by Samatha Holt
His belief in her indifference and coldness had diminished throughout the eve too. He’d recognised her fear and was convinced that her reaction to him was one borne of that. No young woman wanted to be married to a stranger, let alone a man from a clan that she had been taught to hate. Niall watched her as she continued to see to their kinsman, putting their needs before hers, and he realised that a dutiful heart lay beneath that cold exterior. She sparked his curiosity and he desperately wanted to see who the real Anna Mackenzie was.
Niall searched the chambers but found no sign of her. Was she hiding? He could hardly picture her cowering under a bed somewhere. He continued until he reached the door to the ramparts. Mayhap she was up here. He often took to claiming solitude on the roof of his own keep when the demands of lairdship became too much. Mayhap they were more similar than he had realised.
The door was ajar and he could just make out her outline, bathed by the cold glow of the moon. She sat hunched, her arms wrapped about her knees and her chin upon them, as if embracing herself. Niall pushed open the door, wincing as it creaked, and Anna turned with a start, drawing in a sharp breath.
“Anna, forgive me,” he murmured as he pushed the door shut.
“Nay, don’t-”
“I must,” he said as the door closed with a clunk.
Anna sighed. “Nay, ye fool. Donnae shut the door. It locks from inside to keep intruders out. Once the latch goes down, there’s no way o’ opening it from this side. Ack, ye stupid fool, now we’ll be stuck out here.”
Niall stared at Anna and then at the door. He tilted his head and eyed the solid wood. “Ah, ye talkin’ to a Sinclair, lassie. I’ll have that door down in no time.”
Squaring up to the door, he slammed his shoulder into it, biting back a howl of pain as his shoulder juddered with the impact.
“Stop it!” Anna shouted as he attempted it again. She came suddenly to her feet and jumped in front of him. “Stop,” she said softly. “Ye’ll do yerself an injury. The watchmen will be up in the morning. We’ll just have to wait the night.”
“Can we call for someone?”
“Ye’ll have no luck getting anyone to hear ye from up here. They’re all too deep in their cups to hear.”
Clutching his shoulder, he moved his arm and his joint screamed in protest. The pain must have been clear on his face as Anna tugged on his good arm and forced him to sit on the cold stone. She pressed her fingers into the joint and rubbed at it carefully. He watched her face, his pain completely forgotten.
“It pleases me to see this side o’ ye, lass.”
A smile twitched on her lips as she looked up at him. “What? The docile, wifely side o’ me?”
“Nay, the kind-hearted side o’ yer.”
She laughed depreciatively. “And not the one full o’ hatred?”
Niall felt a stab of remorse for his careless words, particularly when he saw the hurt that still lingered in her expression. She was softer than he had realised. But the knowledge that his opinion mattered to her pleased him. If he could just take back his words, he felt sure that they could settle their differences.
Unable to resist, he ran a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. “I did come to ye to beg yer forgiveness. I was trying to stop my father from…from expecting too much o’ ye. I know ye have no love for me or the Sinclairs and I wouldna expect ye to happily take on the role o’ mistress of us all.”
“And how would ye know what to expect from me? Ye know naught o’ me.”
“Aye, I know little o’ ye, lass, but I hope to change that. Ye are fiery and loyal, I admire that. But my father wants a woman like my mother. I feared him being disappointed.”
Finished with his arm, she settled down next to him, curling her feet underneath herself and staring out at the moonlight. Niall wondered if she was aware that he was gawping at her. Now that the mask of indifference was down, her beauty seemed to increase tenfold. He traced her profile with his eyes, his gaze lingering on her lips, and desire swirled in his veins.
Anna’s gaze remained fixed upon the moon as she spoke to him. “I would no’ like to disappoint yer father. ‘Tis true, I wanted naught to do with the Sinclairs. I have heard naught but tales o’ yer viciousness and arrogance, but I am resigned to the fact that we are betrothed. I woudna turn away from my duty.”
Niall nodded and hesitantly slipped his fingers over hers. She darted a look of surprise at him but he was grateful that she did not withdraw them.
“I think I know that now, Anna. I think we’ve got a lot to learn about each other. Will ye let me learn about ye, sweet lassie?” He drew her fingers to his lips, carefully brushing each one across his mouth.
Anna gasped at the contact and her eyes seemed bigger than ever.
“Aye,” she breathed. “I’ll let ye, Laird Sinclair.”
“Niall,” he murmured against her fingers.
“Niall,” she whispered.
His name upon her lips was the undoing of him and he practically leapt forwards, dropping her hand and pressing an urgent kiss to her lips. She cried out slightly but she didn’t push him away. Instead, Anna’s hands came around his neck, clutching to him as he pushed her back.
Her mouth came open and she returned his kiss with fire. Hell’s teeth, he’d been wrong about Mackenzie women. Anna was as warm as they come. Niall wrapped his arms about her, tugging her body into him until she was sat in his lap. Her teeth nibbled at his lips and her tongue searched provocatively for his. Short on breath, he pulled away briefly.
“Ye’ve done this before,” he scolded teasingly.
She grinned up at him, her mouth glistening and swollen. “Aye, just a few harmless kisses with a few harmless laddies.”
Growling, Niall clutched her to him once more. “Never again, Anna, never again.”
She nodded mutely as he lowered his mouth upon hers once more.
***
Anna found herself drowning in a world of desire. She could think of naught but the heat of his mouth upon hers, the feel of his solid flesh flattened against hers and the taste of his tongue as it explored her mouth. His shield of arrogance had all but disappeared and Anna was amazed to discover that she liked the man underneath it. For all his teasing, he held a good heart. It astonished her that she could see that about him already.
But he’s a Sinclair, her mind whispered.
“Ye still think me vicious?” he mumbled against her lips.
“Nay…” she moaned as his lips trailed down her throat and then back up to her ear. He breathed into her ear and she shuddered as he nipped at her lobe. “Niall, wait.”
He pulled sharply away, keeping hold of her but putting a distance between them that felt cold and lonely. But she had to know…was he really different?
“What were ye…?” she licked at her lips, wondering if she’d sound a fool. “What were ye talking about with my Da’?”
A look of puzzlement came across his face at her sudden question but he smiled. “Ye donnae wannae know about the business o’ men, surely?”
“I do.”
He shrugged. “I were explaining my plans for the extension o’ the Sinclair Keep. Yer father had some good ideas and he was eager to know that his daughter would be safe.”
Anna smiled gently and brushed her hand absently across his chest. “Thank ye, Niall.”
“Lass, if yer interested, ye can take a look at the plans yerself. It’ll be yer home after all.”
Her smile broadened. He was a good man after all. No man had ever spoken to her so openly, not even her father. She saw it now. Niall would be a good husband and would respect her. He may be a Sinclair but he was a good match for her. Mayhap the only match for her.
“Can I kiss ye again, now yer done interrogating me?” He asked as a hand snaked up underneath her hair.
“Aye, if ye insist, Laird Sinclair.”
“Niall,” he growled as melded his lips to hers.
“Niall,” she moaned, her body arching up t
o meet his as his hand caressed her back.
Anna trailed a path across his exposed collar bone, the only place that she could find bare flesh and she felt Niall shudder as her finger dipped down slightly. Her need for this man grew, flaring deep inside of her and blazing through every limb. His devastating kisses seemed to steal away her very soul and rid her of all thought.
His skin scorched under her fingertips, smooth and seductively strong. She forced her hand further underneath the rough cloth of his shirt, causing the laces to loosen, and a rumble sounded in Niall’s throat as she stroked his muscled flesh, causing it to tense under her attentions.
While she began to revel in the feeling of power his reactions gave her, Niall’s hand had worked under her skirt and he clutched suddenly at her soft thigh. Anna cried out at the sudden pulse that gathered between her thighs, just aching for his touch.
In a bid to torment him, as he was her, she tore her lips away from his and brushed kisses down the bristled length of his jaw until she reached his exposed chest. His hand gripped almost painfully on her thigh as she pressed fervent, open-mouthed kisses to his tanned skin.
Niall’s other hand clutched her head to him as he murmured words of ardour to her. Anna was too consumed to understand what they were, the taste of his salty flesh on her tongue was unbearably delicious, but she enjoyed the sound of his voice in the cool night air.
He fumbled with the broach that pinned her plaid around her neck and cursed as his large fingers battled with the delicate clasp. Anna’s giggle was cut off as he stood without warning, dragging her to her feet. She found herself pushed back against the battlement wall and Niall wrenched her plaid from her, her broach flying off and ricocheting off the stone. Glancing to her side, she watched as it tumbled down the length of the keep and disappeared into the darkness.
Niall pressed his body over hers, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes flashed with desire as her breasts were crushed under the unyielding strength of his chest, and his hands came up either side of her head, effectively trapping her. Her heart raced, not from fear, but from utter desire.
One hand remained against the wall but the other traced the curve of her side, following it down until he reached the swell of her hip. His fingers gripped at her hip before coming around to cup at her bottom. Anna registered the heated length of his sex as he coaxed her to flatten her hips against his. The pulsing ache strengthened and she shifted against him.
“Ack, ye’ll be the death o’ me, lass.”
Anna just grinned and grabbed at his face to bring him down for a kiss. His stubble scratched at her tender skin and she savoured it, the slight rasp assuring her that this was indeed real.
Their kisses became more frenzied and Niall stopped massaging her bottom, bringing his hand up between them so he could cup at her aching breasts. His frantic movements delighted Anna and she writhed underneath him as his manhood pressed roughly into her. Their breaths came in heavy pants, misting in the air around them and he kneaded at her flesh mercilessly, pinching at her hardened tips until she cried out.
“I cannae control myself, lassie,” he murmured apologetically.
Anna shook her head. “I donnae want ye too. Touch me again, Niall.”
He cursed and gripped impatiently at her once more. Anna relished his loss of control but she was acutely aware that hers was not far from shattering. Niall tugged anxiously at her tunic, bunching the cloth in his hands so that the night air tickled at her legs. Fearing it may go the same way as her broach, she shoved him back so that she could tear it over her head.
He sucked in a breath as she laughed and tossed it to him. Niall froze momentarily, his eyes drinking her in as he clutched at the pale cloth.
“Are ye going to stand there all day, Sinclair?”
His jaw tensed. “Niall,” he grated out as he deliberately pushed into her, forcing her back through the gap in the wall.
She shuddered as the cold stone hit her back and she found herself lying across the dip in the wall, staring up at the clear night sky. He ran his hands over her flushed skin, pausing to pluck at her nipples and sliding between her legs. Niall laid the flat of his palm against the juncture of her thighs, pressing but remaining agonisingly still. Anna ground against it in frustration and she noted the satisfaction in his gaze as she moaned.
Drunken laughter rang out and Anna realised that some of the revellers had taken to drinking in the courtyard. The thrill of knowing that she was entirely naked in the arms of this virile man while they drank unknowingly beneath her seemed incredibly erotic to Anna.
Niall’s finger dipped several times into her slippery heat, a light teasing touch, and Anna bit back a scream of exasperation. He traced her folds, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Niall!” she cried in anguish, unable to bear it a moment longer.
He chuckled and pressed deeply into her, causing her back to lift from the stone, but as she luxuriated in the feeling of such a sweet invasion, he withdrew his finger and dropped to his knees in front of her. Before she could protest at the absence of his hand, he had parted her legs and begun kissing up the delicate skin of her thighs.
Anna’s eyes widened as she watched his head move closer to her juncture. His eyes still clung to hers as she lifted her head from the stone to follow his progress but then his tongue touched at her sex and her head tilted back, her hair grazing the stone wall. The feeling of Niall’s tongue on her wet flesh made her forget any discomfort - all she could focus on was the beautifully decadent sensations that surged through her as his tongue probed her entrance. Niall swept over her responsive centre, teasing at it before taking it in his teeth.
Anna clutched at his shoulders, jerking her hips in time with his licks and sucks. Her nails dug into his skin but he paid little heed, apparently savouring the taste of her. Her body began to fold into itself as the pleasure became almost unbearable, but Niall kept hold of her hips, forcing her to accept the onslaught of his tongue. His dipped in again and ruthlessly sucked at her until she came apart, ripples of ecstasy spilling through her.
As she gathered her breath and collected her senses, Niall came to his feet, a smug smile stretched across his handsome face. He leant over, pressing his arm underneath her back and kissing her with an uncommon gentleness. Anna could taste herself on her lips and the smell of musk hung in the gentle breeze.
“Yer amazing when ye come, Anna.”
Anna laughed slightly. “Ye are a scoundrel, Niall Sinclair.”
She casually wound his plaid into her hands as he drew her up to sitting. The night air whispered over her skin and she shuddered. Niall held her close and she drew in the scent of him. With a quick movement, she yanked at his plaid, hearing the pop of his pin as she tore it from him. He gave a growl of surprise as Anna pushed him back and threw his plaid to one side. Wariness lingered in his eyes and she wondered if he expected her to have some form of retribution in mind.
And she did.
Carefully pressing into Niall until his back hit the tower wall behind him, she tugged at the laces of his shirt. As each lace came undone, she followed it with a kiss to his smooth skin. When they were finally loose, she tugged at the hem, drawing it up as far as she could manage. She gaped at the sight of his straining shaft, her stomach clenching with desire.
“So, the rumours are true.”
Niall blinked at her, disconcerted by her obvious perusal of him. “What rumours?”
“That Sinclair men are hung like horses.”
He chuckled, the sound tinged with relief and Anna liked that she made him feel vulnerable. Somehow she had power over this strong Highland warrior and she relished it, knowing that he held the same power over her.
“The rumours were not true about ye.”
“Watch yer tongue, Niall Sinclair.”
“Ye are not the finest lass in Scotland, but surely the finest lass in all o’ the world.”
Anna could feel her cheeks flush and Niall ran a finger over her cheek, lea
ding Anna to believe that even in the dark night he could see her blush. Determined not to be distracted by his sweet words, she yanked at his shirt until he finally gave in and tugged it off.
It was impossible for Anna to hold back her intake of breath at the sight of him. The moonlight highlighted the raw strength of his chest, a body honed through many years of fighting. Every part of him was solid yet beautiful. She laid both hands upon his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart and she realised that her hands were shaking.
She laughed inwardly. And she thought she was the one with the power. This Sinclair warrior seemed to affect her every sense but as they stood naked in front of each other a peculiar knowledge of their rightness for one another settled in her heart.
***
Niall waited, wondering what torment Anna had in mind for him. For a brief moment, he had thought she intended to strip him naked and it was all some trick, but his doubts had quickly extinguished when he recognised her need for him.
The creamy length of her in front of him was almost more than he could take. He yearned to throw her down and take her then and there but something caused him to hold back. She had trusted him and now he had to show that he trusted her. He could feel their bond strengthening with every moment.
Anna crushed her breasts against him and his fiercely aching manhood pressed into her stomach. He skimmed his hands up and down her arms as she kissed his chest, her lips tickling down the plane of his stomach. The tip of his member brushed at her chin and he fought the urge to thrust. She kissed lower still, apparently determined to kiss everywhere apart from the one place that he so desperately wanted her to.
He gritted his teeth in restraint and he closed his eyes as she dropped to her knees. Anna kissed at his hips and his thighs, her hair brushing over him, and he jerked with a moan. He felt her smile against him and then suddenly the heat of her mouth was wrapped about him, sucking desperately. Niall cried out in surprise and stared down at her. Her eyes met his, a satisfied glint in them, and he knew he’d never seen anything more sensual. God’s blood, this woman would be the undoing of him.