The Highlander’s Bride Trouble Page 7

  But a queer sort of compliance was taking hold of her, a rationale that made it acceptable, because he was also bare. In that moment, they were simply the same, neither more exposed than the other. Both of them being more honest than they might be otherwise.

  “Ye are making yer way, in whatever fashion ye might.” He smoothed the soap over her shoulders with slow motions. “Doing the best ye can for yerself. That is nae an excuse, it is being resourceful.”

  She grunted softly. “Be careful, ye’ll have the Church after ye for nae telling me to accept me place as a woman.”

  “I prefer ye being strong enough to face me without shivering.” He was rubbing the soap into her hair. “The place for me woman is standing firmly at me side.”

  She heard a soft sound of male approval from behind her.

  “I am nae conceding anything to ye, Laird MacLeod.”

  He snorted. “Insist on laying the sharp side of yer tongue on me, lass, and ye’ll have to forfeit the rest of yer bath.”

  She whipped around, the water splashing up into her face. “Do nae instruct me, Laird—”

  The bar of soap went flying toward the shore, and he had his hand curled around her nape before she heard it land.

  “Saer.”

  His teeth were bared at her, and his face was only a few inches from her own. The warmth of his breath against her lips made them tremble and yearn for another kiss.

  “If I want to let me title impress a lass, I do nae have to suffer sitting inside the Earl of Ross’s castle.”

  “Well, do nae do so for me.” She shoved at him but ended up with her hands flattened against his hard chest.

  He was going to kiss her.

  But he didn’t.

  She pushed against him again, but he didn’t give even a tiny amount of space. Instead, he held her nape, keeping her in place as their gazes held.

  “What do ye want?” she demanded, unable to remain silent. It felt like she was coming apart inside.

  “I want to know why I am drawn to ye.” His fingers gently massaged her nape, sending a tingle down her spine. He moved closer, so close she felt his body heat through the water. “I see yer face in me dreams.”

  But she couldn’t admit it. She shook her head, fighting against his grip until he tightened it.

  “Do nae lie.” He bit out the three words. “Insult me. Slice me with yer words, but never lie.”

  She lifted her chin, trying to break his hold on her neck. With a soft snort, he let her go. She dove into the water, swimming away, escaping. But her lungs burned, and she had to surface at last. When she did, Saer was nowhere, the surface of the water giving her no hint as to where he was.

  He surged up from beneath the surface of the water beside her. For a moment, she was stunned by the sight of his powerful body erupting from the water like some sort of pagan god of centuries past. He shook his head, water flying off the ends of his hair before he opened his eyes and looked at her.

  “I’m going to teach ye how to enjoy yer own body…”

  His warning hadn’t even sunk completely into her senses when he reached for her. Saer proved his strength again as he plucked her from the water and tossed her over his shoulder. Water streamed off both their bodies as he walked up to where they had left their clothing. He grabbed his kilt and shook it out with one hand. The fabric fluttered to the ground, the edges still rippling as he laid her out on it.

  “What ye are doing is proving ye are no different than any other man I have ever met.”

  He followed her down but didn’t trap her beneath his body. She felt no less pinned though, for he settled beside her, his elbow on the ground and his head resting in his hand. He laid his leg over hers, keeping her on her back.

  A soft moan escaped her, as she bit into her lower lip to keep herself from voicing how exposed she felt. She would never let him hear her cry.

  “I will nae rape ye, Nareen, I promised ye that already.”

  He had, and that strange sense of complacency moved through her. She refused to consider it trust, because she would never trust any man.

  “I wish to rise.”

  He stroked the side of her face, his fingers delightfully warm. “Say me name.”

  Her eyes widened, and she struck out and slapped him before being able to control the impulse. That made no sense; an open hand would do little harm. So she tightened her fingers into a fist, but he closed his hand around it.

  “I prefer yer feminine claws, nae the skills ye learned from watching yer brother train.”

  She tried to break his hold, her heart pounding with the effort. “He did more than let me watch.”

  She’d meant it as a warning, a secret about herself that would prove she lacked a submissive nature, but Saer responded with a deep, husky growl of approval.

  “I wondered at the reason ye are so bold, lass.”

  “Well do nae,” she said. “Because I do nae want ye thinking about me at all.”

  “Humm…” He released her hand, and she jerked it away, but her triumph was short-lived. A moment later, his attention had dropped to her bare breasts as he cupped one gently.

  “That leaves me naught but action…” He held the tender mound with a gentle grip that sent a shaft of pleasure through her. “Yet I will confess to enjoying action far more than talking. Ye are more beautiful than a fae princess…”

  He stroked her breast, running his fingers all the way around it before brushing the puckered nipple with his thumb. She jerked, unable to remain still as sensation overwhelmed her. Never once had she imagined her breast might be so sensitive or such a point of pleasure.

  “Saer—”

  “Ah… I enjoy it when me name crosses yer lips.” He closed his hand around her breast, holding her gaze. “I believe I understand the means necessary to claim what I want from ye now, Nareen.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. She felt it as much as saw it. He lowered his head, his warm breath teasing the tip of her nipple a single time before he lapped the hardened peak with his tongue.

  “Saer!”

  She arched in a crazy need to move, because she couldn’t remain still. It felt like lightening had struck her.

  “Even better…” he purred deeply—darkly.

  He leaned over her, trapping her right shoulder with his own, and licked her nipple again. This time, he teased the entire areola with his velvet tongue before closing his lips around the puckered tip and sucking it into his mouth.

  She grabbed a fistful of his hair, but that pleased her too, and she moaned softly as her eyes slid closed. She didn’t need to see. The contact between their bodies was unleashing a torrent of pleasure that washed over her, and she didn’t care to fight it.

  He sucked harder, and she arched up to offer her flesh to him. But it wasn’t enough; she wasn’t close enough to him. The need to press herself against him was too great to ignore. She rolled toward him.

  “Slowly, lass…”

  He released her breast and stroked her belly. Her eyes opened wide at the boldness of the touch.

  “No one—”

  He silenced her with a soft kiss.

  “That is the only reason yer cousin is still alive.” He rubbed the flat plane of her abdomen, sending a hundred little bolts of enjoyment through her. But his expression had hardened. “If she’d allowed ye to be used without yer consent, I would have hung her before coming after ye.”

  His tone was rich with protectiveness, and it washed over her, soothing the wounds she thought would never be comforted.

  “Do ye mean ye would have accepted me without me virtue?” She scoffed at him softly. “I doubt it. Men enjoy dallying, but demand purity in their brides.”

  “I value strength in a woman, and such will never be found in one who does nae admit h
er own nature. If ye’d had a lover, I would have made sure I surpassed his memory.”

  He teased her belly again with a warm brush of his hand. He leaned down and placed a kiss against her chin, and then another farther up her jawline, and yet a third just below her earlobe. She trembled, the tenderness of his touch undeniable. He had the strength to take whatever he wished, yet he controlled it. That was true honor.

  “Ye captivate me, Nareen,” he whispered against her ear, then inhaled the scent of her hair. “And I know ye are fascinated by me.”

  “I’ve said no such thing.” Yet she had felt it.

  He lifted his head and flattened his hand on her belly. “Yet ye lay here with me, without flinching. Why? Ye are no wanton. If ye were, ye would have found plenty of lovers to satisfy ye at court.”

  Her lips twisted with distaste, drawing a pleased growl from him.

  “I saw that in yer eyes at court”—he captured her breast again, the hold striking her as possessive—“and it made me want to impress ye.”

  “I do nae—”

  “Aye, ye do, lass.” He pressed a hard kiss against her lips, stilling her argument with his mouth. It was demanding, and it stirred the flames he unleashed inside her.

  She reached for him, seeking to touch what she’d been drawn to. His arms were covered in smooth, warm skin, but the muscle was firm and hard. She stroked him, up toward his shoulders and along the planes of his chest.

  “Open yer mouth, Nareen…”

  He cupped her nape, raising her face toward his. She slid her hands into his hair again, gripping handfuls of it to keep his mouth against hers. The need to kiss him was strong, overriding every other thought. There was only impulse and action left in her.

  He swept her lower lip with his tongue, setting off a riot of excitement. She stretched her tongue out to mingle with his. For a moment, they stroked each other before he boldly thrust his deep inside her mouth.

  She gasped, stunned and excited by the invasion. Her body arched, pressing against his. It was necessary to move, absolutely vital for her to strain toward him. His body pleased her along every point of contact. Even where her thigh pressed against his hard member.

  She wanted to take his weight on top of her, even pulled at his shoulder, but he kept her on her back with one large hand pressed flat on top of her belly.

  “I’m going to introduce ye to passion, lass.”

  There was a promise in his tone, an arrogant one, but it struck a chord inside her that unleashed a surge of anticipation.

  He sent his hand lower, venturing into the curls that crowned her sex.

  “Saer—”

  “I made ye a promise, Nareen.”

  His fingers slid closer to the little nub throbbing at the top of her sex, and her lips went dry. “What…what was that?”

  “To teach ye how to enjoy yer body…”

  He pressed his lips against the side of her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut.

  But she jerked when he stroked her slit.

  “Ye cannae…touch me…there,” she exclaimed, her eyes popping open.

  “I am,” he assured her and sent his fingers back along the folds guarding her passage. “And I intend to do much, much more.”

  “But it must be…sinful.”

  But it felt delightful, and she closed her eyes again. True ecstasy rolled through her as he stroked the sensitive folds between her thighs. The skin was slick with her juices, intensifying even the slightest touch.

  “There was a time when a warrior had to prove his worth to a woman by bringing her to climax without his cock. Only then would she pledge herself to him.”

  She opened her eyes and found him watching her face. She felt exposed and helpless. “I cannae do this…”

  “All ye must do is trust me.”

  Trust. The word “trust” broke through the intoxication holding her spellbound.

  “No. I refuse to trust.” She felt empty as she faced the harsh, cold reality of her feelings. “I cannae trust.”

  His expression tightened. “Ye will, Nareen. Ye shall trust me.”

  He crushed her retort beneath a kiss. His mouth took command of her lips, pressing them apart. When she surrendered, he thrust his tongue deeply inside her mouth and sent his finger between the folds of her sex.

  Together, the twin points of contact were mind shattering.

  Her hips lifted toward his hand, her clitoris sending an intense amount of pleasure through her passage and into her womb. She gasped, breaking their kiss because her lungs were starving for breath. Her heart was pounding, and so was the little nub between the folds of her sex.

  Saer rubbed it, sending her hips into a frantic bucking that she had no will to check. There was only the need churning inside her and the delight his finger produced with every stroke. She held on to him with a desperate grip as her need tightened into a knot. When it broke, pleasure swept over her in a rush, stealing every last thought from her mind as she cried out. It twisted through her, wringing her like a rag and dropping her in a panting, spent heap beneath Saer’s probing gaze. His dark eyes were full of savage hunger. He did nothing to disguise it, and for several long moments, she was too exhausted to move.

  In that moment, she was helpless.

  But what made it intolerable was the fact that she had allowed him to reduce her to such a state. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow herself to be so exposed.

  “I will never trust ye.”

  He growled at her, but she pushed against him.

  “Ye just did, Nareen.” His teeth were bared, and his cock hard against her belly. “There is no denying that ye enjoyed it, too. Pleasure awaits ye in me bed.”

  He pushed himself up and off her. The night air rushed in to steal the heat his body had shared with her. He reached down and grasped her biceps, easily pulling her to her feet.

  “But ye’ll never truly trust me if I take ye tonight. Allowing me to touch ye was but a beginning.”

  He found her chemise and tossed it to her. He truly was at home in the dark, because she hadn’t been able to differentiate between her garments. Saer found what she needed first before pulling his shirt off a rock and shrugging into it.

  Her fingers shook, but it wasn’t from the chill. It took her three tries to get her hands pushed into the sleeves of the garment. When it slid into place, she found Saer watching her. His shirt did little to disguise the hunger that was pulsing through him.

  It was tormenting her as well. Twisting and clawing at her insides like a living force with its own will. She craved something more, something deeper, and she was old enough to know it was his cock deep inside her.

  “I cannae be…give ye what ye want…” She was stammering, her emotions a breath away from boiling over. “Ye should seek another.”

  “It is ye I crave.”

  His tone was firm and full of promise. She shook her head, but he only tossed her skirt to her before he turned and pulled his kilt from the ground and started pleating it on the top of a rock. She busied herself with putting her skirt on and kept her gaze away from his.

  He was so confident, it grated on her nerves. To his way of thinking, it was all decided, but it couldn’t be. She had to make it clear to him.

  “I refuse any arrangement with ye, Laird MacLeod.”

  She heard a soft crunch of gravel before he cupped her chin and raised her face.

  “Yer brother has already agreed to me suit,” he admitted.

  “Then why toy with me this way? To torment me with how little choice I have?”

  He shook his head, the moonlight illuminating a frown. “I came to prove me worth to ye. Once we are on MacLeod land, I will nae be able to allow ye so much freedom. I have demands on me time, and they are numerous.”

  The breath froze in her
chest. It was far more than he had to give her, yet it was everything she’d feared. “I am nae going to MacLeod land.”

  She jerked away from him, hurrying over to grab her bodice and put it on. But she felt his gaze on her and couldn’t hide from the truth that she was acting the coward. Even if it was his pride talking, there was a sense of honor in him she could not dismiss.

  “I belong to meself.” She steadied herself and looked back at him. “Ye’ve proven me flesh is weak, but me will is strong. I will nae trust any man. Such is a weakness, and I’ve found me salvation in strength.” Her voice was close to pleading. “Ye need to understand, Saer, I know me nature and would nae have ye disappointed.”

  His lips parted to show his teeth. She wouldn’t call it a grin, because the expression was far more primal. She felt it down to her toes.

  “Which is what makes ye such a prize, Nareen. One I plan to claim. Our sons will have that strength in them, and I will never have to worry that ye fear me. I want no unproven lass birthing me babes. Ye’ll give them yer spirit and raise them to face what life brings without flinching.” He offered her his hand. “Come home with me…let us see what else we have in common…trust takes time to grow, give it a chance.”

  It was tempting.

  Her body yearned for it, craved his in a way she could not understand. But the look in his eyes made her deny it. He was so certain of his effect on her. So sure of his ability to give her what she needed.

  She couldn’t admit how correct he was. It was submission. Admission of defeat. She would not do it.

  Ever.

  “I am going back to the castle.”

  He grunted. “To Abigail?”

  She nodded, defeated by her own doubts.

  “Why?” he demanded.

  She drew in a long, deep breath and tasted bitter defeat. What lay between them were her own failings. “Because I will nae submit to yer will, Saer.”

  He folded his arms over his chest and contemplated her. He finally made a noise that was part frustration, part admiration. “I never thought I’d be pleased to hear ye sticking to yer position, yet I find the idea of submission from ye distasteful.”