A Highland Werewolf Wedding (24 page)

BOOK: A Highland Werewolf Wedding
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He nuzzled her face, kissed her throat, and licked it, sending a new wave of heat
coursing through every blood vessel. The pleasure was so intense that she felt her
sex wet and prepared for him.

He brushed his lips across her throat, then lower, licking a trail down between her
breasts all the way to her navel, his fingers working feverishly to unfasten her pants.
He unzipped her jeans, then plunged his hand inside between her legs, feeling her
wetness, his fingers entering her, cupping her, demanding.

She was on fire, the sensation of his touch, determination, and urgency sending her
up in flames. Waves of orgasm struck as if the sun had just warmed the room, the bed,
and her, even though it was dark out, cold and gloomy.

His jeans and hers were on the floor before she realized just how fast he could move.

He climbed on top of her, pressing her thighs apart. He pushed his cock slowly into
the center of her being, deepening the drive, not in a hurry, although he looked as
though it was killing him to hold back. His mouth sought hers and she took him in,
his tongue slipping inside, deep and penetrating.

She wanted him to make love to her as fast and furiously as he was able. She tightened
around him—her sheath, her body, her legs, her arms, her lips around his tongue—holding
the powerful wolf in her grasp. He was hers. Every glorious, muscled bit of him. And
she loved him.

Feral need demanded action as Cearnach slid deeply into his mate, his love, her erotic
scent assaulting his senses and making him plunge deeper, faster. He wanted to go
slower, but the way she was digging her heels into his arse and her nails were gliding
down his back, the way she clenched his cock and rocked upward to meet his thrusts,
he couldn’t hold on. Then she sucked on his tongue and he nearly lost it.

He’d wanted her ever since he’d made love to her in the kennel. Wanted to taste her
and feel her clenching him in the most pleasurable way, to hold her close like a mate
would, to love her.

She was the only one for him. The girl from so long ago. The woman now cradling him
between her legs. He thrust his aching arousal into her, her pulse and his rapidly
beating in unison, the tiny waves of pleasure wracking her body and feeding his own
need to make her come again.

Pulling his mouth free from hers, he nuzzled her face, then licked her jaw. He clutched
her hips as he pumped into her, her body grinding against his, the blood pooling in
his groin, the climax so close that he barely breathed.

Then he came, explosively, deep inside her, bathing her in his seed.

He thought briefly about the puppy Elaine wanted from Sheba’s litter and how soon
she’d have her own werewolf litter to love, too. He’d make sure of it in the most
pleasurable of ways.

***

In the middle of the night, Elaine woke with Cearnach’s body wrapped soundly around
hers. She heard the muffled sound of the dogs barking in the kennel, alerting of trespassers
or something. She couldn’t sleep until she discovered what the matter was.

She untangled herself from Cearnach, pulled aside the curtains, and left the bed.
After crossing the floor, she opened the window to look out. The air was cold and
damp, and she shivered.

That’s when she heard wolves howling farther away in the woods surrounding the castle.
Were they some of Cearnach’s people? Running as wolves in the woods tonight?

Or were they some of
her
kin? Why, if they were McKinleys or Kilpatricks, would they be prowling the woods
here?

She returned to Cearnach’s side of the bed and said softly to wake him, “Cearnach.”

He didn’t stir. She walked back over to the window and saw men on the wall walk looking
in the direction of the forest. She couldn’t sleep anyway, so she might as well find
out what was going on. She quickly yanked on her sweater, jeans, and boots, then left
the bedchamber, half expecting others from the keep to also be headed outside to learn
what the matter was. Unless the wolves were just the MacNeills—then no one would be
paying any attention to them.

She considered that she might look foolish, worrying about something she had no need
to be concerned about, but she was checking the matter out just the same.

Chapter 23

Wolves still howled in the woods beyond the walls of Argent Castle, calling to Elaine
as she left the warmth of the keep and headed for the gates in the frigid weather.
Gray clouds blocked any sign of stars clinging to the heavens tonight. She realized
she should have borrowed Heather’s coat again.

She also realized she couldn’t see anything beyond the walls surrounding the inner
bailey, which was the point of being protected by massive walls of stone. The heavy
oak gates were closed for the night so the only way she would see what was going on
outside the castle would be to climb to the top of the castle wall. She imagined that
the stairs to the wall walk were encased in the two towers flanking the gate.

Brass lanterns lighted some areas—the doorway to the kennels, to the horses’ stalls,
and to the castle. Since only
lupus
garous
lived here, they could see well enough in the dark.

Six men were watching the forest from the top of the wall walks, four on one side
of the gate, two on the other. She didn’t recognize any of them and hoped they wouldn’t
mind her joining them up there.

She hurried across the courtyard, and when she reached the doorway to one of the gate
towers, she yanked at the door handle, half expecting it to be locked. It wasn’t and
the door squeaked open, alerting anyone above that she was on her way to join them.

When she reached the wall walk, the four men were looking in her direction, not at
the woods.

“Lass,” the one said, his eyes wide, appearing startled to see her there. “Does Cearnach
know ye are here?”

She shook her head. “He’s still asleep. I couldn’t wake him.”

“I’m his cousin, Oran,” the man said. He was smiling with boyish charm, yet he was
all muscle and braw warrior and tall like the rest of his kin. He was one of Heather’s
brothers. “Ye just didn’t give him the right incentive to wake.”

Her face blossomed with heat, and she quickly walked over to the wall and peered out
at the woods. “Whose wolves are howling? Yours?”

“Nay, lass. Yours.”

The only reason they were interested in her being family was because of the stolen
goods. Maybe… her properties as well. She saw eyes glowing in the woods. Wolves’ eyes.
They stopped howling, watching her as she observed them. They obviously knew who she
was. Was Robert Kilpatrick among them? The brute Vardon McKinley?

“Why are they here?” she asked.

Oran pointed to the private drive.

She glanced to the left and saw a car sitting some distance from the closed gate on
the gravel drive. Lanterns at the castle entryway cast light that shimmered off the
wet silver metal. Heart thumping erratically, she paused for a fraction of a minute,
so stupefied to see the car sitting there that she didn’t recognize it as hers. When
realization dawned, she whipped around and headed for the stairs in the tower.

She couldn’t be more excited. She was certain the battle between the clans would be
averted with just that one gesture of appeasement.

“Wait, lass,” Oran commanded, hurrying after her. “Where are you going?”

“To get my car. All my belongings. I have to make sure it’s all there.”

“We can’t open the gates,” Oran said, as he followed her down the stairs while the
other men remained watchful on top of the wall walk. “No’ until they’re opened come
morn.”

Ignoring him, she finally reached the gates and stood there staring at them as if
they’d just magically open. She turned to scowl at Oran. “I want my rental car and
my belongings. They’ve left it here as I asked, as they should have. They probably
figured I wouldn’t talk with Robert until he met my demands.”

“Perhaps.” Oran folded his arms across his broad chest, his brow lifting. “Perhaps
not. The car will be here when Ian gives the word that we can open the gates to retrieve
it in the morn.”

“At least call him on your cell phone and let him know it’s here. That he doesn’t
need to go to war over this.”

“Lass, unless the castle is on fire, we dinna disturb our laird in the middle of the
night. Especially not since he picked a mate.”

“Fine. I’ll wake Cearnach. He’s next in command, right?”

Oran’s mouth kicked up at the corner a bit. “If Ian isn’t here, aye.”

“He isn’t. He’s
indisposed
.” She stormed back toward the keep as fast as she could manage. She imagined her
rental car vanishing before she was able to return for it, just like before.

Oran chuckled. “Cearnach has his hands full.”

“But will she be returning when she wakes him?” one of the men hollered from the top
of the wall walk, humor lacing his words.

Elaine snorted. Cearnach would want to see if his stuff had been returned as much
as she did hers.

Annoyed with Oran, Elaine hurried to the stairs to Cearnach’s bedchamber. When she
reached his door, she opened, then closed it. She heard nothing but his quiet breathing
and knew he was still sound asleep, never aware that she’d left him alone in the first
place. She rushed around the bed to his side and yanked open the curtains.

His eyes popped open, and he grabbed a sword sheathed beside the bed that she had
not noticed before.

Eyes wide, Elaine quickly moved back out of the path of the Highland warrior, afraid
he wasn’t awake enough to realize she wasn’t a threat to him. “It’s just me, Cearnach,”
she said in a rush.

“Lass, what are you doing out of bed?” Then he frowned. “Flynn hasn’t been bothering
you, has he?”

“No. I heard the dogs barking and then wolves howling and went to see what the matter
was. The McKinleys and Kilpatricks were prowling through your woods in wolf form.”

“Ah, that’s the trouble.” He sheathed his sword and reached out to snag her hand.

Before she could dodge away from his quick action, knowing just where this would lead
if she didn’t, he had her by the wrist, stopping her, his mouth curved up, warning
her that she shouldn’t have awakened him. He pulled her into bed with him. “You’re
freezing. You shouldn’t have been running around the bailey without being more properly
dressed. I’ll warm you up.”

He tugged off one of her boots and then the other.

“They brought my car back,” she said, trying to free herself, but he was all muscled
arms and legs and body, claiming her as he pulled the covers over them. Yet she thought
if he knew the importance of why she wanted to leave the bed and wanted him to go
with her, he’d agree and help retrieve her car. Surely.

“Even your nose is cold, lass,” he said, kissing it.

So much for him being interested in the return of her car.

“Cearnach,” she said sharply, trying to get him to pay attention to her. “My rental
car—”

“Will be there in the morning if you have come to tell me they delivered it and it
is beyond our gate, which is closed for now. It won’t be opened without Ian’s approval,
and he would not give it at this time of night…”

“Because he’s with his new mate, your cousin said.”

“Aye, true enough.”

“Well, since you’re second in charge…”

“When Ian is not on the premises or otherwise indisposed.”

“Then he’s otherwise indisposed…”

“If the matter is of the utmost importance.” He kissed her cheeks, his hands caressing
her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples.

“It is.”

“Nay, it is not. The gate stays closed, except like last night when the pack was waiting
for our return and the others who went searching for us. Keeping the gate closed now
means security of the pack. The car can wait until morning. This can’t.” He pressed
his heavy, hard erection against her thigh. “Lass,” Cearnach said, with such longing
that she couldn’t have fought him to come with her outside even if she’d wanted to.

The men at the wall walk had been right. Once she woke Cearnach, he wasn’t about to
let her leave his bed again that night. As much as she wanted her car back, and everything
else her cousins had stolen, she wanted these stolen moments with Cearnach more. She
also realized he was right about leaving the gate closed. She had been alone for so
long, dealing with issues on her own, never with a pack to worry about or to be concerned
about her. The notion was so alien that she couldn’t get used to it.

“You smell of the wind and fresh air, of the piney woods and the moisture from the
thick mist.” He breathed in the scents that had collected in her hair like those of
a wolf that had gathered interesting smells in her fur while exploring the woods,
returned to the pack, and shared the scents with the rest of the members.

“You smell of sandalwood soap and sexy man,” she murmured against his mouth.

He took that as an open invitation to another mating.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, sliding his hands beneath her sweater, his hands
hot against her cold breasts.

“I tried,” she said, leaning back against the bed and closing her eyes as she absorbed
the feeling of his fingers splayed across her aching breasts.

“Not hard enough,” he said, pushing the sweater up until her breasts were exposed.
“You’re ice cold. You shouldn’t have been running around outside without me.” He licked
a nipple. “Certainly not without wearing a heavy coat when you’re not used to our
weather.”

He leaned across her waist and licked her other nipple.

She smoothed his hair down, her eyes watching him, a small smile playing on her lips.
“I love you.”

“I know you do,” he said.

He grinned and her smile broadened, right before she tried to push him aside. He didn’t
budge. Instead, he clasped her wrists with one hand and held them above her head.
Then with his mouth, he trailed kisses from her low-cut jeans to her throat and her
mouth again.

“You think you’re one hot, bad wolf and in charge of me, don’t you?” she taunted.

“One hot, sexy Highland wolf armed and not wearing his kilt,” he said, tugging her
jeans button open, then pulling the zipper down.

He smelled her scent: intrigued, excited, and sexually aroused.

“You’ll have to let go of me if you want me naked.”

“Nay, lass. I know what I’m doing.” He flipped her over and pinned her down with his
body, his hands sliding underneath her, over her belly, up to her breasts until he
had handfuls of the beautiful soft mounds. His body moved over hers, letting her feel
his growing desire for her.

“Hmm,” she groaned, even though she didn’t want him to know how much he was turning
her on.

He slid his hand down the front of her jeans, lower until he cupped her mound. He
held her like that, as if he held her treasure in the palm of his hand, waiting for
her reaction.

“Cearnach,” she pleaded.

He inserted his middle finger into her as deeply as he could.

“More,” she whispered.

He pulled off her sweater, then kissed her naked back. He pushed her hair aside and
licked her neck.

She shivered, loving the sensation, and tried to turn over.

“Nay, lass. I’m in charge. The big, sexy Highland wolf, remember?”

“Bad wolf,” she said, and took a deep breath of his musky scent, validating his level
of arousal.

He chuckled. Grabbing her waistband, he slid her jeans over her hips and buttocks,
down her thighs and shins, until he could tug them off completely and toss them to
the floor.

He pushed her legs apart, his arousal already painful with readiness. Kissing her
shoulders and back and neck, he slipped his hands under her breasts and gave them
another gentle squeeze.

“You shouldn’t have left the bed, lass,” he said again.

She murmured a gratifying sound, not agreeing with his words, but with what he was
doing to her body. Her nipples were sexy peaks, and he could smell her arousal, wet
and ready for his penetration.

He kissed each buttock as she barely breathed.

He was throbbing already with pent-up need. Kissing her ear, he stroked her clit and
rubbed his body against her soft globes, making her moan. She smelled and tasted and
felt and sounded delicious. His fingers slid into her creamy sex, then stroked her
swollen nub. Opening for him, she spread her legs, knees drawing up so he had better
access.

He groaned with the need to penetrate her, to release the burning craving to have
her.

He entered her folds with his hot, rigid penis and pushed hard.

“Oh, yes,” she panted, as he pulled his hips back, then plunged into her even more
deeply. She moved against him, encouraging him, driving him.

His hand slid back into the thick curls covering her sex, and he stroked her bud again.
He could feel her fever pitch, the rising tide nearly swallowing her whole, and then
the crash as she buried her mouth against the mattress and screamed his muffled name.

He stiffened, driving into her until he felt the release coming. He jerked with the
sensation, felt the shudders of her climax squeezing his cock in a pleasurable, wet,
hot way, and collapsed.

He wanted to stay like this, buried inside her, pinning her to the mattress, keeping
her in his bed where she belonged, not running around the inner bailey seeking a way
to get to her rental car.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to learn what they could about the car.

BOOK: A Highland Werewolf Wedding
5.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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