Stolen by the Highlander

by TERRI BRISBIN

Then she felt him there and lifted her head as he pressed the hard ridge of his flesh into her. He met her gaze and watched her as he entered her, inch by inch, slowly stretching and burning and piercing her. Then, with one thrust he was as deep as he could be, and her body let go. He leaned down over her and kissed her mouth, possessing her there even as he joined with her.

  Filled with him, his tongue in her mouth, his flesh in hers, Arabella ached with need. When she shifted her hips and took him in deeper, she heard his groan and laughed. He leaned back and gaze into her eyes.

  ‘Ready, lass?’ he asked in the last moment before he began moving. His hips lifted and plunged, sending his flesh deeper and deeper, touching another place she’d never known existed within her and pushing her to more pleasure. When she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts, he laughed against her mouth, so she did it again and again.

  His flesh hardened within her and he withdrew until she cried out at the emptiness. Then he filled her with unrelenting strokes until her body fell over the edge of reason and into madness. She shattered around him, unable to stop the waves of pleasure from breaking through her. At the last moment of awareness, she felt his flesh harden as he spilled his seed within her.

  How long they lay, their flesh joined, naked and sweating, skin to skin, she knew not. She cared not. Her body hummed with a new awareness, every inch of her had been pleasured and touched, even places she’d never known before. But he had known how to reach them and touch them and taste them. And he had. After some time, he eased out of her and he moved to her side, drawing her close to him. Tucking her head against his chest, he held her as all the sensations seeped from her body, leaving her unable to move but feeling more alive than ever before.

  ‘Are you well?’ he asked in a quiet voice.

  She’d heard the women gossip about a maiden’s first time. They all spoke of the pain, but none had shared the truth about the pleasure. Probably to keep young maidens from seeking it.

  ‘I am...well,’ she said, rolling away and stretching her body against his. He laughed as he gathered her in his arms and held her close again.

  ‘I am glad.’ He kissed her gently then, rubbing his cheek against hers and entwining their fingers. He lifted her hand up and kissed that, too.

  Arabella lay there in wonderment of all that had happened between them. It did not take long for the passion to leach away and for guilt to enter her thoughts.

  ‘Regretting it now, Arabella?’ Brodie asked. When she met his gaze, he smiled. ‘Your expression changed just then. I could see it there.’

  ‘Regrets? Aye. You and this, nay,’ she answered, turning to face him. He entwined their fingers together then, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. ‘But many regrets.’

  She watched as his eyes darkened and wanted to banish the sadness that entered there. She did not wish to think about all the repercussions and consequences of this night and her actions. She wanted to savour this night because she knew it would all change at dawn and then over the coming days.

  But not now.

  Arabella lifted her hand and traced a line down his chest. The curls tickled the tips of her fingers as she swirled through them. If he understood her aim, he did not say, but his breathing changed as she moved inch by inch lower. His trews lay opened and loose and as she touched his belly with the back of her hand, that male part of him began to rise.

  ‘It’s a randy fellow,’ he said with a soft chuckle.

  That turned to a gasp as she slid her hand around the randy fellow and closed her fingers. He hardened within her grasp as she watched. Then his hips arched and the flesh surged in her hand, growing larger and harder within seconds. Brodie reached down and moved her hand away.

  ‘Did I hurt you?’ she asked.

  ‘Nay, Arabella. But I will hurt you if you let it have its way.’

  ‘Oh.’ She blinked at him, surprised at his arousal so quickly. She’d never spoken to her aunt about this, so it was new to her. So did this mean...?

  ‘Do you want to do this again? To me. With me?’

  The torrid kiss he gave her, taking her mouth and possessing and claiming it, should have been answer enough. The way his hardness rubbed against her belly as he pulled her closer was a clue. Then he took her hand and placed it back down there, guiding her fingers around his length and keeping his hand over hers. He rocked his hips, sliding into her grasp each time and her body remembered the feel of him deep within her.

  ‘Aye, I want to do this again,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘To you. With you. I have dreamt of many ways to have you, Arabella.’

  His next kiss stole her breath. But his next words stole her ability to do anything but allow him his way.

  ‘I have wanted you—’ his hand released hers and slipped between her legs ‘—for months now, lass. Since the day you heard my insult and ignored it. Since you smiled at me, truly smiled at me.’

  She could not help but wince as he touched that intimate place. He removed his hand, cursing under his breath much as his friend did and pulled away from her to stand. His breeches were still on, but they sagged down below his hips, giving her the most revealing look at that part of him that had joined with her, a part that showed the evidence of their joining. After tugging them up, he moved quickly around the chamber, gathering up items and bringing them to her. A basin of water, a cloth, some soap.

  ‘You need to be tended to, Arabella,’ he said as he placed them next to her on the plaid. Its dark colours and pattern hid what she knew must be there—her blood and his seed.

  ‘I can see to myself.’

  He nodded and walked over to the pallet, adding blankets and readying it. It took a few minutes to cleanse herself and when she handed the basin of bloodied water back to him, he walked outside and emptied it, remaining out there for several minutes.

  Unfortunately, in those few minutes, all the sadness of having but this one night with him struck her. They would both carry out their duties—her to her clan and him to his in spite of their exile of him.

  And they would never be together again.

  Arabella turned away and gathered her clothing from the scattered place on the floor where he’d tossed it and wrapped his plaid around herself.

  Her tears flowed.

  His arms wrapped around her before she knew he’d returned and she let his strength surround her. How long they sat like that, she did not know, but he never let go of her. When her tears were spent, she raised her head.

  ‘Would you like me to take you to Bradana’s, then?’ he asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs as he cradled her face in his hands. He stood and drew her up, her clothing held between them in a crumpled bundle.

  What she wanted was to stay at his side and never be parted from him. She wanted to lie in his arms every night for the rest of her life. And she wanted always to have him gaze upon her as he had just a little while past—as though she were the only woman he would ever love. But...none of that could or would ever be, so she shook her head and took what she could.

  ‘I would stay, if you will have me?’

  ‘They will know,’ he warned, nodding his head towards the outside of the cave. ‘They know.’

  This collection of people he’d gathered were a family and, like most, gossip travelled quickly. The women knew what would happen as soon as she’d left Bradana and Margaret behind to seek his cave. Dougal and the other guards would chatter quietly like old women at the well about being sent away. Other than the children who lived here and, hopefully, her cousin, everyone would be very aware that she’d lain with him this night.

  And though she’d like to stay with him all night for purely selfish and intimate reasons, she also had to give Alan time enough to sneak away without being seen. So the longer the guards were away from this area around the caves the better.

&
nbsp; ‘Ah, there’s regret come once more into your eyes, Arabella.’ He took her shift and began to hold it out for her, clearly expecting her to leave now.

  ‘As I said, not regret over what we did, but over what we will never do,’ she answered as she took the garments from him and tossed them aside. ‘And since they already know what has happened here, there is no need to pretend it did not.’

  Feeling a boldness brought on by knowing what pain awaited her on the morrow, she dropped his plaid and stood before him, naked but for her stockings, offering herself to him once more. He did not try to persuade her to leave this time. He closed the space between them with one step and gathered her up in his arms. Carrying her to the pallet, he laid her under the blankets there and slid next to her.

  So quiet was he that she thought he meant them to sleep, curled up next to one another, so she closed her eyes and allowed his body’s heat to warm her. As she drifted off, she remembered something he’d said to her and smiled.

  ‘In what ways do you wish to have me, Brodie?’ she asked.

  The reaction was immediate and very noticeable as his flesh rose, long and hard, against her buttocks and spine. He thrust once against her and then groaned.

  ‘Your questions will be the death of me yet, lass.’

  She rolled on to on her belly and leaned up on her elbows. He did look angry as he sometimes did when she battered him with a long line of her questions. Instead, his deep-brown gaze shimmered as he watched her.

  ‘We have but one night, Brodie. I would not want to leave with the regret that we did not do something we wanted to do. Especially since there can never be a repeat of this time together.’

  ‘Headstrong. Stubborn. Intelligent. Questioning. I cannot imagine that you sprang from Euan Cameron’s loins,’ he said. Then he shook his head. ‘Nay, I cannot say that’s true. I think you are exactly the same as him. Though I suspect the questioning part came from your mother.’

  She laughed then, for she remembered times when her father had cursed at her for some infraction or another with just those words. ‘I tried his patience. I suspect that is not done yet.’

  He took her hand in his and entwined their fingers—he seemed to like to do that. Then he kissed her hand. ‘Aye, lass, I suspect you will try him in the coming weeks.’

  They lay in silence just like that, touching, barely, but closer than she’d ever been to a man. It hurt to know that, come morning and over the next days, their lives would separate. And he would probably not forgive her for helping her cousin. He might understand her actions but forgiveness was another matter.

  ‘So, you have avoided my question.’ She glanced down at his cock when she continued. ‘What ways do you wish to have me?’

  Arabella could not help but smile as his body reacted to her purposeful tease. And it did, filling and standing out from the rest of his body. His eyes turned fierce then and her own body flushed with heat. Her breasts swelled and the nipples tightened.

  ‘I will tell you, Arabella, just how I would like to have you,’ he said, leaning closer to her.

  Then he whispered scandalous things to her, about how he would join with her, where he would touch her, how their bodies would pleasure each other. His words were so vibrant and enticing that her body readied itself for him, shocking her as that place within her woman’s flesh moistened and ached and throbbed. She wanted him. She wanted him to do all of these things to her. She wanted to touch him.

  Finally she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his firm flesh as he had shown her before. His face grew intense and dark and he hissed as she slid her hand downwards to the base and then the rest of him she found there.

  What began as her curiosity and desire to learn his body, turned into something different as Brodie reciprocated, touching her as she did him. Whether her mouth or her breasts or legs or the place between her legs, he drove her to madness even as she drove him. But, there was still one question in her mind before she relinquished herself to pleasure. Something she did not understand.

  ‘How could I ride you?’ she asked, breathless from the way she shivered and trembled as he pushed her towards that moment of dissolution she knew awaited her.

  ‘Lass,’ he whispered, shaking his head. ‘You are too sore.’

  She might be, but right now her flesh ached for him to fill her. Ached for them to join. Ached to find release when he did within her. ‘Show me.’

  If her voice quivered or if she sounded too demanding, she cared not. If her behaviour was not what was expected of a lady, of a Cameron, it bothered her not. The only thing that would bother her was if she’d shocked Brodie. When he reached for her waist and guided her up and over him, she knew he was not shocked.

  ‘If this hurts, you must tell me, Arabella.’ She worried her lip and nodded. He told her to kneel over his hips and she did so, the position very similar to sitting on a horse. His flesh rubbed between her legs when she lowered herself to him.

  He pulled her down to him and they lay breasts to chest and hips to hips. As he kissed her, her hair fell around them like a curtain meant to keep the world away. Leaning over him, kissing him and feeling his hands kneading her legs and bottom, she rubbed her sensitive flesh against the ridge of his, sliding along it.

  ‘Now, ride me, lass,’ he said. Arabella sat back and slid down the length of him. ‘At your own pace.’

  She closed her eyes and took him in, inch by inch, gasp by gasp, never dreaming that something like this would be so...decadent and pleasurable. When she looked down at him, his gaze was filled with concern as she moved on him. Then that expression changed and he held her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as though to both hold her still and move her faster.

  Soon, he drove deeper and deeper within her and her body prepared for that release she knew he would bring to her. He touched her everywhere, able to reach because she sat above him, and when he found that small spot near where he entered her, he stroked it, faster and faster, harder and harder until her body let go.

  Then, he sat up, wrapping his arms around her as he turned them over. He was already deep but now he thrust even deeper, joining them and stroking the folds of her flesh until she cried out. He lifted almost out of her and then plunged to fill her completely and find his own release.

  Only the sounds of their breathing filled the cave. At first, she could not even tell whose was whose. Shallow panting turned into deeper, laboured breaths and then slow, regular inhalations. Her body had lost its spine and she lay under him barely able to move. Brodie eased off her, but kept hold of her with his arm across her stomach.

  Time passed as they lay together, touched and touching, exhausted and satisfied. Somehow she knew she would never find this kind of trust and sense of wild abandon with any other man. And when morning’s grey light entered through the edges of the canvas flap, Arabella knew it was over.

  * * *

  When the whispers began outside, she knew they’d discovered Alan missing. When more footsteps paced along the path leading to the cave, she knew they wanted to call for Brodie, but dared not. But instead of waking him, she slid closer to him and smiled when he wrapped himself around her and slept even deeper.

  Another hour would not matter—if Alan had escaped the camp’s guards, no one would find him now. So she selfishly held on to him until the last possible moment.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ‘Brodie.’

  He heard her whisper his name, but did not wish to open his eyes and bring this night to a close. Even the light he could see through his lids did not push him to accept the reality that day was here already. And that they were done.

  ‘Brodie,’ Arabella whispered once more. ‘You must wake now.’

  ‘Och, lass,’ he whispered as he slid his arms around her and pulled her on top of him. ‘I do not think I can pleasure you
again. A man must have some rest,’ he teased, knowing well that his body would ready itself if she gave a word or sign to him.

  Then he noticed that it was not her bare skin that touched his. The fabric of a gown came between them. He shook off sleep’s grasp and opened his eyes. True enough, Arabella was dressed and watched him with guarded eyes of her own.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked as he eased from underneath her and sat. Pushing his hair from his face and running his fingers through it, he saw that it was full day outside though only tiny shards of light pierced the cave’s darkness around the flap he’d pulled over the entrance.

  ‘Your men have been waiting outside,’ she explained, setting her own hair to rights in a quickly made braid. ‘I know you have not slept well these last nights, so I did not want to wake you.’ There was something else that she was not saying.

  ‘And?’ he asked.

  There was something different about her. He could not figure out what it was, but she seemed ill at ease now. Did she finally regret their actions? Had she realised what a mistake it had been?

  ‘And I did not wish the night to end yet,’ she admitted.

  Her kissed her bruised lips gently and caressed her face with his hand. There was not a place on her that he had not tended to during this night of theirs but he felt as if he wanted to begin again. However...

  They each had a duty to see to and they knew it.

  ‘Nor I,’ he replied as he climbed to his feet and found his breeches and shirt.

  Tugging them on, he knew the magic they’d found was fading. Arabella moved around the chamber, folding blankets and putting things back in place. Soon, other than the bowls she held in her hands, there was not a trace of the incredible night they’d shared left here.

  ‘Brodie?’ Rob called from outside. Their movements must have been noticed. ‘Are you awake yet?’

  He laughed then, but noticed Arabella did not. Her face seemed set in stone. Had she just realised that she would have to confront others this soon? Was she embarrassed that they would know, they all knew, what had happened between them?