by Mary Wine
“Ye’re trying to lull me into a sense of ease,” she said.
One of his eyebrows arched. “I’m asking ye to tend to the bruises I endured to keep ye from becoming Bastian MacKay’s prize.”
She owed it to him. But reaching for that cloth took more effort than it should have. She stepped closer to him, her heart accelerated, and she was conscious of how extremely sensitive her skin felt. She bent her knees and plunged the cloth into the water. It was cold and refreshing, carrying the dust away from her fingers. She squeezed the excess water out of the cloth and stood up.
Her mouth went dry as she managed to step forward. Power radiated from him, wrapping around her when she was standing close enough to touch him.
But he waited. Waited for her to reach for him.
Her hand trembled when she did, and her breath felt like it was frozen in her lungs.
“Is it so hard to touch me, lass?”
His voice was a soft whisper mingling with the breeze that rustled the leaves on the trees around them. It was like he was part of the night, reaching out to fold her into an embrace that would take her beyond reality.
“Ye unsettle me.”
She knelt down to rinse the cloth, shuddering at the temperature difference between the water and his skin. When she stood back up and smoothed the cloth along his jaw, he caught her wrist and carried her hand to his chest, where he pressed it over his heart.
“Ye do the same to me.”
The cloth pressed water into his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. She felt the steady beat of his heart and realized it matched the tempo of her own.
“This cannae be right,” she whispered, but her fingers smoothed over the wet patch of shirt that separated her skin from his.
“What is wrong with taking the enjoyment we can when it is before us?” He stood up, abandoning his relaxed demeanor. She felt the change instantly. The power she’d noticed so often in him washed over her in a wave that went all the way down to her toes.
“I crave ye, Nareen.” He slid his arm around her, cupping her hip and easing forward to press against her. “And ye are nae unmoved by me. I feel ye trembling.”
“But—”
He sealed her protest beneath his lips, pressing his mouth over hers as she shuddered. This time, it was even more intense, the cravings inside of her jumping at the opportunity to be appeased. She reached for him, slipping her hand into his hair and gripping the inky strands. Hunger flared up inside her, and she kissed him back, seeking a deeper taste of him. She wasn’t close enough, wasn’t kissing him hard enough.
Saer groaned, and she felt him changing. It was as if his control had shredded. His kiss turned fierce, demanding she open her mouth and allow his tongue to sweep inside. It was an invasion, an act of domination that thrilled her so much she moaned. He cupped the back of her head and smoothed his hand away from her hip to grip one side of her bottom. Her bud was throbbing between the folds of her sex, begging for her to lift her leg and lock it around his waist.
But he suddenly set her back.
It felt like she was ripped away from him, and frustration prickled along her nerve endings.
“Nae here,” he growled, but she wasn’t sure if he was telling her or himself. His breath was ragged, and his nostrils flared. He pointed one thick finger at her. “Nae here.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, the certainty of just how much he affected her ripping through her. She had no control, no ability to think once he touched her. It was undermining her confidence.
“I’ll have ye in me bed, on me land. No’ on the ground like a savage.” He was on the edge; she could hear it in his voice. It fanned the flames of recklessness licking at her insides.
“Go back to camp, Nareen, before I forget what I know ye deserve from me in favor of what I see ye craving in yer eyes. But do nae forget that it would serve me to see the matter settled here. I’ll earn yer trust, lass.”
She turned and made her way back to his camp. At least the darkness hid the tears glistening in her eyes. Tears she’d sworn never to shed again. But they eased from the corners of her eyes anyway.
Cruel little droplets of proof that she was helpless against Saer MacLeod.
There was nothing she detested more.
Which was why she had to escape him before he grew to detest her.
***
Saer woke them before dawn.
Nareen rolled over and rubbed her eyes. They were burning from the salt her tears had left behind. The MacLeod retainers were efficient as they readied their horses. They were all well on their way before the horizon turned pink.
They ate oatcakes that had been stored in leather pouches. Some had dried fruits mixed in to make them sweet. Water was always plentiful in the Highlands, and the farther north they traveled, the more streams they had to cross. By dusk, Ross land was far behind, and they were well into MacNicols territory. Nareen breathed a sigh of relief when they stopped for the night and made camp.
Nareen’s cheeks heated with shame as she admitted to herself that she didn’t have the willpower to resist Saer. She was drawn to him.
At least out in the open, she didn’t have to worry about being alone with him someplace where her passion might overrule her senses. In fact, by the end of the day, she was very, very sure she needed to make certain she was never alone with him again.
She knew what she wanted from life, and it was not to be a wife. In no way might she reconcile herself to obedience. Saer MacLeod was master of his clan and would certainly expect to be the same over his wife.
So she would have to leave him before she committed a greater sin by disappointing him. She was sure she couldn’t bear to see resentment or scorn in his eyes when he looked at her.
A gillie came and took her mare. The young lad guided the horse along the side of a stream until a floodplain stretched out with plenty of grazing. The other horses were already nibbling at the shoots, their saddles laid over large rocks for the night.
The MacLeod retainers were starting fires and cleaning rabbits they had shot from the road with arrows in the last hours. The air was soon full of the scent of roasting meat. Saer was leaning over a flat rack with two of his captains, studying a map with the last of the day’s light. Nareen took the opportunity to slip off into the woods for some privacy.
She had to force herself to return.
The urge to run was strong, but she knew Saer would only come after her. Success lie in making sure he was sleeping when she made her run for Deigh Tower. Broen MacNicols would grant her shelter and an escort to her brother. It was a foolish risk, to venture out alone again, but she felt it a greater risk to stay. It was only a day’s ride to Deigh Tower. She focused on that and held firm in her decision.
She drank deeply from the water bag, knowing she’d wake in the early morning hours to relieve herself. Then she settled down to sleep, forcing herself to ignore the rabbit in favor of sleeping while Saer was awake.
It was the best solution, really. She wanted no master, and would make sure she didn’t have the chance to lose her resolve again.
It was certainly better than watching him grow dissatisfied with her.
***
“Ye wore the lass out,” Baruch remarked. “She did nae even wait for supper.”
Saer looked up, taking a moment to drink in the sight of Nareen. She’d curled up beside a large cluster of rocks with her arisaid wrapped around her.
Pride moved through him. She was strong, sleeping out on the trail without any complaint over the lack of comforts.
“That brat she was serving ran her to exhaustion,” he informed his captains. They turned the conversation back to planning the route home.
It was much later when Saer was able to move toward Nareen. Her breathing was slow and steady. He watched her
for a long moment, studying her face. He still didn’t understand his need for her. It defied logic, even sense.
But it was her face he saw when he closed his eyes, so he stretched out beside her and enjoyed the soft sound of her breathing until he fell asleep.
For the first time in the many months since he’d first seen her at court, he felt a lack of urgency. Peace settled over him, and it was far sweeter than he’d ever imagined.
***
Nareen smelled Saer before she opened her eyes. The scent of his skin, which she’d somehow memorized from the times she’d been in his embrace, intoxicated her and undermined her resolve to deny her hunger for him.
She opened her eyes and saw him sleeping next to her. He’d raised the portion of his kilt that draped over his back to cover his head, but the rest of the wool was still secured around his waist. In the distance, she could see his men completely wrapped in the kilts they had taken off before lying down.
Not Saer. He slept, ready to be on his feet in a moment. Laid out between them was his sword. It was even pulled from the scabbard, in case he needed to defend himself. He didn’t trust the world any more than she did.
For a moment, she was torn. Again.
It seemed to be the way he affected her.
The only way to be free of the turmoil was to leave. She turned her head slowly and looked across camp. Two retainers were still awake. They were poking at the fire as they spoke in low tones. Off in the distance, the horses were dark shapes.
But fate was kind. There was a thick forest between her and the animals. She took a last look at Saer and rolled up and onto her feet. He didn’t move, and she kept her paces slow as she made her way into the forest. The urge to move faster needled her, but she forced herself to take her time.
Her mare was smaller than the other horses and had drifted off by herself. Nareen cooed softly to her, watching as her ears perked up.
Retrieving the saddle would be too great a risk, so she eased the bridle into place and led her mare away from the others. Each moment seemed to be longer than normal, and her steps sounded too loud, but the other horses remained quiet as she made her way.
She used a rock to mount and held tight with her thighs as the horse began to carry her away from the camp. Nareen let her set the pace, moving in unison with the animal. The sky was clear, allowing her to see the constellations and guide them toward the MacNicols stronghold. When she looked up, she saw just the faintest outline of one of the towers in the distance. With luck, she’d make it by dawn.
But there was a blur of motion beside her before a hard arm reached across and snagged her off the back of her mare. Nareen let out a screech as Saer clamped her against his chest and used his knees to steer his stallion.
“Let me go!”
He pulled her to the ground and planted himself between her and her mare. He was furious, his brows lowered and his lips pressed into a hard line. He pointed one thick finger at her.
“Why, Nareen?” he demanded in a rough tone. “Tell me the name of the man ye are intent on returning to.”
“Kael Grant,” she snapped. “I’m going to make sure me brother knows I want no master. And certainly nae ye!”
He drew in a harsh breath. “Ye want me, Nareen.”
She shook her head. “I refuse to be any man’s.”
He chuckled darkly, moving toward her. She backed up and realized she was moving into the forest. The limbs of the trees blocked out the moon’s bright light.
“That is nae what yer actions were saying when ye entangled yer hand in me hair and stroked me tongue with yer own.”
“I’m saying it to ye now,” she insisted as she tried to hedge around him and back into the light. He blended with the night too well, and she had no defense against the urges that came out when she was with him.
He hooked her around the waist and pressed her back against the solid trunk of a tree. His body was huge and impossible to move, but the worst part was the way she shuddered with delight.
“Ye’ll have to prove it, Nareen. Refuse me kiss and stand unmoved in me embrace, and I will let ye go.”
“See if I don’t bite ye,” she warned.
He stepped back, surprising her. And disappointing her too.
She stood in shocked amazement as she tried to decide what to do.
But she’d misunderstood his action, and that was a mistake. He reached out and pulled free the cord that held her bodice closed. With a hard tug, the knot opened, and he used one finger to drag the cord free of the first few eyelets. The weight of her breasts opened the bodice, giving him room to plunge his hands inside the loose neck of her chemise and cup both tender mounds.
She gasped, arching back against the trunk of the tree. He massaged the tender globes, brushing her puckered nipples with his thumbs.
“Tell me ye do nae like me hands on ye, Nareen.”
She clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes. He tugged on her nipples, drawing a heated moan from her lips. Never once had she thought her breasts might feel so good. Saer held them, massaging them, and it felt like they grew heavier.
“Put yer hands on me.”
It was a rough command, and she curled her hands into the bark of the tree to deny herself the feeling of him.
He swept his hand through the front of her bodice, opening it completely before leaning over and licking one hard nipple.
“Oh, Christ!” She shoved her hands into his hair, gripping the smooth strands as he arched her toward him.
Liquid fire was flowing down to her sex. He didn’t stop at licking, but opened his mouth and sucked on her nipple like he was starving.
She was starving too. Starving for him.
All the need that had been threatening to burst, exploded. She lost the will to think, to consider, or even identify what she was doing. There were only her cravings and the fact that he was there to sate her. She leaned over, seeking some of his warm skin to kiss. She wanted to taste him, wanted to drive him as insane as he was making her.
Her mouth connected with his jaw, and she kissed her way along it until he lifted his head away from her breast to allow her to kiss him.
It was a hungry merging of lips and tongue. There was nothing tender about it. He demanded and she matched him motion for motion. She clawed at his shirt, hating the fabric, but his sword was still resting on his back, making it impossible to strip the garment from him. She settled for grasping his biceps, where his sleeves were tied up to the shoulders. A moan of rapture passed her lips as she connected with his skin. She shoved her hands farther beneath his shirt, to feel his shoulders.
“That’s the way…” He encouraged her in a rough voice. “Touch me, Nareen, enjoy me as much as I enjoy ye…”
He pressed a hard kiss against the side of her neck, and then another before yanking her skirt up. The night air was a relief, carrying away some of the heat. But she still felt like she might boil alive when he slid his hand up her thigh.
He chuckled when he discovered the dagger strapped there. “Bastian might have gotten a nasty surprise when he tried to bed ye.”
“I wouldn’t have let him…” Her thoughts began to clear when she opened her eyes and locked gazes with him. “I’m not letting ye—”
He cupped her mons, grazing the center of her folds with a fingertip. She choked on what she’d been saying, her body drawing taut.
“Agreed.” He plunged his finger between the folds of her sex and stroked his way from the entrance of her passage to her throbbing clitoris. “Ye are nae letting me bed ye, lass, ye are trysting with me.”
He rubbed the center of her pleasure, his voice like a spell drawing her into a realm of dark enchantment. The scent of his skin filled her senses, somehow conveying strength. She arched toward him, seeking release from the hunger driving her mad, but h
e didn’t give it to her. He slid his finger down to tease the opening of her body, then thrust up inside her passage.
She was slick, and she opened her eyes wide with shock as pleasure tore through her. It was deeper than what he’d given her before, the walls of her passage incredibly sensitive. And needy.
She felt empty, his finger not nearly enough to satisfy her.
“When I do bed ye, Nareen, I am going to suck ye until ye scream.”
“What?” Her voice was a ghost of a whisper. She blinked, trying to understand what he meant. Her cheeks flamed when she made sense of it. Court was a swirling haze of sexual liaisons.
“But nae tonight.” There was a hard purpose in his voice. He pulled his hand free and hooked her knee. “Tonight, I am going to claim ye.”
“I’ll not—”
He sealed her denial beneath a hard kiss. She wanted to refuse, but he thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth, and her passage clamored for attention too. How could a kiss be so overwhelming? A moment after he sealed her lips beneath his, she was opening her mouth and licking his lower lip. She craved him, every bit of him.
He lifted her up, spreading her thighs wide with his body. “Claw me…”
It shouldn’t have sounded like a good idea, but her fingers curled into talons, her nails sinking into his skin. She was desperate for a deeper contact with him.
Saer didn’t grant it to her immediately.
He pinned her to the tree, his wide chest pressing her against it. He stroked her folds a few more times before introducing the harder touch of his cock. She gasped as pleasure rolled through her. It was just a ripple—the next wave was deeper as he fit the head of his member against the opening of her passage.
It felt too large, but she was empty and aching for his hardness. He grasped her thighs and held her still, controlling his entry completely. The first thrust was only an inch. Her body stretched to accommodate him before he withdrew.
“Just do it,” she urged.
“No.” His tone was rigid. She opened her eyes and witnessed the strain on his face. A muscle was ticking along his jaw as he slowly pressed deeper into her.