by Ria Cantrell
“Lass, come down off that beast.”
He looked terrified for her. The horse halted and Rory held out his arms to help her down. She was completely aware of how wonderful it felt to slide down his body as the strength of his arms moved around her, steadying her to her feet.
She felt a strange jolt of energy course through her as her body made contact with his. He felt it, too. Time seemed suspended as her arms remained around his shoulders and his hands stilled at her waist. She looked up into his eyes and felt the intensity of his gaze on her. She did not see hatred there, only concern and something else; like a smoldering fire.
It looked like he was going to kiss her. As he began lowering his head, the horse nudged Brielle, whickering at her. She stroked its nose and put her arms about its neck, hugging the beautiful animal.
She said, “Thank you magnificent boy…for letting me ride you.”
Rory was astonished. The animal seemed to respond to her voice. The horse that had been completely wild, so wild in fact, that even the grooms were reluctant to handle him, however was tame when this girl spoke to him. With that, he nudged her again, causing her to stumble into Rory’s hold. Once again, Rory’s strong arms caught her. He helped Brielle over the fence and pulled her cloak tighter around her. During her ride, it had slipped open and her gown left the top part of her chest exposed to the chill of the morning.
“Ye’ll catch yer’ death if ye’ dunna’ keep warm,” he said awkwardly.
“Well then, that certainly would solve yer’ dilemma wouldn’t it.”
His eyes met hers and he said, “That certainly would not solve my dilemma.”
“Well, at least you would not have to keep avoiding me.”
Rory’s head bowed and he gently tucked a strand of her hair over her ear.
“I dunna’ wish to avoid ye'...not anymore.”
There was a certain huskiness in his voice and his fingers stroked the side of her face. Despite the joy he had witnessed moments ago while she had been riding, there was now a look of sadness in her eyes. Of course! He had hurt her and Rory knew he needed to apologize, only he thought, what could he possibly say to make things right?
He had acted like the very monster he was fabled to be. He spoke softly, saying, “Brielle, I-I am so sorry for what I have done.”
Her hand came up and she put her fingers to his lips.
“Shhh. Dunna’ speak of it again. T’is of no matter now.”
He was astounded at her kindness. She could have made him pay for what he had done to her, but instead, she dismissed it. That gesture of forgiveness was a powerful antidote to the poison that had destroyed him for so long. So intense was the healing from so simple a touch, yet she gave it easily and without price.
Looking at her, he realized that she was a good and loving soul. She was nothing like those demon spawns that ruined his life all those years ago. In that gesture of forgiveness so easily given, he had realized he had never been able to forgive himself. This girl could teach him to accept the absolution he had denied himself but had so desperately needed.
He cleared his throat again, unable to take his eyes from hers and he said, “How did ye’ do that…with the horse?”
She shrugged. “I dunna’ know. T’is always that way with me. Seems I can get along far better with beasties than with the human kind,” she stated, with a sad little laugh.
“But that one is unbroken. He is wild and dangerous.”
“Not with me. I dunna’ know why.”
“Ye’ scared me to death when I saw ye’ riding him. I was afraid ye’ were going to break yer’ lovely neck.”
“He was really quite gentle; sometimes the ones that appear most wild are the most gentle and sweet,” she said looking straight into his eyes and he knew she also was referring to the wildness within himself.
“Brielle, I…”
“Ruiri, won’t ye’ please just kiss me?”
It was a request she didn’t need to make. He fully intended to kiss her. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. She sank into his embrace and sighed as his mouth touched hers. He held her tightly in his arms, forgetting she was a Campbell; forgetting everything except that he needed her. As their lips parted, she put her hands on both sides of his strong jaw. She reached up on her toes to kiss him of her own will. He grasped her cloak, pulling her closer to him and wrapping them both in it so he could touch her under the heavy wool. Her mouth opened to give his tongue access. He felt her soft little tongue flipping up against his.
Desire burst quickly inside him and something else; the healing power of love. Oh, God! He realized he loved her. What he had denied himself for so long finally spilled from his heart. He loved her and he wanted her. He felt himself react, getting hard instantly just as she felt the warm moist heat pool between her legs.
Her arms held tighter around his shoulders and she kissed him deeply, moaning softly as his tongue caressed against hers. It was the most erotic kiss she had ever encountered. She felt the strange reaction of her body as she was wrapped in his arms. She felt her breasts straining against the fabric of her bodice; her nipples peaked and suddenly sensitive. She needed and wanted more; craving his touch.
His hand skimmed up her side and rested just under the swell of her breast. His teeth softly tugged at her lower lip. He then lowered his head and began to nibble against her neck. The sensations were sublime. Brielle pressed her body as close as she could to his. She was aware of the thick hardness that nudged into her belly. She actually felt his legs spread, so she fitted herself between them. As his lips found their way back to hers, his hand slowly rose to the top of her bodice. At first, she shivered at the contact of his cool fingers on her skin, but as she felt his hand warm against her, she thought it was the most soothing feeling she had ever known. That was, of course, until his hand slid gently inside the bodice, connecting with her peaked nipple.
She gasped and he looked at her and said, “I won’t hurt ye’, Brielle.”
She nodded, looking into his golden eyes. “I know,” she said, touching his jaw.
“I willna’ rape ye’.”
Kissing him, she said, “I know.”
Ruiri then said, “But I do want ye’.”
Brielle hugged him tightly. “I want ye’, too, Ruiri.”
Rory took her hand and he led her to his horse. He put her on to the horse and he leapt up behind her. They rode to the keep. He could feel her leaning into his chest and he whispered tender things against her hair. It felt so right again. Rory was gentle and the romantic things he whispered set Brielle’s heart on fire. She relished every word or soft brush of his lips against her ear. It took them only minutes to make it back to the keep. Rory handed the reins to the stable groom. He helped Brielle down and took her into his arms. He kissed her soundly and she sank into his arms.
“Are ye’ sure about this,” she asked.
“I am sure.”
He kissed her again and took her hand, leading her into the keep. Ruiri hooked his arm around her waist. He led her past the main hall. Tables were being set for the midday meal, but few people noticed the couple sneaking off to Rory’s chamber.
They were, however, not unnoticed by Caleb and Morag. They exchanged looks and Caleb said, “Well, well, what happened here?”
Morag shrugged. But in her heart she hoped the differences between the clans would finally be put aside so that love would progress between Ruiri and Brielle.
“I will see they are not disturbed.”
Caleb winked and said, “Aye they need to be alone.”
Chapter Fourteen
When Rory got to the stairs leading up to their chambers, he scooped Brielle up into his arms and carried her; suddenly anxious to be alone with her. Upon entering his room, he kicked the door shut and lowered her to her feet. His fingers unfastened her cloak and she watched it fall to the floor. She felt no fear. She just wanted to touch him and kiss him. Her heart was filled with love, but as she looked into hi
s smoldering eyes, she needed to hear that he would not regret it after the passion passed.
“Ruiri, I am still a Campbell.”
“Aye, and from what I can see, the best that has ever come from that clan.”
Her heart leapt at his words. Touching his face, she said, “I will still be a Campbell …tomorrow.”
Rory understood and he said, “Well, tomorrow I will still be a MacCollum, and I suppose if ye’ will have me, I can accept who ye’ are.”
Brielle threw her arms around him and kissed him so fiercely, he groaned out loud. She looked startled at that sound and she searched his face for understanding. He took her hand and guided it to the front of his trews. She felt the hard evidence of his desire there and she gasped.
She didn’t want him to think she was afraid, but she was a little nervous, after all. Still, she wanted Ruiri; all of him. Now was not the time to be shy and to act like an untried virgin. With both hands on the side of her face, he kissed her. It made her knees weak.
As much as Rory wanted her, he wanted to savor every moment with her. He had waited and denied himself his feelings for her long enough and now he was going to enjoy every second he held her in his arms. He kissed down her neck, gently biting into her shoulder. She cried out with a ragged sigh of her own. She felt dizzy; as if she had drunk too much wine. Everywhere his fingers or mouth touched sent jolts through her body. She felt him deftly unlacing the back of her gown and she tried not to think about how he had learned to be so skilled at just such a task.
For a fleeting moment she worried that she really would not know what she needed to do to be able to please him, but as she felt his mouth on her skin, she realized he was teaching her what he would enjoy to have done to him. However, she had not realized pleasing him would come naturally, and what she didn't know was that he would probably not notice her lack of experience, for when a man truly loves a woman his goal is to please her, and all else falls into place, perfectly.
Her fingers flexed gently over the bulge between them and that caused him to groan again.
He said, “Brielle, I want ye’ very much.”
She smiled and said, “Do ye? Hmm, I hadn’t noticed.”
At those words, her fingers gently squeezed again. She liked the feel of it, sensing it would be so much more, once they were undressed, even though that thought made her quite nervous. Her heart pounded at the thought. She started to forget all her fears as desire rose, though. Nothing else mattered but Ruiri, and being with him.
Her gown was sufficiently loosened and it began sliding off her shoulders. In a sudden attempt at modesty, she clasped it to her chest, but then she saw Rory shrug out of his leine and she lost her shyness. She wanted her skin to touch his with nothing between them. She let go of her bodice and it slid down to her waist. Rory’s eyes raked her hungrily. Although there was still faint bruising on her ribs, he thought she was just perfect. His hands gently cupped each breast carefully, so he would not hurt her. He loved the feel of their heaviness in his hands. Her dusky nipples puckered into his palms.
His voice, husky and thick with desire said, “Look at how beautiful ye’ are. Oh, ye’ are perfect for me to make love to.”
She sighed, feeling the delicious way his hands touched her.
Concern registered on his face and he said, “Ye’ dunna’ hurt, do ye’?”
She shook her head. Fighting to concentrate, she mumbled, “The bruises are nearly gone.”
The warmth of his hands was intoxicating. Rory bent and took one nipple gently into his mouth. She seemed to sob in pleasure, as new sensations washed through her. She was astonished at the way her body was reacting to him. It felt like hot moist heat was seeping out of her. Her hands touched his strong chest. She leaned in, and kissed his flesh there and as she leaned into him, with her hands pressed to the solid plane of his chest, he scooped her back up into his arms.
He carried her gently to his bed and he laid her carefully down on it. He kissed down her neck, softly brushing over the thin old scar. He felt her tense and she tried to move his lips from the spot.
“Dunna’ look at it Ruiri…it is so hideous. It makes me ugly.”
Rory looked into her eyes and he gently traced it with his finger. “Ye’ could never be ugly. Ye’ are so very beautiful. Here, look at this.”
Rory sat up slightly and tugged his trews down a bit. He pointed to a jagged scar over his hip and upper thigh.
“Does that scar repulse ye’?”
Her eyes widened and she said, “No…oh no”
She couldn’t take her eyes from his delicious hip long enough to make much notice of the scar. She stroked over it with a feather light touch. Feeling his muscled hip made her mouth go dry.
“We all have scrapes, Brielle. The marks aren’t deep enough to touch yer’ soul.”
Touching his jaw, she said, “Some do.”
Rory nodded, knowing she understood about the damage he had experienced to his soul. “Aye, but those don’t really show, do they?”
“No they don’t, but they are deeper,” Brielle said softly.
Her fingers just ran down his jaw and shoulder. He was looking at her with such tenderness. He wanted to kiss her again. She realized how he was now so different from the man who wished to force her in anger. This was the man she had fallen in love with.
Again his finger traced the faint line on her neck, thinking how very close it had come to cutting her life source. He swallowed down hard, thinking what she had to endure at the hands of her brothers. He could never even slap his sister, Bronwyn, let alone pull a knife on her. Brielle was searching his eyes, seeing that anger flare in those golden gems.
She did not want him to slide into that dark place again so she leaned up and kissed him quickly. She took one of his hands and brought it to her left breast. Placing it over her heart, she said, “Just touch me. Forget about scars both seen and unseen…if only for a little while.”
“Aye, Lass, you are right.”
His palm rubbed softly against that breast and he felt himself get even harder. It was almost painful.
“Dear God, Brielle, I want ye’ so much.”
“I want ye, too Ruiri.”
Rory placed her back on his bed and tugged her gown down her hips. He watched as blush flushed up her neck and face. He whispered, “Dunna’ be shy, ye’ are beautiful.”
But his words only made her blush deeper. He flashed her one of his hard won smiles, and it melted her heart. He said, “Lift yer’ hips a little for me.”
She did without question, and he eased her gown down her legs.
“Oh,” he moaned, looking at her.
She was curvy and feminine. He planted kisses down her ribs over the soft indentation of her navel. He heard her suck in her breath as he moved his fingers lower, to trace over the soft dark thatch of curls. He teased her and said, “Do ye’ want me?”
She nodded, unable to speak. She was partially terrified; partially mortified; and partially filled with desire. Desire was quickly winning out when he said, “Let me see for myself…” and she became mortified again as his hand gently cupped her mound and he slid a finger between her legs. He was met with a moist heat that gave her away.
She gasped at his touch. No man had ever touched her like that but his touch was so gentle and skilled. He moved his fingers in a gentle massage, but it caused her to writhe up against him. She moaned. Ruiri liked that sound and it encouraged him. His eyes were dark with passion.
He said, “I need to taste ye’, Beauty.”
Even without experience, she knew what he meant and she became suddenly very frightened.
“Ruiri, I think that ye’ should not….”
“Oh, no? Why not, Brielle? Ye’ are delicious.”
“But Ruiri…I am…oh my holy stars,” she gasped as his tongue touched against her. She was wet and sweet and he let his tongue taste her. She started to squirm a little and he was enjoying her response. He circled her hardened little nub, eve
r so gently, and he gently eased one finger inside of her. At first, he wasn’t certain what he had felt at his gentle probing. No, it could not be possible! His eyes flew to her face, not believing the reality. She was still a virgin!
“Brielle, I…dunna…understand.”
Her violet eyes grew enormous and she realized he knew she was still a maid from just touching her. He removed his hand and sat up.
“Please talk to me. How is this possible?”
Crimson blush washed over her cheeks. Looking away from him, she said, “What ye’ have discovered is true.”
“How can that be? How, Brielle? You are a widow. Brielle please tell me that wasn’t some sort of a lie.”
“I have not lied to ye’. Not about that. I was married by proxy. My husband was infirmed, he…he…never touched me.”
A strange look passed over his eyes. Long ago, he had made an unspoken vow to not be with a virgin, because it had a tendency to complicate things…just as he had vowed to remove all Campbells from the world…but this was his Brielle. It was already complicated.
His poor little Brielle, widowed without ever being held in a loving way by a man! No one had ever cherished this angel’s body with passionate touches. Well, that was all going to change. He was the man to cherish her and show her passion she may never have dreamed or even known existed.
She sat up, wondering at his emotional turmoil, which he couldn’t hide in his expression.
“It doesn’t change anything, Ruiri. I…I still want ye.”
“Yes, it does change things. It changes everything.”
He watched as sadness played into her gaze. She was certain that Rory would not want her now that he knew the truth, and that he knew that she was not experienced when it came to being with a man. She expected him to put her aside yet again. She knew he was used to women who knew how to please a man, but she did not want him to let that change his resolve.
“Rory…please, dunna’ walk away now because of this.”
Now it was his turn to look confused. “Walk away? Sweetheart, ye’ should have told me…so I would have known the best way to love ye.”