Song of the Highlands: The Cambels (The Medieval Highlanders) (5 page)

His body was stirring, his blood beginning
to heat, as he held her to him. He wouldn’t be able to remain much
longer like this without exploring the curves she so freely offered
up to him. Why
had
she offered herself up to him? Given him
her maidenhead so willingly? ‘Twas a puzzle he’d only just now
begun to study.

He’d already worked out in his mind how he
had continued to be duped, even after stripping her down and having
a good taste of her. It had been pitch black in the chamber, and
her figure was similar enough to Vika’s to not cause him to
question. They’d not kissed, as was Vika’s requirement, so there
had been no way of telling from that type of encounter. That left
only the tasting. But the lass—or Vika, as he’d thought her to
be—had put a good amount of herbal tincture on her curls there,
masking the natural scent as well as the taste of her.

His fingers traveled down and o’er her
rounded derriere cheek and lightly caressed the soft, silken,
hair-covered lips of her scut. He’d taste her again later and learn
just what flavor hers would be.

Morgana moaned in her sleep and lifted her
bottom to his exploring fingers.

He snatched them back. None of that now. But
later, after she’d rested a bit more. ‘Twas the least he could do
for her, to allow her some sleep, after the night he’d given
her—she’d given him.

He turned his mind back to puzzling her out.
Nay, she’d not resisted, not seemed afraid when he’d gone through
the steps of the abduction and seduction that Vika had demanded.
Well, there had been his moment of entry, when she’d tried to pull
herself back with the ties around her wrists, but he’d thought
‘twas part of Vika’s performance, and had redoubled his part as the
seducer, ramming himself even harder into her then.

‘Twas truly a wonder to him that all that
time it had been a novice, an innocent, taking what only a lady
more proficient, more practiced, would have found pleasure in.
‘Twas no wonder the virgin’s blood had flowed and smeared to such a
degree. But, in the end, she had found pleasure in it. And
remembering his own second climax from it, made his blood fire, his
tarse grow achingly hard.

He rolled her off of him and leapt to his
feet. He looked down at her sleeping form, his lungs blowing, his
fists clenched at his sides, and his brow and upper lip damp with
sweat. Desperation driving him, he turned and strode toward the
door, flinging it wide and walking out into the bitter cold late
morn air.

As he stood on the porch, he crossed his
arms over his chest and tucked his hands under his arms. It didn’t
take long for the frigid air to soften the raging erection.

When Robert’s eyes finally focused on the
scene in front of him, he bit back a roar. Then, unable to keep
completely silent, he ground out, “Blood of Christ!”

While they’d been inside, fucking, eating
and sleeping, a storm of a great magnitude had blown in and covered
everything, including the only path up to the cot, with several
feet of snow.

And…. Was it growing colder, even as he
stood there? He shivered and turned, walking back through the
doorway of the dwelling and just barely managing to not slam the
door behind him.

‘Twould clearly be days, mayhap even a
sennight, until his clansmen could get to them. And he needed those
days to work on another plan for obtaining the monies needed to
rescue his holding, save his clan. How many tourneys would he miss
in that time? How much more coin? His eye was drawn to the lovely
lady resting in the corner. And how e’er was he to keep his cock
out of that delectable, tight tail in the meantime?

* * *

“Do you know that you sing in your sleep?”
Robert asked a couple of hours later. They were seated at the
trestle table, eating another portion of the mutton and cheese. He
offered her a bit of bread and she took it. Thankfully, he’d
planned for himself and Vika to be here for much longer a time, so
there was food aplenty in the storeroom, and wine and ale as
well.

Morgana’s brows drew together in confusion.
She placed the fingers of her hand against her throat and adamantly
shook her head, as if saying, ‘’tis impossible.’

Robert nodded. “Aye, you do. The
Pater
Noster
, in fact.” Her eyes grew round at his declaration.

Just the name of that prayer was enough to
send a chill through Morgana. She’d had a dread of it since she was
a bairn, but she had no idea why. And he said she
sang
it?
In her sleep? Her heart began to thud. Her breath caught in her
throat.

An image flashed e’er so briefly in her
mind. Horrifying and awful. ‘Twas
Ankou
, the death god of
old. And he held a limp and lifeless lady in his arms.
“Say
naught. Else you shall be next.”
The image, the voice, faded
just as quickly as it came, as it always did, before she could
learn its meaning. Conjure whom he held.

She stood and walked a bit away, crossing
her arms over her chest and staring, unseeing, at the wall above
the bed.

Robert watched her. It clearly distressed
her to learn of her slumber-song. “I thought you would be pleased
to learn that your voice was not ruined, that you might someday be
able to speak again.”

Morgana ran her fingers along the length of
her larynx. Was it possible? Could she speak? She’d not been able
to utter a word for years now. She opened her mouth and tried to
force a sound from her throat, but to no avail. ‘Twas no use, no
matter how hard she tried, she could not utter so much as a
squeak.

“You’re trying too hard. Relax your throat
and then try again.”

She did as he suggested, but still no sound.
She shrugged and shook her head.

“Finish your meal.” Robert took a long pull
from his tankard. As he set it back down on the table, he smiled
e’er so slightly. ‘Twas a strange twist, was this, him trying to
get a lady to
talk
! Mayhap, ‘twas best to let her be silent,
for who knew what silly, dull utterances would spew from those lips
once she did gain her voice? Nay, he much preferred the silence. It
allowed him to think, to plan, to try to figure out what the hell
he was to do next to garner more wealth.

He studied her then. Besides, ‘twas a boon,
this, having at his disposal the best part of a lady, her
voluptuous sex, sans the worst, her bleating tongue.

* * *

Just as the sun was going down, Morgana,
feeling a bit chilled even with the heat from the hearthfire and
the woolen gown and linen chemise Robert had brought from a trunk
for her to wear after she’d at last risen that morn, walked to the
peg on the wall and took down the scarlet cloak Vika had given her
a few days past.

As she grabbed hold of it, she became aware
of a strange lump under the material. She opened up the cloak and
made a quick search. ‘Twas sewn inside the hem. More curious than
caring of ripping out threads, she opened the hem and took from it
a small pouch. Once she’d loosened the string holding closed the
top, she maneuvered her fingers inside and pulled out two items: A
small square of seed wool and a vial. The pouch still seemed as if
it had something in it. She felt inside, and discovered more seed
cloth. Curious. She shrugged and opened the vial. There was a paste
of some sort inside it. She sniffed. It had a definite scent of
vinegar, along with ginger and possibly anise?

She sealed the vial and was just slipping it
back into the pouch when Robert burst back through the door, his
arms laden with more peat and kindling. His eyes dipped to her
hands and widened.

“Where did you get that? Never mind, I care
not.”

He took another step inside and kicked the
door shut with the heel of his boot. After dumping his burden next
to the hearth, he strode up to her and took all of it from her.

He lifted his gaze to hers. “Know you what
these are?”

She shook her head, her brow furrowed.

“These, used together, will prevent a lady
from conceiving.” Robert’s heart raced. He’d denied himself all
day, afraid that if he even touched her, tasted her, as he’d sworn
he’d do this morn, that he’d not be able to stop himself from
fucking her as well. And now he could. Fuck her, taste her, play
with her, do every lewd, carnal thing he’d imagined doing to her
these past sennights.

“Take off your clothes and lie on the
bed.”

Morgana’s jaw dropped open. Her breath
hitched. Her heart tripped. He was going to take her again!
Finally! Joy and desire warmed her, melted her, readied her. She’d
wondered if he would, after he’d told her that there was little
chance they’d be leaving within the sennight. Even tho’ he had
sworn he wouldn’t until they returned to the abbey.

With trembling hands she unlaced her gown
and walked over to stand by the bed.

* * *

Robert turned back to the hearth and placed
some more peat on the flame. It took a moment for the peat to
ignite, but when he was assured that ‘twould not go out, he rose to
his feet and turned toward the bed. He bit back a loud guffaw.
“Morgana. Take your legs from ‘round the posts and settle yourself
further up on the bed.” After a split second of thought, he added,
“Keep your thighs spread.”

They’d both bathed earlier in some snow
water Morgana had heated and poured into the small tub he’d taken
from the storeroom. There would be no herbal tinctures masking her
natural scent and flavor from him this night.

He was rock hard, to the point it hurt, but
he was damned if he would rush things the way he’d been obliged to
do last night. He took up the seed wool and vial and strode over to
her. Then he opened the vial and dipped the cloth in the paste. He
placed it at her entrance and pushed it deep inside her. She
flinched and bit her bottom lip. She was no doubt still sore from
last night. He’d have to take it easy with her later. He pressed
the seed wool up against the mouth of her womb.

Afterward, with his fingers still deep
inside her, he leaned down and took one of her round pink nipples
into his mouth and began a soft suckling as he gently stroked and
manipulated her cushiony inner walls, teasing her clit with his
thumb. ‘Twas not long before his fingers were saturated with her
love juices.

He lifted his mouth from her slightly and
rolled his tongue around the hardened tip of her breast. Her tight
cleft squeezed and released, squeezed and released when he did
that, so he knew she liked what he was doing. Her breath blew harsh
now, and her hands fisted in the blanket at either side of her
hips.

He trailed his tongue down the milky
blue-veined mound, across the pearlescent valley between, then up
the other, taking that turgid peak between his teeth and tugging it
lightly. She gasped and lifted her hips high off the bed. He
clamped his mouth around it then and sucked hard, moving his
fingers in and out of her in a rapid motion.

She arched her back and he turned his gaze
to her face. Her eyes were clamped tightly shut, but her mouth was
opened wide. She thrust her head backward, the tendons in her neck
strained, a flush traveled up the milky, smooth skin of her chest
and o’er her face. And then the soft, fleshy muscles of her canal
convulsed, and convulsed, and convulsed around his fingers. He
groaned. She was beautiful when she came.

He trailed open-mouthed kisses down her
torso and o’er her flat belly. He nibbled the skin there. It tasted
of sunshine, had the scent of clean, womanly flesh. An image
flashed in his mind of her succoring their babe, but he pushed it
away, refused to acknowledge such an image as something he wanted
from her.

The muscles of her tummy trembled beneath
his lips and tongue. He raised up and repositioned himself on his
knees between her thighs. He kept his fingers deep inside her
moist, hot sheath as he settled onto his stomach and lowered his
head.

He began to feast upon her then. Her sex
scent, her flavor, was the most intoxicating combination he’d e’er
encountered. Sweet and fertile. ‘Twas the scent of woman, and he
couldn’t get enough of it.

* * *

When Robert’s tongue began the same erotic
torment to that ultra-sensitive place where he’d concentrated his
seduction the night before, but this time, with two long fingers
inside her, stroking her, Morgana’s entire being went rigid with
delighted rapture. Her thighs began to quake. She shuddered. He’d
send her reeling again in no time.

A stray thought flitted through her mind:
How e’er could Vika have grown
bored
with his lovemaking?
But in the next second, her canal did its mad dance around his
magic fingers once more and she was again straining and panting as
waves of pleasure coursed through her.

Tho’ her canal was still sore, Robert’s
skillful ministrations had brought forth such profound delight that
it quickly o’ertook the stinging ache his long, thick digits had
initially caused her.

* * *

Robert made her come one more time before he
lifted his mouth from her clitoris. He took a moment to revel in
the highly sensual image before him: His fingers deep inside the
lush, red-lipped cunt of his naturally black-haired lover. He
dipped his head and took one last long suck of her clit, gratified
when her muscles tightened around his fingers and she jerked a
bit.

Then he slowly drew them out of her and
raised up onto his knees once more. He tossed his tunic and shirt
up and off o’er his head and then untied his braies and pushed them
down.

Morgana watched as Robert’s linen
undergarment snagged on his manhood and caused it to bob a bit,
like a jack-in-the-box. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. No
wonder it had hurt so bitterly! He was huge!

“We fit together fine, Morgana, calm
yourself.”

He repositioned his knees on either side of
her hips and walked forward, grabbing another pillow and placing it
under her head and shoulders at the same time. “Take hold of me in
both your hands and put me in your mouth.”