Authors: Kelly Jameson
20
The warmth of his touch made her tremble. Maighdlin leaned away from him. “Ye dunna believe in hitting women but ye would…” she looked around and finished quietly, “…rape me? Finish what those men in the woods….”
“
Nay!” His eyes flashed dark, gold-bronze. “Ne’er have I forced myself on a woman.” He brushed a tendril of her dark hair from her face, wrapped his finger in it, caressed it. “Ye’ll come to me willingly, lass.”
Maighdlin’s
insides twisted into a fearful knot. “Nay,” she breathed. “Nay, ne’er MacAlister.”
His
mouth hardened into a frown. He leaned over, and his warm breath brushed her ear. “We’ll see.”
She
drank the rest of her whisky. It was getting difficult to keep her eyes open. Where was Niall’s ghost? Why hadn’t he appeared to her since she’d come back? She couldna fail him. When would she get a chance to tell Kade what she needed to tell him? Kade was now deep in conversation with Ian, who sat to his left.
Now
that she knew Niall’s secret, the reason he couldn’t cross over yet, she saw Kade in a different light. In his eyes, she saw a flash of the little boy lying on the ground with a broken arm, desperately trying to shield his mother from his towering father’s blows and failing. She saw him as the younger brother who would have to fight for everything, who’d always stood in Niall’s shadow. The man grown, who’d gone off to Ireland to fight and to prove himself to everyone, including a father who was practically blind to Kade’s attempts to find favor in his eyes and who had instead banished him out of madness and fear.
She
saw a man who wanted to trust, but who had numbed himself to his emotions long ago in order to survive.
She knew about that herself.
In
her mind, she saw Kade and Niall as dark-haired, mischievous boys, could imagine them singing in the kirk, giggling in the pews, running around the yard beside the chapel, brandishing toy swords, darting between stones long since weathered to silence.
“
Ian, take Christel to my chamber.”
Ian
nodded.
“
Get some rest, Christel.”
When
she looked at him, he smiled. “I’ve removed the sharp weapons in my room so ye willna be able to slay me in my sleep, lass, much as that would please ye.”
She
stood on shaky legs, and his eyes roved over her body, lingering on the firm mounds of her breasts and the slim curves of her hips. He dragged his eyes back to her face. “Ian, I’ve changed my mind. I will escort Christel to my chamber.”
“
Are ye sure that’s wise?” Ian said.
“
Wise has nothing to do with it. She’s soon to be my wife. I will have a taste o’ her before it’s official.”
“
Nay! I willna marry ye!”
“
Ye’ll marry me. Ye ha’e naught to say about it, MacKinnon.”
Maighdlin’s
fingers twisted and curled in the dull fabric of her tunic. “Well, if ye force me to marry ye, I may speak the words, MacAlister, but I willna mean them, no’ with my heart!”
“
Leave us Ian,” he said, his voice a low growl.
Ian
nodded warily and strode off. Kade took her hand and led her from the hall, garnering more stares as they went. But Maighdlin was too tired to care.
She
wound her way round dark corridors, following Kade, who never released her hand. His grip was firm but not hurtful. Before they reached his chamber, he abruptly pushed her against a stone wall. “Do ye know how badly I wanted to bend ye o’er that table and take ye hard? My sweat mingling with yours, sheathing myself deep inside your softness?” He traced his finger along her cheek and then kissed her. “But I dunna think yer ve’y experienced with men and their ways. I want to change that.” He did not ask permission, his mouth grinding softly against hers. Maighdlin was surprised by the pleasantness of the kiss, the intoxicating pleasure. His kiss was hard and gentle at the same time, fully commanding yet not brutish, as Tomas’ had been.
His
lips explored hers, nipped gently, before his tongue delved inside her mouth. He groaned. “Why do ye have to be a
MacKinnon
? Yer too lovely to be a MacKinnon….”
Maighdlin
tried to turn her head to the side, but he wouldn’t let her.
“
When I found ye in the woods today, those men upon ye…I ne’er felt such rage, no’ e’en in battle! To think what they might ha’e done to ye….”
Maighdlin
frowned. “Yea, surely they would ha’e deprived ye of yer own sweet revenge against me….”
“
Christel, ye
dunna
understand.” His mouth was not done exploring hers. “Sweet, sweet Christel….”
Maighdlin
had had too much whisky. She relaxed into his kiss, letting him lead her, feeling a stabbing, hot, wet heat between her legs, a tingling in her whole body. “I thought I was no’ the type of woman ye desired, MacAlister,” she breathed. He responded by rucking up her tunic and placing his hand possessively on her bare thigh.
“
Sweet God, but ye make me lose my head.” The heat of his palm scalded her very being. She felt she couldn’t resist him. She didn’t
want
to resist.
Masterfully,
his mouth sweetly explored her neck, her collarbone, before returning to plunder her lips again. His masculine scent, his musk and his taste, was working its way into her being against all rationality.
He
lifted his head slowly and looked into her eyes. “Ye dunna seem to mind my kisses now, Christel. No’ so distasteful?”
“
So now it’s Christel again? No’ ‘the MacKinnon’?”
“
Ye didna answer my question. What do ye think of my kisses, sweet flower?”
“
I … I thought ye were going to swallow my head.”
He
laughed, and for a moment, his face was endearingly boyish. Light from the sconces flickered low, throwing shadows across his handsome face, which had turned serious again. More predatory now. “What am I do to with ye?” He still had her pressed to the wall, his hand softly caressing her bare thigh. He moved his hand between her legs, palming her sex through the cloth. She gasped.
“
Shhh, my flower.” Dear, sweet God, the way his hand fit her, the way he moved his fingers gently, wrought a strange response from her, one she hadn’t experienced before. She could not think for the heat of his hand and the ache between her legs.
“
Highlander, stop,” she breathed, even as her hips thrust slightly to his movements.
“
Ye dunna want me to stop.”
It
was true. Her body had become a traitor, eager for his touch. The heat in his hands and his eyes was incredible. She felt her pulse beat in every nerve of her body. She felt so alive in his presence.
“
I fear I will explode if I dunna take ye now.” His cock was so hard it felt stretched to its limit. He took her hand and placed it against the front of his trews to show her.
“
MacAlister … ‘tis no’ wise….”
“
I dunna give a witch’s tit about being wise!” He stopped, looked at her with a crooked smile. “Och, sorry. No offense meant, ye being, well, sort of a witch and all.”
She
couldn’t help the smile curling on her lips. Here was the most powerful man of the MacAlister clan, teasing her, flirting
playfully
with her, his captive, his pawn, his instrument of revenge. He had saved her today from brutality at the hands of those dirty men in the woods. And from Glendon’s cane. And yet she had to wonder why. Had he his own brutality in mind?
He
practically dragged Maighdlin the rest of the way to his chamber. It was exactly what she needed to clear her head. At the sight of his massive, curtained bed, the smile fell from her face. Kade didn’t desire her. It wasn’t possible. He’d simply had too much whisky, and it clouded his mind. He hated her. He’d said so. So why had he been so gentle? Why did he say she was lovely? The whisky talking again. But why did
he,
this stubborn Highland warrior, have to be so darkly handsome, so male?
The
way his eyes looked now, slightly hooded, full of blazing desire, reached into her very soul. She studied his straight, jutting nose, his square jaw with its shadow of rough, dark whiskers, his lips….
Taking
a blanket from his bed, she laid it on the floor before the hearth. He slaked her with his hot gaze. “What are ye doing?”
It
took Maighdlin a moment to answer. He’d removed his plaid and saffron shirt and was bare chested, standing before her in only his trews. His arms and his wide chest were corded with muscle. There was a triangle of soft, dark hair below his navel that disappeared inside his trews. His manhood was still visibly swollen beneath the cloth.
The
firelight threw golden shadows over his skin, and Maighdlin was surprised to find she ached to touch it, to run her fingers over him, to taste him with her mouth. Ironically, his arms looked like they could keep a woman safe, his hands large and masculine.
She
finally raised her eyes to his face and found he was smiling at her. “Do ye like what you see, little flower? But ye are too far away from me. Come here. I’d have yer hands on me. I want to know if ye like to touch me as much as ye clearly like to look at me.”
“
Och! Men! You are brutish and conceited! Ye’ve simply had too much whisky, Kade.”
“
I like the sound of my name on yer lips. Ye’ll use it from now on.”
“
Ye cannot command me and bend me to yer will!”
“
We’ll see about that, little flower. We’ll see about that. I’ll start by bending ye over my knee.”
She
gasped. “Surely ye jest!” But his had face turned serious, and he continued to stare at her. The look confused Maighdlin. It was intense, burning, heated. She couldn’t be sure if it was lust or hate she saw in his eyes.
“
Ye certainly willna sleep
there
ever again,” he pointed at the floor. “Ye’ll sleep in my bed with me from now on.”
She
was too tired to fight him. She gathered the blanket from the floor and made to slip into the wide bed.
“
Nay, little flower,” he said, his voice husky.
“
Ye said I wouldna sleep on the floor. Ye said yer bed. Did ye mean somewhere else then? Och, but I am too exhausted to ken yer meaning.”
“
In my bed, yea.”
“
Ye are insufferable! That’s where I was going….”
“
But first ye need to be taught a lesson for lying to a servant, disguising yerself, and slipping from the keep. ‘Twas a vera dangerous thing ye did.”
“
Yer going to
spank
me?” Maighdlin said.
He
sat down on the edge of the bed, adjusting his painfully swollen manhood as he did so. “Come here, now. The lesson I will teach ye is far less severe than that ye’d ha’e learned in the woods from those men.” He frowned. “E’en now ye could be dead if I hadna found ye in time.”
She
crossed her arms over her chest. “Nay. Ye willna.”
“
Shall I drag ye o’er here?”
Maighdlin
frowned. Tapped her foot. Hesitantly, she closed the distance between them until she stood before him. Before she could utter another word of protest, he reached out and pulled her down so she lay across his knees. One muscled leg wrapped about her slim ankles, and he imprisoned her arms at her sides while leaving one of his hands free.
While
she struggled, he pushed her tunic and her shift up above her waist. And then his large hand was on her naked bottom.
“
Oh Maighdlin, ye are beautiful. Yer bottom is quite lovely, and perfect for spanking.”
Maighdlin
felt her face flush with heat. The warmth of his hand on her bare bottom seared her very core. “Do it Highlander, and ye shall regret it! Ne’er in my life have I been spanked!”
She
shivered as his hand caressed her bottom. “Hmmm. Lovely. Then I shall be the first, and I’d say ‘tis long overdue, brat.”
21
His big hand came down, just as he’d promised.
Maighdlin
squirmed but couldn’t break free. “Let me go!”
Her
bare bottom burned with each smack, and her pale, supple flesh reddened and throbbed. No curve was left unpunished, from her bottom to the backs of her thighs. “Please…please stop,” she pleaded. Hot tears gathered in her eyes. Not from the stinging, but from the humiliation. And the heat between her legs. She was confused. She wasn’t supposed to enjoy this, was she? Yet she ached again. A hot, almost unbearable, yearning ache. She was wet between her legs, writhing for something more….
“
Will ye try to escape me again?” he asked, his breathing raspy, his hand coming down.
She
was silent, which earned her a few more smacks.
“
Will ye try to escape me again?”
“
Nay!”
Another
smack.
“
Nay! I willna try to escape ye again!”
His
hand began to caress her sore flesh softly, and more heat flooded her body, knowing both his hands and his eyes were caressing her. She didn’t understand her response. Pain and then…pleasure.
“
Ye are beautiful, Maighdlin,” he breathed, pushing her legs apart gently and delving his fingers into her wet core. He heard her quick intake of breath. “Oh, I knew ye’d like that.”
Maighdlin
gasped at the warm intrusion, the wetness that met his fingers. Her traitorous hips rolled to meet his thrusts; she raised her backside higher so he could plunge deeper into her core. The flesh on her bottom throbbed and ached as much as the place between her legs.
Then
he released her, and lay her, stomach down, on the bed, her knees on the floor. His big hands parted her thighs wide. “I want to look at ye.”
She
couldn’t speak. She’d never been opened to a man
like this
. She lay, her hips still squirming, feeling empty without his fingers inside her.
“
Oh Maighdlin,” he breathed. His eyes took their fill of her sweet, pink flesh, the softness of her inner thighs, how wet she was for him. He groaned, and then it was his hot mouth tasting her, his lips licking her pulsing core, his teeth nipping her tiny bud, his tongue exploring her, making her feel breathless. “Oh,” she breathed.
Kade
was so hard for her he ached to slam himself inside her. Again and again. He wanted to forget the world around him and be lost in sweet, hot release. He wanted to make her his. But he had to go slow. He stilled his mouth, struggling for control, her scent, her taste pushing him into aching arousal.
She
turned her head on the bed to look back at him. and watched as he pushed his trews down and wrapped his fingers around his large cock. Her eyes widened and her lips parted as he began stroking himself. “Maighdlin,” he groaned.
His
stiff shaft rose nearly to his waist, the tip rounded and smooth. He stroked himself slowly. “This is what ye do to me, Maighdlin.”
He
parted the tangled, wet hair between her legs. His fingers slid around her swollen bud and then thrust inside her. She writhed in pleasure against his hand, unable to hold back. She watched in hot wonder as he then brought his fingers to his lips, tasting her, and returned to exploring her folds, plunging his fingers inside again as he stroked his cock with more urgency. His jaw tensed.
“
Kade?” Maighdlin moaned, watching him, her heart hammering in her chest. The feeling was delicious and she found she liked to watch him touch himself.
She
hurtled ever higher, until her insides clenched in pleasure, her flesh contracting wildly around his fingers in sweet, sharp waves of passion. He stroked himself more intensely. Maighdlin watched, breathing heavily, as his face tightened and he spurted his seed on her backside. “Oh God, yes,” he groaned.
When
his heartbeat returned to normal, he rose on trembling legs, retrieved a cloth, and delicately wiped his seed from her bottom. He put the rag in a heap of discarded clothing to be washed later and pulled his trews up. He gathered her into his arms on the bed, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, stroking her hair, which was now wild and unbound.
The
tears fell freely from her eyes. She didn’t know why she was crying.
“
Shhh,” he said.
“
I thought ye were going to punish me. But it felt more like…pleasure. I didna know my body could….”
He
laughed. His lips kissed hers tenderly. His voice was gruff, possessive. “Some punishments are meant to be so, Maighdlin.”
“
But I expected…pain.” She frowned, biting her bottom lip. “Do…other men do this with their wives and lovers?”
“
Yea.”
“
Kade….”
He
kissed her again, more fiercely this time. “What is it, little flower?”
“
Am I supposed to like it so much?”
He
let out another warm laugh. “Some women dunna. But ye ha’e a sensual nature and ‘tis natural for a woman with a sensual nature to enjoy it so much.”
She
licked her lips. “When ye…when ye make me yer wife, it willna be like this, though, will it? I mean, there will be pain and…it frightens me.”
“
I told ye,” he said, his lips trailing her collarbone, his nose inhaling the scent of her hair, her skin. “I want ye to come to me willingly. I will make love to ye, but ye’ll want me to when it happens. And I promise, I willna hurt ye.”
He
kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “Ye can sleep in my bed tonight. But I dunna trust myself no’ to take ye during the night, so I’ll sleep elsewhere. Though I doubt I will be able to sleep at all, thinking about ye.”
After
he’d gone, Maighdlin fully undressed and climbed into the bed. Her bottom still stung, and heat still spiraled through her body. She felt restless. His masculine scent was still all around her.
Beneath
the silky coverlet, she ran her own fingers over the places he’d touched, her lips, her inner thighs, between her legs, her bottom. Finally, she blew out the candle on the hook above her head and shut her eyes, willing herself not to dream of the dark-haired Highlander.
But
Maighdlin did dream of the dark Highlander. In the dream, she placed her hand upon his bare chest, felt his warmth, his strong, steady heartbeat. And then suddenly she was in a great, mist-shrouded meadow filled with screaming warriors swinging axes and great swords…the grasses swimming in blood. “
Nay!
” she cried. A great, dark horse charged through the mist, straight at her…its rider on the ground, unmoving....
“
Nay!” she screamed louder. Gasping, she awoke to find herself pressed against a bare, warm chest. Strong arms held her. “What has the power to frighten ye so?”
She
realized she was sobbing and tried to still herself but could not stop. It was still dark.
“
I heard yer screams,” he said, rocking her gently.
“
Ye do, Kade. Ye…frighten me.”
“
What were ye dreaming of?” he asked softly.
She
shook her head from side to side. She did not wish to tell him.
He
placed a finger beneath her chin. “Ye’ll feel better if ye tell me.”
She
sighed and relaxed into his arms. “’Twas horrible. ‘Tis the same dream I had before ye took me from my village. I saw a powerful horse charging through a misty meadow, its warrior fallen. There was so much blood….”
“
Shhh,” he said. “’Tis only a dream.”
“
Ye forget, I have the Sight. I can see spirits of people who have no’ crossed o’er. Who are stuck between worlds. No’ always, but sometimes they come to me. They have unfinished business, and want me to help them cross over.”
“
Our thoughts are like rivers, Christel. At night, our dreams follow them. Even if ye have the Sight, ‘tis still just a dream. It doesna mean ‘twill come to pass. We have the power to shape the future…to change it. Mold it. E’en to make it.”
“
The Sight isna something to take lightly. But sometimes I dunna know how to tell my fears and worries apart from the Sight.”
“
I could put the leaves of the Rosemary plant beneath yer pillow. My mother used to do that for me to guard against nightmares.”
“
That would be kind of ye.” Maighdlin shivered, and he stroked her back.
“
Why do ye still tremble, lass? Who did ye see in the dream? Who was the fallen warrior?”
“
Nay.”
“
Tell me, Christel, who was the fallen warrior?”
She
squeezed her eyes shut, found her arms snaking around him, seeking his heat, the solid feel of him, her fingers traitorously winding their way into his midnight-dark hair as she leaned her face up toward his. She opened her eyes and saw the surprise in his, yet he didn’t pull away.
“
Kade…I saw ye in my dream.” She pressed her face into his chest. His heartbeat was strong, warm, the only thing that was real at the moment.
“
And one of the spirits I see now is yer brother. Niall. There is something ye must know. He isna at peace….”
“
I told ye, dunna speak of Niall. We should ha’e to get dressed in a few hours’ time. Soon I make ye my wife. I havena changed my mind about that.” His voice wasna harsh; Maighdlin even thought she detected something tender in it.
“
Curse ye, Highlander. Ye’ll ha’e to keep yer lips and yer hands off me. I canna
think
straight when ye touch me.”
His
look turned serious. “Ye realize that’s a compliment?” His manhood was once again swollen again beneath his trews. “Ye shouldna say such things to me, Christel. Ye dunna realize the power of yer words to stir me, enemy though ye may be.” His eyes dipped to the creamy mounds of her firm breasts, her pink nipples erect beneath his gaze. She blushed and quickly pulled the blanket about her. She’d slept naked; it was less painful after the spanking he’d administered.
How
could this man make her forget she was naked in front of him? It shouldn’t be so…natural…between them.
“
If ye are stubborn enough to marry yerself off to a common villager, then so be it, MacAlister,” she said. “I canna dissuade ye from yer folly. I am no’ Christel MacKinnon. But if we are to be married, ‘twould be wise for ye to take a mistress to…fulfill yer manly needs. For surely I dunna want yer lustful attentions turned on
me
e’ery night.”
Kade
laughed, harshly this time. “I take my women when and where I want them. Ye should know that willna change when I take a wife. Women are complications. And I canna afford complications.”
“
Have ye ne’er loved a woman?” she asked.
“
One woman stole my heart. She’s dead now.” In the light of dawn, he looked like the menacing Highland warrior she’d first glimpsed in the woods by her village. “Ye won’t be locked in my room. Ye can roam the castle. No one will harm ye. Yer under my protection. Help Addie if ye want. But save yer energy for tonight.”
Maighdlin
stared at him and said nothing.
“
And dunna try to escape me again, Christel. Unless ye want another spanking.” He strode from the room.
Maighdlin
considered herself a strong young woman, but she’d never felt more like crying. In a very short time, she’d been viciously pulled from the only home she’d ever known. She’d lost contact with her family and friends. She was alone here, subject to the will and whims of a Highland warrior bent on avenging the deaths of his wife-to-be and his brother. More lives hung in the balance. There was no way to stop it. The clan’s blood was afire, thirsty for revenge, and Kade wouldna stop the men from attacking Brodie’s keep, or her village, even if she married him. Maighdlin knew there was little use in rallying men to arms and then leaving them to wait, idle.
She
didn’t belong here. She didn’t understand any of it. And the only person who could help her uncover the truth was Brodie MacKinnon. She
could not
be his daughter.
She’d
bide her time, try to gain some sort of trust with Kade, some more freedoms, so that at an opportune moment, she could once again flee the keep, this time for good. But only after she’d kept her promise to Niall.
Kade
said he’d been with other women, but had never loved any of them. Except for Fenalla. Perhaps if…Dear God, was she really thinking what she was thinking? If she laid with him willingly, shared her body with Kade, let him take her, he would tire of her sooner. She had no offers for marriage in the village, though she thought Elliot was sweet on her. She’d never encouraged him because he was like a brother to her. She didn’t blame the young men for not wanting to be near her. They’d all considered her a bit strange because of the Sight. It was hard for them to see her as just a person with a different ability. So, it would matter naught if she gave herself to the Highland warrior. After all, she wasna a virgin; Tomas the lunatic had seen to that. And mayhap she would even find pleasure in the Highlander’s arms.