Wildly Romantic: A Multi-Genre Collection

by Lana Williams

  “Onyx, I don’t understand my attraction to you, but all I know is that it feels so right to be in your arms.” She reached down and kissed him on the chest and when she looked back up she noticed his eyes were squeezed closed. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “Don’t you like this?”

  “How could I no’ like it?” he asked her. “I ken I’m considered a madman, but ye, me dear temptress, are drivin’ me madder than I’ve e’er been in me life.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t turn her away. She was feeling alive for the first time in a long time and she really wanted to explore this feeling further.

  “I dinna want ye tellin’ yer king I defiled ye when we get back te England. I canna jeopardize me mathair’s life, if ye ken what I mean.”

  “I admire your loyalty to your mother, Onyx. And I must say I’ve never met a man who was such a barbarian and such a gentleman at the same time. I want to make love with you, Onyx, and if we do I swear this will be our little secret. No one needs to know what we’ve done. If you agree to it, than I have no qualms about moving forward.”

  “I willna tell a soul, me lady, I promise ye thet. No one will e’er ken we’ve coupled except us.”

  “Good then,” she said, tracing her finger around his nipple in a circle. “I am looking forward to this, and only hope you are too.”

  “I didna get te drink in yer beauty last night. And I’ve been achin’ te taste ye since I met ye.”

  “You just did,” she said. “We’ve just kissed.” She reached out and kissed him again, and this time he rolled atop her, straddling her with his strong thighs.

  “I wanna taste e’ery bit o’ yer bonnie body and won’t stop until I hear ye scream out with passion like a banshee on the moors.”

  “The way that triplet was going to scream when you took her in the stable?” she asked.

  “Nay,” he answered. “She woulda screamed out in lust. I wanna hear ye scream with passion, and I intend te please ye in e’ery way possible.” He lowered his mouth to her breast then, running his tongue around in slow circles until her nipple peaked. She arched her back and felt her breathing labor. Then he did the same to the other side, and with his hand teased her other nipple.

  “You are driving me crazy,” she said through ragged breathing, feeling a newfound warmth and wetness between her thighs.

  “Guid,” he said softly, looking down at her, his long hair hanging in front of one eye. “Then we will both be mad.” He lowered his head to her chest, his tongue shooting out to lick her all the way down to her navel. “Ye taste so sweet and succulent.” He looked up and licked his lips. “I canna wait te taste the rest o’ ye as well.”

  “The rest?” she asked, not knowing what he meant until his head dipped down below her waist. He brought her legs up and around him, burying his face in her wetness as his tongue worked magic. “Oh!” she screamed out, now knowing what he meant. She felt her resolve diminish, and all that mattered was what she was feeling at this very second.

  She felt her womanly passion stirring within, her body tingling, and a moan of pleasure left her lips.

  “Thet’s right, lassie,” he said looking up to her from his crouching position, his eyes looking like a wildcat stalking his prey. “Let me hear ye scream out,” he said. “No one can hear ye.” Then his head was lowered again and she felt a sensation she’d never felt in her life.

  She cried out, finding her release though they’d yet to actually couple. Still, she could do nothing to stop the feelings that were overtaking her, and neither did she want to.

  “Do ye like this lassie?” he asked, his hands skimming over her hips and back up her body. His actions were slow and controlled, and driving her over the edge.

  “I – I do,” she said, and swallowed deeply, not knowing how this could feel any better until he slowly pushed his hardened form into her, little by little, making her moan in passionate surrender. “I need to feel – all of you. Please,” she cried out, teetering on the brink of another release.

  “Then ye shall,” he said, slipping his full, hard length inside her, awakening a part of her that had been basically dead for a very long time.

  She’d never felt foreplay before. And she’d never had the act of coupling last this long. She’d never been sated, yet she was about to feel that way again for the second time during the same act.

  He moved back and forth slowly at first, taking his time, letting her body get accustomed to his size and also the dance. Then her hips moved on their own, and she felt her inner muscles tightening around him, squeezing him and teasing him the way he did to her.

  She looked up and saw him holding himself up so as not to smash her with his weight. His eyes were closed and a deep moan echoed from his throat. The fire still burned in the cave and she knew he must have tended it during the night.

  The firelight danced against their bodies and threw shadows against the cave wall, only exciting her more. Their silhouettes, a man and a woman making love, danced on the stone walls, the flames of the fire causing their shadows to be very tall. It was magical, mystical, and exciting, and her eyes roamed from the shadows of lovemaking on the wall back to Onyx atop her, his eyes now wide open and staring into her.

  “God’s eyes, Lady Love, this feels like heaven.”

  “I agree,” she said, climbing higher to the precipice of fulfillment, her body pushing against his harder, wanting as much of him as she could possibly take in.

  Then her head went back of its own volition and she cried out again her pent up passion and desire that had been hidden inside of her for years. The sound of her cries of completion echoed against the walls of the cave, seeming to excite him beyond control. They rutted like animals on the ground instead of in a bed, and she found that a side of her was wild and willing. She’d let go of the proper way she was raised and threw caution to the wind, living the way this wild Highlander lived. It felt good. Really good, and she wouldn’t change this for anything in the world.

  He drove into her now with more force and vigor, his breathing becoming very heavy, a low growl coming from the back of his throat. Then with a few more thrusts, he threw back his head and . . . howled. She laughed inwardly knowing he truly was a Scottish Highland madman after all.

  His lifeforce spilled into her and she felt his essence intermingling with hers. Then, when they were both sated, he fell to his back and lay next to her, staring up at the roof of the cave.

  She lay against his chest for a while, and when both their breathing had returned to normal, she decided to be the one to say something first.

  “That was wonderful, Onyx. Thank you.”

  She waited for his words of endearment back to her, but he was silent. She wondered if he was regretting this, and hoped he wasn’t. “Onyx, you don’t regret this, do you?” she asked. Still, no response. She reached out her hand to touch his chest, and that’s when she realized she couldn’t see or feel him breathing.

  “Onyx?” She sat up quickly, his arm that was around her falling with a thump to the ground. “Are you all right?” she asked, noticing his eyes were open and staring without blinking. “What’s the matter?” She jumped to her feet, then hunkered back down and shook him slightly. “Say something. Please.”

  He didn’t speak, nor did he move. He didn’t blink and he didn’t seem to be breathing either. She noticed his skin turning a darker shade, and though she couldn’t see colors in the dimness, she knew without a doubt he was turning blue.

  “Onyx!” she screamed, getting to her feet, fear gripping her heart. They had just spent the most magical moments together, the best time of her life, and now . . . now she had killed him. Yes, Onyx was dead and it was all her fault.

  She cried hysterically, not knowing what to do, then she heard voices from outside of the cave calling.

  “Dagger, are ye in there?”

  She knew his friends were coming to look for him and now she would have to tell them that she had killed him
with her lovemaking. She heard their footsteps coming closer, and turned and grabbed Onyx’s leine and donned it quickly to hide her nakedness from his friends’ eyes.

  “Dagger? Is thet ye in there?” Aidan stuck his head inside the entrance of the cave, and then turned around and talked to someone else. “I found him, he’s in here,” he called out. Then he noticed her standing there and turned his head and shouted again. “We’re in luck, Lady Lovelle is here as well.”

  He ducked and entered the cave, his head nearly scraping the ceiling. Ian walked in right behind him, and since he was even taller, he had to bend over slightly as he made his way toward her until they were able to stand straight as the cave widened.

  “We wondered what happened te ye,” said Aidan with concern in his voice.

  Lovelle rushed forward and threw herself into Aidan’s arms, tears streaming from her eyes.

  “I am so sorry. I didn’t know my lovemaking would kill him or I never would have done it.”

  “Lassie, calm down,” said Aidan, “I dinna understand what ye’re sayin’.”

  “I think I do,” said Ian, looking at Onyx lying dead on the floor. Then he started to laugh, and Aidan looked at Onyx and laughed as well.

  “What in God’s name is wrong with you two?” she asked, pounding her fists against Aidan’s chest.

  “Och, lassie dinna hurt me,” he said, grabbing her fists and holding them in his hands.

  Then, to her utter horror, the chieftain and his wife appeared at the entrance to the cave as well.

  “What’s all the dirdom aboot?” asked the chieftain, entering the cave with his wife right behind him.

  “Oh, Clarista, I killed him,” she said, running to the woman who gathered her up into her arms as if she were her mother. Clarista looked over to Onyx’s naked body lying on the floor and then turned her face away quickly.

  “Husband, go cover his body,” she told him. “I can’t look at him lying there like that.”

  The chieftain walked over and stared down at him and just shook his head. “He’s deid all right,” he said, taking the plaid and throwing it over his body as well as his face. “I’ll miss the lad.”

  Aidan and Ian just continued to laugh, and Lovelle could not believe how heartless and insensitive they were being.

  “Stop laughing!” she demanded. “There is nothing funny. Onyx saved me from drowning in the lake yesterday and now because of it – because of me, he’s lost his life instead.”

  “Dinna fash yerself,” said Ian with a careless wave of his hand. “He’s no’ deid.”

  “That’s right,” said Aidan, pulling a wineskin from his belt. He removed the plaid from Onyx’s face and emptied the wine over his friend’s head.

  “What are you doing?” she screamed, rushing to him and pushing him out of the way.

  “It’s all right,” he told her, dropping the wineskin atop Onyx’s chest. “He’ll awake any moment now.” But when nothing happened, his smile slowly faded.

  “Thet’s right,” agreed Ian. “Jest give it a moment, and he’ll wake up.”

  They both stood there with their arms crossed over their chests, then they just looked at each other and shrugged.

  “Ye fools, he canna wake up,” said the chieftain. “He is deid.”

  “Did we ferget somethin’?” asked Aidan, scratching his head.

  “Och, aye, we did.” Ian walked over, and to Lovelle’s utter shock and surprise, he started kicking his dead friend in the side.

  “Stop it!” Clarista pushed Ian out of the way and dropped to her knees next to Onyx. “That is no way to treat your best friend even if he is dead.”

  “He’s no’ deid,” said Aidan. “Is he?”

  That was all Lovelle could take. She rushed to his side and kneeled down next to Onyx, and started smothering him with kisses. “I’m so sorry,” she said over and over again, and laid her head atop his chest.

  Then, like a miracle, Onyx gasped for breath and his hand came up and he gripped the back of Lovelle’s hair tightly. She felt the pain and saw the crazed look in his eyes, but she didn’t care. She was so happy to see him alive that she covered his body with hers, and now she was laughing.

  “I thought you were dead,” she said. “Oh, Onyx, I am so happy you’re alive. What happened?”

  He sat up and blinked and then looked around at the others in the room. He rubbed his wet face and tasted the wine on his hand.

  “Who dumped wine on me and was kickin’ me?” he growled. Aidan and Ian just looked the other way.

  “They were trying to bring you back,” said Lovelle, looking at his friends. “I think. What happened, Onyx?”

  “I’ll tell ye aboot it later,” he said, getting up so quickly that his covering fell off and exposed his nakedness again. Clarista quickly got up and took her husband’s hand. “We’ll meet you back at camp,” she said leading him out the door.

  “I thought of somethin’ while I was . . . deid so te speak,” said Onyx walking over to the wall and kneeling, feeling around the rocks piled there. “I used te always sleep here when I wanted te be along. Me mathair knew thet. I think I see somethin’. Come here, Lady Love, I wanna show ye somethin’ I think ye’re goin’ te really like.”

  “I dinna think I want te stay and watch this,” said Ian, heading for the door. When he noticed Aidan just standing there, he came back and grabbed his friend and pulled him with him. “No threesomes today,” he muttered under his breath.

  “We’ll meet ye back at camp,” said Aidan as they exited the cave.

  “What is it?” asked Lovelle, hurrying to his side.

  He pulled away a few rocks and reached down between them and grabbed something and held it up for her to see. It was a small wooden chest with a curved lid with holes carved in the design at the top. He opened it slowly and looked inside, then smiled and looked up to her.

  “What is it?” she asked again, the anticipation within her growing.

  “I jest found somethin’,” said Onyx, holding up a leather bound book in one hand. She looked at him, not believing what she was seeing.

  “Onyx?” she asked. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Aye, lassie,” he said with a smile. “I jest found yer mathair’s Book of Hours. So now, I can save me own mathair from the gallows.”

  Chapter 9

  Lovelle took the book gingerly into her hands, running her finger over the leather bound cover. So this was the Book of Hours. The book, that is, that held the charms she needed in order to free her mother from her madness.

  She flipped it open carefully, and turned a few pages, seeing the beautiful illuminations and miniatures painted by some monk years ago.

  “This is beautiful,” she said, holding it out for Onyx to see, remembering the vibrant colors from when she was a child. The gold leaf outlined the images of the Virgin Mary, Jesus, and scenes from the Bible that were painted in colors of red, blue, yellow and shades of green. The prayers were written in black ink, very precise and orderly. The first letter of every page was enlarged, and ornate with curling vines and animals and images within it.

  “What is this book aboot?” asked Onyx, looking over her shoulder curiously.

  “It is a Book of Hours, Onyx.” She looked at him, but by his blank expression, she could see he didn’t understand. “This is a book of prayers and devotion. Look here,” she said, pointing at a page, “There is a calendar in the front with the important feast days of the saints, and then the book is divided up into prayers for each of the eight prayer sessions of the day, such as matins or vespers or lauds.”

  “This sounds as if it belongs in an abbey,” he said.

  “They do have them in monasteries,” she informed him. “Actually, a lot of the work in these books is done by monks. My mother told me that this was a gift to her from my father. It was in his family for close to the last century. Look at this picture at the beginning of the Gradual Psalms. It is a picture of my mother – the owner of the book. They painted
her on the page reading the book and being looked down upon by angels.”

  “Yer mathair is in the book?” His eyes followed her finger as she pointed to the page.

  “She used to read to me from this when I was a child. The opening words of the psalm are ‘In my trouble I cried to the Lord: and he heard me.’ Some of the prayers in here for instance are, the Hours of the Virgin, the Litany, and the Office of the Dead.”

  “Office of the Deid? I think I may have te read thet one,” he said with a chuckle. “I can see why it means so much te ye, especially if yer mathair’s picture is painted inside. ’Tis beautiful and valuable. I can also see why me mathair wanted te steal it.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t sell it for coin,” said Lovelle, flipping through the pages. “It could have brought a lot of money to your clan.”

  “No doubt she liked it too much te part with it,” he said, shaking his head with a look of disgust upon his face. “Though me mathair could no’ read, so must o’ kept it fer the pictures.”

  “It is mostly in Latin,” she told him. “And since the original paintings were done in France, some of it is in French as well.” She looked at Onyx, curious to know if he could read, as it was usually uncommon unless one was of the laity or a noble. “Can you read and write?” she asked him.

  He looked to the ground before he answered. “Clarista was the one te teach us all what little we ken. I am no’ very guid at it, but Storm is skilled in many languages, and he made sure me and me friends knew Gaelic like the back o’ our hands. He was a guid teacher.”

  “So you can read Gaelic?” she asked anxiously, her heart beating faster. She knew the charms were written in Gaelic, and though she was skilled at several languages, this was not one of them. She just hoped Onyx would help her.

  “I jest told ye thet, lassie. Are ye sayin’ ye dinna believe me?”

  “No, not at all,” she said, flipping to the back of the book. “But there is something in here that I need you to read for me, as I do not know Gaelic.”

  “Of course, Lady Love,” he said, taking the book from her and smiling. Until he saw the page and then the smile disappeared. “What is this all aboot?” he asked, his mouth turning down and his eyes narrowing as he read the words to himself that were painted on the page.