How to Handle a Highlander (Hot Highlanders) (25 page)

They deposited the tub with a soft thud. There was a rush of water as the boys gladly poured their burdens into it. The second maid was using a long poker to stir up the coals in the hearth before she set new wood. There was a pop and crackle as it caught.

“We’ve got fresh water for yer bath, and the kitchens will be sending the hot water in but a moment.”

Two more maids appeared with their arms full of clothing. They lowered themselves at the doorway before moving to the table and spreading out the gowns they’d brought.

“There is silk and velvet and the softest linen chemises ye ever felt.”

Moira listened to the women chatter. There was an air of celebration about them, and it drove the dread from the chamber.

At least it made it less noticeable.

The bath was warm and cleaned away the dust from the road. The chemise she put on was soft, and she enjoyed it as she sat near the fire to dry her hair. But Moira refused to put on any of the dresses.

“Whyever not, dear?” the maid asked.

“Those are meant to be worn outside this chamber,” Moira explained.

“Aye, ye’re right about that. No need to lace ye in if ye will only need help getting free of it to enjoy the bed. But ye need a bit more than that chemise for the moment.”

The woman winked before laying a dressing robe across her shoulders, and then she hurried back to the doors and opened them.

Moira’s jaw dropped open as Gahan strode boldly into the room. He swept her with his dark gaze before stepping out of the doorway to allow Cam and several other retainers carrying platters of food to enter.

Enjoy
the
bed…

Her cheeks burned scarlet, and she gripped the dressing robe tightly, but none of the men looked at her. Cam tugged on his bonnet then withdrew outside the doors. The king’s retainers closed them firmly, leaving her facing Gahan.

Gahan took full advantage of her surprise and plucked up the dressing robe before she recovered her wits.

“What are ye doing here?” She jumped to her feet, earning a grin from him.

“Bribing the royal guards to let me in. Their orders are to make sure ye stay, so they took me gold happily.” His dark gaze settled on her breasts. “I knew I was going to enjoy that chemise on ye. With the fire behind ye, it’s transparent.”

Her cheeks felt on fire, but she rose to the challenge—oh, it was a challenge, sure enough. The man in front of her was pure Highlander, and he was daring her to enjoy being his woman.

She moved slowly, her hips swaying without conscious thought. Instinct took command of her actions as her blood began to race. She moved toward him, enjoying the way his eyes focused on her.

“Ye have me at a disadvantage…” She trailed her fingers along his chin, loving the feel of his beard. “I was nae expecting company.”

He cupped the side of her face, his fingers gently slipping across her skin. It was so delicate, yet the touch made her shudder.

“Ye should have more faith in me.” His tone was low and edged with determination. He slid his hand into her hair and gripped it gently. “I will seek ye out, no matter where ye be, Moira, for ye are mine, and ye are going to be me wife.”

He kissed her, sealing her response beneath his lips. There were reasons why she needed to argue. But his kiss burned all of them away. She didn’t want to think. And yet she couldn’t be overwhelmed either. It was almost insane to allow herself to be swept into a mindless state in so dangerous a place.

She slid her hands along his face and trailed kisses across his jawline. He made a low sound of enjoyment as she kissed the warm skin of his neck and then moved lower.

“I have nae had any practice in being a wife.” She untied the laces to his collar. “For example, I have never scrubbed a back.”

“I am fresh from the tub, lass, so that will nae need doing.” He pulled his sword off his back and leaned it up against the wall by the bed. But he sat down on one of the chairs and extended his foot toward her.

“But ye could show me how well ye disrobe me.” There was a wicked promise in his tone. “I believe it’s a skill ye’ll have need of. Very often.”

She grasped the ends of the tie that held his boots closed and loosened the knot. As she leaned forward to work the tie along the antler horn buttons, he took the opportunity to look down her chemise.

“Ye have the sweetest pink nipples.”

She straightened but realized she was ruining the game. There was a sense of control when she held his attention. It was something she’d heard whispers of—that time when a woman enchanted a man in lovemaking.

She took her time with the second boot, drawing a long chuckle from Gahan.

“Ye are toying with me, Moira.”

She set the boot next to its twin and placed her hands on his bare knees. The fabric of the chemise pulled tight across her breasts, showing him her curves but not allowing him to see down the neckline anymore. She leaned closer and kissed him. Pressing her lips against his, she tasted the soft skin in a delicate motion. When she pulled back, she rubbed his knees and slid her hands up, beneath the edge of his kilt.

“Are ye going to order me to behave?” She pulled her hands back down to his knees and then stroked up farther. “Of course ye are nae me husband, and I find being a widow quite merry.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “Merry?”

He stood and scooped her off her feet. In another moment, he was spinning around with her held tight against his chest. The blood rushed past her ears, making a roaring sound as her body tightened with excitement. He finally stopped and tossed her onto the bed.

“Would ye be merry if I left ye to yer widow’s bed?”

She rolled over and flung her hair back. She laughed, and the sound surprised her, because it was husky and sultry. On all fours she faced him, feeling more alive than she could ever recall.

“A merry widow can play the games of a lover.”

“So can husband and wife, Moira.”

He opened his belt and caught his kilt before it slipped down to the floor. He tossed it onto the table with a practiced motion.

“Neither of us knows what marriage truly is,” she said as she sat back on her heels. “Yet I know I want no more of the falseness that was my last marriage.”

He pulled his shirt up and over his head, baring his body to her. His chest was covered in dark hair, the muscles hard and defined. His chest tapered down into a lean waist and hips. His cock stood out proudly, the head ruby red. Her cheeks flushed, but she realized it wasn’t with shame, it was with anticipation.

She was exactly where she wanted to be.

He started to move toward her, but she held up her hand. He froze, waiting on her whim. There was something in his eyes that pleased her, a flicker of expectation that filled her with confidence. He was waiting for her to please him. Not because he demanded it of her, but because she wanted to be his lover.

She eased up her chemise, baring her thighs. His dark gaze settled on the naked skin, his lips thinning as she tugged the fabric higher. Her heart was beating hard but not racing. It felt deeper, more sensual than any experience she’d ever had. She paused with the fabric just covering her mons.

“Now I know ye’re teasing me,” he groaned.

“Aye,” she admitted before raising the chemise all the way up and letting it fall to the surface of the bed. “But only because I want to be yer lover, nae just yer conquest.”

“Those can be one and the same, lass.”

His voice was so deep it almost sounded like he was purring. A promise was brewing in his eyes, and need began to twist her insides. He moved toward her, placing his hands on her thighs and stroking her the same way she had him. She gasped, the contact between their flesh sending ripples of awareness through her.

“A lover returns the favors given…” He leaned down and kissed one puckered nipple. Sensation jolted her as he crawled farther up the bed.

She had to lean back, far back until she was lying on the bed. A pleased grin split his lips and he captured the same nipple and sucked it hungrily. She’d never realized a man’s mouth might be so warm. It was searing and set her insides to boiling. Her clit was throbbing for attention, desire ripping through the teasing mood she’d been in. She reached for him, but he lifted away from her, his eyes burning.

“Nae just yet, lass…” He gripped her knees and spread her thighs. “I seem to recall ye tormenting me with yer sweet lips.”

He was going to make her wait for it though. First, he stroked her, cupping her breasts and petting her belly with motions so slow she found it hard to remain still. Every inch of her skin began clamoring for contact. She didn’t want to keep her eyes open either. It was like her sight interfered with her body feeling everything it might. She closed her eyes and arched into his touch, a tiny moan escaping her lips when he stopped just above her mons. He rubbed her belly, making a small circle that drove her mad with frustration. Anticipation was heightening all of her senses, intensifying every single touch.

“Ye are beautiful, Moira.” He leaned down and kissed her belly. “I do nae think I have told ye how fair ye are.”

She opened her eyes and gasped when she watched him shift his attention to her mons. He toyed with her curls for a moment before leaning down to kiss her clitoris.

“Holy mother of Christ!” she swore as she jerked. She didn’t really gain any distance, because the hand he had resting on her belly pressed her down to the surface of the bed.

“Now who is bringing Christ into inappropriate moments?” he teased her.

“Well, I did nae expect ye to kiss me…there.”

He settled his thumb on the spot he’d kissed, working it back and forth until the folds of her slit parted to allow him to touch her clitoris.

“Ye licked me cock.” There wasn’t a hint of shame in his tone. No, in fact there was the definite ring of promise.

“Ye cannae mean to…” Her mouth went dry, and her tongue refused to finish her thought.

“I swear there is nothing that could tear me away.”

Her eyes remained wide as he lowered his head and made good on his promise. She bucked again, the level of heat almost too much to bear. It was searing and intense. She’d never felt so much sensation, except for when he was inside her. She craved the man in an unnatural manner. She clawed at the bedding, searching for something to hold onto as it felt like the world was spinning out of control. She arched up to press herself against his mouth, seeking enough pressure to unleash the explosion she felt brewing in her depths.

But he denied her. Instead he lapped her gently, flicking her clitoris with the tip of his tongue before trailing it through the center of her slit to the opening of her body.

“Ye are sweeter than cream…”

Every inch of her skin felt like it was on fire; perspiration even moistened her hair. He licked his way back to the top of her slit, this time closing his lips around the little button nestled there. It was almost enough…And yet release remained maddeningly out of reach. She growled as her frustration reached the point where she was sure to go mad.

“Stop toying with me, Gahan!” she panted.

“And do what instead?” His voice was hard with demand. She locked gazes with him, seeing the man she’d battled against the first few times they’d met. “Do ye want me to tumble ye quickly and leave before we’re discovered?” He rose above her, crawling up the bed and trapping her with his huge body. “Or do ye want something more?” He settled himself between her thighs, the head of his cock slipping easily between her slick folds.

She held him, clamping her thighs around his hips as she gripped his shoulders. But he didn’t thrust into her, didn’t fill the emptiness threatening to make her scream.

“Swear ye’ll wed me, Moira.”

She slapped his shoulder and snarled. “Blackguard! To demand such a thing once ye’ve made it near impossible for me to think.”

“Oh, I demand it, lass.” His voice was hard, like his body. He thrust into her, filling her passage with a quick motion that sent the air rushing out of her lungs. “I want to demand ye welcome me into yer bed, every night as ye are now.”

He pulled free and thrust in again, quickly. The bed rocked with the force of his motion, and she raised her hips to take it.

“I demand that ye let the world know I am what ye crave…” The bed ropes creaked as he continued to ride her with a hard pace. “I demand ye never let yerself be at the mercy of that half brother of yers…”

Pleasure was tearing through her, but so was the need to make her own demands heard. She lodged her feet on the surface of the bed and heaved. She shoved him over onto his back and rose above him. He growled with satisfaction as he lifted her above his cock and impaled her on it.

“Well…I demand that ye stop risking yer position,” she said.

He guided her up and down. It didn’t take long for her to learn the rhythm. She was suddenly in complete control of their pace, yet still at the mercy of her desire. They were both caught in the same web.

“Me position means naught if it makes me a coward. I’ll speak up and face the consequences me words bring.”

He bucked beneath her and flipped her back over. His pace quickened, giving her the final amount of friction she needed to explode in rapture. She forgot to breathe and didn’t care that her lungs burned. She was caught in the moment of twisting, wringing pleasure that touched every fiber of her being. Gahan ground his length into her, and she heard him snarl as his seed erupted into her womb. It was searing hot, setting off another wave of delight.

The bed became a trusted ally against the fatigue that settled over her. Her muscles were lax and exhausted. Her heart still pounded in hard motions even as it slowed. She felt light-headed, and her eyes closed as the room spun in a lazy circle. And she did not care. Not a bit.

Gahan gathered her close, rolling over onto his back and placing her head on his shoulder. She listened to the sound of his heartbeat as she savored the moment.

“Ye’ll wed me, Moira.”

He stroked her shoulder and hugged her tight. For the moment, everything was perfect.

***