The words melted over her and she could only smile up at him, words eluding her. Here in their private paradise, where only Ian and she existed was what mattered at the moment. He guided her to wrap her legs about his waist and she eagerly complied and slid her hands to his shoulders.
Harder and faster he drove into her and she called his name over and over as once again peaking threatened. On and on he continued as she again lost all control and became undone. Still she clung to him, her legs tight around his body, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Spill into me Ian, fill me with you."
Her words spurned him to call out her name as he sunk into her once more, so deep she gasped at the sensation. His seed flowed hot.
Ian rolled to lie beside her pulling her into his arms, his lips trailing kisses across her face and temples. Both gasped for breath, their hearts thumping against their chests.
Elsbeth squeezed her eyes shut and burrowed into his chest. "If only we could remain like this forever, not facing the stark reality of life outside these walls."
His arms tightened around her. "Your father is doing better. I believe our marriage has settled him some. He was in good spirits last time we visited was he not?"
Unable to keep a tear from spilling, she sniffed and nodded. "I believe so yes." Her father had finally admitted to being ill. An illness her parents had kept from her and only confessed it after she and Ian married. Although she'd suspected it, denial had kept her from seeing the true extent of her father's declining health. He was pale and had lost weight, his face drawn and more angular now.
Yet she had hope that he'd live long enough to meet his grandchildren. She and Ian were not with child yet, but if the past weeks were any indication, it would not be long before they had the first of what she hoped were many bairns.
A soft snore sounded and she glanced up to see that Ian's head lulled to the side, his full lips parted.
A smile curved her lips as she allowed slumber to carry her away to where she'd share more time with her beautiful golden warrior.
The End
Thank you for reading The Laird's Daughter. I hope you enjoyed it. It was such fun to write Ian's story.
If you have not read Highlander, The Archer, the first in the Highlander Series, please give it a try. This series is unlike my others, a continuing story through four books.
Please leave a review and share with your friends!
Join my newsletter; I'd love to have you as part of my Moonlighter family.
Slainte!
Website: http://www.HildieMcQueen.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/HildieMcQueen
Email: mailto:[email protected]
Newsletter sign up: http://goo.gl/PH6D00
Twitter: https://twitter.com/HildieMcQueen
Tsu: https://www.tsu.co/HildieMcQueen
Excerpt from Highlander, The Archer
Chapter One
Air rasped in and out of Valent's lungs as he cut through the forest. Low branches slashed his arms and face, but on he raced. Fear coursed through his body and tears fell down his cheeks as he jumped over a fallen tree and cut to the right upon spotting the road back to the cottage where he lived. Footfalls closing in behind him forced Valent to run faster.
A hard hit to the middle of his back sent him stumbling forward. He let out a scream when a second hit landed on the back of his head and he fell to the ground dropping his bow and quiver.
It was impossible to count the blows that followed. Kicks and punches continued until he faded in and out of consciousness. Finally, his attackers ran and he curled into a ball willing the pain to go away. If he didn't get up and make it home to get patched up, he'd lose his spot as apprentice archer the next day.
Valent dragged himself to sit and winced. His sides ached when he breathed. Blood from his nose dripped down the front of his tunic and he held his head back to staunch the flow.
"Valent!" A deep voice called out. "Get on with it, boy. I've yet to see what ye accomplished in the hunt." Old Tavish came into view mouth falling open. "Not again."
He hurried to him and bent down peering at Valent's face. "Who did this?"
Not that it mattered if he named his assailants. There was nothing to be done about it. "Donall, Ceardac, and Beathan."
"Ah," Tavish held out a hand. "Come on get up slowly boy. Let's get ye home... I will send for Meagan to come see about ye."
"No." He shook with pain at standing. "Not Meagan."
It took longer than it should’ve to get to their cottage. Tavish couldn't help him much, the man was riddled with pain everyday from old battle injuries and walked with a pronounced limp.
"I have decided to speak to the laird in the morning," Tavish announced with a huff. "’Tis time he does something about his sons. Could 'ave killed ye, lad."
At six and ten years of age, Valent knew he was much too old to have an old man speak for him. "I will do it. Do not be speaking for me, Tavish. If the laird gets angry, let it be with me."
"Drink this," Tavish forced a cup of vile smelling liquid to his lips. "All of it."
Within moments, he could barely keep his eyes open.
"Do not send for Meagan, please..." his word were slurred and he fought not to sleep. "I beg ye, Tavish." He hated it when a tear slid down his face. "I must compete tomorrow or any chance for me as an archer is gone."
There was doubt in Tavish's gaze. "Ye will be fine, lad."
"My God, Valent, what happened to you?" Meagan's worried eyes took in his bruised face. A sad sight he must be. Valent groaned, squeezed his eyes shut and prayed she did not bring her daughter. The fair Lora would never look upon him with admiration, not after seeing him like this.
Meagan placed a wet cloth on his brow. "One day you will grow to be broader and bigger than whoever did this and you will take your revenge. Poor thing, look at you."
"You won't be able to compete for the archer guard now." Lora's familiar sing-song voice made Valent cringe.
Tavish coughed and cleared his throat. "Of course, he will. And teach the lot of them how much better he is."
Even though there was pride in Tavish's words, they angered Valent. It was doubtful he'd be considered. Especially since losing his prize kill when running from Donall and his brothers.
The next day each step brought a streak of pain up Valent's right leg, but he refused to use a walking stick for support when going to the main keep. He entered the dark interior ensuring to take measured steps. Just inside a small antechamber, a high-pitched voice called. "What happened to you?" Ariana, the laird's daughter's rounded eyes met his before taking in the rest of his face. The girl didn't move from the chair where she lounged while continuing to study him.
The color of autumn leaves, he'd never seen eyes like hers. The first time he'd seen her up close, he was seven years old and she a child of about four. He never forgot her coming to him and attempting to take his hand, asking him to play with her.
"Your brothers," he replied to the young girl who gasped, her mouth forming an "O."
"They are no better than the beasties they hunt," she told him and came closer to inspect his injuries. "Da won't do anything to them. Ye may as well just go back home." She shrugged as if no longer interested and returned to her seat.
Footsteps sounded and he whirled to find the laird standing in the doorway. "What are you doing in here?"
"I called him in," Ariana piped up behind him. "He was limping and I wanted to know what happened."
The laird's gaze was cold and distant when meeting his. "You're the boy Tavish took in are you not?"
Valent bowed his head. "Aye, my laird."
"I hear good things about your archery skills." The laird's comment surprised him. "I suppose your injuries will stop you from competing tomorrow."
"Nay. I will compete still." He gulped back at not addressing him correctly. "I beg forgiveness, my laird, you did not ask the question of me."
"’Tis fine." The man waived his apology
away. "How did you become injured?"
Realization dawned. It was best not to confess the truth of his injuries. If the laird became angry with him, it would be impossible to win a place with the archer guards. He'd remain a stable boy with no aspiration to ever defend his people, his laird.
The laird lifted a brow in question. "Well?"
Ariana got to her feet and stood beside her father. "Donall, Ceardac, and Beathan beat him."
Of course, the girl would enjoy seeing her brother's punished. The fact the boys would then take it out on him was not something she'd ever consider.
"Go to your chamber, Ariana." The laird let out a weary breath before addressing him.
"So the hunting prize, the doe, presented yesterday was not Donall's kill?" The laird waited on his reply, his gaze without warmth.
Valent knew his best chance at the laird allowing him to compete without a kill would be based on how he answered. "I was not at the presentation of the kills, as Tavish was tending to my wounds. Therefore, I canna say, my laird."
The McLeod nodded and looked away. "I see."
He hoped the laird would allow him to compete, but when permission was not forthcoming, he waited to be dismissed. Instead the laird turned away from him. "I've always wondered." The laird paced with his hands grasped behind his back. "Who took you from your home to deposit you at my doorstep and why? You were but three or four at the most. When the housekeeper found you, it was as if you'd just been promptly deposited. Not overly malnourished, nor mistreated. Barely able to speak as you were too young. And you don't remember anything?"
Although he wanted to leave and immediately see how well he could shoot, hearing of his arrival made him curious. Tavish had discovered him when he'd been fighting for food scraps in the courtyard. The old man had taken pity on him and took him to live with him. He'd already been at the keep for a few weeks by then.
"I would one day like to know where I came from. Why I was abandoned. I only vaguely remember a brother, a boy."
"You may compete tomorrow. Without a kill to your name, it will take great skill to beat out the others." The laird eyed his bruised face and bandaged left wrist. "With your injuries I doubt ye will overcome."
"Thank you, my laird." Valent bowed his head. "By the end of the day, I hope to pledge my bow and myself to ye."
// End of Excerpt//
Table of Contents
The Laird's DaughterAmazon Bestselling AuthorHildie McQueenPink Door PublishingCover Artist: Robin Lu...
Other Works by Hildie McQueen
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Thank you for reading The Laird's Daughter
Excerpt from Highlander, The ArcherChapter One
The Laird's Daughter, Moriag Series, Book 4 Page 5