Risk Everything (21 page)

He bounded to his feet and ordered the servants to clear the tables. Though he wore a tartan belted around his waist, she spied the telltale signs of a manroot fully engorged.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. Instead, she took a quick gulp of the wine he had been coaxing down her since they started their meal. He was more subtle than most, but she knew when a man tried to soften her.

When all was set aright again, he didna need to call for silence. He grabbed her wrist and hauled her to her feet. Impatience sparked from him. Within a few scant breaths, they stood in the cleared center of the great hall.

He scanned the room, then looked down at her.

“ ’Tis time.” Thick lust made his voice husky.

Meghan looked around and did not see Father Mark. “Wait.

Though ’tis not necessary, I would pledge afore a priest.”

Rolf ’s voice lowered. “He was not able to attend.”

She frowned, for those within their hearing looked at each other.

“We need no priest,” he continued. “All here will witness our pledge to each other.” He turned her toward him and clasped her hands. He took a deep breath and spoke loud and clear for all to hear. “Know all ye that I, Rolf, the MacDhaidh

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of Rimsdale, pledge myself to Meghan, a Morgan of Blackthorn. I keep myself only to her
for as long as we are one
.”

He waited but a scant second afore he squeezed her hands, impatient for her to cite her pledge. She hesitated, still uneasy.

Her teeth nibbled her lower lip.

“Come, Meghan,” he murmured, his voice laden with passion. “I am no nithing of a man who will let you escape me now.”

She blinked. Her heartbeat quickened, for she had longed for this union for so many years.

’Twas the reason no suitor could win her hand.

“I, Meghan of Blackthorn, pledge myself to Rolf, the MacDhaidh of Rimsdale. I keep myself only to him . . .” Her voice faded. What had he said? Had she not heard all he said?

Mayhap the wine made her forgetful. She started over. “I keep myself only to him
for a year and a day, as long as we
are one
.”

She felt his hands jerk at her words. Before she could worry further, his hard muscled arms surrounded her, and he kissed her so thoroughly she was in grave danger of forgetting her own name.

Where the room had been silent before, it erupted in bed-lam. Men were men, alike everywhere. They hooted, banged their fists on the table, and yelled advice. When Rolf released her at last, breathless and weak-legged, she clung to his shoulders for support.

His hot gaze probed her face. Why was there such triumph in his eyes? He swooped down and effortlessly lifted her in his arms, and she gasped.

“Come. I have waited overlong for this night,” he whispered. He kissed her again, hard and fast this time. His impatient strides took them from the room and up the stairwell to the landing above.

The clamor below faded to a faraway murmur.

Chapter 16

Meghan’s heart quickened with each impatient leap Rolf took up the stairwell. When they reached the landing, his arms tightened further, as if fearing she would break free and flee.

As if she could.

’Twas not only his undisguised anticipation, but the drumming of his heart beneath her ear that weakened her. If she needed further proof of his eagerness, she could not doubt the flaming hardness that throbbed against the side of her waist.

He thrust open his solar door and slammed it shut with the heel of his boot. Just paces from his bed, he halted to gaze down at her. A stiff breeze from the window opening enfolded them, and his arms tightened.

Her breath caught at the expressions flashing through his gleaming eyes. Triumph. Passion. Impatience. All were there, undisguised.

His gaze held her own as he lowered his arm beneath her knees to straighten her in his arms. Each inch she moved against him sparked hot fire through her flesh. Hard. All of him—his massive chest, the hard slab of his belly, that hot and eager part of him—until soft lips claimed hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, afeared she would slither to a puddle on the floor. His ardent tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding she open to him. She did. He probed her mouth, explored her, tasted her. Hesitant at first, she welcomed him and opened wider. A growl rumbled up from deep in his chest. She shivered, for it reminded her of a ravenous wolf about to devour a deer.

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He raised his head and looked at her, studying her face and seeming to hesitate. What did he seek there? She grasped his cheeks and brought his lips back to hers. This time, it was she who ran her tongue over his lips, shy and reticent. He opened, slowly at first, teasing, until she became bolder and demanded entrance. He tasted of sweet wine and mint, a heady mixture.

“Ah, Meghan lass.” His whispered breath tickled her lips.

He held her motionless with his gaze as he unfastened the silver girdle. The links tinkled together, a merry tune, as it fell to the floor. Her tunic followed, soundless.

He slid his hands down her arms and over her hips, then he stopped to kiss her again. So engrossed in what his mouth was doing to hers, when his lips released her, she tried to follow them, unwilling to be parted. He grasped her sheer smock, lifting it to her shoulders and over her head.

No longer within his arms, she felt the cold air float over her, startling her. Naked, all but for stockings and shoes, she stood there. Heat flushed her face and traveled down to warm her neck.

Rolf chuckled. A wicked, enticing sound.

“Such a lovely sight, Meghan lass, with your face flushed.”

He stroked his fingertips down her cheeks. “Your neck.” His gaze traveled over her, following his fingers as he caressed her.

“Ahh, even your breasts. Golden and rosy at the same time.”

For a moment, his gaze hardened, then heated again. He rained damp kisses from her jaw to the tops of her breasts. “I would know how they came to be so sun-kissed. Later,” he breathed the word, then caught his breath as his lips found her nipple.

Shock rippled through her as he took it between his teeth. He released it, and it thrust toward him and begged his attention.

“Ah, so sweet, like sun-ripened cherries.” His hot, wet lips swooped over it to draw it into his mouth to suckle.

Lightning traveled to the pit of her stomach. She grew heavy there. Fiery. Dewy.

He grasped her hips and lifted her to rub her aching flesh

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against his hardness. She gasped and moved against him, seeking to quench the need growing with each breath.

“Ah, sweetling.” He chuckled, triumphant. His hand dipped between her legs to cup her, and now it was he who surged against her; he who strained and ground against her flesh.

“So fiery. So moist.” Sliding a finger into that tight heat, he took a deep breath. “ ’Tis eager you are.”

Rolf began kissing her again, harder now as he guided her back till her legs bumped the bed. Grasping the edges of the soft green blanket and white sheet covering it, he whipped them back and lowered her onto the downy pallet. He removed her shoes and peeled her stockings from her, then left her but long enough to near tear his own garments off and toss them atop his clothing chest.

With the moon’s light streaming in from the window opening, Meghan spied his bare flesh as he stripped. Her mouth went suddenly dry. She was no innocent as to how a man was made, for the men of her family were known for their mas-culine prowess, their ability to please a woman. Yet, Rolf ’s size surprised her. She knew a woman’s body was made to ac-commodate a man. Too, she was no wee slip of a girl. Even so, her eyes widened.

The moment his hot flesh spread over every inch of her, she caught her breath at how he made her feel. She was enveloped in the scent of him, which tripped her heart and heated her flesh. Fully aware of his massive power now, she, who had always prided herself on her courage, was as other women.

Weak. Helpless. Powerless.

Her heart beating wildly, she grasped his shoulders.

He nibbled her ear as his fingers roved over her. He reached her center and found her legs locked together. “Ahh, nay, lass.”

Rolf ’s knee urged her legs apart though she would have kept them together. He settled his body there between her thighs, and the feel of his hot, hard shaft resting against her thighs worked magic over her swelling flesh. She jerked as

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his fingers threaded through her damp hair and found her nub, swollen and throbbing.

“Mmm, ’tis but a small bit of pleasure now, lass.” His finger again entered her, teased her.

Too tight at first. Her body gave around it, surprising her. He stroked and tantalized as he drew on first one nipple then the other. She tried to force her hips to stillness. She could not.

Rolf ’s breathing became heavy, labored, and he again growled deep in his chest. He nestled his hips against her, and the blunt tip of his tarse nudged at her opening, hot and turgid. Startling.

“Nay, Rolf, please, ’tis—”

“Shh, Meghan mine.” He entered, restrained at first as he eased into her. She started again to tell him he was too large, but she realized with each thrust that her body sought to keep him within. She gasped at how his entering made her feel.

Complete. She had waited these many years for him. For the rightness of it. He lowered his hips, withdrawing and entering, each stroke easing deeper into her. She gripped the hair at his temples. He lifted his head from her breasts, his passion-glazed eyes staring into hers.

“Look at me, Meghan. Know that it is the MacDhaidh that possesses you.” With that, he surged forward, halted a moment, then broke through to bury himself deep.

She tried to draw away, unable to stifle a soft cry. Her hands jerked hard on his hair. His eyes cleared. For a moment, he looked grim.

Shock held Rolf still. When he had found her so very tight, he kenned she had been without a man for some time. Reaching her barrier, he dismissed it as fancy. One powerful thrust and he claimed her as his own. Once he broke through, he could not deny it.

Meghan had been a virgin.

Elation soared. Only he had lain between her legs. He studied her face. Her lower lip was clamped between her teeth, her eyes pressed shut. He held still until her body began to

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relax as her pain ebbed. Lust filled his sac near to bursting.

Its weight rested there against her nether cheeks.

He placed soothing kisses on her chin until her lips relaxed and he could capture them. He moved only after she began to respond. Slow at first. Ever cautious of her. His thighs clenched as he sought to control the desire that surged like a ship driven afore a storm. She tensed, and he lifted to smooth a hand over her skin. Quivers began low in her stomach. He raised higher. His fingertips sought her hot slickness to rub and tease her flesh.

Her first release exploded through her, and he rumbled with satisfaction and clasped their bodies close again. His pace quickened as he plunged and retreated, until she was in the throes of her climax. She clawed his back. She whimpered. Cried out. Only then did he allow his own release.

Never had he experienced such. Never had a woman matched him in passion. Eager with each spasm from within her, his tarse responded until every drop of his seed burst into her.

Rolf rested his forehead against hers until he caught his breath. Neither spoke. Finally, she surprised him with a wry chuckle.

“Ne’er did I expect such. ’Tis no wonder lasses smile so after they couple. I have missed much, it seems.” She grinned up at him. “Years to make up for.”

Anger exploded through him. “Why didna you tell me?”

“Tell ye what?” She tilted her head, puzzled.

He moved to her side and pointed at her bloodstained thighs. “What?” he repeated her word, becoming angrier.

“That you were virgin. I could have made it easier for you, you daft woman,” he shouted.

“Did ye ask?” she hollered back.

“I didna feel the need.” His voice shook the bed.

“Didna feel the
need
?” She sprang to a sitting position.

Winced. Her eyes widened, realizing what he inferred. She struck him hard across his cheek.

He was too surprised to react.

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“Ye thought me a trollop? A woman who spreads her legs for any well-hung male?” Her eyes glared lightning flashes at him. “If that is what ye kenned, why did ye wish to handfast with me?”

Rolf refused to answer. Her mouth turned grim. Shame flushed her face, and she grabbed the sheet and covered herself.

“If that be what ye believed, then I ken I lack experience.”

Her fingers twitched, then clenched. She looked mad enough to tear his eyes out, sitting there clutching the material around her breast. “I have no doubt men aplenty will be happy to supply the schoolin’.”

At the thought of Meghan sprawled beneath another man, hot fury erupted from the depths of his body and roiled up; his face and neck felt twice their size. He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back on the bed to straddle her, locking her hips between iron-hard thighs. He grasped her face and forced her to look at him.

“I have branded ye
mine
. My property. My possession.”

Each word was harsh and cold as he rocked her face back and forth, then brought his own close to hers. “Ye belong to me now. Ne’er will ye lie beneath another man.”

She clawed at his wrists and twisted her head until he let her chin go. “I am no man’s property. No man’s possession.”

She spit the words at him. “Get off me.”

Suddenly, she went still. Her head whipped to stare at the corner to the right of the heavy door, several paces from his clothing pegs. Shock widened her eyes. She blinked several times, then turned back to him.

He had no need to see what had startled her. ’Twas her brother’s stained clothing upon the stand, his armor and helmet atop its holder. At first glance, it appeared like a man who stood there. A man who observed them.