Ashlyn (The Highland Clan Book 5) (11 page)

“All right. I’ll turn on my side first.” She rolled over so her front faced the wall, and she shivered again just from the small movement. The pallet moved as soon as Magnus put his weight on it, and the shifting of the mattress rolled her against him. “What are you doing?”

“Patience. I am a large man if you have not noticed, lass. It takes a moment to adjust, and I’ll only touch you once.”

She did as he asked for one reason only…she could already feel his heat. He arranged himself behind her, turning her so her back was to his chest and his back was to the cold stone wall. She couldn’t help it, she moaned from the sheer heat of him.

“Lass, you’re like an icicle. How the hell are you still breathing? You’ll have me shivering with you. Allow me to put my arms around you just for a wee bit to heat you through.” He tucked the plaid around her legs.

She nodded. His arms came around her and she wished to melt into him. Hellfire, had she ever felt aught as good as this? As soon as his huge arms covered her, she closed her eyes with a sigh. She fell asleep in seconds from sheer exhaustion.

Later in the night, she heard a sound. The bastard Norseman. She could feel his hands on her, the hands that had awoken her. Flailing, she tried to wake Magnus to stop the cruel man, but he slept on. The fool tried to touch her everywhere, so she hit him. Then he moved on to Gracie. His hands were all over her sister, her dear sister, and she was supposed to be protecting her. Her sweet sister Gracie counted on her. She swung and swung to get him away from her until she screamed.

She screamed and screamed and screamed.

The next thing she knew, Magnus was shaking her. “Ashlyn, wake up. You’re having a nightmare. ‘Tis a bad dream. I’m here, I’ll not let him at you again. Wake up.”

And finally she did. She woke up and stared at him standing in the middle of the hut, but in that moment he looked like the bastard who had come after her and Gracie. So she swung and swung. At first he held her hands to stop her from connecting with his flesh, but then he let her go.

“Leave me be. Do not touch me,” she shrieked. Tears stung her eyes as she fought to get away from him. His smell, his dirty hands. The bastard who had come for them near the rocks.

“Go ahead, lass. Let it out. Keep swinging if ‘twill make you feel better.”

“And do not touch my sister either. Keep your hands away. You’re dirty, you’re disgusting.”

She connected with him over and over, but he never stepped back, never stopped her.

“Who? Who is it you’re hitting?” he whispered.

“The man. The disgusting man who came along after my mother was attacked. He woke me up. Gracie and I were hiding behind the rocks, then we slept over by the trees and he found us.” Her hands continued to windmill, but without much force.

“What did he do?”

“He touched me. His hands were between my legs when I woke up, and I hit him and hit him. And then he hit me.”

She screamed in frustration and rage, swinging at Magnus again. Why was she swinging at him?

“What happened next? Did he leave you be?”

“Aye. He did. He left me and he went for Gracie. When I followed him, he had his hands on Gracie’s private parts. He was touching her, and I swung at him and he screamed and I screamed and Gracie cried.”

“What else?”

“Why? Why are you doing this?” Her tears flooded in twin rivers down her cheeks. She cried as she continued to hit Magnus. She knew she wasn’t hurting him—she didn’t
want
to hurt him, but she still swung at him. The fury was inside her again, and it needed to get out.

“Why am I doing what?”

“Why do you allow me to hit you? Why? I should not do it, yet I cannot stop. Stop me, please.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Magnus just stared at her in shock. Something huge had hit him, and it wasn’t a wee fist from a broken woman—it was a piece of her soul. He’d sworn this would never happen again, and yet it had.

She finally fell against his chest, sobbing, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Why, Magnus? Stop me, please stop me. Why do you not stop me?”

“Because…”

“Because why?”

He held her as she continued to sob, the pain she must have endured all these years finally coming out. He might as well just say it. “Because I love you.” Magnus could feel her entire body tense in his arms, and her sobbing stopped. What kind of fool was he to have said such words? He’d sworn never to use them again. And yet he had no desire to deny them or take them back.

She pulled back, gazing into his eyes. “What did you say?” The confusion in her face told him all he needed to know. His feelings weren’t reciprocated. It hadn’t even occurred to her to consider him that way.

“I said I love you. There. I’ve said what’s in my heart. I no longer wish to deny it. I love you, Ashlyn, and I wish to help you fight your demons. And if hitting me helps you fight them, then I will allow it.”

She just stared at him, and he had no idea what to do next. Would she hate him for feeling as he did?

“Why? Why do you love me? I’m not like Rhona at all.” She swiped at the tears on her face.

He tugged her back over to the pallet and sat down with her on his lap, cocooning her in his warmth. She was still a block of ice, even after expending all that energy swinging.

“I know you’re not like Rhona, but I love you for who you are. You are a verra strong, proud, beautiful woman. I understand you may not feel the same way about me, but if you give us a chance, you may someday. I can wait. I have naught at home except my two dogs.”

She leaned against him. “I have always wanted a family,” she said in a whisper, “but I know a lass cannot carry if she will not let her husband touch her. I…I do not know if I could do that. I know how it happens, and all I ever think of is that awful man and the awful Norseman who beat my mother. I’ll disappoint you for sure, Magnus.”

“But you have not minded my touch. You have allowed it when I thought you would react negatively. Mayhap you are changing. I can be a patient man, Ashlyn. I would like to help you get past this atrocity that burdens you.”

“What you say is true. I have not minded your touch the way I have in the past. I…I trust you, I guess ‘tis what it is.”

“I’ll accept that to start. Was there another man before that? Before the Norse came?”

“Nay, my mother was protective of us.”

“Tell me all that happened that night, after Robbie took your mother away.”

She sighed, but then began her story—a story she had never told anyone. “I did not think Mama was coming back. When I felt it was safe, we walked around to find a neighbor, anyone, but they were all gone. The cottages had been burned, so there was naught inside. We had heard the Norse were coming, so my mother had packed some food for us in a satchel in case we needed to run. We had food and water, but Gracie was verra young, so I had to take care of her.” She sniffled and wiped her tears again.

“You feel bad about what happened to Gracie, worse than you do about what happened to you.”

“Aye, I was supposed to protect her.”

“It sounds as if you did protect her. Continue with your story.”

“I returned to the spot my mother had found for us to hide in because there was a small group of trees nearby. We fell asleep and I did not wake up until I felt his hands on me. I fought him, and he was furious, so he hit me and knocked me out. The next time I woke up, he was touching Gracie and I jumped up to attack him.”

“Did you know him?”

“Nay.”

“What happened next?”

“I hit him and hit him and he ran away.”

“So you did protect her.” He ran his hand up and down her forearm, trying to warm her.

“I guess I did, but…”

“But what?” Magnus knew there was more, but she was not ready to tell all yet.

“Naught. ‘Tis all I remember.”

One step at a time. “Ashlyn, I promise you I will never touch you unless you want me to, and I also promise that the moment you say nay, I’ll walk away.”

“What if you kiss me one day, and I ask you to stop?”

“I will.”

“But some say a man cannot stop when he is past a certain point.”

“Whoever told you that is lying. A man can always stop. We may not want to, but we can.”

“Then mayhap I could try sometime with you.” She placed her hand in his and he squeezed it, a light feathery touch.

“I know why you carry the carrots and turnips.” He kissed her hair, then nuzzled her neck just a touch to see if she would accept him, and he was pleased that she did.

“Why?”

“Because you want to make sure you’ll never go hungry again.”

A single tear slid down her left cheek and she smiled. “Aye, ‘tis true.”

“Did you go hungry often?”

“Aye, before we came to Clan Grant. I gave most of my food to Gracie once she was old enough. I was used to being hungry. She was not.”

“You are generous and loyal. I’ll add those two qualities to my reasons.”

“Reasons for what?” She gazed up at him.

“Reasons for loving you.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes and then she licked her lips, and he could feel her pulse increase.

“Will you promise to stop kissing me if I say nay?”

“Aye. I already made you that promise, and it holds forever.” He brushed a stray tear from her cheek.

She giggled. “Forever?”

“Aye, until the day I die, I promise to stop when you ask me to.”

“Then kiss me.”

“Lass, it seems only right for me to say something before we become more involved. After my Rhona, that is…I do not…I do not know if I could ever be a good husband again. If we do this, I want your commitment as an adult woman, not a young lass with her head in the clouds. If we do this, we should marry. Just know that it will be difficult for me. It does not change that I love you, but my heart is torn between two.”

“I understand what you ask. ‘Struth is I have always been curious, but I do not know if I could be a good wife either. My mother taught me that I marry the man I give myself to, but I am so confused right now. And I cannot say that I love you. I have strong feelings for you, and I do trust you, but is that enough for you? I cannot promise what will happen on this night or how far I can go, but I am interested in learning more about what it feels to be in a man’s arms.”

“Are you interested in marriage? I must know this first. Would you be willing if you carry our bairn?”

“Aye. I have always wished to marry and have bairns, but I know not if ‘tis possible. I promised myself I would not marry if I could not tolerate a man’s touch. I have yet to learn the truth of that. If I cannot, then we need not have this discussion. Is this acceptable to you?”

Magnus didn’t need any more encouragement. He’d been staring at those luscious lips of hers for some time now. He kissed her, a tender kiss designed not to frighten her, but to let her know how much he did care, how much he wanted her. He moved his mouth over hers, urging her to part her lips so he could really taste her. To his surprise, he heard a soft mewling sound in the back of her throat that motivated him more than words could ever do.

She parted her lips and he swept his tongue inside her mouth, but slowly, allowing her to get used to him. He teased her, hoping she would meet him, and she finally did, her sweet tongue touching his for a brief moment before she jumped up and said, “Nay.”

“Nay it is.” He ran his hand down his face to calm his needs, but it had gone better than he had expected. He had worried she would push him away at the touch of his tongue, but she had not.

Because she was a bold woman, something he’d known all along. He’d also wager she’d be an equal partner in bed, if he could ever get her that far. Once she discovered her sensuality, she would probably be insatiable.

How would he get her to that point?

She rubbed her hands down her arms. “Are you angry with me?”

“Nay. I promise I will not get angry with you if you tell me nay.”

He stood from the pallet and sat on the stool, resting his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “I promise, Ashlyn. Now answer me this. Did I hurt you?”

“Nay.” She stared up at the ceiling, and even though it was still dark, he could tell she was struggling to keep the tears from falling.

“Come, let’s go back and get some sleep.” He held his hand out to her.

She placed her hand in his, but she didn’t move. “Kiss me again, but while we’re standing, so I can back away quickly if I must.”

He quirked his brow at her, but she did not change her mind. “All right.” He moved toward her, almost touching but not quite. He cupped her face with his hands and touched his forehead to hers. “You’re sure?”

“Aye.”

He kissed her, molding his lips with hers, parting her lips with just a bit of pressure, and she gave in to him immediately. Angling his mouth over hers, he savored the taste of her, wishing she would give him the chance to pleasure her.

She moaned and leaned in to him, pressing her breasts against him, enough so he could tell her nipples had peaked, even through the rough fabric, though mayhap that was only from the cold.

He pulled back, “Ash, may I feel your soft skin against mine?”

Her answer came out in a breathy pant that pleased him. “Aye.”

His hand moved to the ribbons on the front of her shift and he tugged on them, surprised to feel her hand assisting him with his task. When he freed her breast from its confines and cupped the full mound in his hand, he groaned with pleasure, rubbing his thumb across her nipple. She responded to his touch by arching her breast into his hand, her hand gripping his bicep tightly. Aye, she would be a passionate one. Her soft sounds urged him on, so he moved his hand lower, grateful she’d removed her trews before climbing into bed.

His hand moved down toward her hip and over to her belly, and he knew it was wrong the moment he did it.

She jumped back, “Nay.”

“All right.” He stepped back, his raging arousal speaking to him even though he denied it. Spinning on his heel, he opened the door and stepped outside into the cold blast of winter.

“Magnus?”

“What?” he bellowed. He took a deep sigh as the cold helped douse the fire in his veins.

“You promised.”

“Promised? Aye, I did. You said nay, I stopped.” He stepped back into the doorway. “I stopped, just as you asked.”

“Close the door, please. And you’re angry. You said you wouldn’t get angry if I said nay.” The frown on her face told him everything.

Despite all she’d been through, despite how strong and courageous she was, Ashlyn was in many ways an innocent. He rubbed his hand in his hair on the top of his head. “Ashlyn, I’m not mad. ‘Tis just that men…men sometimes…get excited. ‘Tis hard to put an end to it that quickly.” He stared at her, wondering if she understood any of what he said. Hell but his mind was spinning.

“Excited?”

“Aye.”

“About what?”

“About you, lass.” He sauntered over to her and leaned over to gaze into her big brown eyes. “You excite me. The feeling of you in my arms, the thought of making love to you, stirs my blood.” He leaned over to whisper into her ear. “I want you.”

“You do? I do? I…I’m confused.”

“We’ve done enough for one night, and I promise you that you did not anger me. Do you believe that?” He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips, kissing her knuckle.

“Nay. I want more. I want you to touch me there. Mayhap ‘twill erase the other from my mind. Mayhap ‘tis what I need, Magnus. Please? I’ll try my best not to stop you this time.”

“You are sure this is what you want?”

“I am. I…want you, too. And I cannot be sure how I will feel after, but I would like to try.” She gazed up at him between her lashes and he was lost. “What if this will put an end to my nightmares? Mayhap a good touch will end my fears. I do not want my nightmares to go on any longer. Please?”

Hell, she’d be the death of him yet. He scooped her up in his arms and placed her on the pallet, as gingerly as he could. “Lass, I’m going to take your shift off, and I’ll keep you warm with my heat. I promise.”

She nodded and held up her arms for him. He decided to keep his plaid on for her shyness. Since she had brothers, his anatomy was not likely to shock her, but he decided to play it safe. Plaids could come off in a hurry if need be—the true reason a Scotsman wore his plaid, to his mind.

He covered her body with his, and she moaned as soon as he held himself up on his elbows, caressing her soft silky hair, tucking the wild strands away from her face. “You are happy so far?”

“Aye, you are so warm.”

“Hot, lass. I am hot for you.” He sucked on her lower lip and cupped her breast with his hand, sighing in pleasure at the feel of its fullness. “Ashlyn, you are every bit as beautiful as I knew you would be.” He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and smiled at her reaction to his touch. She was a wonderful mix of delight and confusion. Aye, she had no idea what was coming, but he had all the time in the world to bring her to climax. And that he would.

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