Andra huffed and kicked at the rocks lying in her path. Every man in her life ran through her thoughts like stallions racing across the great desert she had once read about. Aran, her brother, had never cared what she was up to and had often told her to just stay out of his way. Her father was unbearable, always demanding this and demanding that. Crimm was almost as bad, but he was different in his own way.
Andra knew he cared about her and could not seem to find anything to curse him about. Then it hit her, Kagan. It was Crimm's fault that Kagan had come to Shinonoble, but it was her fault for sneaking out. She pursed her lips and stomped down the path to the valley below.
Why did Kagan have to be so cruel and arrogant? He wanted to hurt her just like Pierre had done. Andra knew Kagan was not like Pierre and she fumed at herself for ever thinking such thoughts about him. He was a heathen, but he was not sadistic. Her knees buckled and she sank to them as Kagan rode into her thoughts, naked and hard. His strong arms offered protection and honorable marriage, his powerful broad shoulders offered a home and wealth, and his manhood offered the pain of sex. His touch was so pleasing and Andra whimpered as her heart raced with her brain.
What did he want from her? Did he really want her to scream in pain, in misery to her master? Master. Master be damned!
Andra stared at the heavens and her voice rang across the valley floor like lightning dancing across the ground.
“What cruel joke is it that ye gods play with women? Are ye all men? I will defy ye all, e'en stand 'fore Dagma himself 'fore I bend to ye will!” Andra tears stung the back of her throat as she stood and growled at the moon, “Kagan McKregan will wish he had ne'er laid eyes on me. I will break him 'fore he breaks me. Strike me down now if ye so dare. I will'na bend to any man's will. I am Ell'andra and I will'na break in the winds of man!”
She was oblivious to the black steed standing in the distance among the trees, oblivious to the dark rider on his back. The laird's face was painted, half silver and half crimson. His bare chest was laced with the stains of battle and bloodshed. That battle lay forgotten in the back of his mind as he began preparing for the battle ahead.
He had heard her heated words, spoken with a defiance that would sear the feet of any god, including Dagma. He was slowly beginning to understand his opponent. Her pain lived hard under the surface of her skin and she refused to let it go. She had wrapped her heart so tightly around it that it ran along her veins with her blood. She was strong, proud, and far too intelligent for her own good. She needed a man to unwrap all her icy heart and heat up her core. If it was a fight she wanted, then by Dagma, he would give her one.
His lips tightened across his teeth as Flaron opened the cottage door from inside. He met Andra at the stone path that lead up from the field. They spoke, but Kagan could not hear the words clearly. She placed her hand on his offered arm and he placed his paw on her shoulder in a light hug. Flaron bent and kissed her forehead as she sagged forward onto his arm.
Kagan cursed and rage swept through his body as Andra hugged the brawny bastard. Demon jerked nervously as Kagan growled and sent him into a gallop. Demon flew on his powerful legs toward the cottage and caught sight of Andra. He snorted happily and continued on his hell bent path. The pair’s embrace broke as he cleared the stone path. Andra's dismay stretched across her face as she turned to him.
“What are ye doin' here?”
“When the Laird Kagan McKregan wants his woman in his bed, she best be there or she will endure punishment the likes of which she will ne'er forget!” The words were said before he considered their affect. He allowed his eyes to soften to let her know he did not mean the hateful threat.
“Do ye worst and I can only hope death follows quickly,” she spit at him as her eyes narrowed.
“Where did ye plan on spendin' the night?” His deep growl thundered in her ears as he threw Flaron an evil look.
“She sleeps in the spare room next to mine,” Flaron interjected as Andra's mouth opened to rage at Kagan.
“Show me.” Kagan gave the order and Flaron turned to the cottage.
Kagan entered the room, filling it's small interior with his massive frame. He casually unbuckled his sword and propped it against the wall beside of the bed. He dropped onto the mattress and instantly knew Andra had been there. Her scent flowed from the mattress and teased his senses.
“Come,” he ordered as he held his hand out to Andra.
She rolled her eyes at him but entered and closed the door behind her, “Donna ye ha'e somewhere else to be, some battle that needs ye attention?”
“I need ye to rub my back,” he replied.
“Tonight is mine to do as I please, na yers.” She gripped the edge of the beds frame and stared coldly into Kagan's face.
“E'ery night is mine.” He stood and grabbed her hands, pulling her around to the side of the bed, “Rub and make the ache go away.”
“Is that all ye want of me?” Her question hung in the air and Kagan's roguish smile bit into Andra's chest.
“Are ye offerin' more?” He dropped back onto the bed and rolled onto his stomach.
“Go home McKregan, go home to ye lover and lea'e me be!” Andra hissed.
“Nay, I will stay here less ye be ready to go,” he muttered as he yawned.
“Ye will lea'e now,” she coldly ordered.
“Unfortunately, I can ‘na allow ye to stay in another man's home unchaperoned and lustily embracin' him e'ery chance ye get,” Kagan drawled his words to agitate her.
Andra smiled seductively, “Maybe I like touchin' other men.
Kagan groaned and slowly stood to confront her. The tub beckoned him from behind her and he stepped closer examining its clear contents, “Were ye takin' a bath?”
“Did ye hear me? I like touchin' other men,” she repeated forcibly.
Kagan dropped his kilt to the floor and stepped into the cool water as Andra's eyes widened. He smiled as he sank into the water and leaned back against the steels rim.
“Come, will ye rub the lather onto my shoulders?” He asked softly as she edged to the tub.
Andra took the lye from his hand and lathered her hands. She rubbed across his shoulders and along both sides of his neck. His skin was hot and smooth. She swallowed the distinct taste of passion back down her throat as she ran her fingers down his arms that rested on the tub's rim.
“Hmmmm, ye hands feel good,” he whispered as she lathered his forearms and hands.
She leaned over the tub and rubbed his jaw line, smearing the paint down his neck, “Stop grinnin' like a child.”
He laughed and cupped her chin, “Could ye get all the paint off of my face?”
She gently lathered his forehead, nose, and cheeks. Their eyes locked and she cupped his jaw in her hand, her thumb caressing his cheek. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she shivered as he spoke, “I need ye.”
For reasons that were completely unbeknown to her, she leaned forward and lightly grazed his lips with hers. The heat sparked and ran wildly through her body. Her hands slipped to his shoulders as his tongue flicked out to taste of her lips. She met his tongue and hers greeted his with liquid fire. Andra pulled back, afraid she would jump into the tub with him. She stood as he grabbed her hands.
“Let me undress ye. Let me bathe ye body,” he pleaded softly as he stood.
Andra was melting and she desperately tried to deny him, “Nay.” Her voice cracked as she whispered the word of defiance to the one man that she did not want to deny.
He stepped from the tub and Andra caught her breath. She reached for his chest and examined the gashes and summed up the damage. She breathed hard as she counted the stitches across his breast, twenty one. She frowned as she counted twelve more on his lower abdomen. She knew the other slices were superficial and wound heal easily. Her eyes came back to the one across his breast, just above his heart. It was deep and jagged. Her hand lingered over his heart.
“How did this happen? Who?” She asked in a low whisper as sh
e gently inspected the carefully placed stitches.
“Donna matter, my enemy is defeated and the battle is won,” he proudly announced as he caught her hand. Water and bubbles dripped from his naked body making his skin shine in the candlelight.
“Ye could ha'e been killed!” She scolded him with her words and eyes as she sternly pushed his hand from hers and bent to inspect his abdomen.
“I am alive to fight another day,” he boasted as he grinned down at her, “Alive to come home and find my woman huggin' another man.”
“Men!” Andra spat as she turned on her heel and inspected his bloody kilt.
“Come now, I deserve a kiss for my bravery and victory.”
Andra turned to face him, her expression was grim and collected, “What ye need is ye arse kicked for lettin' ye enemy's sword get so near ye heart. How could ye let ye guard down and just where was ye shield?” She pointed her finger at him and continued, “Ye could ha'e been defeated and fed to the buzzards for such carelessness. Next time ye go to battle, better prepare yeself and come back without wounds to stitch or I will gi'e ye some myself!”
His hearty laughter filled the cottage and her confusion delighted him. His woman was scolding him for carelessness in battle. She did not cry nor did she pout and faint at his wounds. She scolded and lectured, something even his men and mentors did not dare to do.
“Why do ye laugh?”
“Why do ye scold me like a bairn caught in mischief?” He teased her and his smile spread across his face in tremendous delight.
Andra smiled wickedly and held out his kilt as she eased to the door. Kagan chuckled as she broke into a ran and fled the room with his kilt in her hand. He grabbed for her as she giggled and pulled her skirt from his fingers. She passed Flaron in the small cozy kitchen, flashing her prize. He grinned as she left the cottage and ran to the field to hide behind a tree.
She braced her back against the tree and smiled. What was he doing to her? She felt so alive and happy. She peeped around the tree and her jaw dropped as Kagan walked out of the cottage stark naked. The moonlight bathed his body and he walked toward the tree.
Andra took a deep breath and stared at his gorgeous body. He was glorious and her insides tingled and her heart skipped several beats as he neared her tree. He leaned on the other side and chuckled. She held his kilt out and shook it. He took it and slid around behind her. She turned and giggled with delight at his sight. His brow was raised and his arms were crossed.
“I like lookin' at ye Kagan McKregan.” She blushed as the words fell from her thoughts, “Ye look like a statue in the moonlight.”
“I am very alive and within ye reach. Just reach out and I am yers.” His words were soft and his meaning was less than subtle.
“Touchin' ye would ruin the fantasy,” she whispered, “Tis the fantasy that I need, na the pain of ye pleasure.”
Kagan frowned as she took his kilt from his hands and wrapped it around his waist. He took her hands and rubbed them across his shaft, “This is real. My desire for ye is real. I can make ye fantasy come true, if ye will trust me.”
Andra's hands lingered on his powerful long erect shaft and her body screamed in agony as she let her hands fall. Her smile was gone and she shivered under his stare. She wanted him but he was a man of this world and she wanted his love first.
He will never love the likes of me when he has Llana waiting for him.
“Perhaps ye lover will quench ye thirst,” she hoarsely replied as she moved away and turned to the cottage, “She awaits ye return and eagerly has her slender legs spread for ye.”
Kagan growled and grabbed her elbow, swinging her around to face him, “Tis ye legs I want to spread.”
Andra's face twisted in agony as she wondered how many times he had slept with her, “Why would ye want me when ye lover can offer ye unequaled pleasure of the flesh? Why do ye tease me with ye godlike body when I am a frog compared to her beauty? Her red lush lips surely will please ye far better than my thick ones e'er could.”
“She is ‘na my lover,” Kagan lied and quickly decided to rid himself of the nagging woman who always seemed to show up at the worst of times.
“Why do ye lie? She is beautiful and intelligent.” Andra laughed as her tears threatened to break their threshold, “She has explained in detail why ye send for her.”
Kagan gripped her arms tightly and pushed her against the tree, “She means nothin' to me. She pales in comparison to ye.”
Andra closed her eyes and a tear slipped down her cheek, “She is perfect and wishes only to please ye. She donna care for the others she has bedded. She may very well be in love with ye and ye use her as a tool to dispose of ye lust.”
“My lust grows e'ery time I am near ye and it is'na her I am tryin' to court, it is ye,” Kagan gritted as he bent to capture her lips. His brain could not fathom her denial of him. She was his and she would give in on his terms.
Andra twisted from his lips and whispered, “ I am ...a plain piece of bread compared to Llana's overflowin' banquet.” Andra recited Llana's words exactly and Kagan crushed her to the tree with his body.
“Kiss me!” He ordered as she refused to meet his lips, “Or I will take it from ye sweet lips.”
“Then take it beast,” she cried as he caught her mouth and forced her lips apart.
His tongue ravaged her mouth and her arms flew to his neck in surrender. He forced her dress to her waist and pulled her knee to his waist. His hand slid up the inside of her thigh and he reeled in pleasure as his fingers contacted her golden mound of curls. She bit his lip and sucked hard as he grabbed her other knee and lifted her up against the tree. Her back ached as the bark dug into her flesh, but she moaned in pleasure as Kagan's hands cupped her butt and his shaft slid across her womanhood. She arched and grabbed his shoulders as he sucked on her neck and sent her senses into a whirlwind of chaos. Her sanity and logic begged to surface as she drowned in his scent.
“I want to be inside of ye. Let me,” Kagan whispered as he moved his shaft into perfect position, “I am going mad with want of ye. Ye ha'e bewitched me and I must claim ye 'fore anyone else does.”
Andra stiffened and pushed at his chest. Claim her? Fear and pride raced down her spine.
His strong hands held her in place as his shaft pushed through the first folds of her curly mound. Kagan paused as his head met the hot desire of her loins. He groaned as he looked into her face. Fear. She was afraid and he was not able to stop.
“Ell'andra. It will only hurt briefly,” he whispered as he pushed farther into her overwhelming tightness, “I need ...”
Andra screamed at him, “Let me go! Stop hurtin' me!” She whimpered and dropped her hands to his arms, “Please donna take me like this. Kagan, please donna hurt me like he did.”
Kagan grimaced and let his forehead fall to her shoulder, “Ye donna know what ye ask of me. I am a man and can'na restrain myself much longer.”
“Kagan?” Andra whispered, “Please? I donna want this, na like this. I want to be loved by the man that I share my body with.”
He knew what she wanted from him in that instance. He could not find the words he had never spoken to anyone other than his mother. No woman had ever wiggled their way into his heart and he would be damned if he said those three words to her. He silently vowed that he would make her love him if it was the last thing he ever did. She would fall hopelessly in love with him and surrender every delicate sweet morsel of her body to him and sing his name with undiluted passion when he took her. He would possess her heart and soul.
Kagan pulled back and let her feet fall to the ground, but he still held her pinned to the tree. He heard her sigh of relief and felt her warm hands nervously trail down his arms. His skin burned and begged for more as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. She stilled as Kagan slammed his fist into the tree and gritted his teeth.
“Llana will take care of ye desires,” she gritted as his hand grazed her chin and his fingers slid across her mouth, “S
he will be more than able to take ye massive shaft inside her body, unlike me.”
Kagan growled and gripped her shoulders roughly, “Ell'andra! Stop this ridiculous talk, I will'na ha'e any more of it.”
“Let me go and lea'e. I will'na share my body with ye as she does. Ye ha'e many lovers to satisfy yeself with. Ye donna need me.” Andra winced as his fist slammed into the tree again, “Stop it! Stop inflictin' pain on yeself!”
Kagan laughed and held out his knuckles for her to inspect, “If ye kiss me, the pain will go away.”
“I will'na do any such thing,” she gritted as she flinched at the blood oozing down his fingers. She laid her cheek on his chest and listened to his raging heartbeat. “It is unreasonable for ye to want me. I am fat and ugly and my green eyes are unlike any of the other women in this country.”
“Ell'andra Duncan, ye be the bonniest woman that e'er graced the highlands with her feet. Ye make men grow weak kneed and make their tongues grow heavy with desire.” Kagan's voice was barely a whisper as she turned her face up to look at him.
His eyes were hooded and his hair fell around his shoulders in splendor. Andra smiled and brushed his hair from his face, looking into his warm gray eyes. Had he been any other man, she would love him. Her eyes widened at her simple thought and she quickly looked away from his gaze. She had to gather her wits and escape his clutches before she gave in again to his wanton body and deliciously warm mouth.
“Ye be very close to breakin' ye oath and I suggest that from now on, ye hold back,” she said with determination. “Now let go of me and go home.”
Kagan pulled away and turned on his heel, the grass under his foot uprooted and crushed under his weight, “As ye wish. We lea'e in the morn and be prepared for ye punishment on our arrival.”
Andra frowned as he walked down the path to the cottage, tying his kilt into place. She followed slowly and huffed at his back. If he thought she was sharing that bed with him, he had lost his mind. She grinned triumphantly as she crossed the field to the abbey. She would sleep on the cold floor of the abbey before she would give in to his tempting offer.
A Warrior's Perception Page 11