Highland Lover

by Hannah Howell

  “And I have ne’er seen anything as fine as ye lying here upon the moss with the sun gilding your soft skin.”

  He kissed her when she started to protest his flattering words. It stung a little that she doubted his words, but he understood. Her feeling that she was no beauty was an old one, bred somewhere in her past. It could be because of things said or done, or even born of her own fears and concerns, but it was set hard. It would take more than a few kisses or his lovemaking to banish such doubts. He would give her passion and, he decided, he would give her confidence in herself. Even if she did not stay with him—and the mere thought of that gave him an odd, sharp pain—he would be certain that she left him sure of her own beauty and sensuality. It was the least he could do for the gift she was about to give him.

  Alana ran her hands over his body as he trailed kisses down her throat. She could not believe how good he felt. As a healer she had seen many a male body, but she had never felt such a craving to touch one before. The feel of his warm skin beneath her hands, the movement of his muscles as he shifted in her arms, and even the faint roughness of a scar beneath her fingers all delighted her and fed her desire.

  When he covered her breasts with his big, lightly calloused hands and kissed the spot between them, Alana closed her eyes and lost herself in the pleasure of his touch. The hot, damp brush of his tongue over her aching nipples made her shudder and tighten her grip on his arms. A cry that was more delight than shock escaped her when he drew the hard tip of her breast deep into his mouth and sucked. The pleasure speeding through her body was so intense Alana was surprised she did not swoon. Instead, she slid her fingers into his thick, long hair and held him in place, silently urging him on as he began to feast upon her breasts.

  He murmured soft, coaxing words against her skin as he stroked her belly, but Alana was not sure what he was saying. Then he slipped his hand between her thighs, and she tensed. By the time she could grasp the words needed to protest such an intimacy, she no longer wished to do so. It was a shocking intimacy but with each caress, her passion grew. All the desire she felt for him seemed to flow downward, pooling in that place he pleasured and tormented with his long fingers. Alana heard herself gasp and then moan softly when he slid one long finger inside her. Even as he began to kiss her, his tongue moving in her mouth in perfect rhythm with the finger he moved in and out of her, her body loudly clamored for more. The way he placed a second finger inside her only eased that growing need for a moment.

  “Gregor,” she cried as he returned his kisses to her breasts, “I need.”

  “Aye, I ken it, lass. I can feel your need.” He removed his fingers, praying he had readied her enough to ease the pain he would soon have to inflict upon her. “So hot and wet,” he whispered against her ear as he settled himself between her thighs and slowly began to enter her. “Wrap these bonnie legs around me, dearest.” He groaned softly when she obeyed his hoarse command and he felt the soft skin of her inner thighs rub lightly against his hips.

  Although she still felt the heat of desire in her veins, Alana also felt an uncomfortable stretching as Gregor pushed into her slowly, almost cautiously. “Ye are a verra large mon, Gregor,” she whispered, trying not to tense for she strongly suspected that would only make it more difficult for both of them.

  “Thank ye.”

  She laughed and then yelped as he abruptly thrust himself deep inside of her. In an instinctive gesture, she placed her hands upon his chest and tried to push him away, to put an end to the sting and discomfort he was causing her. He kissed her ever so gently and then lightly rested his forehead against hers. Alana realized he was waiting for her discomfort to ease, for her body to adjust to this intrusion. There was a fine tremor in his body as he fought to hold himself still inside her. She wrapped her arms around him and realized that her pain was already fading. For a moment, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the fact that she was now one with Gregor, that they were now as close as two people could be. The last of her pain slipped away and she felt her desire return. She looked at Gregor, at his tightly closed eyes and gritted teeth, and smiled. It was probably time for her to end his suffering.

  Gregor wondered if this could drive a man insane. He was exactly where he had ached to be for over a fortnight, buried deep inside Alana. Feeling her tight heat around him was pure bliss. Not being able to move now that he was there was pure agony. He was sure it was the sort of torment that could bring on madness. Since she was not moving, he feared he had caused her a lot of pain, perhaps even enough to make her heartily regret saying aye. He slowly opened his eyes and caught her staring at him, a faint smile curving her kiss-reddened lips.

  “Ah, ye are done with your wee nap, are ye?” she asked.

  “Wretched lass.” He propped himself up on his forearms. “I hurt ye.”

  “Aye, a wee bit. ’Tis gone now.”

  “Thank God.”

  He kissed her even as he began to slowly move inside her, thrusting gently as if he feared she would break. Alana wrapped her legs more firmly around him and quickly began to meet his every thrust, letting her body’s greed guide her. Soon she wished him to be less gentle, less carefully controlled in his movements. Her whole body seemed to be tensed on the brink of some unseen edge. Alana moved her hands down Gregor’s back and grasped his taut buttocks, trying to push him deeper inside her. That brought a deep groan out of him and suddenly his movements grew fiercer and less measured.

  Gregor muttered something against her neck that sounded vaguely like an apology, but Alana paid it little heed. Her body felt as though it was reaching for something, although she did not know what. And then she felt all the taut need inside of her shatter, a sweet fire spreading throughout her body. She called out to Gregor, wanting him to share it with her. She could feel him with her a heartbeat later, his hoarse voice shouting out her name as the warmth of his seed flooded her womb. Alana clung to him, holding him deep within her, as she gave herself over completely to the pleasure he had brought her.

  Gregor slumped against Alana, resting most of his weight upon his forearms. He was feeling both stunned and quite proud of himself. He had fulfilled his promise to bring her pleasure but was astounded by how much she had brought him. In all the times he had been with a woman he had never felt such passion, such fire, and such complete satisfaction. Gregor could still feel the thrill of his release running through his body. He felt wrung out, but knew he could be eager for more very soon.

  This was what he had been searching for in the arms of all those other women. He had finally given up the search and decided to seek a little land and coin through marriage instead of some great passion or bonding. With Alana, he thought, he had found the richness of feeling that made Ewan and Sigimor such happy men. This was what he wanted, what he needed, and what he intended to have.

  Words crowded into his mouth and he bit them back. He had no right to speak of a future yet. And, he realized, after having nearly betrothed himself to the wrong woman once, he was feeling hesitant to offer any promises to another. Gregor felt a strong need to be sure, absolutely sure. Alana certainly felt right, but that could be passion clouding his reason. He would be cautious this time. There was also the fact that, if he did offer any promises to Alana, he did not want her finding out about Mavis afterward. That would surely make Alana think he was far too free with such words and that his promises meant nothing.

  Slowly easing himself out of her embrace, he turned onto his side and tugged her hard against him. She still had a hint of pleasure’s blush upon her face and her brown eyes were rich with warmth as she looked at him. When she turned onto her side and kissed his chest, he felt a renewed twitch of desire.

  “Is there any pain, love?” he asked, lightly stroking her hip.

  “Nay, just a wee bit of a sting and, weel,” she blushed, “I am a wee bit sticky.”

  Gregor laughed and stood up. He pulled her to her feet and ignored her blushes as he looked her over. There were a few red marks upon
her breasts caused by the rough scrape of his emerging beard and only a little blood upon her thighs. He picked her up in his arms and walked into the river. It was sharply cold, but the day was warm and made the water feel almost pleasurable. Setting Alana down on her feet in the water, he used his hand to sluice water over her body and, ignoring her squeaks of protest, between her thighs.

  “Ye have no respect for a person’s modesty,” she complained as he dragged her out of the water and dried her off with his shirt.

  “None at all,” Gregor agreed cheerfully and tugged her shift on over her head.

  Alana watched him don his plaid and sighed. The lovemaking had been all she could have hoped for, but the afterward was very disappointing. Gregor had held her and gently stroked her skin as they had regained their senses, but there had been no love words. She sternly told herself that it was much too soon, that men were very slow to recognize any feelings beyond lust and an easy affection, but she was not sure she believed that excuse.

  “Ye are looking verra serious, lass,” he said quietly as he moved to stand in front of her. “Regrets?”

  “Nay,” she said and meant it.

  “Good.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Best we get back to camp ere Charlemagne steals your fish.”

  Seeing the cat creeping up on her fish, Alana hurried over to put her catch safely into her sack. She tugged on the rest of her clothes and walked back to the camp with Gregor. Although the lack of love words troubled her, she found that his easy manner made it easier for her to feel comfortable with him despite what they had just done. On the bank of the river. In the full light of day. Alana shook her head in amazement at her own daring.

  As she readied the fire, Gregor cleaned the fish. She sat and watched them cook as he went on a hunt for more wood. It all seemed so normal, so ordinary, that she felt a little dazed. It was hard to believe that just a short time ago she had lost her maidenhead on the riverbank. Only a faint soreness between her legs told her it had not all been just some strange dream. Alana wondered if this was how all lovers acted, their lives as normal as everyone else’s except for brief, heady moments of passion.

  Nay, she thought, there should be more. She doubted Gregor bedded down with virgins every day of the week. There should have been a compliment or two if nothing else. It was almost as if he was purposely saying as little as possible, although she could not think why he would do so. She supposed she could just ask him how he felt, but she shied away from such a direct approach, fearing his answer.

  She had said nothing, either, she reminded herself. There had certainly been a lot of words dancing on her tongue, but they would have come straight from her heart and she did not believe Gregor was ready to hear them. Alana had made love with Gregor because she loved him, but she knew men did not have to feel so deeply when they bedded a woman. Gregor lusted after her, of that she had no more doubt, but she needed so much more from the man. From tales the other women in her family had told her, getting that more from a man could take some time. Alana hoped she had the patience.

  Gregor struggled to keep the conversation between him and Alana light as they ate the fish she had cooked, almost too light to be interesting. He knew he was acting as if nothing momentous had happened down by the river, but he was still too confused to trust himself to speak of all that had passed between them. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was troubled by how he behaved, but he needed time to find a safe middle path to walk with her. Although he did not want to offer her promises or vows of love, neither did he wish to appear so unmoved by what they had shared that she was hurt or, worse, withdrew her favors.

  When they climbed beneath the blankets, Gregor could feel the chill in her begin and knew he had to do something. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, relieved when her brief resistance quickly melted and she returned his kiss. As he reached down to stroke her slim thigh, he kissed her ear and felt her shiver.

  “Ah, lass, my bonnie wee Alana, ye do shake a mon to his roots,” he murmured as he kissed the hollow at the base of her throat.

  “Ye didnae appear verra shaken,” she felt compelled to say.

  “And that didnae seem odd to ye? Wheesht, do ye think I ravish virgins upon riverbanks every day?”

  She smiled faintly as she stroked his arm, realizing that she had been so caught up in her increasingly morose thoughts that she had not even noticed he had stripped off all his clothes before joining her in their rough bed. “Weel, nay. From what little I have heard, most men avoid our ilk.”

  And they both knew why, he thought, for taking the maidenhead of a wellborn virgin was often a quick route to the altar, but that was a subject he desperately wished to avoid. “’Twas a wondrous gift ye gave me,” he said softly, “and I am nay speaking of that wee shield of your innocence. Ye gave me fire, lass, a passion more fierce and satisfying than any I have e’er tasted. Sweeter, too. I did fear that I had hurt ye badly, especially when I grew so rough near the end.”

  “Nay, ye didnae really hurt me, nay more than was necessary. And I didnae find ye rough at all.”

  “’Tis good of ye to say so, but I ken weel that I failed to be as gentle with ye as I should have near the end.”

  Alana lightly trailed her fingers over his chest. He sounded disgusted with himself. She suspected a man like Gregor did not like to lose control, and she was sure he had. Although she found it unsettling to speak of the act itself, she could not leave him thinking he had hurt her or been too rough. She had savored those final moments when his desire had possessed him so completely, just as hers had done to her. It had been exactly what she had needed and would undoubtedly need again. She did not want some well-practiced minstrel in her arms concentrating on each move he made instead of on her and on the pleasure they could share. She wanted Gregor, just Gregor, even if that meant rough and greedy.

  “I rather liked it when ye were a wee bit rough,” she said softly, daring a quick glance at his face before fixing her gaze upon his chest. “’Struth, I wanted faster and harder.”

  She was a precious jewel, Gregor thought, as he tilted her face up to his and kissed her. “Or slow and gentle?”

  “Any way ye wish it ’tis what gives ye pleasure, for yours is mine.”

  “Tell me, my sweet treasure, are ye sore?”

  “Nay. I told ye, ’twas just a wee sting and it has long since faded.”

  “Good, for I feel suddenly compelled to make love to ye again.” He started to remove her shift.

  There was an odd note of tension in his voice, but Alana decided it was due to his desire. She could feel his erection brushing against her leg as he undressed her. He still had not spoken of love, but she no longer felt so uneasy. From all that he had said, he had suffered from the same sense of awkwardness that she had. His words had not carried the taint of empty, well-used flattery, either. Such open expressions of his desire and how much pleasure she gave him would be enough for now, she told herself firmly and then turned all of her attention to the delight she could find in Gregor’s arms.

  Gregor held the back of a sleeping Alana close against his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He idly stroked her flat belly and smiled when she murmured his name in her sleep and briefly rubbed her taut little backside against his groin. He should be exhausted, such was the ferocity of the passion they had just shared, but he could feel the willingness to start all over again tingle in his groin. She was making him insatiable, he mused, and grinned. Insatiable was good.

  He had taken her words to heart as the full truth and allowed himself to just give and take pleasure, his only concern being that Alana gained as much enjoyment from their lovemaking as he did. For once he had not thought carefully about every touch, every kiss, and every thrust of his body. It had been the most sensual interlude he had ever enjoyed. The fact that Alana was a very responsive woman, willing and eager to share in the passion that flared between them, only made it easier for him.

/>   As he watched Charlemagne curl up against Alana’s chest, Gregor yawned and closed his eyes. If the weather held fine, they would stay here for a day or two and revel in their passion. All too quickly life and all its trials would intrude again, from the need to find Alana’s sister to extracting himself from the courtship of Mavis. And he would extract himself from that tangle the moment he reached Scarglas, he vowed. Mavis was a good woman, but there was no passion there. He tightened his hold on Alana a little as he made himself another vow. No matter what the future did or did not hold for him and Alana, never again would he consider marrying for anything less than a true, fierce passion.

  Chapter 11

  Gregor was inside her. Alana woke slowly, a soft murmur of delight escaping her when she realized it was not a dream. One of Gregor’s hands was on her breast and the other was moving down her body. A flicker of surprise cut through her desire when she realized he had joined their bodies while still behind her. Then his clever fingers found that spot between her legs that could drive her utterly mad and she lost all ability to think. Alana let passion grasp hold of her as tightly as Gregor did as he took them both to paradise.

  Light shivers of pleasure still rippled through her body as she stroked the arm Gregor had wrapped around her waist. She had not realized there were so many ways to make love. For the past two days, Gregor had taught her a great deal. Alana did not want to think about where he had learned such things, however. She was not fool enough to think Gregor had come to her as innocent as she had come to him, but she truly did not want to know exactly how much experience he had. It would be too easy to start comparing herself to all the beautiful women he had known before her. Beautiful women with big, lush handfuls for breasts and plump, rounded bottoms.

  Such thoughts quickly cooled the lingering warmth in her blood and she slipped free of Gregor’s hold. Hastily donning the shift he had removed from her last night, she grabbed her pack and sought out a private spot in the woods. Alana knew she had to stop allowing thoughts of other women to spoil the time she and Gregor had together. He was hers now. He might not be hers for as long as she wanted him, but for right now, she had to do her best to suppress the attacks of jealousy she kept suffering from. Since she had taken such a big risk, it was foolish to waste one single moment of whatever time she might have with Gregor worrying over women he had known before her.