Highlander's Conquest, The McDougalls, Book 2: The McDougalls

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Highlander's Conquest, The McDougalls, Book 2: The McDougalls Page 4

by Hildie McQueen


  Not allowing her to fully descend, he climbed over her and plunged in. His largeness filled her and she sighed wrapping her legs around his slender hips.

  The huge warrior rose over her, his darkened eyes pinning her and Meagan's heart burst with love for him.

  His movements already hard and fast, he drove into her with vigor and she held onto his shoulders, her nails raking into his skin. "Calum, you make me feel so many wonderful things." She stopped talking to let out a moan.

  He growled and began to shake in his release. His heated seed spilled into her while his arms trembled holding him up.

  "Come to me." Meagan pulled him down, enjoying his weight on top of her. So many mornings she'd wish to awaken with him like this. And even in her most scandalous imaginings, this morning was so much better than she could have hoped for.

  "Good morning, husband." She pressed a kiss to his temple and massaged his broad shoulders.

  "I love you, wife, thank you for being so kind and patient with me," Calum told her, trailing kisses from her shoulder to her jawline. His beautiful blue eyes met hers. "I don't deserve your love after the way I've treated you."

  "From today forward let us love each other, Calum. No more regrets." Meagan replied, "I love you, as well."

  "These have been the best games our clan has ever hosted." Her husband's sensuous lips curved. "I won a prize beyond my dreams."

  The End

  Enticing Her Highlander

  Chapter One

  Dugan McDougall looked toward the chapel's ceiling and wished to be anywhere but up front next to the sobbing bride. It was proving to be an interesting wedding day. Between the heat of the small, cramped chapel and a hysterical wife-to-be, he fought the urge to run for the back door to fresh air and freedom.

  Elsbeth McNeil was indeed bonny, but she was also young, scared, and obviously not ready to marry him. If she made it through the ceremony without fainting Dugan would be surprised.

  He reached out and steadied her as she swayed once again. With a shudder, the wench jerked away from him, which prompted him to glare at her. The priest cleared his throat and droned on after hesitating only a moment when the bride wavered and let out a loud hiccup.

  Dugan shifted his gaze to his cousin and laird, Calum, who returned an apologetic look. Even if his cousin was rethinking the idea of the clans uniting, it was too late to do anything about it now. The McNeils although not allies, were not that big of a threat either. The marriage was an effort to stop the borderline skirmishes, which lingered much too long between the clans.

  Once the papers were signed and agreements made, the McDougalls were not going back on their word. Both lairds, their oaths given, had already signed the damn papers.

  Elsbeth took a dramatic deep breath and Dugan barely caught her before she collapsed to the floor. The McNeil stepped forward to see about his daughter whilst his wife fanned the girl and began to cry.

  Not willing to take in any more of the dramatics, Dugan lowered the girl to the floor before stepping over her to head outside. He walked to a tree nearby and leaned on it. It would be a while before someone came for him with word the bride had regained consciousness. One thing he was sure of. If this was any indication of married life, he was glad for strong ale and whiskey.

  It was his duty to marry, as his clan had already agreed to the union, and truth be told, Dugan did not think badly on the prospect of marriage, but he'd hoped for a more agreeable wife.

  Calum neared. "Hopefully, once you bed the lass she'll get over these hysterics."

  "If she acts so before everyone, what do you think will happen when we're alone?" Dugan shook his head. "I am not looking forward to the marriage bed and a wailing bride."

  Calum frowned. "Mayhap she will calm after some time getting to know you." Dugan lifted his brows and began to speak but Calum interrupted him. "Come, they call us back in."

  The ceremony went surprisingly smooth after Elsbeth came to. Although a sniffle escaped several times, she remained upright and repeated the vows with a strong voice.

  Dugan resigned himself to the idea that this marriage would take work. If anything could be said about him it was that he was tenacious. Once he set his mind, whatever obstacle would be moved. Or he'd find a way around it.

  At the evening meal, the Laird McNeil leaned over Calum to meet Dugan's eyes.

  With a look of consternation, the laird assured him repeatedly that the lass was ready to marry. "She's a bit overly coddled by her ma and I. I promise ye, she looks forward to marriage and raising bairns." He glanced at his daughter who sat beside Dugan, still as a statue. "My Elsbeth will be a good wife to ye."

  The McNeil lifted his cup and the room quieted to wait his words. He turned to face them. "May the gods grant ye many sons and daughters." The crowd burst into cheers and Elsbeth, if possible, paled even more.

  With a sigh Dugan leaned toward her and smiled hoping to dispel her fears. "I don't expect to hurry you into bairns. We need time to get to know each other first."

  Her fingers fidgeted with her cup and she kept her eyes downcast. "I thank you for those words, but I will be a good wife to you and do as you wish." The softness of her voice spoke of resignation. Her lips pressed together, his bride blinked repeatedly as if on the brink of tears.

  Damn it, if it were not for the traditional bedding, he'd avoid going to bed with her for as long as possible. The last thing he wanted was a bride who detested the thought of lying with him. He was not used to such as most lasses practically chased him to his chambers. Often after discreet knocks, he'd frequent middle-of-the-night visitations.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Dugan studied his new wife. The lass was breathtaking with long blond hair that she'd worn down for the wedding flowing past her rounded shoulders down her back. The golden tresses battled for attention with the hue of her ivory skin. Her pink lips were made for kissing and her bright blue eyes for looking into while making love. She straightened as if sensing his regard and turned to him. "How much longer before I am forced to lay under you?"

  Dugan choked and sputtered, the ale in his throat going down the wrong way. "A while yet. I would like to spend a bit longer here drinking. Something I am sure to enjoy more."

  Her gasp made him smile, but when he caught his new father-in-law's questioning gaze he forced a stern look. He leaned toward her and once again allowed his lips to curve. "Don't worry, fair Elsbeth. I know your words were meant to discourage me, but you see, I didn't need to be. I too do not look forward to the marriage bed. Not with a reluctant wench, at least."

  "How dare you." Although her voice remained low, her eyes narrowed at him and lips pressed together into a disapproving, albeit tempting, line. "You are not a gentleman."

  "In that you are correct, wife. I am not in anyway gentle."

  She went to retort, but was cut short.

  "To the happy couple! To bed!" Someone in the crowd cheered and Dugan raised his glass toward them. The people in the room began to chant and he grimaced.

  "Well, it looks like they have decided it's time." He groaned as the men neared and surrounded him intent on carrying him up the stairs to the marriage chamber.

  Elsbeth was already being hurried up the stairs by the women, no doubt to put her in some ridiculous white bedding garb.

  "One last toast. To the union of the McNeil and McDougall clans. May together we conquer many battles." Dugan raised his glass and once the cheering ended, continued to talk of the many clan conquests on the battlefield, a sure way of distracting the men. It worked, but for only a short while.

  Finally Calum placed his cup down with a loud thud. "Enough, it is time for the groom to see about his bride."

  The McNeils seconded the order and then the insufferable man brought up his hand. "Proof of the consummation is in order, of course. My daughter comes to the marriage bed an innocent and I will see that proved."

  "Aye, aye," the others called out and before Dugan could say another word, his shirt wa
s ripped from his body, his britches loosened and he was hoisted on shoulders and marched out of the room.

  He'd promised Elsbeth he'd not hurry her, but now he found himself cornered with no other option than to bed the lass. Her father would not be rebuffed.

  To do so would tear a rip in the already fragile relation between the two clans.

  Chapter Two

  Elsbeth suffered the good cheer of the McDougall women surrounding her. Were it a different situation she'd be quite content to be there with the gracious ladies of clan McDougall.

  The laird's wife, Meagan, touched her cheek and leaned to kiss her good night. After which the other two women, Cailyn, the laird's sister and Victoria, the laird's brother's wife, did the same. Her mother had retired early, as she tended to do after expelling so much emotion for the wedding, she was exhausted. Elsbeth suspected, she wanted to avoid the bedding ritual.

  Meagan lingered after the others filed out. A stunning woman, with hazel eyes and auburn hair, she'd been the ideal of many a Highlander before her marriage to the McDougall. Kindly eyes met hers. "On my wedding night, I was as terrified as you. It's odd isn't it? To be brought to a new home, to different people. It is terrifying to start a life that is decided upon by our families."

  Elsbeth nodded and fought not to tear up. "Aye, I thought myself prepared for this, but it seems I am not. Not in the least."

  "Dugan is a good and patient man," Meagan offered. "He will see to it that you are comfortable and protected. You've done well for a husband, do not fret." With a last pat to her hand, the woman left.

  Not too much later, boisterous laughter broke from the other side of the doorway. Males’ voices rose in chants and laughter. Without thinking Elsbeth raced for the large bed and scrambled onto it. She pulled the blankets up to her chin just as the door burst open.

  If not for the fear enveloping her, she'd laugh at the sight of the large Scot being carried into the room. Most of his clothes removed or askew, he was held at odd angles. Dugan twisted in an effort to dislodge himself from the fists grabbing at him. Through it, he laughed the entire time, as if enjoying the embarrassing display.

  "Ah, daughter, we bring your husband," her father's words slurred and she glowered at him. Her narrowed gaze served only to bring a chuckle from the robust ruddy man who turned and slapped Dugan on the rear. "A fine bra laddie, fer ye."

  After dumping her husband non-too-gently onto the bed, the men then streamed out, claiming they'd worked up a thirst from the weight they'd carried.

  Elsbeth could only stare at the shirtless man who lay sprawled across the bed without moving. She wondered if he planned to remain atop the blankets all night. Although he did not look comfortable, she hoped he did.

  Dugan lifted his head and blinked as if not sure where he was. Then he looked at her and grinned. "I'm a wee bit dizzy, they decided to twirl me about for a bit before bringing me up. After the large meal and ale, ‘twas not the best idea I fear."

  Of all the moods, she did not expect him to be in such jolly spirits once with her in bed. She could only stare at him dumbfounded. "They will not be content until they are presented with..." Her face reddened, she could not finish the sentence.

  "Ah, yes," he slid from the bed and stood not seeming dizzy at all. Instead with graceful moves that seemed at odd with his size, he went to the window and peered out and chucked. "Ha! They gather now beneath."

  Elsbeth moved from the bed, each motion made her heart thump harder against her chest. If ever there was a time not to disgrace her father this was it. She'd been mortified to find she'd fainted at the chapel. Then to wake to her mother crying and her father’s embarrassment, she'd promised herself to make the best of it and maintain her composure for the rest of the ceremony. She was not about to fail now.

  "We have to do this, I will not be shamed before my clan," she told her new husband who turned to face her with lifted brows.

  "I would not allow it either," he responded and moved toward her. The sheer size of the man made her waiver. How was it possible for someone to be so large? He was easily the largest male in the region, even in a room full of warriors; he'd stood head and shoulders above them. Her brothers and the McDougall laird were large men, yet Dugan still was taller and broader.

  He reached for her and she pretended not to see it, instead she climbed back onto the bed and laid flat on her back closing her eyes and placing her hands alongside her body.

  His footsteps neared. "Ye look like yer laid out for your final resting," Dugan told her and she opened her eyes to see he leaned over her, his brows scrunched together. He studied her for a moment longer. "I will not take ye, lass. Don't fret, just move away for a bit."

  "Yes, you will," Elsbeth lifted to her knees and grabbed his shoulders. "I will not be dishonored."

  When he did nothing more than gawk at her, she hurried from the bed and yanked her nightdress up over her head and threw it on the floor. Trembling from head to toe, Elsbeth stood before her husband totally bare. Then she turned and walked to the bed, lay upon it and looked to him. "Do it now."

  The man had the audacity to laugh. "What in the devil are you doing?"

  At noting his study of her body, she yanked the bedding to cover herself and pushed to a seated position. "It is our wedding night, we must consummate the marriage." She pronounced each word with emphasis in case he was daft and didn't quite know what to do. "Have you not done this before? Joined with a woman?"

  His eyebrows hitched and his mouth fell open. "Aye, of course. Many times. Well, not many but... What the devil, woman? You haven't done this before and I'm trying to spare you... until you are ready." He picked her up and deposited her on the edge of the bed. "Now, remain still."

  He took a dirk from his belt and she stiffened. Her mother had not explained anything about a blade being involved. Perhaps she'd not wanted to frighten her. "W-what is that for?"

  Dugan removed his boots and breeches to stand before her bare as a babe. Her eyes bulged. She'd caught a sight of nude males before, of course, as a girl growing up in a keep full of clansmen. Several times as an adolescent, she'd peeked into the great room at night where the warriors slept. But in comparison to any man she'd seen bereft of clothing, this man was magnificent. Her eyes locked onto the large cock between his legs and it twitched.

  When Dugan cleared his throat she gasped and looked up to see that he smiled and lifted a brow. "I'm flattered to garner your attention, wife."

  With a sniff, she turned away, her face burning. "I am curious as I am not used to seeing a man so...bare."

  "Ah. Yes, bare I am, as are you."

  "What?" Elsbeth's eyes widened when he placed his foot on the bed and then pierced his calf with the blade. Blood spilled onto the sheets. He then picked the sheet up and held it against the wound.

  With a mischievous smile, he smeared the blood on the sheet with his hand. "May be a bit much," he told her and studied the stain. "Never paid much attention to wedding sheets, I'm afraid. Have you?"

  Elsbeth shook her head as it dawned on her what he planned to do.

  "All right then, come on." He yanked her, bedding and all, from the bed and carried her to the balcony. The bloody sheet hung from his arm yet he managed to hold her against his chest ensuring she was well covered. They exited and waived to the cheering people below.

  The next moments were the most humiliating of her day. Apart from fainting during her wedding ceremony, which of course did not make a good impression on her new clan. She was nude, plastered against Dugan's body while the idiot waved the sheet and made grunting noises.

  "I wish to go back inside now," Elsbeth hissed at him. "I believe they believe your proof."

  "Ah, yes true, we should rest. After all you are wearied after such a quick loss of your maiden head." Dugan lifted her up and once again the crowd cheered. She hid her face against his neck, finding to her surprise that he smelled clean, fresh, and masculine. He must have bathed for the wedding.

  Dugan
deposited her back onto the bed and went to hang the sheet from the railing. After which he returned, donned his breeches and looked at her with his brows drawn together.

  "I think we should sleep, tomorrow will be a busy day indeed." He picked up her nightdress and handed it to her.

  Elsbeth got up from the bed and quickly dressed aware he watched her closely, and then scrambled back to the bed to lie on the side furthest from the doorway.

  Most of the blanket was off the bed, leaving the stuffed mattress bare. Seeming to have forgotten her presence, Dugan grabbed the blanket and placed it on the exposed mattress. He worked the corners around her. "If you move, I can adjust the bedding."

  Feeling like a child, Elsbeth scooted over so he could.

  He shrugged. "That will do, I suppose."

  Her new husband grumbled something she could not make out between yawns and edged onto the bed. Somehow he managed to fit his large size to take only half of the space.

  The bed sunk when he rose back up and leaned over her. "Goodnight then, wife." His lips pressed over hers. The action caught her by surprise. His kiss was gentle and soft, not at all what she expected. Elsbeth found she enjoyed the sensation of his mouth covering hers.

  "Goodnight," she replied a moment later when he'd already laid down and within a few instants a soft snore escaped.

  Elsbeth stared at the ceiling and went over the events of the day. Married, a wife, she was no longer a free maid. Her eyes widened.

  Something strange happened. An occurrence she didn't foresee. She'd feared he'd take her, that the large male would hurt her by his sheer size alone. Instead of feeling relieved at his not joining with her, she felt something altogether different. Something confusing.

 

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