to do, and uncaring of what it was. Then a drop of warm water pelted her face, and she looked up to see dark clouds laced with lightning spreading directly overhead.

  “Dinnae fear,” he said, tilting his head back as the first curtain of rain doused them both. “This night we are the storm.”

  With his tremendous strength he lifted her and then pressed her down, working her pussy on his shaft as he thrust deeper and faster. The hard fucking made her breasts bounce and her heart hammer, while the downpour caressed every inch of her with wet heat. She could feel his shaft thickening with every stroke, and her own clit pounding as if it meant to burst.

  “Tharaen,” she gasped. She blinked the water from her eyes and slid her hand into his soaked mane, urging his face closer to hers. “Kiss me. I want your mouth on mine when I come.”

  He plunged into her with one final, rough thrust, and then touched his lips to her mouth. As his tongue glided with hers, she tightened around him, feeling the surge of his seed even as her pussy fluttered with the rush of her climax. Then Diana came as she never had, with heat, and light, and wild, screaming ecstasy, the pleasure streaming from her clit to her nipples and spilling from her mouth to his in one enormous burst of delight.

  Raen held her plastered against his chest as he shook, his cock jerking inside her as he pumped her full of his cream. As he came with her the seething clouds began stabbing the sea and the beach around them with jagged, white-hot bolts of power, filling the air with sizzling energy.

  The big man fell to his knees as he jetted one last time into her, triggering another, softer orgasm that left Diana shaken and limp. Then they were holding each other on the ground, arms and legs entwined, and it was all she could do to simply breathe. She looked up to see the storm dissipating as quickly as it had formed, and weakly lifted her hand to wipe away the drops clinging to her lashes.

  “That was… There aren’t words for what that was.” She glanced at his face, and saw the jagged marks of his ink on his cheek, as if she had just imagined the last hour. “I want to meet your tattoo artist.”

  “You cannae.” He withdrew from her, and rolled away to fling an arm over his eyes.

  “I was joking. A little.” She pushed herself up with unsteady hands to look at him. “Hey. You just made me believe in magic, and I am not a magic-inclined gal. I even talked to your tattoos. I generally don’t have conversations with body ink.”

  “It shouldnae have happened.” He turned his head away.

  She felt so exasperated she wanted to thump him. “You’re alone in that opinion, Big Man. And you wanted it as much as I did. Wait. You mean the spirit getting into the s
pirit? That was pretty much every sex fantasy I’ve ever had. On crack.” When he frowned at her she chuckled. “That means I loved it. You, the spirit, the way you two cooperate. It was incredible.”

  “It hasnae ever done that.” He sat up and hunched his shoulders. “You ken naught of me, or I you, and yet we do this as if…” He stopped and shook his head.

  “You want to know about me? I don’t have relationships because I work too many hours, and I’m taller than most men. Guys in my time don’t like that. I have no family, but plenty of baggage. Back home I use my place only to sleep. I serve and protect the people because someone has to, I’m good at it, and hobbies bore me. Also, I take my time going after what I want, but I don’t give up. Even when I know it’s risky.” Diana tucked her arm through his. “Sound familiar?”

  His mouth hitched. “We are much the same.”

  “That, and we just had sex in a lightning storm, and neither of us paid any attention to it.” She grinned. “We are the same kind of crazy, pal.”

  Raen stood up, and helped her to her feet, taking a good hard look at her body while he did. As she walked over to get her clothes Diana stepped down on something sharp and swore.

  “Diana.” He came at once, scooping her off her feet and placing her atop a flat, smooth rock. “What is it?”

  “I think I cut my foot.” She grimaced as she propped her calf on her thigh to get a good look at it. “Oh, yeah. There’s blood.”

  “That we cannae have.” Raen retrieved his tunic, tearing off the sleeve and wrapping it around her foot. “You must take care with wounds here.”

  “I know you guys don’t have antiseptic, but a splash of whiskey should kill the germs,” she told him. “It’s not deep enough to need stitches.”

  “’Tis the blood that ’tis the danger here,” he told her. “The undead can smell spilled blood from miles away, and use any trail of it to track their victims. If they are starved, the scent alone will make them crazed. In that state they will all pursue the injured mortal like a pack of wolves with foam-mouth.”

  “Or hungry sharks.” Diana shuddered. “On second thought, thanks for the bandage.”

  They both dressed in silence, and Diana handed him the torch as they started back toward the stronghold.

  “I’d like to make small talk, but I suck at that,” she told him as they crossed the glen. “So can I ask you something that you’re probably not going to answer?” When he gave her a wary look, she said, “It’s okay. I know there’s a lot no one is telling me. I’m planning to interrogate Kinley about it as soon as she gets back from Druidville. This involves you.”

  The torchlight illuminated his face, which looked as if she’d kicked him somewhere painful.

  “I will answer if I can,” he said finally.

  “Tormod mentioned that you were married once. Actually, I pumped him for information mercilessly, and he caved in.” She stopped on the path and faced him. “What happened to your wife?”

  His jaw tightened. “I buried her in a meadow where she went to pick flowers. ’Twas Bradana’s favorite place.”

  On one level Diana felt relieved, and on another she felt sick.

  “How did she die?”

  “She drowned,” Raen said and looked up at the stars for a long moment. “I dinnae mean to be short with you. ’Tis yet painful to speak of her.”

  “I understand that, but there’s something else.” She nodded at the ridge that concealed the castle. “Does the entire clan live at Dun Aran? They don’t have houses of their own in the village or in the mountains, right?”

  “Aye,” he said, frowning. “What of it?”

  “You’ve got a couple thousand men living at the castle, but the only women there are me, Kinley, and the servants. I’ve seen no children at all. So where are all the wives and kids?”

  He smiled sadly. “We dinnae have families, Diana. The McDonnels cannae marry, or sire children, and…I cannae tell you why.”

  Chapter Eleven

  JUST AFTER DAWN Diana woke alone in her bed, and stared up at the new linen curtains the maids had hung. Her body still ached pleasantly from her wild night with Raen, but as soon as they’d returned to the stronghold he’d walked her to her room and left her to sleep alone. She suspected he needed time to process what had happened between them. She certainly did. But something else was bothering him. Maybe the memory of the wife he had buried in the meadow of flowers, the wife he’d somehow married when the rest of the clan couldn’t get hitched.

  That he felt guilty about her came through loud and clear, but Diana had also picked up on some anger. Why would he be mad about losing Bradana?

  Tormod came in with her breakfast tray as he relieved the guard Raen had left on her door.

  “Fair day to you, Red. Tell me you wrenched an ankle when you stole away last night, so I dinnae have to chase you across the glen.”

  “No sprains, but I stepped on a sharp rock.” She lifted and wiggled her bandaged foot for his inspection. “I won’t be running anywhere for a couple of days.”

  “So there are gods, and at last they smile upon me.” The Norseman gave her the once-over. “Neac said you and our seneschal returned sodding wet and looking as if you’d tussled.”

  “It rained. We tussled.” She tossed a pear to him from her tray before she took a sip from the steaming mug. “Soothing brew? Seriously? I just woke up.”

  “Mistress Talley heard of your escape. ’Tis meant to calm you. She imagined you fighting Raen tooth and nail as he dragged you back here.” His pale blue gaze shifted to her mouth. “I’ll wager you used other parts.”

  “You have a dirty mind.” And amazingly accurate powers of observation, Diana thought. “Is Raen going to get in trouble?”

  He considered that. “If you were unwilling, yes. We’re no’ permitted to force ourselves on wenches.” When he saw how she was looking at him he spread his hands. “’Tis how the Pritani are. I cannae make sense of it. Vikings havenae such rules.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” she said drily. “So when do the laird and lady arrive today? I need to talk to Kinley.”

  He shrugged and took a bite of the pear. “They will come when they wish.” He chewed and swallowed before he added, “We can go down and play draughts while you prop up your foot. You promised to teach me how to crown three in one game.”

  What Diana really wanted was to go and find Raen, and make sure he wasn’t in regret mode over last night, but she knew he started work before dawn.

  “If you’ll get me some of that spicy brew that clears out my sinuses, it’s a deal.”

  Her cut foot did hurt when she walked downstairs with Tormod, but Diana forgot about the pain as soon as she saw Raen standing and talking with a weathered-looking man in muddy pants and a dripping tartan.

  “Who is that guy?” she asked.

  “Naught but a courier from the mainland.” The Norseman peered at the stranger for a moment. “He wears the Lamont tartan. One of the laird’s friends sent him. He travelled by night when he might have sent a bird.”

  “Does that mean he’s got bad news?” she asked, and when he nodded she headed for Raen. When Tormod blocked her path she glared at him. “What if Kinley’s in trouble? I’m a cop. It’s the job.”

  “The laird said no speaking with outsiders.” He folded his arms. “I’ll haul you upstairs and shackle you to the bed post this time, Red. After last night, happily.”

  Diana eyed the entry to the kitchens, which was just behind where Raen and the man were standing.

  “Then let’s go get some of that brew I want.”

  “I will go.” He pointed to the draughts table. “You will sit and no’ move from that bench until I return.” When she started to argue he took her by the arm. “Sit here, or be chained to your bed. It matters no’ to me.”

  She jerked her arm free and stalked over to the bench seat. “You’re an ass.”

  “I’m your guard. ’Tis the job.” Tormod gestured to one of the sentries,
and pointed at Diana. “Watch her now.”

  As soon as Tormod went into the kitchens Diana stood, but the sentry stepped forward and shook his head, making her sit back down. Whatever message the Lamont courier had brought had Raen looking bleak. A flutter of flowing robes passed in front of her, blocking her view, and she looked up at Cailean’s calm face.

  “Fair morning, Lieutenant.” He sat down on the other side of the table. “I’m told you went sea-bathing last night. Is that how you injured your foot?”

  “No, I kicked a nosy druid into the ocean. It’s my new hobby.” She craned her neck to see around him, only to discover that Raen and the courier had disappeared. “Damn it. Now how am I going to find out what’s wrong?”

  “The Lamont clan sent word that the undead have taken the earl’s only daughter,” Cailean said, startling her. “If the laird and his lady dinnae soon return, Tharaen must lead a warband to the mainland.”

  Diana knew that the highlanders regularly engaged in undead battles, but the thought of Raen fighting vampires made her stomach knot.

  “Why don’t the druids do something about it? Can’t they cast a cooperation spell over the undead, and make them give up the kid?”

  The young druid looked as if she’d kicked him in the teeth.

  “Magic isnae a weapon, Lieutenant, and it shouldnae be used as such. The more powerful the spell, the more harm it can do, and it does. It does terrible things.”

  She had the feeling he was talking about something else.

  “Am I in for another truckload of obscure analogies that I’m not going to get because I’m eight hundred years younger than you?”

  Cailean’s mouth twitched. “I only meant to say that with your talent, you could help him.”

  Diana stopped watching for Raen. “My what?”

  “That power you told me you didnae have.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice to a low murmur. “That night you came to Dun Aran, did you feel the clan’s presence, or did you follow a trail of light?”