Storm Trilogy

by Ria Cantrell

  “Yes, my love. I feel it too. Let it happen. I want ye’ to come, Sweet Angel.”

  His words, like caresses, took her to the edge. Her hips moved against him and she clenched around his shaft, rippling around him and she sighed.

  As she pulsed around him and she experienced her climax, he watched her come in his arms. That finished him. He tensed and then released; filling her with his molten seed. Feeling his release, Brielle cried out again.

  He felt her trembling in his arms and he soothed, “Yes my love, I am one with ye’.”

  She arched back, holding onto his shoulders and her sweet hips pumped against him as wave after wave of delicious ecstasy coursed over them both. As the last drop of his essence filled her, he gently shifted her onto her back and moved over her. He kissed her passionately; deeply, letting his tongue imitate the gentle thrusting as he continued moving slowly within her. Her little moans told him she did not want it to end just yet either. He kissed her again and felt the velvet of her tongue caress into his mouth.

  He whispered, “Oh, love, I canna’ get my fill of ye’. I crave to be one with ye' again and again.”

  “Oh, aye, Ruiri, I do too.”

  “My beautiful, passionate angel. Oh, God, how I love ye’,” he professed.

  Brielle reached up to kiss him. Her heart was filled near to bursting with love. As Rory finally withdrew from her, he took her into his arms and held her. She rested against him, one leg drawn sensually between his two powerful thighs. She felt thoroughly sated and relaxed as if her entire body had been caressed. Rory breathed in her scent, filling his lungs with her fragrance of soft wildflowers and the sensual scent from having loved her. She was soft in his arms. He stroked her shoulder gently and lovingly cupped a breast.

  “What says ye’ to that nap now, my love?”

  Sidling to him, she breathed, “Mm, a nap sounds perfect.”

  He pulled a fur about her and he felt her nestling close to him. He liked the feel of her leg over him. It was possessive but sensual, too. It was like she was saying he was hers and she was not going to release his body from her hold. She loved the feel of his hand stroking her. Her lips wandered over his neck and she relaxed with him. With the comfortable ease they both felt with each other, it wasn’t long before they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms in the afterglow of their lovemaking, spent from their passion.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Roderick Campbell was in a blind rage. Even the messenger before him seemed daunted by the tirade as Roderick screamed with obscene expletives. He threw his tankard to the floor, splattering his ale on the rug and tapestries. His face was nearly purple with anger.

  “Where is my sister, the whore, now?”

  “She is with MacCollum even as we speak.”

  “She is a married woman! I had her wed to Marcus Val Cour….”

  “Marcus Val Cour is dead, Roderick. She left to come home.”

  “Come home? Who the hell wanted her home? Her home is back in England at Val Cour Manor as the grieving widow…not as the slut of Rory MacCollum!”

  “She was returning home and there was an accident. They said the Wolf found her.”

  Kicking a candle stand and sending the candles scattered; melted wax dripping onto the floor, Roderick fairly exploded with rage.

  “No doubt that cur will try to use her agin’ me. And now she is with him? She is with him!”

  “Aye, it seems so. She was seen in the village with him.”

  Jerome McManus knew he should not dare to provoke Roderick, who had already been heavy in his cups by the time he arrived at Castle Campbell, but he could not resist adding, “They were all over each other. She couldna’ keep her hands from him, even in the public of the village.”

  Quiet fury washed over Roderick, which Jerome knew was worse than the black temper tantrums Roderick was known for. It would simmer and then explode. Jerome instinctively backed up a space, seeing the warning signs bubbling.

  “Too long has MacCollum sought to destroy Campbell. Now the Rabid Wolf has that stupid bitch of a sister of mine, using her as his whore and laughing at us in the process.”

  Roderick picked up an inkwell and dashed it against the wall, adding to the growing mess in the squalor of the room.

  “I will make them pay. They will both pay for this humiliation. This at last gives me just cause to kill that whore’s son. I should have killed him that day all those years ago when his pasty faced breeding bitch got in the way of the arrow meant for his black heart. Now he is tupping my sister, rutting her like the hellhound he is. He must pay for this.”

  Despite his drunken state, Roderick was strong. It was like the drink gave him strength and fed his fire. Picking up the candle stand, he swung it hard, like a titan in battle, crashing it against the mantle of the fireplace, splintering the wood into shards. Jerome took another instinctive step back and he stammered, “What…d-do you plan to do?”

  “Do? I plan to gut that rutting bastard. Preferably before my sister's very eyes! Oh, how I shall enjoy sliding my dirk into his belly as he begs me to spare him.”

  Drool had formed at the corners of Roderick’s mouth, like a true mad man. Jerome almost thought the way it festered and exploded bordered on sexual release.

  “That stupid harlot! I arrange for someone to marry that worthless piece of trash when no one else would have her and she brings this dishonor to our doorstep? She has made folly of her clan by becoming the willing whore of Rory MacCollum! Oh, I want to choke the life out of her scrawny neck.”

  Jerome saw Roderick was now deep in his rage; incoherent from the power of it. He thought to slip away while he had his chance, but Roderick turned on him, swinging the candle stand again and said, “Find her. Take her and bring that whore home. Once she is here, he will come…ohhh and when he does, I shall enjoy gutting the almighty Wolf of the Highlands. When he has breathed his last, I will toss that unappreciative harlot to anyone who will ever wish to enjoy her.”

  Jerome nodded, ever the dutiful servant, but then again, perhaps, he would be rewarded by sampling her, when Roderick left her to his men. Yes, he would bring her home. He had thought to marry her long ago, but she never even cast him a glance. The likes of Jerome McManus was not good enough for the granddaughter of the Campbell Laird. She never even so much as said a word to him. Besides he did not have the bride price Roderick was able to get from Marcus Val Cour. Brielle was a rare beauty, albeit thick-witted, according to Roderick.

  Jerome should have taken her when he had the chance, but he had no pride in that regard. He would take her when Roderick gave her over. She would have been used, no longer untried, but it was of no consequence to him. Virgins made cold bed partners anyway. Better to bed a whore and bed her he would!

  Jerome McManus would use her and spend himself on her. That was a certainty! If she resisted, he would finish her like he had done to that unwilling bitch some years ago. He rutted the unwilling serving wench and kept her from crying out by pressing down on her throat. He had wanted to watch her as he took her over and over, but somewhere in the midst of it she collapsed. He thought she had only fainted, but he found she had expired there and then. Stupid bitch, caused him a world of trouble, but he dumped her lifeless body down a ravine deep in the woods and no one ever heard from her again.

  “Aye, I will gather your sister home,” Jerome said, hardly coming out of his reverie. In taking his leave of Roderick Campbell, Jerome McManus let his mind slip into lurid daydreams of bedding Gabrielle Campbell; imagining her squirming and screaming as he took her. He liked it best when girls resisted him. He almost couldn't wait.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rory had not realized how very tired he had been. It was almost as if releasing the restraints on his heart enabled him to sleep, finally finding the peace he had longed for. How long had it been that his dreams were uninterrupted? How long since his sleeping hours were not tormented with memories of the past? Brielle had come to cast out his demons
and he was healing from the Darkness that long had prevented him the simplest of pleasures; even restful sleep. He slowly came awake, feeling the soft lips of his Brielle kissing him. He breathed in and held her, still sleepy from napping with her.

  “Ruiri,” she asked.

  “Yes, love,” he murmured; his eyes still shut, relaxed and sated.

  “How do ye’ do that thing?”

  A grin lifted his lips. “Which thing, love? The one where I make ye’ come from tasting ye’?”

  “No!”

  “The one where I make ye’ cry out in pleasure from filling ye’?”

  “Ruiri, I am not talking about those things. Yer’ voice, clear as spoken, yet unspoken. I can hear it….”

  “I dunna’ know, lass. It has never happened before. Ye’ seem to do it too.” Opening his eyes to look at her, he felt so happy to feel her in his arms. One of her hands traced down his chest.

  “I thought you had heard it from me, too,” she said. His big hand eased past her hip to the curve of her waist and trailed gently over her back.

  “I have, Love, several times now.” Resting her arms across his chest she said,

  “How is it possible, Ruiri?”

  “I know not, lass. Mayhap it something to do with the Ancient Binding. I just think it is because we were meant for each other. I think it is important for us somehow…like it may come in handy should we need it. It is like our own personal language meant just between us.”

  Brielle looked into his intense golden eyes, like the color of that warm whiskey known for in these parts. She tested their newly found gift.

  Ruiri, I love you.

  He smiled as he heard her thoughts clearly, as if she spoke them out loud. That was an easy one. He answered her in thought; I love ye’, my angel.

  She kissed him fiercely. He turned over her, kissing her mouth and letting his hands gently roam over her body. She sighed in his arms, wanting him again. He laughed, feeling her wakening desire build and he said, “What? Again, lass? Ye’ will wear me out. Ye’ are insatiable.”

  “I canna’ help it. It is the most wonderful thing I have ever felt.”

  “Och, lassie, it’s because ye’ have no other to compare it to.”

  “I’ve no need to. I love it with ye’. No one else will feel like it does with ye’.”

  Ruiri nibbled down her neck, over her chest and belly, sending shivers all the way through her. She loved the feel of his tender bites against her. She felt playfulness in it as he nibbled all around her navel. He looked up at her and she saw his smile, but also the intensity of desire in his eyes. He wanted her and feeling him want her was like a precious gift.

  He said, “I love how you look, nestled in my plaid; like a delicious treat.”

  He kissed back up over her ribs and gently rotating his palms over her breasts. She breathed his name softly. He stroked down her face with the backs of his knuckles and he said, “I want to love ye’, Brielle. I want to show you so many different pleasures. Will ye’ let me show ye’?” She nodded, her eyes wide, and expressive.

  “There is nothing to be afraid of. I will not hurt ye’, my love. I promise.”

  “I know that Rory…I have always known that.”

  Rory gathered her in his arms and he gently turned her onto her stomach; straddling her legs and kneeling back. He began his seduction by rubbing her shoulders, just easing all the tension out of them. He wanted her to feel relaxed and receptive. She sighed, enjoying the feel of his strong hands on her.

  “Ruiri, could I do this for ye’ sometime? I am sure after wielding a heavy claymore in the lists that this would feel good for ye’.”

  “Oh aye, lass. It would, but right now, I want this to be for ye, and for ye’ to be completely relaxed and at ease.” She sighed and then giggled, naughtily.

  “I know what ye’ wish to do, Ruiri. I oft times seen one of my brothers with a maid this way…In fact, I rather thought it was the only way couples…did…”

  Rory laughed softly. Dropping a kiss between her shoulder blades, Ruiri said, “Innocent angel…there are many ways to love ye', and I intend to show you each one. Now, come up on yer’ knees for me.” Brielle complied, and her heart was so filled with love at Ruiri’s gift of wanting to show her the many ways to feel pleasure in his arms.

  “Oh, yes, so beautiful…ye’ undo me, Brielle.”

  He stroked her sweetly rounded backside and he had to steel himself as he rose, fully hard, now obviously completely awake and filled back with desire. As he cupped her cheeks sweetly and he felt her gyrate against his touch, he playfully gave her a little smack. She gasped at the little sting of it, but laughed again, as she heard him chuckle. She looked over her shoulder at him and saw that although he smiled, he was trying to restrain himself for some reason.

  “Love me, Ruiri--Please,” she encouraged. His hand caressed over her, slowly sliding between the cleft of her cheeks. He moved his hand forward and beneath her, feeling to see if she was wet. She was! He let out his breath in a sigh.

  “God, ye’ are so hot and wet, Brielle. Do you know what that does to a man?” He didn’t really seek an answer as he gently rubbed his fingers against that moist heat.

  “I know what it does to you, Ruiri, and knowing that makes me happy.”

  She sighed feeling his touch. It was so delicious to feel him stroking her and enticing her. Sliding his now slick middle finger inside of her, he watched her react to his touch and he loved that she was so open and responsive to him. She was naturally sensual. It was as if loving him had unlocked all of that shyness. He leaned closer to her and whispered, “I need to be inside ye’, Brielle.”

  “Aye, Ruiri, please hurry.”

  He removed his finger and knelt behind her. Running his hands up her sides and over her hips, he guided himself into her. She tossed her lovely mane of sable hair, feeling him fill her so completely and she moaned out loud.

  He soothed her and said, “Are ye’ alright, my love? I have na’ hurt ye’, have I? I was trying so hard to be gentle…”

  Her sigh of pleasure assured Rory she was more than alright. He laughed softly but as he felt her clench around his shaft so naturally, he was drawn into the total pleasure of loving her. He loved watching her body take him deeply. It was so damned sexy to see her moving with him, meeting his thrusts as he sank blessedly into her. Rory moved against her, holding her hips gently, guiding her in perfect sync to his rhythm.

  “Oh, my angel, ye’ are so wonderful to love. Brielle, I love ye’ so much.”

  Tears filled her eyes as her precious warrior professed his love for her. She was glad he couldn’t see her face, but as he continued to make love to her, she was overwhelmed with emotion. She felt completely filled, stretching comfortably to accept his size. He pulsed thick inside of her and she loved how it felt to take him, completely. In this position, she almost felt like he could thrust deeper. Her hips moved with him, following his pace. She felt him once again drop kisses along her spine as he curved around her, holding her.

  He murmured, “Ye’ are so beautiful, my Brielle, and tight. Ye’ are so perfect for me to love.”

  His hips began a quicker pace and she matched him stroke for stroke. The only thing she didn’t like about this position was that she couldn’t touch him and all she could do was feel him loving her. It was like sweet torture, as he moved his hands freely about her and she could only grip the bedding in her flexing fingers.

  She stole a glance over her shoulder at him, and saw he was lost in passion. His head cast back on his mighty shoulders, and his eyes closed, but his lips parted as he sighed. She loved to hear the moan of pleasure from him as he felt her beautiful body clench around his shaft. He eased his hands over her buttocks, up her sides and leaning forward again, he cupped her breasts in his big strong hands. He felt her shudder at his touch.

  She sighed, responding so well to him. She was moaning softly with each thrust and he knew she was getting closer. She was so responsive to him,
and he was happy that she could feel pleasured releases with him. She reacted to every caress.

  She needed it faster and she encouraged, “Harder Ruiri…please….”

  He was happy to oblige her. He whispered, “Ye’ make me so excited, Sweetheart. You make me forget I need to be gentle.”

  With that profession, he felt her pulsing around him, drenching him in her delicious moist heat. He loved how she felt around him; how she became so wet; responding so completely to him. She was keening softly, with each thrust and he knew she was almost there.

  As her body sheathed him and her muscles rippled around him, he was quickly getting to that place, too. He wanted to make her come with him and as the pressure built up inside him, he knew it was not going to take either of them long. To assure her release with his, he eased his fingers beneath her and he gently touched her, connecting with her most sensitive spot. She felt him surging into her as he tauntingly circled the hardened little bud. It was all she could do to not to scream, but she cried out with such intensity, feeling the cresting excitement building toward release.

  He used his fingers to finish her and as she came, shuddering in his arms, she felt him explode inside of her. She trembled from the powerful force of his release and she felt the shattering as she came again, a second time so soon after the first in a wave of pleasure. When, he felt her reach that height again, he was elated. He watched her sink to her forearms, breathing hard and feeling once again overcome with emotion. She felt his hands drawing her into his arms, but she didn’t want him to see that she was caught up in emotion.