Laird of Her Heart (Dundragon Time Travel Trilogy Book 1) (6 page)

He could not allow that.

He could not let his failure be the cause of her destruction.

But it was clear. He was outmatched. His only hope was to take a swipe at the beast with his knife and hope he hit some vital spot. Trouble was, he needed both hands to hold it off. He tried to roll over, to pin the creature beneath him, but it weighed more than he did, and had all the leverage.

Slowly, but surely, the gaping maw closed in, near and nearer to his jugular.

A horrendous roar resounded through the clearing. Something that sounded like “Hii-ya!” and the wolf went flying sideways into the dirt. It rolled and then leaped to its feet again, but its attention was not on Dominic. It was on Maggie.

And it was really angry now.

“I told you to stay back,” he snapped.

“You were losing.”

“I wasna losing.”

She sniffed and muttered, “Were too.”

The wolf lunged again, straight at Maggie. Horror clutched at his chest, locked his throat, screamed in his veins.

To his astonishment she held still before this oncoming monster and then, at the last second, stepped to the side, slamming the butt of her palm into the wolf’s face.

It yelped, but whirled around to attack again. This time she hunched down and rolled to the side, landing another blow to the beast’s belly as he passed.

It occurred to Dominic that he was standing there gaping, which was not a very manly thing to do, so he leaped into the fray. Between the two of them they fended off another attack. The wolf, now panting, narrowed its eyes on them, contemplating the next incursion, but apparently it decided it had had enough.

It turned around and limped back into the woods.

His breath came in harsh gasps. His pulse raced. Sweat beaded his brow.

They’d nearly died.
She’d
nearly died.

“Oh my God.” Maggie stared after it, her mouth agape. Her breath was ragged, her color high.

“You were wonderful,” Dominic said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her soundly. It was a celebratory kiss, and quick, but it wasn’t near enough.

Her eyes glimmered with a fevered excitement. “Was that a wolf? Did we just fight off a wolf?”

“Aye.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tugged her back in the direction of camp, keeping an eye on the woods.  The creature could come back and he didn’t want to be caught unawares.

“A wolf. An honest to God wolf.”

Her astonishment puzzled him. Wolves were common in Scotland; they plagued hunters and farmers alike. “Do they no’ have wolves in Seattle?”

She snorted a laugh, a giddy thing, as though impelled purely by the effects of her fear. “Well, yes. We do. But only in the zoo. And wolves have been extinct in Scotland since—” She trailed off and shot him one of those chagrined looks he was becoming so familiar with.

Something rippled through his gut. Something very uncomfortable. “Extinct?” What the hell did she mean by that?

“Never mind,” she said, tugging on his hand. “We should get back. It’s not safe here.”

But he would not allow her to distract him so easily. He picked up the pace and said, “Why would you say wolves are extinct in Scotland, Maggie?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You did.”

“You must have misheard me.”

“I dinna. Why did you say that?”

She stopped short. The woman who was in such a hurry to reach the safety of the camp, stopped. Her expression was solemn. “Trust me Dominic, you don’t want to know.” And then she whirled on her heel and hurried down the track.

But he did want to know.

He did.

And he wanted to know where she’d learned to fight like a warrior. With no weapons but those God gave her.

CHAPTER FIVE

When the other highlanders heard there was a wolf in the woods, of course they all had to go hunt it.

Men.

But it left Maggie and Dominic alone in the camp, which she appreciated greatly. They walked back to his tent and she collapsed into a chair.

A wolf. A freaking wolf.

She’d never been so frightened, watching it inch closer and closer to Dominic’s handsome face. She’d never been so afraid. Or so angry. Or so aroused. Adrenaline still surged through her veins. She’d heard the term blood lust before, but she’d never actually experienced it before.

She really wanted to go pummel something right now…

“Here.” Dominic thrust something beneath her nose. A tumbler of amber liquid.

“What is it?”

“Whisky.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t drink.”

“Drink it. You’ve had a shock.”

“So I should do shots?”

His brow rumpled. He dropped into the chair next to her and shook his head. “I doona understand most of the things you say, Maggie Spencer.”

She shrugged and took the drink. “That’s okay. It’s mostly sarcasm.”

He nodded. “Like that. There. No idea what it means.”

“Trust me. It’s pithy and clever.”

“You
are
clever.” His gaze was far too warm. “You saved us both today.”

“
You
saved us,” she said, patting his hand, because a man liked to feel manly. And he had fought well. It was cute how he flushed.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

She took a sip of the drink and liked the warm burn in her throat, so she took another. “Gym class.”

He nodded, though it was clear, once again, that he didn’t understand. But then, how could he? They were worlds apart.

“What did you mean when you said wolves have been extinct in Scotland?”

She choked on her drink. It took a moment to wheeze it out. He waited. “I…you… You misheard me.” Lame. So lame.

“I dinna. And we both know it. Why do you no’ want to tell me what you meant?”

Well hell. Maybe it was the wounded expression on his face, or the whisky or the aftereffects of their encounter with the gaping maw of death, but she just lost all her reserve. It whistled out of her like a deflating balloon. “I don’t want to tell you, because if I do, you won’t believe me.”

“Why do you think I willna believe you?”

“Because it’s a crazy story. And you already don’t trust me. Besides, I don’t quite believe it myself.”

“But…”

She set her fingers on his lips. “Please, Dominic. Don’t ask.”

He stared at her, his gaze intent. The muscle in his cheek worked. And then he nodded. “All right.” He spoke against her fingers, practically a kiss. “I willna ask. But one day you’ll tell me, Maggie.” She tried not to grin at the intimation there might be a
one day
.

And then she did grin, because he leaned in and kissed her.

And her wrists were not tied.

And there was no one to interrupt them.

And her passion was high.

And so, apparently, was his.

* * *

He couldn’t resist, even if he’d wanted to.

She was far too alluring. Beautiful, brave, smart and fierce. And he’d been aching for her since last night. Since he’d tasted her. He deepened the kiss and a flicker of excitement whipped through his gut when she responded in kind. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and was not afraid to take it. He liked that about her. Liked it very much. Especially when she threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged, just a little. The gesture made clear her hunger was as raw as his, as undeniable. As feral.

When her tongue dabbed at his lips, pressed in, his head went light. His blood surged. His cock swelled. He launched to his feet, pulling her with him. He intended it to be a gentle move, but it was not. It was harsh and hungry, but she didn’t seem to mind. She murmured something against his lips, something that might have been
Yes
.

He whipped her into his arms and carried her over to the pallet on the floor. He was certain she could have walked the short distance, but he was far too anxious. He didn’t stop kissing her as he laid her down, but then, she didn’t let him. Her hands were busy, tugging at his tunic, as he worked the infernal buttons of hers.

In the end, they got in each other’s way and had to undress themselves.

With quick, short, desperate moves, he yanked off his tunic and breeks. It took her a bit longer to divest herself of her clothing, but he didn’t mind. He enjoyed the show.

When the band encasing her breasts dropped away, he stilled. The breath locked in his lungs. Lord above, she was beautiful. Her scent—an undeniable arousal, tangled with something earthy and sweet—rose to meet him.

She opened her arms to him and he came to her. No force on earth could have stopped him.

He settled over her—glorying in the sleekness of her skin, of the sensation of her soft body pressing up into his hardness—and cupped her breasts, molded them, tasted them. He couldn’t resist the coral target that possessed his attention. As his lips closed on her thrusting nipple, she moaned, wriggled. She was delicious. Delight danced through him.

As he sank into his explorations, her hands roved as well, over his chest, his belly. The noises she made incited him to madness—moans and sighs and wordless grunted commands. She wrapped herself around him, pulling him deeper into the kiss and raking his back with her nails.

Oh, Lord. Give me strength.

He had intended to prepare her, to launch a slow, sweet seduction. But such restraint was beyond him. Something about her incited a need that bordered on feral. A need to claim her, have her.

He did, however, take a moment to test her, to stroke her cleft. He loved that she spread her legs for him, without a word of request. He loved that her breath came in pants, that her eyes were wild, and her body quivered with need. She shuddered as his fingers scraped over the thick bundle of nerves nested at her core. To his utter gratification, it was slick. He ventured deeper, slipped down and in and— Holy heaven.

She was ready. So ready.

And tight.

Every muscle clenched. His gaze snapped to hers. Burned into hers. “Maggie…” A harsh growl. A snarl.

“Yes.” She wrapped his hair in her fist and yanked; his hunger spiraled out of control. “Yes.”

He fisted his cock and nudged her entrance. Her thighs widened. She stared at him, eyes wide, nostrils flared. Lips moving in a chant. “
Yes. Yes. Yes.”

He thrust, hard and deep.

She wailed her pleasure and arched her hips up, inviting him deeper still.

She was delicious. Delightful. Perfect. She held him hard and fast with the muscles of her sheath, clinging to him with a damp heat. His mind whirled, his chest locked. It was beyond perfect. It was heaven.

But need clawed. He pulled out—though it was torturous to do so—he pulled out and then lunged again.

And again.

And again.

She went wild beneath him, a she-wolf, snarling and raging and nipping at this skin in her frenzy. “Yes, Deeper. Harder.”

He could not deny her. Indeed, he did not want to.

He cupped her ass in his palms and lifted her and, using her body as leverage, launched into a barrage of manic thrusts. From this direction and that, exploring her, invading her, possessing her completely.

Her head whipped from side to side. She writhed beneath him, closed her thighs on his hips. Her body tightened.

A quiver began deep in her core. It walked through his cock, through his body as well to settle in the base of his solar plexus. Rivulets of delight trickled through him, pooled, swelled.

He felt her tension mount and it enflamed his. His vision, his consciousness, his world closed in on one thing. The place where they joined, the heavenly connection where they were one.

His plunges became short and hard, desperate and crazed. He knew she was close but he could not, would not release until she’d found her bliss. He would hold back until that moment. He would wait for her. But it cost him. Sweat beaded on his brow. His heart hammered. His breath locked.

Please. Please. Please…

She released. It was not a peaceful surrender. She was passionate and powerful in her crisis. Her hold on him was fierce, her mouth hot as she roved over his shoulders, licking, nibbling and nipping with a mindless zeal.

And her hold on him… That tight grip on his wet and weeping cock. It made his vision blur, made his mind lock. Made his body fold in on itself.

In an agonizing, blinding rush of ecstasy, he erupted, flooding her with his seed, soaking her with his essence.

Though he was utterly drained, he continued to move, prolonging the pleasure for them both, though his thrusts were slow, easy, soothing.

All the while, he held her gaze, studying her, soaking her in. He loved that her lips quirked up, that she rose up to press her open mouth against his.

He eased her down into the furs and kissed her deeply. Her palms scudded over his back, exploring the gouges she had no doubt left there. “Mmm.”

A murmur. His or hers. He wasn’t sure.

He shifted to the side, though he hated withdrawing from her, and pulled her into his arms.

“I am verra sorry,” he said, although it was probably a lie.

She stared up at him. Tucked his hair behind his ear. “Sorry? For what?”

“I dinna mean to ravage you.”

Her laugh was something of a snort. “Was that what that was?”

“Aye.” He’d been no better than a beast. Or at least, as good as one.

She put out a lip. “And here I thought I was ravaging you.”

With no warning, a laugh rose up within him and he barked it out.

“Do you not feel ravaged?” This she said with a score of nails along his chest that sent a shiver of fresh arousal through him.

He grabbed her wrist in a tight cuff. Not that he didn’t enjoy the sensation of being raked by her, but because he was certain he could not perform for her again…at least not for a long while. She’d devastated him. “A man ravages a woman. Not the other way around.”

“Well, where I come from, men and women are equal. They can ravage each other.”

He liked the idea. Liked it a lot. But he had to ask, “Did I hurt you?”

Her grin was wicked. “Did I hurt you?”