All while keeping his lips locked to her breast, gently suckling, he began to move his fingers between her folds. Isabelle gasped, and Eamon breathed against her chest. “Ye are wet for me, lass. That means ye are ready.”
“Ready?”
“Aye. For me tae enter ye.” His voice had gone low and thick, and his eyes were hazy with desire. She loved the tickle of his stubble on the soft skin of her breasts, and she wished he wouldn’t stop. He leaned up, and Isabelle spied the sinewy muscles covering his arms. Gently, he pushed aside her thighs with his hands.
“Now, it may hurt a little, lass, but then ye will feel nae more pain, I promise.” Isabelle nodded, keeping her eyes locked to his. She trusted this man. His eyes were kind as he looked down at her. She watched his cock quiver as it readied itself above her core, and then he leaned down and pushed himself into her in one fell motion. Isabelle cried out for a moment, all of her muscles tensing as her body tried to register what had just happened.
Eamon breathed next to her. “Ye are so tight, lass. Are ye all right?”
Isabelle nodded.
“I have desired ye for so long, lass, in more ways than one.” He kissed Isabelle lightly on the lips, and started to move, slowly rocking his hips into hers. With his initial thrust, she had felt a sharp jab of pain, but then with another, her muscles relaxed, and her hips rose to meet him. She smiled to herself dreamily, as waves of pleasure began to trickle through her, starting small, but rising with each thrust of his hips.
At first, their motion was slow and gentle, but then it became harder and faster. Their breath rose in tandem, and he kissed her lips while she held tightly to his back, allowing him to fill her deeply with each new thrust. The feeling of fullness that he gave her sent out increasing waves of ecstasy that made goosebumps rise on her skin. Never before had she known the like. Her sounds of pleasure filled the room, getting louder with each moment, as she was surprised with delight at each new feeling. The throbbing inside her was growing to a crescendo, and she knew it would come to a peak soon, but she was afraid it would burst and that she would lose all reason or control of her own body.
“Eamon!” she cried loudly, and in response, Eamon’s thrusts quickened, his strong muscled body focused only on giving her pleasure. Soon, she had reached her peak, and at that moment, she cried out, moaning as Eamon kept thrusting into her. Her mind was a blank, overcome with the physical sensation of her own enjoyment as she let go, succumbing to her climax. Her back was arched, and she shuddered underneath him as her muscles relaxed like warm, melted butter. While she trembled with satisfaction, Eamon sped up even more, finally groaning out his own pleasure as he spilled into her.
The two of them lay quietly for a moment, breathing loudly until Eamon shifted next to her. For a moment, only the sounds of their breathing, and the crackling of the fire filled the empty room. Isabelle lay back in sated exhaustion, feeling the continued tingles of pleasure sparking throughout her every muscle. After a pause, Isabelle said nervously, “I hope I did not wake anyone else. I never expected it to be so…”
Eamon grinned. “Pleasurable? Wonderful? Incredible?” He laid a light kiss on her lips. “Bonniest lass I have ever seen. Perhaps the loudest one too.” At Isabelle’s horrified look, Eamon laughed. “Come, let us clean ourselves up. Ye may feel sore tomorrow, but the bath will help.” He stood up and held her hand. He dipped into the bath at first, sighing as he sank into the water. He motioned for her to follow after him, and she did so, sinking beneath the hot water, and she laid her back against his chest.
He felt for soap on the ground and dropped it into the water, after rubbing his hands on it. The bath was soon filled with bubbles. Eamon slid his soapy hands over her arms. She giggled as he moved over her breasts, down her stomach and ending in her folds, rubbing gently.
Isabelle felt a lovely heaviness in her arms and legs and closed her eyes as she allowed him to move slowly over her skin, cleaning her. Soon enough, like she was being cradled and rocked, Isabelle fell asleep to the sound of the fire, droplets of water dripping into the tub, and the steady breath of a strong man.
The next morning, Eamon awoke to the soft sunlight coming through the inn window. His vision was fuzzy at first, but he blinked his eyes a few times at the form in the blankets next to him. At first, he thought he was in a dream, but then he remembered. He and Isabelle had made love the previous night. And a more passionate, heated experience he could not recall. He laid his hand softly upon her shoulder. She truly was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, and when their bodies had met in their dance, he had finally felt truly sated and content. He smiled as he watched her breathe steadily under the covers.
Then he remembered. Cutler. The men. The village. He stood up hurriedly and began to dress. After he had his breeches and kilt on, he rushed to Isabelle’s side and woke her gently. She scrunched her nose up at him as she awoke with frustration. “What is it?’ she said until she recognized him.
“Oh! I must have stayed the night. Oh no! What if someone sees us?”
“My thought exactly, lass. Now I suggest ye get that lovely rounded arse of yorn intae yer clothes and return tae yer room.” Isabelle nodded, wide-eyed, and stood to do just that. Eamon helped her with some of the laces in her bodice.
Their fingers worked quickly and a little awkwardly after being awoken in such a way. Isabelle rushed to the doorway, but Eamon pulled her back against his bare chest and took her mouth in his. Isabelle’s tense frame softened to his delight, but then he pulled away. “We must hurry, but I couldnae let ye leave without one more of those. Who knows what may happen taeday.”
Isabelle looked a little dazed, and while he hoped it was due to his kiss, he thought it was probably due to the fact that she had been woken hurriedly from a deep slumber. “Yes, who knows?” she said dreamily and then left the room, leaving Eamon alone to put on his shirt and grab his sword. He took his cloak and bag and rushed downstairs to find the other men, looking groggy and pained.
He stood before them and laughed, feeling stronger than he had in days. “Too much drink the night before?”
Lukas growled at him, and the rest of them looked back at him glumly. “Where is Sean, lads?”
“He has gone tae get the horses since we struggled tae move.” Errol groaned, and Eamon laughed anew. He knew it was not going to be a happy day, but he still felt as if the heavens had opened, and his path was laid before him. If he wanted to have another night like that with Isabelle, then he would have to fight for his life today to get that chance.
Sean returned, looking a little better after last night. He nodded in Eamon’s direction. “Come, the innkeeper has given us bread. Once the women are here, we must leave. The light has grown too strong. I know that Cutler will be on his way. I can feel it.” Sean looked grim again, and Eamon put his hand on his shoulder.
“We will find a way, brother. I know it.”
“You seem in a pleasant mood this morning, Eamon. More so than yer other men.” Sean glanced in their direction.
Eamon laughed. “Aye, I went tae bed soon after ye. I wasnae feeling well last night.”
Sean watched him critically. “But sleep has done well for ye, I see.” Both of them turned as Isabelle and Arya descended the stairs, cloaked and ready.
They passed the struggling men and walked towards Sean and Eamon. Eamon’s eyes found Isabelle’s, wondering what he would see there. There was a flash of heat and the image of her curved body under his popped into his mind for a brief moment, threatening to fill his body with desire once more. He turned away quickly and caught Sean’s eye, who watched him with a little amusement.
“Ladies. We are off tae ride now.” Sean handed them each a piece of bread. “We ride towards the village. We are too late already.”
Eamon yelled back to his men, “Come! We are off!”
They groaned in response and heaved their bodies towards the door. Sean whispered, “Here I thought these were warriors, brother? I fear for
our chances with them amongst our number.”
“Dinnae worry. Once they have a chance tae plunge their swords intae Englishmen, they will remember their energy.”
Once they were ready, the group rode away towards the dark forest that Eamon remembered. He shuddered at the thought. He hoped that they would not find Cutler in there, for it would be a very horrible place to die. It was far in the distance, but since it was within their sights, he felt a little bit of hope. It was too bad that they were so exposed in the morning sun as they took the path towards the trees. But, there was no other way in which to ride.
Isabelle felt soft and wonderful in his arms. He wanted to be able to talk to her in the light of day, to question her about what last night meant. With each beat of his hurried gallop, he knew that he wanted it to happen again. And again. He wanted all of her. Last night had only piqued his desire for her, and he realized that even though his body craved for hers with every fiber, he wanted more than that. He loved her passion, her intelligence, her fire. He realized then and there as they ran from her father, and she was held captive, that he was in love with her.
Cutler stood outside of the inn, looking at Donovan with his arms crossed. “So, Highlander. You finally broke and told us they were at a camp off of the river. I told ye every man has his price, and I shall say it again. But they were not there! You had better hope that they are near, or else there will be more to do to you before the end.” He motioned to his men to watch over a battered, bruised, and heavily burned Donovan while he spoke to the innkeeper.Cutler spied the young man’s missing pair of fingers, and it filled him with grim satisfaction.
He pushed open the door with such a force that it made the occupants turn in surprise. He grinned. Just what he wanted. A captive audience. “Innkeeper, I look for Highland men on the run,” he bellowed to the innkeeper. “They will have had two women with them.”
The innkeeper put down the glass. “Aye, I have seen them. But what will ye pay for it?” The innkeeper leaned over the counter, watching him with a wizened eye. Cutler grinned again. There were these types every now and again, who were bold enough to fight against him before they knew what he was truly capable of. In a flash, Cutler had the man held by his shirt collar and had placed the tip of a blade at his throat.
His voice had grown darker, more menacing. Ever since Isabelle was gone, he felt the anger quicker to rise. “Tell me not to push this further, innkeeper. Give me the information I desire, and then you will be safe. Where did they go?”
Chapter Seventeen
As they rode, one of the men yelled and pointed behind them. They turned their heads and could see thick smoke rising in the distance. Isabelle’s heart fell. She whispered to Eamon. “He comes! My father is on our tail. I know it is he. He is certain to have gone to the inn, asked the innkeeper of our whereabouts, and burned it as a reminder of his own power.”
She was on the verge of tears. After what had happened between her and Eamon last night, all she wanted was to be free of her father. Even if Eamon did not love her or return her feelings, she still couldn’t go back to the life she had before. She had to fight for something, anything, other than staying trapped with a man who only believed in hatred and blood. She had to help the Highlanders fight for freedom and find her own in the process.
Eamon put his arms around her and pushed Aine to ride harder and faster. “If ye dinnae wish tae go back tae him, lass, then I will fight tae the death tae keep ye with me.”
Isabelle’s heart skipped a beat as her mind took in the words. She didn’t know what to say, but her heart screamed ‘yes’ in reply. She closed her eyes and allowed the moment to wash over her, filling her with happy satisfaction, even if it was to be short-lived. “We just need tae make those trees, lass, and then, I hope that we can hide away from him. They are dark and dangerous.” Isabelle took hope in his confidence.
She looked ahead. The woods seemed close, but they were, in fact, quite distant, and she willed Aine to ride harder and faster than she ever had before. In her mind, she whispered, dear Aine, you are to save us now!
She smiled, trying to fill her heart with hope as their group sped towards their destination, but then she heard a sharp cry and saw one of the riders fall away. Her heart sank. “No!” she yelled, and the rest of the riders had to slow to see who it was.
Eamon yelled out once he saw it was Sean, who was barely hanging on to his horse. “Lukas! Grab him! He has been hit!” Isabelle could feel the power of his voice in her back as it rumbled through his chest. Lukas rode next to the horse, and Dirk followed on the other side, ready to take the horse’s reins when necessary. To Isabelle’s relief, Lukas successfully pulled Sean onto his own horse’s back. Sean was crying out with pain, and Isabelle could see blood seeping from a wound in his leg. It was an arrow that was sunken in deep inside of his calf.
She turned to Eamon. “They will be close! Too close. We must not ride to the village then. Is there nowhere else to go to for protection?” Her eyes moved back and forth, but she could not find anything or anywhere to turn to. It was an open road.
Eamon’s whole body was stiff, but once Sean was safely with Lukas, their speed returned. Eamon led the way, turning off the road and down into a sharp valley that led its way along the side of the dark forest. Aine’s hooves pounded heavily into the soft earth, and Isabelle clung to the hope that they could make it. She trusted Eamon with her entire being, even though he did not disclose where they were going. But in a short moment, they arrived outside the large stone walls of a clan village.
Eamon yelled at the gate, and it opened to him. They rushed inside, and Eamon jumped from the horse, pulling Isabelle off with him. He helped the men close the gate and shutter it as quickly as he could. He was heaving for breath, and the rest of the horses were glad to be at rest from a gallop. Isabelle rushed to Arya’s side, clinging to her hands. “It is he, Arya. He comes for us.”
Arya nodded, and everyone turned to see a groaning Sean being helped down from his horse by Lukas and Eamon. The bleeding had stopped, which was a relief, but Isabelle knew that it would resume once the arrow was dislodged.
Strange men rushed to their group. “What is this?” A man bellowed until he saw Sean and Eamon’s face. “Wilson, what have ye wrought upon us now?”
They turned towards their castle and called inside. Isabelle could only assume it was their laird for which they called. She followed her group of men into the large castle, as they carried Sean into the main hall. Eamon was still trying to catch his breath as he waited for the laird to make his appearance.
Soon the portly man arrived, his brow twisted in confusion and fear. “Who is it that puts my men into such a stew?” He squinted his eyes at Eamon’s face. “Aye, the Wilson brothers have come again. I thought ye were tae be in battle with that Lord Cutler of yorn. Why have ye come?”
He looked down to see Sean on the floor, writhing in pain. Eamon began, “I know ye didnae want tae help us, laird, but I come tae ask ye for protection. We have naewhere else tae go, or else our bodies would be strewn across the fields of yer land. Cutler chases us as we ride tae our village. My brother is wounded. We wouldnae have made it in time, and there is nae protection of walls there. Help us, laird!”
His voice was desperate as he looked deeply into Laird MacManus’ eyes. The older man was taken aback by the desperate tone in his voice. “Lad, I told ye nae tae bring trouble tae our lands. We wanted nae part in yer fight.”
“We didnae want tae bring ye in tae it. But yer walls will be strong enough. Cutler has nae the men that he had once.”
Laird MacManus stared down at a suffering Sean. “Men! Take him up tae one of the rooms. We shall look after him. I didnae want this, but I willnae suffer my own people tae be slaughtered on my very doorstep.”
Eamon’s face broke into a smile, and Isabelle wished she could hug the old laird. Eamon cried out, “May the Lord bless ye and keep ye, Sir. We will do our best tae fight off Cutler and his men without
any danger coming tae yer clan.”
Eamon followed Sean upstairs as he was carried to an empty room and laid on the bed. “Is there a healer among you?” He turned to see Isabelle and Arya behind him. Isabelle laid a hand lightly on his shoulder.
“I would like to offer my services for a time. I can assist him if you like. Arya is quite good at these kinds of things. We could care for him until a healer has been found.” Eamon smiled and nearly drew her into his arms, but hesitated once he realized they were not alone.
Eamon turned to one of the MacManus men that surrounded them. “Search for a healer if you will.” The man scowled at first. “I know you do not desire our presence here, but this man could be the key to our freedom, so run as fast as you can!” The man left, and it was only the three of them left, watching over a pain-stricken Sean.
“I shall ask the maids if they can bring hot water and cloth,” Arya said quietly, leaving the room without either Eamon or Isabelle noticing. Eamon watched as Isabelle laid her hands gently on Sean’s injured leg.
Taken by her Highland Enemy: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance (Deceitful Lassies Book 2) Page 14