Mated By The Demon Collections: Paranormal Romance

by Riley Moreno

  ‘You never cease to amaze me, my beautiful wife,’ Tristan said, looking at her in wonder. ‘How do you know how to please a man so?’

  Ashley smiled up at him dreamily, still dizzy from their encounter, ‘I never knew about that particular way of pleasing my man, until I actually experienced it just now.’

  Tristan shook his head in wonder. ‘It’s not something you discussed with your friends and giggled over?’

  ‘No my Laird. I never discussed these things with the few friends I had. I’m as surprised as you are – especially as I have been well pleased too.’ She ran her tongue over her lips as she said that and Tristan’s eyes went dark with passion. He crushed her lips under his, tasting the residue of his spill that lingered on her mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair, as he lifted her up from the chair and held her against him. Ashley pulled her lips from his. ‘Later, my love,’ she laughed, her voice husky, ‘We must save something to savor in bed. Besides, we must not give the servants reason to gossip about the kind of meal we are partaking of apart from that which is growing cold on the table.’

  Tristan pulled himself away from her with an effort, and they both resumed their meal again.

  ‘So, my dear, about Leana, let us double up our efforts to find her,’ Ashley said, though her mind was already on the bedroom and she swallowed with difficulty.

  ‘I will talk with the other clans tomorrow and we will see how we can launch another search,’ Tristan said, toying with the food on his plate; aware of his excitement at the memory of what Ashley had just done to pleasure him.

  ‘Begin with the Mackenzie lad, is my advice,’ Ashley said, making a desperate effort to keep her attention on the food and Leana.

  ‘Are you curious about him?’ Tristan asked, ‘Because he is from your clan?’ Tristan’s voice was hoarse and he was desperately aware of his arousal. Merely looking at Ashley seated opposite him, her lips closing over a morsel of food, was tormenting him with thoughts of her tongue’s agility, the heat of her mouth, the gentleness of her teeth and the ability of her lips to tease, ignite and excite him.

  Ashley chewed thoughtfully on a piece of meat. ‘Maybe. I’m unsure how I feel about my clan because I was so summarily rejected that the hurt still lingers, but yes, I suppose I am a little curious to know who this particular Mackenzie is, who could so lure a Kincaid away from her home.’

  ‘If he is anything as incredible as the woman I married, then I will be forever repentant that I caused my sister such pain in parting her from him.’ Tristan murmured.

  ‘You seem a little distraught,’ Ashley said, concerned.

  ‘Forgive me my darling, but though I know the gravity of the situation regarding my sister, you have just opened the doors of my own imagination and I find myself unable to appease my appetite with food at this moment.’

  ‘Ah, but you must, my dear Laird, because otherwise you might not have the strength to stand up to what I have in mind. And I have to eat for our baby.’

  Tristan studied her face. ‘There is something different about you,’ he breathed.

  Ashley smiled. ‘I have a little Kincaid within me and I feel on fire for you my love, that’s all.’ She leaned forward and reached for the Cranachan. ‘The first pudding I ate with you,’ she said, dipping her fingers into the bowl of whipped cream, honey and berries.

  ‘Wait,’ Tristan whispered, ‘I hope there’s no whisky in it. You must be careful.’

  ‘No whisky in it, my darling,’ Ashley said, picking up the bowl and carrying it over to the chair beside her husband’s.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Tristan asked, as she raised her fingers to his lips so he could lick the cream and honey off them. She held a strawberry up to her own mouth, taking a bite off it and feeding the rest to him, holding his blue eyes with her flashing green orbs all the while. She sucked the cream and honey off her own fingers and dipped them into the bowl again, easing her fingers into Tristan’s mouth, her breath coming faster, in little gasps, as his lips closed over them. Then she lowered herself onto his lap and licked the cream and honey off his lips, slowly and deliberately, holding his hands away from her as she did so.

  ‘Are you teasing your husband, woman?’ Tristan groaned, all at once seeing her as the subduer and him, the subdued.

  ‘Oh no, I’m just trying to get you to eat, my Laird,’ Ashley said, going back to her own chair to finish her food.

  Tristan watched her eat, his gaze softening, his body pulsating with suppressed desire. When Ashley had finished, she rose from the table and held her hand out to him.

  ‘And now, to bed,’ she said, aware of how much her body ached for him.

  ‘Will we make it to the bedroom?’ Tristan said as they walked up the stairs together. ‘I ache.’

  ‘I ache too,’ Ashley said, and he swung her up into his arms and strode to the bedroom, suddenly in control again. He was gentle with her body, aware of the life that grew within her, but she urged him to suck her breasts harder, to plunge into her with the same ferocity, to ride her with the intensity that made her climb up dizzying heights and to work his tongue between her thighs until she cried out his name over and over, her pelvis thrusting against his mouth, his manhood, his hands, his lips, feeling his passion spurt within her, against her, over her, until she was fulfilled.

  Later they lay side by side, Tristan’s hand on Ashley’s belly.

  ‘I’m almost afraid of how happy I am,’ Tristan said.

  Ashley kissed the matted curls on his chest. ‘I never thought I could ever be happy after my mama died… until now.’

  ‘A bairn of our own,’ Tristan said, leaning over to kiss her belly, ‘Ashley my darling, we have a bairn of our own!’

  CHAPTER III

  The next day Ashley was mystified as Tristan, Laren and the household staff seemed to be involved in a plan that excluded her. As the day wore on, she grew more suspicious.

  ‘Laren,’ Ashley said, ‘What seems to be afoot?’

  Laren giggled, ‘I can’t say. You must ask the Laird.’ But Tristan was nowhere to be found, so Ashley took herself off on a rare trip to the kitchens where the cooks bustled about.

  Ashley looked enquiringly at the large quantities of food in various stages of preparation. ‘What is going on?’ she asked the elderly lady who managed the kitchen. Everyone looked up and greeted her, and the head cook gave them a warning look before hurrying over to where Ashley stood.

  ‘My lady, we cannot say. You must speak to the Laird.’

  ‘Speak to the Laird indeed. Have I no right to know what is going on in my own home?’

  The cook gave her an apologetic look and Ashley stomped off.

  Tristan breezed in – godlike, magnificent – his dark hair flying about his shoulders, blue eyes flashing triumphantly.

  ‘Where have you been, my love?’ Ashley asked, ‘I am so vexed with you for disappearing without a word, and all the household seeming to be conspiring against me. Am I to be left out of events that take place under my roof?’

  Tristan smiled. ‘Ah, but you are ravishing when you are vexed. I shall seek to vex you more often,’ he said exasperatingly, taking her into his arms. She pushed him away pouting. ‘Tell me. What is going on?’

  ‘Come with me,’ Tristan said and took her to the Great Hall.

  ‘What is this?’ Ashley was aghast. There were fabrics spread across the floor, on the chairs, everywhere…and there were strange men unraveling more reams of material.

  ‘My love, what is all this for?’ Ashley asked.

  ‘These are merchants who travel through our land with wares from exotic places. I happened to find them and brought them here.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For you to choose the finest materials with which to adorn our bairn’s nursery.’

  Ashley’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh my darling! Why so many merchants and so much material?’

  ‘Because my love, I want only the best for our bairn.’

  Ashley look
ed at the unraveled bales of fabric, running her fingers over them, suddenly excited at the prospect of decorating the nursery. She was completely engrossed with choosing lengths of material from the collection before her, that she didn’t hear Tristan when he called out.

  ‘Ashley!’ Tristan called again and she looked up to see her husband proudly holding out the most exquisite gown of purple velvet. ‘For my bride. And the mother of my child.’

  Ashley felt a great lump in her throat. ‘Oh, but I feel so emotional today,’ she said as a tear slipped down her cheek.

  Tristan ignored the merchants’ curious looks and brushed the tear off his wife’s cheek. ‘You will wear this tonight.’

  ‘Why? It is too grand to wear for an evening making love on the moor,’ Ashley whispered.

  ‘No. But it is grand enough to wear to a banquet thrown to celebrate the news of our baby.’

  ‘Oh! A banquet! So that is what is going on today? All the whispers and giggles?’

  ‘Yes,’ Tristan said, looking contrite, ‘I didn’t want to worry you and have you strain yourself bothering about the arrangements when we have enough staff to handle everything.’

  ‘Who is coming to the banquet?’

  ‘All the clans – so that we can make the announcement of my heir…and ask for their help in finding Leana.

  ‘Will the Mackenzies be there?’

  ‘I have had to invite them too. Though I didn’t want to, it’s for the best that we keep peace with them. But you don’t have to speak to Lydell Mackenzie if it distresses you.’

  ‘I almost died because of his indifference towards me,’ Ashley remarked.

  ‘Yes, the memory of how I found you on the moors still incenses me,’ Tristan said, ‘But I found you, and you survived that terrible time… and we are together and that’s all that matters, my love.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ashley said, ‘But I will keep my distance from Lydell.’

  ‘We will need his help in mustering the Mackenzie’s support to locate Bruce and through him find Leana.’

  Ashley looked thoughtful. ‘I know. But I will not let Lydell think he can treat his own flesh and blood with such a lack of care and expect an apology to entitle him to my friendship. I can never look at that man again and not think the worst thoughts of him. But I agree. You need his help.’

  That night the star bedecked heavens hung like a canopy over the gardens of Lennox castle and bathed the heather clad hills that rose up from behind the towering edifice, in a magical glow. The tables were laden with food and the air fragrant with the aroma or roast venison, grouse and ham. There were pies and puddings and flagons of ale. The pipers and fiddlers took turns playing as the guests danced. Tristan was resplendent in his green and black kilt of Kincaid Tartan, his wild locks tied tamely at the nape of his neck, his muscles rippling through the fabric of his white shirt. Ashley looked radiant in the gown of purple velvet that Tristan had given her that morning, her curves accentuated by the smoothness of the fabric and the life that grew within her. She dimpled up at her husband, ‘How I long to see what lies beneath your sporran, my laird,’ she said, her green eyes sparkling mischievously.

  ‘Say no more, my love, or I will carry you up to the bedroom right this minute.’

  ‘Should I dare you to?’ Ashley said huskily. ‘All that stands between me and the satisfaction of my insatiable hunger for you my darling, is your kilt.’

  ‘And the skirt of your dress, and all that you wear under it.’

  Ashley gave Tristan a provocative look. ‘And what if I told you that I wear only the sheerest chemise and nothing else under this gown?’

  Tristan took her hand and led her rapidly into the arbor set away from the gardens where the banquet was taking place. ‘Where to my laird?’ Ashley asked breathlessly.

  ‘To a ceremonial ravishing,’ Tristan answered, ‘It is a Kincaid tradition before the announcement that a woman is with child.’

  Ashley laughed. ‘Even if you have just made that up, I am willing to participate wholeheartedly in the ritual. I’m eager to know where and how, though.’

  Tristan pulled her under the arbor and his kiss told her how much he wanted her. He ravaged her lips, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth. She thrust her pelvis against him, anxious not to crush her gown, but her desire for him reaching the point of despair.

  ‘Oh Tristan, my darling, take me here!’ She begged.

  ‘I fully intend to, my Ashley,’ He panted, as he raised his kilt, unleashing his erection. She savored the sight of the majestic length and incredible girth of his rampant member as she lifted her gown eagerly to give him access, gasping as Tristan picked her up in his arms effortlessly. She wound her legs around his waist, drawing his raging, turgid manhood inside of her, inch by inch at first until he plunged into her like a sword unsheathed, buried deep, up to the hilt. Ashley moaned, pulling the low neck of her gown down to free her breasts for Tristan to feast on. His mouth was hot, pouring flames into her engorged tips, his tongue like a burning arrow igniting their molten fullness, as he backed her up against a pillar and continued his relentless onslaught until his manhood seemed to swell within her moistness and his body convulsed as a starburst of pleasure erupted inside of him. Tristan groaned and gasped and Ashley bit her lip to keep herself from screaming with pleasure as the dam burst inside of her in a deep and mind numbing climax. Tristan kept up his rhythmic thrusting till she climbed quickly once more, peaked and climaxed again, this time unable to prevent a cry of anguished pleasure from escaping her throat as Tristan continued to ravish her.

  Ashley staggered as Tristan set her down on her feet, carefully lowering her gown, her breasts still spilling out from the neck. She pushed them back inside, as Tristan watched her hungrily, thinking how beautiful she looked with the moonlight setting her hair on fire and her skin glowing from their lovemaking. Ashley walked back to the banquet, acutely aware of the moistness between her legs, while Tristan walked with a swagger, his sporran concealing any telltale signs of passion just spent.

  ‘Friends, clansmen, my beloved wife and I have an announcement to make,’ Tristan shouted out, a while after they had rejoined the banquet. There was silence as everyone turned to face the Kincaid chief, every woman’s eyes on his handsome face and tall, muscular body. Tristan took Ashley’s hand and led her forward.

  ‘Speak, Kincaid!’ Someone shouted back to him.

  ‘My beloved Ashley and I have joyous news! Ashley is with child!’

  Ashley hadn’t expected such a loud roar of applause. The Kincaid clansmen sprang forward and threw Tristan up on their shoulders and for once Ashley was glad he was clad under his kilt. Then the pipers began to play and the men danced. Ashley sat down in a chair and watched them, completely enthralled by the magic of the Highlands, the hills bathed in the silver moonlight, the plaintive sounds of the bagpipes and the rhythmic beating of feet.

  The music stopped as Tristan called for silence once again. ‘I have another announcement to make. I wish to ask for your help in finding my sister, Leana. And to especially ask the Mackenzie Clan for their assistance in locating Bruce Mackenzie, whom you all know, my sister had great regard for. I know I opposed the match, but now I want my sister back and I hope you will agree to help me find her.’

  ‘Why don’t you concentrate on finding your sister and leave Bruce Mackenzie out of it?’

  Tristan turned to see who had spoken. It was Lydell. Ashley bristled. She hadn’t noticed his presence before, so she assumed he had chosen not to grace the occasion.

  ‘Why?’ Tristan asked. ‘I am assuming that Leana eloped with him, so if you have any news of Bruce, then we can most certainly find Leana.’

  ‘It is best that you leave Bruce Mackenzie out of your investigations,’ Lydell said more emphatically.

  Ashley stepped forward. ‘No!’ She said, her eyes flashing angrily. ‘We will find him too. I am committed to doing so.’

  ‘Any particular reason why?’ Lydell asked.

  ‘I
s there any particular reason why you don’t want us to look for Bruce? Perhaps because you left him to a fate similar to the one you left me in?’

  Lydell’s face reddened. ‘Why would you say that? What do I have to do with Bruce? I was merely suggesting…’

  Ashley’s eyes bored into Lydell. ‘Tristan,’ she whispered in her husband’s ear, ‘Lydell is hiding something about Bruce. I just know he is.’

  ‘You’re saying that because you hate him.’

  ‘No, I am certain. Trust me my darling, he knows something about Bruce. Something which he doesn’t wish us to uncover.’

  ‘So what do you suggest I do?’

  ‘Let the investigation proceed as aggressively as it can.’

  ‘Lydell!’ Tristan called out, ‘I think I would like to find Bruce. I hope you will help me.’

  Lydell threw Tristan and Ashley a contemptuous glare and walked away.

  ‘Yes, you’re probably right my love,’ Tristan said, squeezing Ashley’s hand. ‘That man is hiding something for sure.’

  As they danced a reel, Tristan kept his eyes on his wife and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. But suddenly, Tristan froze, as a woman came into his line of vision. Ashley turned to follow Tristan’s almost frightened gaze and saw a woman dressed in an arisaid. She had flaxen hair and a beautiful face. Ashley looked from her to Tristan and back again, ignoring the dancers that twirled and stomped around them.

  ‘Who is that woman who has captured your attention?’ Ashley asked Tristan, leaving the dancers and tugging at her husband’s arm.

  ‘Nobody. Just a stranger I was curious about.’

  Ashley’s eyes narrowed. ‘I might not have been in your life that long, Tristan, but I know you, and I know that that woman is not a stranger. Wait, she is coming towards us.’

  Tristan’s heart was racing. ‘We must leave the banquet Ashley. Please don’t talk to that woman.’