by Wine, Mary
“Ye are perfection, lass.”
Cora shivered. Faolan gathered her back into his embrace, covering her mouth with his. He kissed her long and hard but not quickly. He lingered over her mouth, trailing his tongue across the sensitive surface of her lower lip before he pressed her mouth open and deepened the kiss.
It was scorching.
He thrust his tongue into her mouth so that it might stroke her own. She reached up, desperate to cling to him.
But she had a more demanding urge. Cora reached back down and found his member. She clasped it, working her hand up and down it until Faolan shuddered and broke away from the kiss. His breathing increased, his chest rising and falling quickly as she continued to milk him. His body stiffened as he neared the moment of climax. Cora’s determination grew. She wanted to push him over the edge he’d sent her tumbling over.
But not to prove her power.
To match him more completely.
She wanted to be his perfect mate. So perfect, he’d never even look at another.
Faolan let out a growl as his member began to jerk. His seed erupted as he shook, and a sound of pure male satisfaction left his lips. It was hard and edgy, just like him.
And Cora grinned.
“Pleased with yerself, madam?”
He nuzzled at her neck, placing little kisses on the delicate skin. A shiver moved down her body, leaving gooseflesh behind.
“I brought ye here to ease the ache in yer back.”
“What?” She had to think for a moment about what ache she might have.
Faolan lifted his head and lifted her hair. He looked down her back.
The beating.
Cora flattened her hands and tried to push away from him. Faolan grunted and held her still.
“It is naught,” she assured him.
He caught her chin. “Never think for a moment it was naught. Ye earned the respect of the McKay this morning, but I know ye understand that.”
Cora blinked. “I do.”
“I still want to beat the bastard to death who took yer name to the Church.”
Cora stiffened as she caught the look in his eyes. Only her brother had ever been so protective of her. Faolan didn’t allow her to shy away, though. He held her steady as he stared into her eyes.
“Ye are mine, Cora. Never mistake what I mean by that,” he rasped out. “It means I would rather spill me own blood, take three times the number of strikes rather than suffer watching ye be hurt.”
He scooped her up and stepped over the edge of the tub. He sunk down with her in his arms, the warm water drawing a soft sound of delight from her.
“Ye like that?” he asked as he settled against the back of the tub and adjusted her so she was in his lap.
“Everything except yer shirt. Why do ye refuse to allow me to see ye as you saw me?”
Cora faced him, her thighs opened wide, her knees hitting the bottom of the tub on either side of his lean hips.
“Why?” she repeated when it appeared he wasn’t going to answer.
His eyes were half-closed, his face set in an expression of male hunger. He opened his eyes as she asked, his hands closing on either side of her hips. The hold sent a jolt of need through her. It was sharp and so deep, she shuddered, feeling desperate to have him inside her.
His member was hard against her slit.
He shifted, pulling the thin fabric of his shirt out from between them.
“Ye delight me,” she whispered.
And it was the truth. With the shirt gone, she was able to feel her skin against his. The folds of her body opened, and another memory surfaced from some moment when she’d been someplace where she wasn’t expected to be, and talk had been flowing freely.
“I gave him a good ride…”
Her young mind hadn’t absorbed the details of that statement. Now, she felt Faolan’s cock against her, and she realized she might be in control. She lifted her bottom off his thighs, allowing his member to straighten.
When she lowered herself, his length penetrated her.
“As I said, ye are perfection, lass.” There was a new note in his tone. This was a very male, a very pleased one.
“I’m not all that obedient, Faolan,” she declared as she lifted off him and pressed down again. “Sometimes, I like to ride fast and hard.”
He smiled. Her eyes were slipping shut because she didn’t want to be bothered with anything except what she felt. Her eyes didn’t need to be involved while there was so much sensation coming from where his flesh met hers.
The sensation was building with every downward plunge.
“That’s it, lass.” Faolan caught a handful of her hair, tugging it just tight enough to remind her of how strong he was. “Take me in hand. Ride me. Be the one in the saddle.”
She was hot, and the water was splashing up and over the edge of the tub.
It wasn’t enough.
Not yet.
Cora resisted the final moment. She wanted to enjoy the ride, wanted to maintain her pleasure for much longer. She felt it gathering in that little pearl at the top of her sex. Building up until there was no way to stop it from shattering and dragging her along with it.
“Look at me, Cora!” Faolan ordered at the last moment.
She forced her eyes open. His eyes were bright with unspent passion. His nostrils flared with the need to take from her what he craved.
Well, she was the one in the saddle. “Ye’ll wait, Faolan!”
He bared his teeth and put his forehead against hers. “Forever if ye like, lass.”
It was a solemn promise from lover to lover. Both of them panted. Her thighs burned, but she refused to stop. The moment gripped her, twisting her insides as pleasure tore through her like a bolt of lightning.
Hot.
Searing.
Leaving her blind as she shuddered.
Faolan growled and turned her. He put her hands onto the edge of the tub before grasping her hips and plummeting her from behind.
“And now…ye are my mare,” he growled next to her ear.
She gasped as his member hit a spot deep inside her, which seemed to be just as sensitive as the pearl at the top of her sex. Each time he buried his length in her, she felt another jolt of pleasure. Each one was stronger than the last. She was suddenly climbing back up to the peak she’d just tumbled off of.
“More,” she gasped out.
Cora arched her back, pushing herself into every thrust.
“Do nae stop!” she ordered him.
Faolan splayed his fingers out on her throat, leaning down as he drove into her hard and fast. She was nearing the point of climax once more, panting and half certain that she was going to pass out before the storm broke.
She didn’t care. There was no possible way to stop. She was completely possessed by need, and there was no reason to fight against it, for Faolan was there with her. She heard him grunting behind her. Felt his member hitting her even deeper as he neared his climax. She was on the cusp of that moment herself when he let out a yell, and she felt his hot seed spurting into her. It sent her over the edge into another twisting moment of pleasure.
“Come, lass.”
Faolan was breathless. But he hooked her around her waist and pulled her back from the edge of the tub. He sat down with his back against the wall of the huge thing and settled her between his thighs.
His chest was wide and perfect to lean on. She felt his breath against the wet skin of her neck and was quite certain she had never been so intimate with anyone in her entire life.
It was perfection.
*
“Fill yer bellies but not yer tankards. We all need our wits.”
Bayrd lifted his head from the tavern table. His tongue was coated, and there was a throbbing behind his eyes, so he put his head back down for a moment.
“How did ye plan to get inside the castle? Faolan McKay will recall very well that ye sat silent as Noreen wed Malcolm, and Malcolm sent him to the towers.”
“He’ll be on guard against me.”
Bayrd raised his head. He recalled Lirkin Grant well. Lirkin and his captain didn’t care for him looking at them. The captain rising halfway off the bench as he reached for his dagger.
“I can get ye past the gate,” Bayrd declared.
Lirkin held up his hand to stay his captain’s hand.
“Why would ye help me?” Lirkin asked.
“Faolan McKay is a bastard, and he’s got a witch in his bed.”
“Do ye refer to Cora Mackenzie?”
Bayrd nodded. “I saw her working her devil magic last night. Whipping up the storm, same as the night she arrived. She walked through it in naught but a chemise, not a single shiver. She’s a familiar of Satan, sure enough. I reported her to the Church, but those old priests would nae stand up to Faolan. He put me out for the winter.”
Lirkin raised an eyebrow. “If he put ye out, how can ye get us inside?”
Bayrd looked straight in his eyes. “If we go now, word will not have gotten around. I’m a man of the wall. Me face is well known. Tonight, there will be lads on the gate who know me and who were on duty when I was cast out. They will not have heard yet.”
The Grant Retainers suddenly shoveled the food they’d been served into their mouths. Within moments, they were moving toward the door. Lirkin slowly smiled.
“Let’s be gone then.”
Bayrd held up his hand. “No’ until ye tell me what ye plan. I am no’ a traitor to the McKay. I only want the witch dealt with. Everyone has heard of Cora Mackenzie’s ways. Now that I’ve seen her with me own eyes, I know there is much truth to the gossip about her.”
“I’ve heard of Cora McKenzie,” Lirkin began. “As she is the only sister of Buchanan, I did nae want to think ill of her.”
“I saw her walk through a frigid rain and no’ even shiver!” Bayrd declared again.
Lirkin nodded. “Aye. Well, if that is true, she needs to be dealt with. I am here to see me niece Kalan restored to her rightful place as the successor to Clan McKay. The Grants will not see our blood alliance abandoned.”
Bayrd slapped the tabletop. “Then, I am yer man.”
He wasn’t a traitor.
Bayrd mounted a horse and headed toward the McKay gate without hesitation, for he was intent on saving his clansmen.
Once the witch was dead, they’d come to their senses.
He was certain of it.
*
Faolan washed her.
With slow strokes.
He held her until the water began to chill. Still, Cora didn’t want to leave his embrace.
“We should get out, lass. We’ve only the single candle.”
“I like it,” Cora replied. “For I have ye completely to myself.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“Nothing has ever pleased me so much as hearing that,” Faolan said. “Except for when ye said ye loved me.
She turned her head and looked back at him. “I love ye.”
His lips were curled up into a grin. But she shivered as the wind blew through the chamber because someone had opened an outer door, and it gusted through the passageways and beneath the door.
“There is a warm bed waiting for us,” Faolan promised as he stood and pulled her along with him.
Cora dressed as Faolan pleated up the fabric of his kilt and belted it around his middle. When she finished, he scooped her off her bare feet and cradled her against his chest.
“Let’s go to bed, lass.”
He opened the door and took her out into the passageway. There were only a few lanterns burning to afford the area light. Between the towers, there was darkness before they made it to another little pool of yellow light.
Faolan turned to begin climbing the stairs when Cora caught something moving in the shadows behind them. She sucked in a breath. Faolan turned, but his enemy struck while Faolan still cradled Cora in his arms.
The man drove his sword deep into Faolan’s body. He snarled and dropped Cora to her feet. He kicked at his assailant while flinging her to the side.
But Cora turned and charged at whoever was attacking them. The man fell back with a startled cry. He flung her aside.
“It’s done.”
Cora bounced off a wall in time to see Faolan crumpled to the ground. A pool of dark liquid was seeping from his body.
“No!” she screamed as she tried to run to him.
Two burly men hooked her by the arms and yanked her to a halt.
“Bring her here.”
The men obeyed whoever had issued the command. They pulled her away from Faolan. Whoever he was, the man stood near one of the lanterns. He grabbed a handful of her hair, his grip vicious, and pulled her close, so the light illuminated her face.
“Ye are quite fetching,” he said after studying her for a time.
“Who…” Cora struggled to keep control of her emotions. “Who are ye?”
“Lirkin Grant,” he replied without a hint of remorse for the blood he’d just spilled. “I sent yer brother an offer for ye. It appears luck has favored my suit.”
“I will never be yers!” Cora declared.
“I have killed yer husband,” Lirkin said with a grin.
*
Brynna melted into the darkness. She was suddenly grateful for a life in a brothel, for she’d learned young to sit out of sight but to always, always wait until her mistress was in bed before she sought her own sleep.
The Grants crept past her as she held her breath. She had her hand pressed tightly to her lips when Cora screamed.
She remained silent. The Grants closed around their leader. Brynna silently kicked off her shoes before she gripped her skirts and started down the passageway, hugging the wall as she went. The hall had never been so far away.
*
Lirkin was studying her face. Cora bared her teeth at him.
“I killed yer husband, so ye, are me spoils.”
“Ye promised.” Bayrd emerged from the darkness. “Ye swore ye’d deal with the witch if I allowed ye inside the stronghold.”
Lirkin looked toward Bayrd. “Only a man weak enough to turn traitor to his own blood would fear a little heat in his bed.”
There was a gurgle, and then the end of a sword emerged from the man’s body. He looked down at the blood coating the blade. Bayrd looked at Lirkin. “Ye…black-hearted bastard.”
Blood soaked the front of his shirt before Bayrd slumped to the floor, his eyes rolling upward.
“That is the only payment a traitor deserves,” Lirkin informed his men.
There was a round of hushed amusement.
“I’m going to enjoy ye, Cora Mackenzie, before yer husband is even cold.” Lirkin smirked at her.
“Better think again, ye bastard.”
A familiar arm hooked Cora by the waist. She feared she was imagining the feel of Faolan pulling her back against his hard body.
But his scent was there to confirm who it was.
So was the fresh blood.
Cora looked up to see Faolan thrusting the same sword Lirkin had used on Bayrd. Faolan’s face was hard, but his eyes glowed with satisfaction.
Lirkin let out a hoarse cry. His men had been too far away. They turned, growling out their rage. Faolan held her as he looked at their number.
It was hopeless.
But a new sound came from behind them. A pounding of feet on the passageway stones.
“Defend the McKay!” Yestin cried out.
The twin pools of light gave Cora a glimpse of the McKay Retainers arriving. Their swords were raised above their heads as they charged at full speed into the invaders. The Grants were caught in the section of the passageway that ran between the towers.
Faolan swung her around, pushing her into the stairwell that led up to his chamber. “Climb, lass.”
Men screamed. In the meager light, the battle was a grotesque shadow play where half-lit figures used their swords to cut
their enemies to pieces. The scent of fresh blood, with its metallic edge, was so strong it nauseated her.
But she didn’t have time to allow her body to slow her down. Faolan was pushing her up the stairs. Cora struggled against her skirts, yanking them up as some of the Grants turned and ran down the passageway.
“After them!” Faolan ordered.
Light was coming now from every tiny chamber. Doors opened as lanterns were lit. Up on the top of the wall, the bells were being rung to wake all the inhabitants of the stronghold. It was any clan’s greatest fear. An invasion which had managed to make it inside the walls. Now, it was fight or be killed in yer own bed.
From the youngest to the oldest, every McKay answered. Those without swords brought what they had. From pitchforks to fire pokers. The women were no exception. They surged up behind the men, intent on protecting their homes and families.
“Cora…” Faolan growled at her. “Go, lass.”
Cora made it to the top of the tower. She pulled the doors open and stumbled into Faolan’s chamber. He was right behind her but stopped to shut the doors. He shuddered once it was done, his strength beginning to fail him once more.
Candles had been left burning in the chamber. She turned and got a good look at her husband. Blood soaked half his shirt. Lirkin had driven the sword into Faolan’s side.
“Ye must lay down,” Cora ordered him.
“I’ll not be in me bed as there are invaders in me stronghold! Ye are safe now, and I must go back…”
There was a pounding on the door. “It’s Yestin, Laird! We’ve won the day!”
Relief swept through Cora, but it was extremely short-lived. Faolan backed away from the door so his captain might enter. Yestin came in, his shirt splattered with blood. There was a grim look of satisfaction on his face that changed to horror when he looked at Faolan.
Cora felt something inside her shift.
“I said ye need to lay down.” Cora took charge. “I’ll drag ye if I must.”
Faolan grunted at her.
“I’ll help ye, Mistress.”
Lonn and Reece were at the door. They stood for a moment in shock as they looked at Faolan.
“Go on,” Cora told them. “Get him off his feet.”
There was a flurry of activity. Gainor ran back down the stairs, as Lonn and Cora pressed Faolan back.