Romantic Legends

by Kathryn Le Veque

  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.

  He regarded her with a crooked smile, “You are aware that I allowed you to do this? I am far too large for you to have overcome me so easily.”

  Victoria shrugged and climbed over him. “I will pleasure you now, sir.”

  Instead of a reply, his eyes locked on her breasts. “I have yet to sample parts of you.” As he reached for her, she stopped him.

  “It will have to wait.” Surprising her, he did not argue further. Instead, he lay back and did not resist her placing his arms down to his sides.

  While he watched, Victoria ran her hand down his rippled stomach, astonished at the softness of the skin, which covered such hard muscles. She studied his body, amazed at how attractive it was. She’d never thought a man’s body could be referred to as beautiful, but there was no other way to describe Conor’s.

  Victoria wondered how she could possibly make him approach a release as he’d done for her. She peered up to his face, but by the challenge in his expression, she knew he wouldn’t be any help.

  Not voluntarily anyway. He expected her to figure it out on her own. This was a game to him. She would ensure he would not have any reason to criticize later.

  With her finger pads, she trailed a circular pattern on his thick thighs, suppressing a smile when his muscles bunched and his cock flicked in response.

  She leaned forward and mimicked the pattern with her tongue on the one thigh, while continuing it with her fingers on the other.

  At his moan a sense of triumph filled her.

  She continued trailing her tongue to the top of his legs and wrapped her hand around his engorged member. His grunts of pleasure encouraged her to continue and pressing her lips against the soft skin of his inner thigh, she moved his cock aside to expose what lay beneath.

  Conor’s breath hitched and she knew instinctively this to be a sensitive place for a man. Victoria layered kisses on the soft sack, suckling it gently, until rewarded by a husky moan.

  He liked it.

  She became bolder sucking and licking his balls while she continued to stroke his shaft. Her fingers wrapped around tight as she slid them up and down the length.

  Finally, she licked a path on the underside of the rigid member, trailing her flattened tongue up to the tip. When he bucked into her mouth, she moved back, not allowing him entrance. She circled the tip of him with her tongue, allowing her teeth a light scrape of the velvety skin.

  “You will unman me,” Conor’s hoarse words were accompanied by a hard intake of breath when she took as much of him as she could into her mouth. “Victoria!”

  She mimicked the motion of him entering her earlier. Mouth around him, Victoria moaned at the sensation of his silken length sliding past her lips.

  “You must stop, I am too close,” Conor panted.

  She ignored him until his hands cupped her face and stayed her.

  He lifted her up over him. “I don’t want to spill into your mouth,” he gasped for breath, yet strong enough to roll her onto her back and hold himself up over her.

  “Kiss me, Conor.” Victoria held her arms up, inviting him to her.

  His lips met hers as he positioned himself between her legs, and she felt the tip of his cock nudge at her entrance.

  “Please, now!” She begged him.

  “I told you we’d make love this time,” Conor whispered in her ear. The tip of his cock touched her center and she lifted up, wanting him inside of her.

  Conor smiled at her. “No. Not yet. Making love is a slow, more intense process.”

  His hands covered her breasts, caressing them with strong, yet careful strokes. She closed her eyes in surrender. When his mouth took one nipple, Victoria began to ache again. Her hips pushed up and Conor chuckled against her skin. “Soon.”

  Conor lifted, his wet lips enticing her to reach for him. She got her wish when he kissed her again.

  “Roll onto your stomach,” Conor told her, his hands already guiding her.

  Victoria complied, unsure of what he planned.

  “Stunning.” His hands caressed her buttocks, kneading them, before sliding his hands onto her hips and lifting until she was propped on her knees. When she attempted to lift to her elbows, gentle hands held her back down, so her head and shoulders rested on the plush linens of his bed. “Remain like this, a picture which will stay with me, forcing me to return with haste.”

  “Mmmm.” Victoria closed her eyes when the first nip of his teeth on her bottom brought a tingle straight to her quivering center. His lips pressed against the sensitive skin of one cheek then the next, ensuring homage to both.

  “I dreamt of taking you from behind, pounding into your moist tunnel until you screamed my name.” Conor’s hoarse words were like a balm over her already heated body.

  He pulled her buttocks apart and his fingers penetrated first, the precise movement bringing her precariously close to breaking to pieces again. With his arm wrapped around her, his other hand mounted a merciless assault of her throbbing crux, and Victoria cried out and pushed into him.

  “You’ve bewitched me, Victoria,” Conor told her, positioning himself to enter her, the head of his hardened shaft at her entrance. “I cannot be gentle.”

  “Don’t be,” Victoria replied, once again pressing backward. “I want you as you are. Raw, masculine, and hard.”

  He thrust into her with such force that Victoria cried out again. “Yes.”

  Seated to the hilt, Conor groaned and she felt his body shake. She sensed this man was not a gentle lover, he’d held back for her sake.

  “Now, Conor,” Victoria urged.

  He complied and pounded into her, pulling almost completely out before thrusting back into her fully. The long strokes were a feast of heat and hardness, combined with the silky fluidity of their bodies, melting from the friction brought by skin sliding against skin.

  “You are so hot, so tight surrounding me,” Conor ground out while not slowing his movements.

  His drives soon lost rhythm. With control gone, both raced to reach their climax. His fingers stroking her to completion, Victoria came first. She reached between them and cupped his tightening sack and squeezed it gently, satisfied at the grunts coming from deep in his throat, just as he gushed into her.

  Quaking hands tightened around her hips, ensuring she did not move while he stroked in and out of her a few more times, rendering all he had to her.

  Finally satisfied, he collapsed onto the bed, deftly rolling them both to lie on their sides still joined.

  They remained silent for a long moment. Victoria snuggled back into his warm embrace and sighed.

  “Take me with you, Conor,” she whispered, hoping he’d not fallen asleep.

  He slipped out of her and waited for her to face him. Victoria turned and immediately burrowed against his chest. He tugged a thick fur over them. “I do not wish to be away from you but I cannot take you. It’s not safe. I will not put you in harm’s way.”

  “I cannot promise to wait for you.”

  “Then I will ensure it.” His words left no room for argument.

  Chapter Five

  Morning came, and Victoria woke with a smile. Like a contented cat, she stretched under the warm fur.

  Conor was gone from the bed. Surely he’d not gone away yet.

  A maid entered the room with a tray, upon it a teapot and cup. “Mister Conor asked that I bring you up refreshment and see to a bath for you, my lady.”

  Victoria’s cheeks heated at the maid’s knowing she’d spent the night in Conor’s bed. No doubt the entire keep would be aware of it by day’s end. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “Is Con…, Mister Conor here?”

  “Yes, Miss, he’s downstairs in the great room,” the m
aid placed the tray down. “Would you like your bath brought here?”

  “No.” Victoria scrambled from the bed. Disregarding her nudity, she grabbed her chemise and other clothing she yanked them on in a hurry. “Please, in my chamber.”

  “Very well,” the maid nodded with a polite smile. Did Conor bring women here so often the maid thought nothing of her being there?

  “The tea also, please,” Victoria dashed to the doorway, and after looking out and ensuring the hallway remained devoid of anyone, she hurried to her chamber.

  A short while later, she sank into the hot bath with a deep sigh. The water arose against her skin, a soothing heaven to her sore areas. At once the soft aches brought enticing images and she closed her eyes.

  Perhaps Conor was not the only one bewitched.

  “The morning meal is over. Would you like something brought up?” The maid asked as she placed a drying cloth next to the tub.

  “Something light would be nice,” Victoria replied, glad for the reprieve of not having to face the clan until later. The maid nodded and left.

  The room seemed quiet and empty and Victoria wondered how she’d fare in the upcoming long days without Conor’s presence.

  The door opened and she waited for the maid to place down her breakfast.

  “I had hoped to find you still in my chamber,” Conor’s deep voice brought her out of her musings.

  He stood just inside the doorway, his presence instantly filling the space. Dressed in a light off-white tunic and kilt, with a tartan in the McDougall colors of red and blue that fell just below his knees and a clan insignia pin at his shoulder, today he looked every bit the Scotsman.

  “Are you about to leave?” Victoria asked, attempting to ignore his eyes roving over her nudity. “Is it why you are dressed in such a manner?”

  “Aye. I must see about the McNeil’s. They fight with my cousins who possess lands neighboring theirs.” He moved closer and picked up the bar of soap. “You will stay and wait for me.”

  He fished her foot from the water, washed it, rinsed it and then repeated with the other. His eyes not leaving her face, he drew her toes into his mouth and suckled them.

  Victoria moaned loudly, “Oh!”

  Sensations rippled up her leg to her center until she wasn’t sure she could withstand much more of his ministrations.

  His hand slid up her leg and on to her inner thigh. “Say it, Victoria. Tell me you’ll wait.”

  “I—I cannot promise… Ah,” Victoria gasped when his fingers found her tender region. “I cannot think with you touching me.”

  “Then perhaps I prefer you not to think,” Conor smiled and straightened.

  Victoria blinked at his putting distance between them, the drying cloth in his hand, but then understood when the maid entered with a food-laden tray.

  She finished bathing while Conor moved to gaze out the window. She admired his proud stance, as he remained unaware of her perusal. Tall, arrestingly handsome, he was poised to gain his own keep. Surely he’d marry a clanswoman with a handsome dowry. The thought of that incensed her. Why did she allow it to matter? The man could never belong to her. Nor she to him.

  When she stepped from the water, he turned to watch the maid dry her, but did not move from his post by the window. After the girl helped her don a clean chemise, she curtsied and left.

  “Are you betrothed?” Victoria asked, not sure why. It wasn’t like she had any ownership over him.

  Deep blue eyes met hers, the depth of them lulling her toward him. “Not yet, my brother insists I become engaged to the daughter of the McNeil Laird soon.”

  His matter of fact tone hurt, but Victoria pushed it away. “I see. Well, I am sure it will be what is best for your clan.”

  “Aye, it is my duty and it would bring an end to all this fighting,” he told her, closing the distance and fingering the lace of her chemise. “I don’t want to marry her.” He shrugged. “But I may have to.”

  He bent down and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin where her neck and shoulder met, sending shivers down her spine. “Let’s not speak on such matters. I would much rather spend these last moments with you Victoria, having you once again.”

  A whirlwind of emotions rolled into her, Victoria became mortified at tears filling her eyes. She turned away, feigning interest in the food tray. “True, it’s not the best topic for our last conversation.”

  “Not our last, Victoria.” Conor came to her and placed his hands on both sides of her face lifting it, his eyes bored into hers. “You must wait for me.”

  “Have you considered my brother may bring a battle to your clan’s doorstep which will make this border skirmish seem like a child’s game?”

  His hands fell away. “Aye. I have.”

  “Then allow me to go, Conor.”

  Victoria pulled him down for a kiss. Their lips lingered, pressed together, touching barely, but by no means chaste. With slow motions, they circled around in a lover’s dance, their lips exploring each other’s.

  Conor ran his hands under her chemise and cupped her bottom. His hands engulfed her bottom and lifted her body into him.

  “Spread your legs for me once again, Victoria. Allow me to take your scent upon me when I go.” He backed her toward the bed, falling into it with her.

  The temptation was great to ask him to take her with him again. But she knew he’d deny her if she did.

  With eyes closed, he pressed his forehead against hers, and they remained as such until he once again took her mouth with his.

  He pushed her chemise up, exposing her bottom half, and then he lifted his kilt and guided his stiffness forward.

  When he thrust into her, Victoria released his mouth and called out his name. He filled her completely before pulling out just enough for the friction of the movement to propel him to move into her again.

  “I want to make love to you until you agree to wait for me. Then continue until we are lost.” The bed rocked as he moved in and out of her with grace and perfection bringing her to tears.

  He continued, all the while keeping his lips pressed on her skin, his tongue moving across her neckline as if attempting to absorb her taste.

  His hair fell forward across his brow, his muscles strained under her palms with the long strokes of his lovemaking.

  Conor took her hands in his and held them over her head. “Look at me, Victoria. I want to see you crest.”

  They locked eyes, and she strained to prolong the moment, but the eroticism of looking into his eyes, along with his movements, made it impossible. She lifted up to him, their bodies slamming together, sensing the nearness of their climax.

  “Oh, Conor!” Victoria screamed as she floated.

  Conor lost control, his movements remained strong, but all rhythm eluded as he thrust into her several times before also coming. His roar of completion falling over her.

  He released her hands and she brought her arms around his shoulders, not wanting to let him go.

  “I must go. My men await,” Conor lifted from the bed.

  His eyes searched her face. “You will be well. Do not fret. Calum will ensure you are well-treated.”

  Victoria bit her lip, not sure how to reply. If she waited for him, what was the use, he’d already admitted he would marry a Scottish woman. “Fare well and safe travels, Conor.”

  A muscle on his jaw tightened at her words, but he only nodded.

  For an unexplainable reason, she didn’t want him to leave burdened, and maybe she could think of a way to impede her brother from arriving until after Conor returned. “Very well, you win. I will wait, Conor.”

  He gathered her close and kissed her hair. “It’s all I ask.” With one last lingering look, he left.

  Moments later, Victoria leapt from the bed and ran to the window.

  It was a cloudy day, the mists of the highlands feathering across the mountain region like long fingers. A large group of men mingled in the courtyard. She watched Conor walk out to join them. His imposi
ng presence took everyone’s attention.

  Conor’s brother walked to him, and they spoke briefly. Calum looked up to the window and met her eyes, his expression more curious than anything. He nodded to whatever Conor said and the brothers embraced. Calum slapped Conor’s shoulder and looked up at her again.

  A boy brought Conor’s immense battle horse. With a loud call he and his men mounted up.

  Conor made a formidable warrior with his broad sword slung across his wide back, he let out a battle cry that was echoed by his men. Then without looking back, he rode out of the keep with a long line of men behind him.

  “Victoria?” Cailyn called from inside the doorway. “Are you well?”

  “Yes.” She swung around to face the woman who waked in and looked at her with interest.

  “My brother leaves for a spell, I know you must be worried.” Cailyn didn’t seem worried in the least. “They do this often, things of men.” She waved her hand in the air.

  Glad for the distraction, Victoria looked to Conor’s sister. “I am more confused than anything. I do not know what your brother plans for me.” She sighed. “Cailyn, as soon as I dress, will you show me the grounds?”

  “Of course,” Cailyn told her with a bright smile.

  Victoria studied her new friend. “I do worry, I fear what will happen if my brother Jamie arrives here intent on finding me.”

  Cailyn nodded. “I’ve heard about him. Is he as ruthless as they say?”

  “It depends on the situation I suppose. Someone will have to intercept him until Conor returns and I convince him to allow me to go with Jamie. We don’t need another war.” Victoria studied Cailyn. “I may need your help when Jamie arrives. There is no doubt my brother will bring war with him. He has a soft spot when it comes to women.”

  Cailyn became thoughtful, her dark blue eyes sliding away from Victoria. “Is that so?

  Chapter Six

  Two weeks later.

  Cailyn McDougall clutched the reins, ignoring the pain of her inner thighs from hours of riding. Her gaze remained transfixed straight ahead as her horse raced to the seaside village, a day’s ride from her Highland home. Urgency pounded through her veins. The sooner she found the infamous sea captain, the better her hopes of deterring him from bringing war to the McDougall clan.