Sins of the Highlander (A Highland Erotic Romance) (7 page)

BOOK: Sins of the Highlander (A Highland Erotic Romance)
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Niall shook his head, but he slipped his arms around her and held tight. The feel of the raised silvery lines beneath his fingertips deepened the ache in his gut.

“Never again,” he whispered. He meant it. He knew he would be forced to let her go. He understood that the Mackenzie would marry her to some high-ranked lord, maybe a Lowlander or even a Sassenach. He would find a way to live with that, because he had made a blood oath of fealty.

But from now on, Niall would protect Lady Aileen. If any man touched her in anger, ever again, that man wouldn’t live another day to tell the tale.      

“Kiss me,” she whispered. “Please, Niall.”

He touched his lips to hers, at first seeking with desperate tenderness, and slowly allowing all his regret to flow out from the kiss. He nipped at her soft lips, sucked them between his teeth, and explored her sweetness with his tongue. The kiss evolved from a question to a claiming. As he kissed her, he settled her back onto the bed on her back with him over her, resting his weight on one elbow while the other stroked over her silky skin and then lower.

Easing his hand between her legs, he cupped her mons in his palm. Moaning, she ground wantonly against the heel of his hand, scorching him with the hot, wet folds of her sex.

Oh, aye, she was ready.

He drew back to gaze down at her. Her eyes glowed as she smiled at him. It was the first time he’d seen her look truly happy.

Biting her lip, she drew her arms around him and slowly opened her legs wide in blatant invitation.

Niall held his cock at her entrance, his control so near to shattering that his legs shook. Slowly, he nudged inside, closely watching the expression on her face.

Her lips parted. She wiggled, trying to rush him along, to force him deeper, but he took his time, again savoring every delectable inch her body took him in. Finally, with one last nudge, he sheathed himself to the hilt. Aileen’s breath released with a whoosh, and her body arched up to greet him.

She was wrapped around him to the root, as tight and hot as a glove. He groaned as the pleasure spread from his cock to his ballocks and through every nerve in his body. “You fit me perfectly.”

Then he began to move. Slowly at first, so he could revel in her sheath gripping him so tightly. But then the world disappeared and there was only heat and friction and the clenching that took his breath away. She wrapped her legs around his hips, opening wide for him, pushing him deeper with her heels. Her nails raked over his back, and she gasped and sighed, her little sounds of pleasure ramping up his own desire for her.

Staring down at her face, he thrust deep, until his pelvis ground against her. Her lips parted, and her eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly, she stiffened. Her nails dug into his back and she cried out.

There it was again, that glorious pulsing. All around the most sensitive part of him, and he felt her everywhere—through him, over him, deep inside at the very core of his being.

Niall’s jaw clenched as he pounded into her ruthlessly, abandoning all thoughts not having to do with the intensity of this pleasure. Pressure built in his ballocks, drawing them up tight against his body, but he grasped for a thread of control and held on desperately. He wanted to pleasure her. He wanted to make it last.

Aileen wriggled beneath him, making little keening sounds. The fist of her sheath gripped him harder, viselike. He couldn’t hold on, not for much longer. Sweat beaded on his temples. Aileen’s movements became more desperate. Her body undulated as the waves of another orgasm washed over her. Niall rode the wave, unraveling the taut thread of his control. In the midst of it, his own dam broke. With pulses that made him shudder all the way to his toes, he shot his seed deep into her body.

With the last of the contractions, Niall collapsed onto his forearms. Beneath him, Aileen’s arms slipped limply to her sides. Niall smiled at her then brushed a kiss against her slightly parted lips. She lay relaxed and limp, like a rag doll. Fearing he would squash her, he rolled to the side and pulled her against his chest.

Every fiber in his being shouted that she was the one for him, the only one. Ever. The intensity of his reaction to her stunned him. How would he ever stop himself from eviscerating any man who dared to touch her? From murdering her future husband in cold blood?

“I won’t let you go,” he whispered, gathering her more tightly against him. Having her just this once had not sated him. Instead it made him ravenous for more.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

Niall claimed Aileen again in the dark hour before dawn. She awoke to his hands unhurriedly sliding down from her breast to between her legs. Instantly, she was wet for him. She kept her eyes closed, half in her dream but fully experiencing every sensation his fingers offered.

Niall’s lips brushed hers. “Mmm,” she murmured, opening her mouth to him but still not ready to be pulled completely from sleep. He kissed her deep and hard, a lure, a promise of the pleasure to come.

Then his cock nudged her entrance. Her arousal made the way easy, and with one strong thrust, he glided all the way in.

“Niall,” she whispered against his lips.

Niall pumped in and out of her slowly, leisurely, the exquisite friction of his steely cock against her sensitive inner walls making every pore in her body cry out with pleasure.

All of a sudden, a short, jolting orgasm erupted from her core. She gasped as it ripped through her, and she reached up to clasp her fingers behind his neck.

“Oh,” she whispered. She’d never felt more safe than with him inside her, holding her, possessing her.

She came fully awake as Niall found his release, groaning with every pulse of his hot seed into her womb. Afterward, he tucked her into his side and within a few moments had fallen back to sleep, his breathing slow and steady.

Aileen slipped away from the comfort of his arms and crept back to her chamber, where she lay awake until an anxious Jannet bustled in to prepare her for the journey to Ellandonan.

 

***

 

Gilbert bowed low before the laird and stayed down until the Mackenzie told him to rise. When he finally raised his head, he struggled to stay calm. Mackenzie looked as if he considered Gilbert’s presence a joke. His wide, meaty lips fairly twitched with mirth.

“Come to beg for my sister again, have you, Dunbar?”

“I have not. I come to you with a proposition.”

Mackenzie’s pale eyes lighted. “A proposition? I like propositions. Tell.”

“As you know, the vast majority of my lands lie in the lowlands.”

“Of course.” The laird rubbed his hands together like the greedy bastard he was. “I might consider trading Aileen for control of those holdings, plus all of hers, including Dornoch.”

The Mackenzie’s Highland minions snickered behind him.

Gilbert gritted his teeth. Stupid Highland barbarian. Though Gilbert’s blood was English and Lowland Scots, he’d learned to live with the Highlanders. He’d inherited a Highland castle and had made his way in this godforsaken place with more success than many of their own—they were too isolated and suspicious of anyone south of their border. That had always been and always would be to their detriment.

He twisted his lips into a false smile. “Of course I could not do that. But I have an even better proposition, I believe.”

With a tired sigh, Mackenzie shook his head, and Gilbert noticed for the first time that his hair had begun to turn gray. “What could you possibly offer me that you’d consider better than your lowland properties?”

Gilbert took a bold step forward. Instantly, the men sitting beside the Mackenzie rose, their hands on their swords. Gilbert pretended to ignore them. Instead, he smiled and leaned closer to Mackenzie. “Perhaps the key to the whole of the Lowlands.”

 

***

 

On the third day of their journey, Aileen watched Niall ride ahead of her, sedate on his horse, his posture straight. He never looked back.

Her melancholy grew as they neared Ellandonan. She and Niall were truly finished with each other. Her rational mind kept repeating the fact, and it knew that it was for the best that he acknowledged her only when politeness dictated he do so.

Still, looking at him made her body clench with need, while at the same time her heart broke knowing that need could never be fulfilled. When they reached Ellandonan, he’d likely be sent off on another errand in service of her brother, and she would learn the identity of her betrothed.

A soft mist began to fall, and Aileen shivered, wrapping her plaid more tightly around her. The thought of never seeing Niall again made her skin prickle and her body grow cold.

“Whoa!”

Jarred from her thoughts, Aileen looked up. Niall had halted just ahead of her and was talking to one of his men, who’d noticed her inattention. Her horse sidestepped and moved alongside Niall’s.

Stern-faced, he looked down at her and bowed his head formally. His behavior pricked at her heart, though she knew he did it to show his deference to her before his men.

“The next village is close, my lady. We’ll stop there,” Niall said in his low, melodious voice. “There is an inn.”

“Why? It is not yet near dark.”

Niall raised his eyes to the sky. “Rain is coming.”

Aileen sighed heavily. Niall nodded, and with a flick of his reins, moved ahead of her. This meant they wouldn’t get to Ellandonan until late tomorrow, perhaps even the day after, depending on how late they set off in the morning.

By the time they reached the village, the rain was coming down hard and Aileen was chilled and soaked through. She waited under the eaves, shivering, as Niall divested the inn of its present occupants to make room for their party. Jannet stood beside her. Clearly oblivious to her lady’s dread, the lass’s excitement had grown by leaps and bounds as they closed the distance to Ellandonan.

The innkeeper’s wife, a tall, bony woman, led them up to the largest chamber in the inn. Ducking beneath the low doorframe, the woman gestured them inside. The room was tiny by Aileen’s standards and reeked of body odor and stale smoke. Striding inside, she jerked open the little window and tried to fan some fresh air into the room.

“Will that be all, lady?” the innkeeper’s wife inquired in heavily accented Scots.

Aileen smiled. “That will be all for now. Thank you.”

The door shut behind the woman with a thud.

The afternoon was interminable. Aileen picked at her embroidery, casting frequent longing glances at the window, while Jannet fluttered about, too excited to accomplish anything sensible. She chattered on and on about Ellandonan Castle and how thrilling it would be to finally meet all her Mackenzie cousins again.

None of it would have been so bad if Aileen wasn’t filled with such immense yearning. Not to make love to Niall, though she would sacrifice almost anything for one more night with him, but the longing to be near him, beside him, talking to him.

The rain came down steadily, at times gusting into the little room. Jannet asked permission to close the window numerous times, but Aileen refused. For some illogical reason, she felt that if she closed the window, it would be severing her link—as insubstantial as it was—to Niall.

At times she had heard the sound of his voice above the rain. He was on the street below, working with his men. His voice might well be the only thing that kept her sane.

Finally, the innkeeper came up to deliver their dinner. After eating her fill of mutton, Jannet curled up on her pallet. The small space promptly began to resonate with her snores.

Aileen went to bed, but she tossed and turned on the lumpy heather-stuffed mattress, feeling boxed-in and restless. Finally, she rose quietly and padded to the window in bare feet, hoping to stick her head outside and breathe in some fresh air.

The clouds had cleared, leaving a blanket of glittering stars scattered across the night sky. But the window was so tiny, Aileen could not fit much more than her arm through it. She turned away. Tugging her plaid over her shoulders, she slipped on her shoes and went downstairs. The inn was quiet, but one of her Mackenzies stood at the main entrance, his arms crossed over his chest. He turned to her in surprise as she approached and raised a bushy red eyebrow at her.

“My lady, are you well?”

“Aye, Iain. I just needed some air.” She looked down the wide path, gutted with potholes, that marked the village’s main road. Moonlight drifted across the mud puddles, giving the street a surreal, storybook quality. “I believe I shall go for a walk.”

He bowed. “I’ll accompany you.”

She waved her hand. “That won’t be necessary. I want to be by myself. You stay here. There’s no danger hereabouts, is there?”

Iain’s thin lips pinched together. Aileen knew he didn’t approve of her walking alone, but he could do little to stop her short of physically restraining her. And her men were too loyal to do such a thing. “None that we know, lady.”

“I’ll not go far. I just need to breathe some clean air for a few minutes.” She smiled up at him and patted her thigh. “In any case, Iain, there is no reason to worry. After all, I’d never leave Dornoch without my dirk.”

He gave a low laugh. Like all of her men, he’d seen her skill with the dagger firsthand and knew she had hidden sheaths sewn into all her clothing. When Walter was not in residence at the castle, she’d often practiced with her men. They all looked upon her skill with pride, for they’d all had a hand in developing it.

Glancing down at the fold of her plaid where she’d had the hidden sheath sewn, he grinned. “Aye, lady.”

Aileen stepped out onto the street. The clucking noises of a hen came from nearby, and Aileen saw it walking dazedly from behind the nearest cottage. “What are you doing up at this hour? You should be asleep,” she whispered at it sternly.

The hen cocked its head at her, gazed at her for a moment with beady little eyes, then turned and tottered away.

Aileen walked down the muddy road, sidestepping potholes. Scattered thatched stone cottages lined the street, all dark and silent in the dead of the night. A granite cathedral, by far the most beautiful building in this village, stood at the street’s end. She’d walk to the cathedral and back. Afterward, she might be able to sleep.

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