Haunted by the Highlander: A BDSM Story (2 page)

Stepping into her heels, Samantha
hauled open the door and shivered as a cold breeze flowed over her. The hallway
was dimly lit and the shadows moved, though she couldn’t figure out why. The
breeze stopped abruptly and she pulled her door shut quickly and hastened down the
stairs, her heart beating a tattoo in her chest. God, this place was creepy.

Giggles emanated from the room to
the left of the entrance way and Samantha blew out a long breath as she found
her friends in the dining room, sat at a long dark wood table.

Lucy looked her up and down and
whistled. “Nice, Sam.”

She rolled her eyes and seated
herself next to Lucy as Fran pushed a bottle of red across table. Pouring a
generous glass, she took in her surroundings. The ceilings were lower in this
room and the chandelier hung close to the table. A large fireplace sat behind
her and it roared audibly with each gust of wind.

“Cheers, ladies,” Annie said with
a smile as she raised her glass.

Everyone echoed the sentiment,
taking large sips of their wine and Samantha felt the soothing warmth of the
alcohol work its way through her. She smiled at her friends and then at Aileen
as she brought in steaming plates of stew. It was not haute cuisine but it
looked delicious. Maybe this weekend wouldn’t be so bad after all.

***

Full of wine and good food,
Samantha sat back in her chair and patted her stomach. “God, I’m done in.”

“I hope not,” Annie said with a
grin. “We’ve still got ghosts to hunt down.”

“Don’t remind me.”

As if summoned, Aileen appeared
behind them. “Ladies, it’s time to start the ghost tour. We’ll be turning off
the lights so do be careful.”

Samantha came to her feet and put
a hand to her head as it swam. Yep, too much red.
This should be fun.

Aileen handed them all torches
before poking at the fire until the flames died to a gentle glow. The lights
went out suddenly and they all screamed as they were thrown into darkness.

A torch came on and they all
followed suit as Aileen laughed. “We’ll start in the library. It’s said that
the late laird of Inverrock likes to reside there. He likes to re-arrange all
the books so watch out for flying books.”

Clutching her torch to her chest,
Samantha gulped and shuffled after Lucy, training her torch on her back. As
they sidled out of the dining room, her torch flickered and gave up.

“Fuck.” She stopped and hit it
with her palm. It flickered briefly but refused to turn back on. “Lucy?” she
called but no one responded. Blinking, she peered through the gloom but she
couldn’t see a thing. Should she follow after them? She glanced around and her
gaze latched on to the dim glow of the fire. No, it would be better for her to
stay here and wait for them.

Fumbling her way back to her
chair, she grasped a bottle of wine and put it to her lips. Well, at least she
wouldn’t have to hunt for ghosts. There were worse ways to spend an evening
than nursing a bottle of merlot.

The warmth of the wine trickled
through her body and pooled in the pit of her stomach. She let her legs fall
open and giggled to herself as cool air brushed at her bare sex, feeling silly
and horny at the same time. Yep, she needed a man.

“You lost?”

Samantha screamed and flung the
bottle in the air, sending its contents sloshing across her dress as it
clattered on the table, by some miracle not smashing.

A man stepped into the amber
light of the fire and she gasped. Tall? Check. Dark? Check. Handsome? Hell,
yeah. And he wore a kilt. A
kilt
for Godsakes!

Attempting to control her
breathing, she slapped a hand across her chest and cast her gaze over him,
taking in the sight of his strong legs, up to his blue kilt, to his black
woollen jumper. Finally she studied his face. She couldn’t see the colour of
his eyes but his face was the sort of rugged handsome you’d expect in the
middle of the Highlands. Chiselled jawline, dotted with stubble and eyes that
crinkled with amusement. Samantha’s mouth dried as his lips split into a grin.

 “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare
you.”

Coming unsteadily to her feet,
Samantha waved away his apology. “No, it’s okay. I’m just a little jumpy…all
the talk of ghosts and whatnot…”

He nodded and curled his hand
around her elbow as she wavered. His fingers were warm and coarse and sent a
surge of awareness straight to her pussy.

“I didn’t think there were any
other guests staying here this weekend,” she said as she plucked at the
neckline of her dress, now soaked in wine.

“I’m not exactly a guest,” he
said with a smile, his fingers remaining on her arm.

“Oh.” Tugging her sodden dress
away from her chest towards the light of the fire to inspect the damage, she
belatedly released that she’d given him a good look at her cleavage. She
snapped her hand to her side and flushed as he eyed her with a knowing grin.

“You could do with a change of
clothes, I think.”

“Yes, though I don’t trust myself
to find my way back to my room…not after…” She motioned to her discarded bottle.
She was not drunk exactly, just very tipsy. There was no way she’d make it up
those stairs in the dark in one piece.

“Not to worry, lass, I know this
place like the back of my hand.”

Lass.
His broad accent rolled over her,
sending her knees weak and she nodded mutely as the man released her elbow and
wrapped his arm around her, clasping her hip in his hand. Warmth pooled in between
her legs as he urged her forwards with confidence.

“Not interested in hunting out
ghosts then?” he asked as he helped her up the stairs. The meagre night
illumination filtered in through the windows but she could still barely figure
out where to step next. Her guide seemed perfectly confident, however, and steered
her easily up the stairs and into the east wing.

“I can’t say it’s my kind of
thing, no.”

“What’s your thing then?”

You.
She shrugged as heat spread
across her chest. “I don’t know. Peace and quiet, I suppose. I don’t see being
scared to death as entertainment.”

“Inverrock is peaceful most of
the time.”

“Yes, I suppose it must be. You
don’t think it’s haunted then?”

“Ah, I didn’t say that.”

He stopped outside her door and
Samantha frowned. She didn’t remember telling him her room number. God, she was
more drunk than she realised.

“So it is haunted?”

Though it was dark, she could
sense his gaze on her, his mouth probably twisted in amusement.

“Maybe.”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“Inverrock is centuries old. Its
history spans all the way back to the 11th century. A place like this holds
memories. Whether they are ghosts or not, I can’t say.”

She shoved her key clumsily into
the lock and pushed open her door. She felt the kilted man follow closely behind,
the heat from his body quickly traversing the space between them. She breathed
deeply and frowned. She expected the smell of cologne or perhaps soap but she
couldn’t smell anything. Not even the scent of male musk.

Facing him again, she noted that
the light coming in through her windows was brighter here and she could see his
features clearly. Jesus, he was sexy. So broad and rugged. He towered over her
small frame. Her gaze landed on his lips which were, as she had suspected,
tilted in amusement.

“Have
you
seen any
ghosts?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What does that mean?”

He chuckled but said nothing and
Samantha shook her head. What an elusive man he was. Picking her way carefully
across the floor, she swore as she stumbled over her trainers.

“Are you okay, lass?”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. Her shin
smashed into the chair and she yelped, clutching at her leg. She hopped around
for a moment and stumbled, falling with a cry to the floor.

There was a rasp and a crackle as
the man lit a match and set it to the candles on the mantelpiece. He looked
over her with a raised brow.

“Who carries matches around in
this day and age?” she muttered to herself as she pulled herself to sitting and
inspected her shin.

“I do, especially in an old place
like this.” He knelt down in front of her and brushed his fingers over her leg.

She gasped but couldn’t bring
herself to withdraw her leg from his touch. Her skin tingled with awareness.

“No permanent damage,” he
concluded, meeting her gaze from under his brow. “Though you’ll probably have a
bruise in the morning.”

Samantha stared at him as his
fingers lingered on her calf, stroking absently. An odd pressure pushed against
her back, like icy cold fingers, and with a slight cry, she flung herself
forwards. She looped her arms around the man’s neck and he gave a startled
grunt before wrapping his arms around her waist.

He gazed down at her and she
realised now his eyes were green. Deep, dark green and they sucked her in.
“S-sorry,” she flustered but before she could pull back from him, he swooped
down and captured her lips.

A vague part of her wondered if
she should pull away -
I don’t even know his name
- but his tongue
invaded her mouth and all thoughts of escape left her and she moaned against him.
God, this man knew how to kiss!

His lips were oddly cool but her
body surged with heat as his tongue clashed with hers and she snaked her hand
up through his hair, tugging at the silky strands. He growled and pressed the
kiss deeper, increasing the ache between her thighs as his hands kneaded her
back. The man hauled her onto his lap and she stiffened and made a sound of
surprise as the evidence of his desire prodded her bottom.

Releasing her mouth, he looked at
her with regret. "Sorry."

Samantha shook her head rapidly.
"Don't be...I..." She sucked in a breath as she noted the hungry look
in his eyes. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. This gorgeous, sexy
Scot wanted her. She allowed a smile to thread its way across her face.
"I'm not."

Studying her for a moment, he
tangled a hand into her hair and swept it back from her face. "Good,"
he said before claiming her lips once more.

Samantha relaxed into him and let
the desire sweep through her body once more. Her skin prickled, her body
throbbed. Never had any man had such an effect on her. Not even Marcello. Why
not shag him? If the pulse of his cock was anything to go by then this was
where it was heading. A hand curled around her neck, his callused tips sending
a shudder down her spine and she sighed, gripping him tighter. Yes, why not
indeed.

Curious fingers snaked under the
neckline of her wet dress and she arched up into his touch. He groaned at the
feel of her soft flesh before pressing down across her stiff nipple. He plucked
and pulled roughly at it until she whimpered. With a sudden movement, he thrust
her dress around her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra along with it and
his mouth was suddenly on her breast.

The moist heat of his mouth made
her cry out as he pressed her back against his arm, cradling her as his teeth went
from one breast to the other.

"God, you taste good,"
he murmured against her skin. "You are so bloody gorgeous, lass."

Her heart twinged in appreciation
and she threw back her head and gave herself up to his mouth, digging her nails
into his scalp in a bid to keep him in place. His mouth left her skin and she
shuddered as the air chilled around her. The man drew her back up to sitting
and palmed her flesh as he kissed down her neck.

"I want to fuck you,"
he told her as he unhooked her bra.

Samantha nodded mutely, her eyes
wide as his coarse words sent a flutter to her dripping cunt.

He didn’t say anything, just
stared down at her, tracing every inch of her with his gaze. Her nipples
hardened so much that they ached. She stared back as she waited. Waited for him
to make a move. Waited for that hard cock to be unleashed. Her heart pounded in
her ears.

A hand clasped over her breast
again and she sighed in relief as he plucked at her nipple before giving it a
sharp tug. She released a small cry of surprise as her pussy flooded and she
flopped against his shoulder, his strong arm around her back.

Cradling her as if she were a
delicate treasure, Samantha enjoyed the moment, as the feeling of being
protected mingled with the apprehension of what he could do to her with his
muscular body and rigid shaft.

“I want to fuck you,” he murmured
into her ear as he dipped his head to nip at her lobe, “really, really hard.”
His hand slipped from her breast and pushed underneath the fabric of her dress.
She heard the little moan of appreciation as his hand encountered her slick,
bare pussy but barely had time to register it before his fingers pressed
sharply into her sheath.

Galvanised by the intrusion of
his powerful fingers, she arched back into his arm and he used the opportunity
to bite down on her neck, securing her flesh between his teeth as if claiming
her. She shuddered and gasped.