While the meal progressed, the laird and Conor spoke in hushed tones. From where she sat, Victoria could not make out what they said, so she watched closely and strained to read their lips.
Sensing her regard, Conor's gaze took hers. Her heart leapt at the scorching heat in his eyes, and she swallowed past her suddenly dry throat.
When he lifted a corner of his mouth, a gesture only she would notice it sent a ripple of acknowledgement trickling from her belly to further down. He focused on the frantic pulse at her throat and her hand instinctively flew up to cover the area. She scanned the room, thankfully everyone was either too busy eating or talking to notice.
…"You'll be leaving on the morrow…" Calum, who appeared to notice his brother's lack of attention, spoke louder. The words directed at Conor slammed Victoria's pulse to a near stop. Terror enveloped her, and at once the food on her plate had lost all appeal.
No, Conor couldn’t leave they had only just arrived. Other than Mary, she knew no one. Although she considered Conor a brute, she felt he was the only one who would protect her from whatever the laird decided to do with her.
A prisoner more than guest, she didn't dare guess how the McDougall clan would treat her, an English interloper, once her protector went away.
He'd take her with him or stay. Victoria refused to stay behind without her safeguard. A sense of foreboding propelled her to take action.
Once the evening meal ended, she would await the perfect opportunity and speak to Conor. First, she'd have to find him alone. Once they could speak, she would bring up the fact that he'd taken her and brought her to Somerset by force, therefore, lawfully he was now her keeper and protector.
If he still had to go on whatever business his brother sent him on, then she'd suggest going with him. He would not refuse her. Surely he held some honor.
Victoria looked across the table at Conor, he studied her in return with a stern expression. His brow creased, an air of apprehension, or perhaps even worry on his face.
She wondered if he was reluctant to take leave of her as well. Could it be that he, too, feared for her safety?
Surely she'd become addled to think the imposing Scot would defend her or keep her safe. It seemed in the midst of chaos, after everything she'd lost in recent days she wasn’t thinking straight. Nonetheless, even if she wasn't sure why, the stark truth of it stood. His presence, as overwhelming as it was, did give her a sense of security.
Chapter Four
Victoria paced the small bedroom and waited for the house to become quiet. With the ready excuse of becoming lost while searching for the library, she exited her chamber and made her way toward the study she'd spotted earlier.
From the study's doorway, she would have a clear view of Conor's chamber door.
The dark hallway forced her to slow her pace. Her steps growing more hesitant the nearer she got. Victoria hoped to find him in the study, a more proper place to meet with him alone. But if not, would she dare go to his bedroom?
From the hallway Victoria peered into the dark room, it was empty. Now that she'd not found him in the study she stood outside the door and waited in the darkness and prayed he'd appear. Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long.
Without a sound, Conor's large figure obscured the soft light at the end of the corridor. He walked past without noticing her and went directly into his chamber.
Her heart pounded so loud she wouldn't hear if another person approached so Victoria scanned the surrounding to ensure no one else was about. Finding the area empty, she scurried on soft-slippered feet to Conor's chamber. After a quick rap on the door, she turned the knob.
"Oh, God," Victoria whispered, losing her nerve. At the precise moment she lost the courage to enter and took a step back, the heavy door flew open.
"Damn it! Calum! Can we leave the conversation until…?" Conor, who obviously expected his brother, stopped mid-sentence when he saw her.
Wishing not to be seen at his doorway, she rushed inside and pushed the door closed. He continued to stare at her as if she'd lost her senses.
"I know it is compromising to be in your room at night...well really at any time," Victoria sputtered. "I must speak with you. It is of utmost importance."
Regaining his composure, his face became devoid of expression, Conor leaned on the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I'm listening Miss Westcott."
Victoria hesitated. To find the right words and not sound like a ninny became impossible. She found herself in such close proximity to this magnificent man. He would never believe that she was afraid to be left behind at Somerset Keep. Not after the way she'd stood up to him and his men on the journey.
"I overheard your brother state you are leaving tomorrow." She flushed and looked away. "What will become of me? You said I am here as your guest. Will your brother allow me to remain as such with you gone?"
Conor nodded. "Aye. I confirmed with Calum you would remain my guest, for now. He agreed."
"For now?"
"Until I return. At which time, we can discuss your future," Conor explained with a bored tone.
Victoria wanted to shake him. He didn't seem to appreciate how unstable her life was at the moment, how precarious her hold on composure. Annoyed at the fear that threatened, she took a breath and could not suppress trembling. How could she not be distressed, after all not only was she here against her will, but now he planned to abandon her.
Victoria squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I have told you repeatedly. My brother is Captain Jamie Westcott, the well-known privateer. He is a force to be reckoned with. You should make every attempt to send him word that I am here and unharmed. My brother will come for me with haste."
"With a battle ship or two, no doubt?"
"Not if I send a letter explaining that you not only rescued me, but also kept me from harm."
"And why would you do it, when I murdered the lord of a family which you claimed to be a friend of?” His laugh was without mirth. "And your brother would he believe that I happened to be in England during an attack and dashed in to save you?"
"You didn't have to kill Darien. You...you could have resolved the matter in a different way."
"Lord Turner deserved to die Miss Westcott. He attacked my sister and killed her escorts. The changes to her life are permanent. I could not allow him to live."
Thinking of her cruel husband made Victoria cringe. Thankfully the expression could be mistaken for distress at his words. "I must admit that although I don't agree with your methods, I understand your need to avenge Lord Turner's brutal treatment of your sister and her escorts. Additionally, I don't wish any harm to come to your family, especially Cailyn. She has been through enough. I need to know you will do something and not just keep me for an undetermined amount of time in Scotland."
"I will consider it and discuss it with my brother upon my return." He turned toward the door, as he was about to dismiss her.
"No McDougall, you will decide now" Victoria insisted.
Without speaking he locked the door, moved to a chair by the lit fireplace and casually sat down. He motioned for her to be seated on the other chair. "If you wish to have a conversation, it may be best if we sit."
She remained standing and shook her head. "This is not a friendly visit. I demand to send word to my brother at daylight. I will accompany you on your travels in the meantime. I do not wish to remain here."
His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why do you want to go with me?" Focused on her, he stood and moved closer, his bulk blocking the fireplace. "I don't believe you will enjoy the battlefield, Miss Westcott. You will be fine here. No need to be fearful. My brother will ensure you are kept safe."
"The battlefield?" Victoria paled. "What if you die?"
"It would be a pity, I suppose," he replied without worry. "Although it is but a border clash with a rival clan. Our presence more a show of force, really." He leaned closer. "Would you shed a tear for me if I were to meet my demise, Miss Westcott
?"
He moved to stand between her and the doorway. The man exuded an essence that made Victoria want to lean into him. She wanted to beg him to allow her to go with him. Instead, she clenched her fists tight to keep from throwing herself into his arms. "Truth be told, I don't actually want to go with you. But I am astute enough to know I am not wanted here, therefore I have little choice. Your brother's wife does not wish me to remain. Her glares throughout dinner were a clear message." Victoria became more frantic with each word, angered not just at the stubborn Scot, but also at the trembling in her voice. "I can be of use. I grew up with two brothers. Between them and their friends, I have bandaged a wound or two."
He remained impassive without speaking, but instead rewarding her with a blank expression. She wouldn't beg. "Well, since it's clear you will not bend on this, I inform you now. If you leave me here I will run away and McDougall, I will succeed." She tried walking around him, but he caught her arm. She swung around to say something, but at once found herself flattened against his hard body.
"I have no intention of letting any harm come to you, Victoria. But I cannot allow you to come with me. It's too dangerous for a beauty like you. I cannot fight and safeguard you at the same time." It did not go unnoticed that for the first time, he used her given name.
"I can take care of myself," Victoria replied, deflated at his words. He would not change his mind.
"I need you to remain here, to wait for me."
She couldn't help but notice his enticing lips, dip in his strong chin. "I cannot."
At once, his mouth pressed down on hers with a hunger like she'd never experienced. It was a powerful demanding kiss. While in contrast, his hands were soft and gentle as he barely touched her arms to hold her in place.
Victoria's anger vanished. She parted her lips and moaned when his hot tongue entered, exploring her mouth fully.
Pure undiluted longing scorched a path down her body. A sensation so raw that Victoria feared she would melt into him. She allowed it free reign and became absorbed by the succulent waves of exquisite heat crashing against all her senses. Could she allow it to continue? To be his, and be made love to in a way she instinctively knew only Conor McDougall could?
When his arousal surged against her stomach, the answer became a clear yes. She wanted him to take her fully. It became a singular desire. There was no question in her mind he would instinctively know how to render her undone in a manner no man could compare.
His eyes alone had made love to her time and again. Now his lips sent her every sense to overflowing.
She longed to know what his hands could possibly do.
Victoria wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer, heaving a sigh of delight when his solid arms encircled her waist and crushed her against his heated muscular chest.
Conor's heart was beating hard against her breast, its rhythm making her desire him even more.
He lifted his head to look down at her. "I've wanted to be inside you, from the first moment when you came out of the water back at the stream." Conor's passion accompanied by the longing in his eyes, held her spellbound. "Having no thought other than to feel your heated wetness surround my cock, has been driving me mad."
A slight moan was her only reply.
He pulled the pins from her long auburn hair, allowing the tresses to float down her back.
His lips trailed down her throat and she fell captive again, this time with no desire to ever escape. Victoria urged him to continue the descent, her fingers dragging through his hair. She threw her head back to allow him more access.
"I will have you, Victoria." She gasped at Conor's heated words against her ear. "And then I will make love to you. But first it must be fast and hard for I cannot wait. I will not wait to have you."
He lifted up her skirts and slid his hand between her legs, his fingers exploring her center. Victoria bit her lip to keep from screaming. It had never been like this with her late husband, joining with him had been unpleasant and uncomfortable. Both times.
"Yes," she gasped, shocked at tingling sensations, bucking instinctively into his hand. She panted when his thumb pressed into her moist core. Like him, she could not wait another moment.
"Please," Victoria gasped, unsure what she asked from him. She moaned when he inserted a finger into her, followed by a second, which expanded her tightness.
"You feel like a virgin, so tight. It will be with pleasure that I comply with your request." Conor's hand continued its explorations between her folds, while he shoved at his breeches, freeing his cock with the other. He lifted her and pressed her back against the wall.
She gripped his shoulders when he once again slipped a finger inside of her, and when his thumb circled her sensitive core, Victoria fought not to cry out.
"Do something, I can't wait," she grunted out, pushing into his hand.
"Wrap your legs around me, so I can enter you, my beauty," Conor commanded, his strong hands surrounding her waist and lifting her. Victoria eagerly complied, wrapping her legs around his hips and crossing them at the ankles.
With a hard thrust, his engorged rod plunged into her, filling her completely.
"Augh!" Conor groaned, his warm breath against her neck. "You are more than I dreamed. You are mine now, Victoria, I cannot hold back."
He withdrew, she complained at the loss. "No," Victoria gasped, only to call out "Oh," when he drove back in.
With hard, fast strokes Conor drove in and out of her with such vigor that the slapping sounds of flesh hitting flesh battled with the sounds of their exclamations.
"So perfect, so hot and wet, just for me," Conor murmured, his words running together as he continued the delicious assault.
Victoria was so lost in her own whirlwind of sensations, that she could only repeat his name over and over, until her body shuddered and her inner walls quaked in release. She let out a long cry, which he muffled with his lips.
His tongue probed deep into her mouth keeping rhythm with his hips, until he too, cried out. With one last deep thrust, he released his heated seed within her. For a few moments, the clung to each other, both breathing hard.
Conor pulled out and lowered Victoria gently onto the floor keeping his hands on her waist.
"We'll make love now," his darkened eyes washed over her. "Can you make it to the bed?"
When she nodded, he released her and untied the stays holding his tunic together. Only when he lifted it over his head did he remove his gaze from her.
His lips curved when he noticed her eyes traveled across the plains of his exposed body. His well-formed wide shoulders seemed even larger without clothing to cover them. His muscular arms framed a fully developed chest and a rippled flat stomach. His hips were narrow, and his bulky manhood, once again eager for her.
"Can you handle me again so soon?" Conor seemed to read her thoughts.
"Teach me how to please you more", Victoria stammered. Her eyes locked onto his bulging shaft. Conor walked toward the bed and stood with arms hanging to his sides. "Remove your clothes first," he raised an eyebrow, daring her.
Victoria bit her lip. Two could play this game. Still a bit wobbly on her feet, she went to the side table, poured a glass of water and drank slowly, her gaze roaming from his eyes, to his lips, down his beautifully chiseled chest, to finally rest on his rigid display of arousal.
She placed the empty glass down, and with one hand pushed her blouse down from her shoulder, then mirrored the movement at the other. Cailyn's borrowed clothes were large on her, it was an easy task to loosen the skirt and allow it to fall and pool at her feet.
With only her sheer chemise left, she stepped away from the clothing and stood still. She lifted her gaze up to meet the eyes of the man who now owned her full attention.
After deciding it best to reveal herself to him from top to bottom, she finally worked at untying the ribbons at the front of the chemise. Victoria gasped when Conor picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her upon it, her le
gs dangling over the edge.
"I cannot wait any longer, wench. What have you done to me that I must have you again so soon?"
"But I wanted to pleasure you first," Victoria began but stopped when he spread her legs and stared down at the most private part of her. She attempted to pull her legs closed, but he held her exposed, wide-open to him.
"No do not cover yourself, not from me. You are beautiful to look upon, perfect even." He leaned closer and a rush of heated embarrassment surged over her.
"Conor, please stop, I don't know what you plan, but it cannot be right," Victoria hated the prudish words. But while married, her husband had not once seen her fully undressed, had actually ensured she dressed in full nightclothes before coming to bed.
The handsome man lifted his eyes to her. "To have this before me and not taste of it would be an injustice."
He lowered until his mouth covered her core, and Victoria lost her ability to breathe. When he suckled, pulled back, and flicked his tongue over her swollen nub, Victoria's hips came up off the bed, only to be pushed back into place and held down by Conor, who continued to savor her with his lips, teeth and tongue.
Unable to withstand the assault to her senses, Victoria lost total control and thrashed until she came with so much force, that everything went dark.
And through it, Conor's tongue continued to stroke, keeping her from descending.
"Oh, I can't believe it," she gasped when she finally settled.
"Would you like to soar again?" Conor murmured against her thigh, his hot tongue tracing a devilish circle.
"I couldn't possibly…"
"You can," His tongue flicked her center once again. Conor did not stop, bringing her to near release again before kissing his way up her body.
Even with her body pliant and so fully sated, Victoria would not go back on her decision to satisfy Conor. She must return the favor. Sliding his arm under her knees and arms, he lifted her up to allow her to slide onto the center of the bed. She used her legs as leverage, and pushed Conor over to his back.
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