by Hyman, F. S.
Chapter 4
“Me thinks I need to go to bed,” Derek said in his deep baritone, getting unsteadily to his feet.
Colm chuckled. They had been sitting up drinking with the other men after a hard day of training.
“I’m sure Eilidh will be glad to have ye in her bed tonight.”
Derek grunted. He stumbled toward Eilidh’s room. He may have drunk more than he should have, but they were entertaining the men from Dunwiche. Broc had turned out to be a good man. He and Derek had hit it off, so Derek had stayed longer with the men than he normally would have.
Derek pushed the chamber door open. He had to lean against the wall for a moment before he removed his claymore and dirk. He sat in a chair and struggled to pull off his boots. He looked toward the bed. Eilidh did not move. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. He caught his kilt before it hit the floor and flung it over a chair.
He stood up and wobbled over to the bed. Eilidh was turned away from him. He lifted the covers and slid into bed. He moved closer to Eilidh’s warm body. He realized she had on a thin shift. He grunted. She usually did not wear anything to bed. He would remedy that soon. He ran his hand down her side. She felt good, even through the thin material of the garment. Better than he remembered. She smelled of heather and honey. It must be a new soap she was using. She usually smelled earthy.
Derek buried his face in her hair. She shifted slightly, but did not awaken. He kissed the nape of her neck, and for some reason he felt like running his tongue along its contours. He felt her shiver beneath his touch. He smiled.
Shifting yet closer, he fit his erection to her bottom. It seemed to fit there perfectly. He had always enjoyed bedding Eilidh. Somehow, tonight, it seemed different. Something about her pulled at him and he wanted everything she could give. And, strangely, he wanted to give everything in return. That thought was like cold water splashing over him. What was he thinking? Eilidh was a good bed partner, but he had never felt anything but lust for her. He must have drunken much more ale than he thought. He started to rise from the bed, when Eilidh shifted in her sleep and her bottom pushed against his flagging manhood. The sensation instantly brought him back to attention.
Derek moved back to her and again ran his hand down her soft curves. She moaned a little and pushed back against him. He kissed her shoulder and her back. He brought his hand up and ran it gently down her back. She shivered again at the touch. He brought his hands to her hair. It was so soft and thick. He could not remember Eilidh’s hair being so soft to the touch. Then again, he had never really allowed himself to touch it. But somehow he could not resist. The honey smell was strongest there, so he buried his face in the soft tresses.
He usually took Eilidh fast and hard, but, tonight, he wanted to savor the experience. For some reason, he wanted to feel this time. Something besides lust. That made him pause but he could not stop the thundering in his veins. He wanted what was happening, even if it was just this one time.
Derek pushed Eilidh to her back and covered her mouth with his. She gave a startled gasp but then she softened and tentatively began to respond to his heated kiss. Derek was confused at how different Eilidh tasted. She usually tasted of ale and mint. Tonight she tasted of strawberries and woman. He took a deep sip of her lips, and her response in return only added to the fire that was already building inside him. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue in her mouth like he longed to thrust into her body.
Eilidh’s arms reached up and wrapped around Derek’s neck, and the slight touch of her playing in the hair at the nape of his neck almost sent him over the edge. He did not remember Eilidh’s touch ever igniting that type of response from him. It was strange, but not unwelcome. He found he liked the new sensation.
Derek released Eilidh’s lips and kissed her jaw and then her throat. The rapid pulse on her throat attracted his tongue, and he ran his tongue slowly against it. Eilidh moaned. She wiggled her body against his. He reigned in his control so that he could savor the sweetness of Eilidh’s body. Starting at her neck, he ran his hands slowly down to her shoulders, and then lower to cover one of her breast. It fit perfectly in his hand, and the nipple grew taut as he ran his palm across it. Eilidh gasped again, pushing her breast into his hands. Her soft short breaths fueled him on. He moved to the other breast and did the same thing. Irritated with the barrier between them, he reached down and pulled Eilidh’s shift over her head. Once that was done, he swooped down and took her breast in his mouth. She cried out and clung to his head making him take her nipple deeper in his mouth.
Derek tore his mouth away from her breast and consumed her mouth again. He, hungrily, took what she so freely gave. Eilidh lifted her lower body to his erection, begging for him to take her. It was getting harder for him to resist. He let his hand wander to the soft curls that covered her secret warmth. He slid his finger along the outer edges of her sheath. She shuddered in his arms and cried out again. His finger entered the folds of her warmth and ran up and down, pausing at the erect nub at the top. She was hot and wet for him. He plunged a finger inside and felt her tighten around it. He could imagine how it would feel when he plunged his manhood inside.
Gritting his teeth, Derek pushed his finger in and out until her felt Eilidh’s body shake with her release. While she was riding the waves of ecstasy, he positioned himself at her opening and plunged inside. She was so tight and warm he almost came before he had a chance to savor the feeling. He began to move slowly within her. Eilidh had stiffened, but her body began to relax and she moved with him. As the tension built, he rode her faster until he could hold back no longer and exploded within her. It was the most powerful climax he had ever had.
He slumped against Eilidh and was immediately asleep.
§
Annabelle slowly opened her eyes. It was dark in the room. She could see the dying embers of the fire in the fireplace. A small smile flitted across her face. She had had the most amazing dream. It had almost seemed real. She tried to stretch and froze. She realized that there was something pinning her down. She fought to hold down the panic that tried to overtake her. She needed to keep her wits about her if she was to get out of this situation. She had learned that while training with her best friend, Angus. Although she could not do all of the training, she was able to learn to use a dirk and ride a horse like any warrior, maybe better.
She took a deep breath and tried to determine what exactly held her down. It was heavy, and when she pushed against it, it was solid like a wall. Annabelle realized that what she was touching was skin and muscle. She gasped.
She fought panic again. Her heart was beating out of her chest. What had she done? It hadn’t been a dream? No wonder it had felt so real, so wonderful.
The man turned his face towards her. His nose was buried in her neck and she could feel his warm even breath. What could she do? If she screamed, that would bring the whole keep to her chamber. If that happened…
She took a calming deep breath. How did she extricate herself from under this man without waking him? Who was he? She did not remember having an assignation with anyone. All of her father’s men were afraid to approach her. Not only because her father was fierce, but because of her own temper. She could be just as fierce as her father. And she hadn’t felt anything besides sisterly love toward any of them.
She decided to try to slide from under the man. He seemed to be sleeping deeply. He was laying mostly on her right side, so she moved her free left leg toward the edge of the bed. Her foot found the edge so she hooked her ankle over as leverage. Then she reached with her left hand and gripped the edge. As gently as she could, and as much as her strength allowed, she tried to pull herself from under the man. Although she pulled with all of her might, she did not feel like she had moved an inch. The man seemed to weigh a ton, and she could not budge.
She stopped and regrouped. There had to be a way to move him so that she could get up. Planting her left foot on the mattress, she decided to try to slide hi
m off of her by lifting from the bed. She put her hand against his shoulder. That was a mistake, because she was instantly distracted by his smooth skin and muscles. She shook herself to come back to reality.
Putting her mind to it, she pushed up with her hips as she pushed his shoulder with her hand. At first she did not think it was working, but after a moment she realized that he was more on the bed than on her. She pushed again and was finally free. She lay for a moment catching her breath. She looked toward the man. His breathing was still even and he hadn’t stirred.
She rolled to her side and gently left the bed. On a gasp, she realized she was naked. She stayed crouched on the floor until she was sure that he hadn’t awakened. When she heard no movement, she stood up. As soon as she did, she felt very light-headed. She quickly clutched the table that was beside the bed to steady herself. She put her hand over her face and took slow breaths. That helped some, but she still felt wobbly.
Once she felt a little steadier, she looked around for something to cover up with. In the dying light, she saw what looked like her shift lying on the floor. She bent down and retrieved it, then slipped it over her head. She walked over to the fireplace to stoke the embers on the fire and added a log.
“Eilidh, come back to bed,” she heard a deep voice say.
Annabelle jumped. She looked toward the bed. She hadn’t heard any movement from it. Who was Eilidh? She slowly turned away from the fireplace and bumped into a wall of solid chest. She put her hand out to brace herself. Her hand connected will smooth skin and hard muscle. She quickly drew it back and gasped. In doing that, she stumbled back and found herself wrapped in strong arms.
Derek had awakened and reached for Eilidh and found her place empty. He had lain still to clear some of the grogginess from his head. His head slightly pounded. He really had drunk more than he should have. He heard Eilidh over by the fireplace and slipped out of the bed to fetch her.
He remembered the force of their lovemaking earlier and found that he wanted to repeat it. She was so warm and soft in his arms.
“Come. Back to bed with ye,” he said pulling her back to the bed.
She stiffened in his arms.
“Who are ye? And why are ye in my bed?” she asked him, pulling away.
Derek stiffened. Eilidh’s voice was different. He looked down at her, but her face was in shadow. The glow from the fire was behind her.
“Ye ken who I am, Eilidh. Come back to bed,” he said again in confusion. He vowed to cut back on the ale.
“Who is Eilidh? Who are ye?” she asked
Annabelle could see the man’s face clearly by the light of the fire. He was magnificent. His blonde, almost white, hair and startling grey eyes all contrasted against tanned skin. She knew he spent a great deal of time outdoors. His eyes looked at her in confusion. She was sure that her eyes mirrored that emotion.
Derek turned Eilidh so that her face was no longer in shadow. He took a startled breath. This was not Eilidh. He scanned the room and realized he was in his bedchamber.
“Calm yerself, lass. I am Derek MacDougal,” he said, watching her reaction.
Derek could see the confusion in her eyes.
“Derek?” was all she said.
“Aye.”
Annabelle looked at him. He was completely naked. Her face colored, but she found she could not look away from him. She remembered how his skin felt when she had touched his chest. Its warmth still seared her palm. She tried to swallow but her throat was dry.
She did not think she knew who he was. Was she supposed to know him?
Derek was taken aback by the brilliance of her eyes. They were huge and the most amazing green he had ever seen. Her hair was red, and looked like it was fire itself against the light from the fireplace. Her perfect, full lips were parted, and he suddenly remembered the intoxication he had felt from drinking from their depths. He wanted to taste them again. He bent his head to do just that. She slapped him.
“What are ye doing in my bedchamber?” Annabelle demanded. The fire in her eyes matched her hair.
Derek growled and threw her across his shoulder and tossed her on the bed.
“Doona ye ever do that again!” he demanded through clenched teeth. His face was as hard as steel.
“I will do as I please! Why are ye in my bedchamber?” she demanded again, coming up on her knees to face him defiantly.
“Yer bed? ‘Tis nae yer bed. ‘Tis mine,” he said.
“Ye lie! Ye are in my bedchamber and I demanded that ye leave immediately!” she said pointing toward the door.
Derek gave a mirthless laugh. He had never met any woman who had the defiance he saw in every line of her body. He lit a few candles so that he could see her clearly.
“’Tis my bedchamber ye are in, lass, and I will stay,” he said coming toward her.
Annabelle wavered. He was stronger than her, and she did not have a weapon to defend herself. She decided she would show him that he did not frighten her. She stood her ground, even as his face was inches from hers.
Derek studied the strength he saw in her eyes. She was definitely not like any woman he had ever met, except for his mother.
“Look around ye, lass. Ye will find that this isnae yer bedchamber,” he said with a smirk. His eyes never leaving her face.
Annabelle reluctantly removed her eyes from his face and looked around the chamber. She saw a table and chair, a stand with a basin and shaving equipment, the bed was huge and was not the same fur that covered her bed. Annabelle was even more confused.
Annabelle took a deep breath and looked back at Derek. She had to remain calm although she felt as if she would have apoplexy.
“How did I get here?” she asked him.
Derek almost smiled.
“We found ye,” he said simply.
“Found me? What do ye mean?” she asked him more confused than ever. And more afraid. What was going on here?
“Just what I said. And now ye are in my bed,” he smiled down at her.
“Ye are lying! What is going on?” she suddenly shouted at him. She felt light headed, but she fought it.
“Nay, lass. I amnae. Ye are in my bedchamber. We found ye crumpled in a clearing not far from here,” he said calmly.
“It canna be! Why would I be in yer bedchamber? I am betrothed to another! I doona ken ye! I have to leave!”
She scrambled from the other side of the bed and ran toward the chamber door. This was a mistake! She would never do such a thing. Even though she did not want to marry the man her father had chosen for her, she would not betray him. She had to go find her maid, Aggie. This had to be some kind of a trick. A test. Yes, a test. Someone was testing her loyalty. Had she failed? She stopped and looked down at the shift she was clad in. She could not go into the hall like this. She turned and looked around for more clothing.
Derek watched her stomp toward the door. The sway of her hips and the jiggle of her breasts through the thin shift made him remember the intense reaction he had had to her as he loved her. He felt his groin stirring at the thought. Her shoulders were stiff and she looked around for something more to put on. He watched in amusement.
“Here, lass. Put this on,” he said, handing her one of his shirts.
She looked at it dubiously, but realizing she had nothing else, she quickly donned it. It came well past her knees. She looked delectable. She turned from him and headed back to the door.
“Where do ye think ye’re going?” he asked, curious despite himself.
She turned and glared at him. She saw the amusement in his eyes. He thought this was funny? She could be compromised, and he thought it was amusing.
“I am so glad ye find this so amusing. But in case ye did not understand me the first time, I am betrothed, and if what happened here is what I think is what happened, then I am in big trouble,” she said turning again to the door and pulling it open.
Through his semi-ale soaked mind, it suddenly penetrated what she said. He ignored most of her sentenc
e and focused on one point. She was betrothed, not married. Derek frowned. She kept saying betrothed. His head tilted to the side as he watched her looking up and down the hall to make sure no one was about.
“Wait a minute, lass,” he said grabbing her arm. She snatched it away, but turned to him.
“What is it?” she asked, clearly exasperated.
“Ye are betrothed. Who are ye betrothed to?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Was that really important?
“Laird Harold of clan McInnis.”
Derek smiled at her. She did not remember that she was married. She also did not remember the events that led to her being at Dunkirk.
“Aye, lass,” he agreed.
Annabelle looked at him warily. Why was he smiling? Why was he standing there completely naked? Her eyes traveled down his body of their own volition. He was truly magnificent. He was toned and muscled everywhere, from his shoulders to his powerful thighs. His manhood lay dormant against his thighs, and judging by the size of it at rest… She had to squash the tingling in her body at the thought. Had it been a dream? She was betrothed to another. She shook her head and went back to searching the hallway.
Derek cleared his throat to get her attention again.
“Again I ask ye, where are ye going? Ye are at Dunkirk.”
“I am going to find my maid, Aggie. I’m sure she can clear this all up. Like why we are here instead of at Kinloch, and what I would be doing in yer bedchamber,” she snarled at him.
“I am sorry to disappoint ye, lass, but yer maid isnae here,” Derek smirked.
“Isnae here? Where is she?” Annabelle asked incredulously.
“I doona ken, but here she isnae,” his smiled broadened.
He watched the confusion flit across her face. Then her eyes flashed with anger.
“Pray, explain,” she said quietly.
Derek fought the urge to laugh. For some reason, having her demand answers from him was amusing.
“Weel, like I said. We found ye on our way to Bondlach keep.”
“We?” she asked suspiciously.