A Highland Werewolf Wedding (17 page)

Right now, they were in a race to reach the finish line, only they were both slamming
on the brakes because reaching that line meant a mating for life.

She kissed his mouth lightly, just a very sweet, innocent peck on the lips, but she
knew he wasn’t satisfied with that. Not that she was, either. He smiled just a hint,
watching her expression, waiting for her to do more than just give him such a barely
there kiss, waiting for her to take this up another notch. He was not pressuring her
too much—not kissing her back, not encouraging her—as if he knew that once he got
started kissing, they’d end up in bed together.

For one rare moment, she wanted to toss away her cautious behavior. She’d already
made up her mind that she needed and wanted him. She wrapped her arms around his neck
and kissed him, not sweetly or innocently, but like she was a she-wolf starved for
affection, and he was the male she had chosen for her mate.

Because he was. For the first time ever, despite having thought she’d found her mate
several times over, only to have them vanish before a mating could occur, she knew
that Cearnach would always be there for her. That she felt something deeper, more
primal for him than she’d ever felt for any other wolf. Cearnach was hers.

Cearnach growled in response, sampling her mouth, tasting, smiling as she nipped his
lips, loving that she’d finally made the decision to take this further. Cearnach had
realized when Elaine screamed in the shower that his ghostly cousin was attempting
to get Elaine and him together.
Again.

At first, he hadn’t been certain. This time, he was. Her towel was slipping, her eyes
closed as he pressed his tongue between her lips, enjoying the way she slid her tongue
over his in a mating dance. He was ready to explode, listening to her heart beating
so fast, smelling her lavender and she-wolf fragrance, recognized that as delicious
as she smelled, she was already wet for him.

Instead of removing their towels, he slid his hand between the opening of hers, found
her soft, moist feminine folds and began to caress. Her low moan against his mouth
turned him on all the more. He dipped his fingers deep inside of her and felt how
wet and receptive she was for him. She dug her fingers into his arms, holding on for
dear life so she wouldn’t collapse.

She panted and softly groaned, pressing herself against his questing fingers. She
was like a flower blossoming to his touch. Except for the growls. Those were wolfishly
endearing.

He wanted to carry her to the bed, yet he was afraid that if he did, he’d want to
take this so much further than she might be ready for.

Instead, he listened to the way her breathing hitched, felt the way she moved against
his fingers, arching her pelvis, and sensed she was near the peak of climax when it
hit her. He loved the way she buried her mouth against his throat, trying to stifle
the rough cry of his name as she came.

“Oh, yes,” she groaned, then reached down to touch him.

He kissed the top of her head and withdrew his fingers. “Let’s get something to eat.
Downstairs,” he clarified, not wanting to push this to a conclusion before she was
willing.

Her eyes were glazed as she yanked off his towel, her voice dark and commanding. “Your
bed or mine? We finish this, Cearnach.” She smiled a little, her expression determined,
yet playful.

“Finish,” he said, his hands caressing her shoulders, so soft and silky, as he studied
her gaze.

She wrapped her arms around his waist in a loving embrace and placed her head against
his chest. She said in whispered words, “You should never have let me get away the
first time.”

“Oh, aye, lass. Of that I am well aware. I can’t tell you how much I regretted losing
you the first time.” He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. “You don’t feel
pressured, do you? Either by my mother or Flynn? Or… by me?”

She gave a little laugh. “Hardly.” Then her expression changed to something more serious,
her brow slightly furrowed. “I don’t want you to get away from me, either. Every time
I declare I want to mate with a wolf, he agrees, but before we consummate the relationship,
he disappears.”

“You’re mine, Elaine, and I’m not going anywhere.” He lifted her towel-clad body into
his arms and kissed her forehead as she sighed, then carried her to the guest bed,
though he wanted to claim her on his own mattress.

Something felt off for Cearnach about mating with her here in the guest chamber. Like
she was still just a guest, when he wanted her in his room, his bed, his.

But he didn’t want to carry her across the hall to his chamber and risk running into
anyone, either. He reminded himself he’d mate with her there later, many times over,
to make it right.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Elaine asked as she observed him. “You’re not having
second thoughts, are you?”

He heard the pain in her words, that maybe she believed he was already thinking of
abandoning the idea and didn’t want to prolong the inevitable.

He smiled and was sure that he looked as wolfishly predatory as he felt. “We’re not
delaying this.” He peeled off her towel and tossed it to the floor. Then he slowly
climbed over her, deliberately rubbing his chest and arousal and legs over her soft,
bare skin, leaving his scent on her, claiming her in a not-so-subtle wolf way.

She knew exactly what he was doing, and her smile showed just what it meant to her
as he lay next to her on his side. His gaze locked on hers as his fingers teased one
of her rigid nipples, circling it and touching it. She lifted her fingers to caress
his chest.

His skin sizzled everywhere she trailed her fingers, making his erection jump with
need.

Unable to enjoy just the feel and look of her sweet body, he leaned in to kiss her,
showing her every ounce of passion he possessed—the primal need and craving to make
her his mate before one more male looked at her as though she was available.

He pressed his tongue into her mouth, leaning his body against hers, parting her legs
with one knee, and straddling her, his arousal thick and rigid. He wanted more than
anything to lay claim to her. Now. Forever.

He slid his fingers into her soft, wet heat, feeling the warm slickness from her climax.
She moaned, bucking against him, her body arching as if she was pushing him to finish
this.

His blood ran hot as every muscle flexed with need. His mouth caressed her collarbone.
She shivered as he touched her, explored her, and enjoyed her soft skin, her exquisite
fragrance tantalizing him.

His mouth captured hers. Their tongues twisted and danced together as if mating of
their own accord. He ran his fingers through her hair, gripping the silky, damp locks.
Liquid fire rushed through his veins, his cock straining against her thigh, his body
rubbing against the muscle, her hips rising, forcing him to press harder against her.

He inserted two fingers into her tight sheath. Tight like a virgin, he thought to
himself. She would have had encounters with human males, and of course she was mated
to that slug of a bastard centuries ago, but when was the last time she’d been with
a man? She felt too tight for it to have been recently. He was glad to know it. She
was his. No one else’s.

He licked her taut nipple, taking it in his mouth, tugging gently with his lips. She
moaned and cupped his head against her breast, writhing beneath him, her pelvis lifting
against his throbbing erection. He kissed her across her breast, the valley between,
and her right breast until he reached the other nipple, pushing her thighs open for
him before pressing his erection against her hot, wet core. Not entering yet. Teasing.
Wanting her to come when he did.

“Oh, Cearnach,” she moaned, as he slid two fingers into her again, then pushed as
deep as he could go.

She spread her legs farther apart for him, and he declared against her mouth in Gaelic,
“You are mine.”

“As you are mine,” she whispered back.

He lifted his head and stared at her. Had she known Gaelic all along? Had she known
what Vardon had called her?

Swearing in Gaelic, Cearnach gazed into her molten eyes. She lifted her hands and
pulled his face back to hers, kissing him thoroughly, their tongues dueling as if
in a medieval fight, making him forget all else but her.

It was time. Time to make her his. He pushed the broad head of his penis into her,
slowly at first until he was fully inside her. Thrusting carefully, he pushed deeper,
mating with her, their hearts beating so loudly that he barely could hear anything
else.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes.”

This was what he’d wanted from the moment he’d seen her: him wrapped around her soft
curves, Elaine’s wet heat wrapped around him in the ultimate joining.

He swept his tongue across her parted lips, thrusting his cock deep inside her tight
heat and feeling as though he was the first man in centuries to explore her core.

Her sheath softened for him, allowing him to thrust deeper as the raw craving within
him grew.

She was beautiful, her face flushed, her breathing fast, her body moving against him
like a siren encouraging his every move.

Her chocolate eyes were smoky with lust, her fingertips touching his muscles, his
skin, leaving a trail of heat.

She slid her legs around his hips and dug her heels into his ass, her breathing suspended
as he sensed she was ready to explode. He groaned out loud, unable to hold back any
longer. He felt the end coming, tried to hold on, felt her muscles contracting around
him. Then he let loose, rocketed with the orgasm, and felt her body shuddering with
ripples of climax. He loved the wolf beneath him, the sexy, loving woman who would
share his world until the end of his days.

He groaned and settled on top of her, still sheathed in her wet, slick heat, wanting
to remain joined like this for hours. With her. Together. As one.

For a long time, they stayed like that, breathing deeply of each other, listening
to their hearts beating in unison, feeling the warmth of their bodies pressed together,
sharing the knowledge that they were joined as wolf mates for life.

He hadn’t realized they’d fallen asleep until he woke to find Elaine cuddled in his
arms, the bed curtains still open, and the day growing later. The world outside the
keep was full of activity as he heard the clanging of swords in practice sword-fighting,
horses clip-clopping on the stone pavers as they were being taken out for exercise,
the barks of their Irish wolfhounds and Duncan’s mate’s standard poodles as they raced
around the inner bailey, the shouts of his people as they called out to each other.

“Elaine,” he said softly, wanting to hold on to this moment forever but knowing they
had to get up and face the day. Which meant facing his clan, his pack, his family
and letting them all know they had a new she-wolf as part of the family.

“Hmm,” she said, her voice dreamy. She tightened her hold around his waist, her eyes
still closed, her lashes fanning her cheeks.

He ran his hand over her bare arm, caressing and loving the way she felt—warm and
silky soft. “You know Gaelic,” he said.

“My parents taught me the old ways.”

He hated that she’d known what that bastard had called her. He kissed her cheek. “I’m
sorry for what Vardon had said.”

“He was trying to make himself feel better for striking me. He didn’t mean it.”

Cearnach looked at Elaine in wonder. “You are a treasure. I’ll return to my chamber
and get dressed while you slip into your clothes.”

She raised her head and looked at him, her expression a little skeptical. “What if
your ghostly cousin returns?”

Not having considered such a thing, he frowned at her. “He better not.” His voice
was dark with threat. Then he took a deep breath and rethought his cousin’s interference.
“I’m pretty certain now that Flynn got his way, he will leave you alone. At least
he better.”

Elaine sighed, hoping Cearnach was right. She rolled over onto her back and surveyed
the rest of the chamber—the richly woven Turkish tapestries hanging on the walls,
the thick bottle glass covering narrow arrow-slit windows. Antique oil paintings of
lochs, heather-covered hills, snowcapped mountains, and bubbling streams hung from
some of the walls.

One painting stood out from all the rest. A red-blond, long-haired Highland cow stared
at her with warm brown eyes half hidden under bangs that nearly reached the tip of
its nose.

“That is a painting of the first cow we ever stole from our neighbors,” Cearnach remarked
as he caressed her shoulder, his voice hinting of self-righteous satisfaction.

She turned and frowned at him, surprised to hear that his own clan was not above reproach
when she had worried what he thought of her family and their pirating past. “Your
kin stole from others?”

“’Tis an Old World tradition, lass. They stole one of our kin’s brides before she
reached the kirk. We stole a cow in retaliation. Well, six, but who’s counting?”

Surprised that they’d be satisfied with cows in the lady’s place, she frowned. She
would have envisioned a fierce battle between the clans lasting for days instead.
“Wasn’t the lady worth more than the cows?” Where was the romance in that?

His mouth curved up a fraction more, his dark eyes alight with humor. “She orchestrated
the whole charade. The man she wanted to mate couldn’t make up his mind and hadn’t
believed she’d marry someone else. When she agreed to marry one of my kin, the Highlander
finally took her seriously. And rescued her, or so he believed. In truth, she’d arranged
the whole affair through one mishap or another so that she never make it to the kirk.
At least she hadn’t wanted bloodshed between the clans.”

“Your kinsman must have felt awful to lose his bride before she even arrived at the
altar. He must have been heartbroken.”

“Once he learned of her deception and we were able to convince him that she was not
worth any bloodshed, he was all too willing to go on a raid, steal the cows, and forgo
the lass. Within a fortnight, he had found a new bonnie lassie to wed.”

“Wow, that was fast.”

“The first lassie had not been the right woman for him. When he found the right one,
he realized what a mistake he could have made with the other. The one he married had
been living within our castle walls, her father the blacksmith, and not until that
day had he ever taken notice of her.”

“I’m glad he found the right woman, then. Did the other clan retaliate for your stealing
the cows?”

“Aye. They said if we’d taken one, that would have been enough.”

Elaine laughed. “What did the woman think of that?”

“She was not happy with her husband. She made him sleep with the other men for several
days, we’d heard. We always wondered if he regretted rescuing her from our clansman.”

Elaine smiled, then realized perhaps the MacNeill clan was not above stealing like
she’d thought they were—and her kin weren’t so bad after all. He might believe differently.
Yet her uncles had felt justified in what they had done, hired to do the pirating
as privateers. So anyone could justify anything, truly. Not that
she
agreed with any of it.

“You said last night your clan gave you grief over some other woman,” Elaine asked.

“Calla.”

Elaine took a deep breath, not wanting to hear that he had feelings for Calla that
he couldn’t admit to. “She’s just a friend, you said.”

“Aye. Most of the wolves in my pack didn’t believe it. They thought we had to be more
than friends. When she told me she was mating with Baird McKinley, many of my family
members believed I’d fight him for the right to have her as my own mate. Calla is
more like a sister to me, like Heather, my cousin, is.”

“Just a friend.” She realized that he truly meant it.

She considered staying here in the guest chamber and dressing, then frowned and dismissed
that notion. “I don’t trust your ghostly cousin.” She pulled away from Cearnach, got
off the bed, grabbed her towel, and wrapped it around her. Then she bundled up some
clothes. “I’ll go to your room with you while you get dressed.”

“You sure you don’t want to dress here first?” He climbed off the bed and joined her.

She shook her head. “No. We need to get down to the kitchen and have breakfast before
everyone assumes the worst.”

He smiled at her words, wound his hands in her hair, and kissed her hard. She melted
against him. He loved that his kisses and touches turned her into melted wax.

“They’ll know the truth before long. But this works for me.” He kissed her cheek,
pulled away, then stalked into the bathroom. Once he snagged his towel off the floor,
he secured it around his waist. He returned to her and clasped her hand in his and
led her to the door.

As soon as he opened the guest chamber door, Cearnach saw his mother and aunt coming
down the hall as quietly as they could, when they would usually be talking their heads
off. They had to have been attempting to eavesdrop, trying to learn what he and Elaine
were up to. For Elaine’s sake, he hesitated to leave the room.

To his surprise and delight, Elaine didn’t stop. She hauled Cearnach across the hall
to his room and gave both his aunt and mother a bright smile. “Good morning.”

His bedroom door was still open from when he’d thrown it aside to save Elaine in the
shower. He nodded to his mother and aunt, not about to say a word, moved Elaine into
his room, and shut the door.

“Omigod, could that have been any more embarrassing?” Elaine whispered as she slipped
a pair of jeans on under her towel, her cheeks crimson. “After they saw us both wearing
only towels in my guest room, there was no way to rectify the situation.”

Since she was an alpha, Elaine had reacted in a way that he should have expected:
in his mother’s face with a “get used to it” attitude.

He was much more the diplomat, trying to smooth situations over that had gotten a
wee bit out of hand. Not Elaine. He loved her for it.

“Think nothing of it, lass,” he said, not about to mention that his mother and aunt
had to have heard what sounded like his mating with Elaine.

With wry amusement, he was surprised to see Elaine so shy with him now, or perhaps
she was afraid someone would come knocking at the door and confront him about what
had just occurred.