Captured by a Laird (15 page)

Lena was rewarded with a genuine smile as Archon began to tell her more about the home he had been pulled from. She listened with interest as he described a pampered existence far removed from highland life. Suddenly, Archon’s voice lowered.

“I have a need that cannot be sated by the touch of a woman,” he confessed. “I would never wish to marry a woman who expected me to fulfil my duties in the bedroom.”

Lena tried to look reassuring as she considered her next words carefully. She had no wish to hurt the boy’s feelings. “I think I could live with that.”

Archon visibly relaxed. “My aunt has a cook for whom I have a great fondness. I may recommend that he is given a position in the kitchens here.”

“We must surround ourselves with people who care for us and us for them.” Lena felt as though she were consoling a child. “I would advise you to be cautious around your father though.”

“What should he be cautious about?” Fogert entered the room with Sarah on his arm. “I am sure we have no secrets here.”

Sarah smiled and took her son’s hand. “It is good to see you, Archon.”

“I have missed you, mother,” he replied. “It is good to be home.”

“And how are you, Lena?” Sarah asked kindly. “You look very fetching in that gown. I may even consider wearing it again, now I have seen it on you.”

“It is not my usual style, but I admire its finery,” Lena said. “I grew up dressed as a boy and have not changed my garb since. Maybe it is time to make some changes.”

Sarah clapped her hands delightedly. “Oh, I will help you. I have so many dresses that I no longer wear. It would be fun to try them on you. You have such a lovely face and your figure is almost the same size as mine, except around the stomach,” she added with a light laugh.

It was not hard to be in Sarah’s company and soon the four of them were chatting about a range of subjects. Lena noticed that Archon spent much of his time gazing at his mother with adoration. She also noticed that this seemed to annoy Fogert to the point that he tried various ways to divert the boy’s attention. All were in vain until talk turned to the prospect of a wedding.

Archon paled and looked imploringly to his mother for support.

“Maybe we have rushed into a decision we will all live to regret,” she suggested. “Lena has the child of Harris growing within her. Do you honestly think he will allow her to marry the son of a rival laird?”

“He will be powerless to stop it if we call the holy man here today,” Fogert said.

“Today?” Lena and Archon spoke as one.

“Today,” Fogert repeated. “I have dispatched a rider to seek out a holy man. He has been warned to return with haste.”

Three sets of eyes widened at the prospect of an imminent wedding. Archon was the first to verbalise his reaction.

“Mother,” he implored, “do I have to?”

“It seems that your father has decided,” Sarah said sadly, her outgoing demeanour replaced by a hopeless dejection.

“I do not recall agreeing as yet,” Lena interjected. “I know that the holy man will seek my compliance through a private audience. I have been in this situation once before, as you will recall.”

“You have no choice,” Fogert snapped. “Neither do you,” he added turning to Archon. “If you wish your special cook to join us here, you will do as I ask.”

Lena’s eyes flashed with hate as she looked at the smug face of Fogert. His greed knew no bounds as he prepared to sacrifice his only son to a life of misery just to acquire more land.

“I will have my wishes granted with regards to Rwenor,” she snapped, pulling herself up in a vain attempt to exert her authority. “We wish to remain independent. My clan will not surrender to you.”

“I rather think they will, my dear, when they see I have you as part of my clan, by marriage.”

Lena sank back onto her seat. Her eyes fell downcast as she realised that he held the upper hand. Despite managing to flee Haigh and Harris, Lena had been trapped by her own weak body and a scheming laird. She thought of all the people that depended on her; each face parading through her mind, staring at her with trust and utter devotion. Of course they would bow to Fogert. If she was wed to his heir they would believe her to have made the right choice for Rwenor. For the third time in her life, Lena’s thoughts turned to escape.

Chapter Twenty-One

Lena found that sleep did not come easily to her that night. Her dreams and waking were fraught with pain and guilt at what her foolishness had unleashed for her clan. Under the protection of Fogert, Rwenor may be safe from the raiding parties, but at what cost to the liberty of her people?

After eventually falling into a fitful slumber, it was not long before dawn broke through Lena’s respite. Its unwelcome glare penetrated the thin skin that separated her from the grim reality that day could bring. Groaning, Lena sleepily forced her heavy eyelids to open, but the bright glare forced her to shut them again.

“Does the sight of me offend you so much?” said a deep voice laced with emotion.

Lena’s eyes shot open once again. Blinking against the light, she made out a large form standing in front of the window.

“Stref?” she asked, sitting up.

“Who else would dare enter your chamber?” the voice rumbled. “Or were you expecting your betrothed? Just how many men are you planning to marry before you are through?”

“None, if I had my way,” Lena spat, already riled by the man that had the power to send her senses into turmoil.

The very sight of him, arrogantly standing framed by her window as if he had the right to be in her personal space infuriated her, yet the familiar trail of desire had already begun its telltale journey through her body. She was furious that he thought he could stroll into her chamber and make demands on her. If she wished to marry Archon, she did not need the permission of Stref Harris, and she planned to tell him that in no uncertain terms.

Stref had not moved. It was as if he were rooted to the spot. Lena glanced down at herself and realised the cause of Stref’s penetrating stare. Her flimsy nightwear left little to the imagination, including a fine view of her rounded stomach. She instinctively tried to cover herself with her hands as the words of anger she had prepared stuck in her throat. A dark blush stained her cheeks and her gaze lowered to rest on the bed. The restlessness of her night had resulted in her bed coverings being trussed up around her legs. Her efforts to pull then up were having the opposite effect. As if snapped from his trance, Stref took two steps across the room and plucked a skin covering that lay discarded on the floor at the end of the bed.

“Here,” he said his voice gruff and low.

Lena took the proffered item and wrapped herself in it, shivering as the soft fur touched her skin. The proximity of Stref was wreaking havoc within her body and it was as if his hands had caressed her exposed flesh. Lena let out a sigh as she recalled the intimate touch of the man she had been running from.

Stref’s expression darkened at the sound. His response was to clench his jaw and look intently at her as if drinking in each detail.

“Was it so awful between us that you ran to Fogert for protection?” Stref asked, his voice catching as he spoke.

“W–what are you doing here?” she asked, returning his question with one of her own. “If Fogert catches you, he will kill you. He is not a very nice man.”

“I am not a very nice man when someone takes what is mine,” Stref growled. He paced towards her with a predatory look, his eyes never leaving hers as he grew closer. “You are mine, Lena, and what grows inside you is mine also. Fogert and his bastard son will not get their hands on my heir.”

By now, Stref was so close to Lena that she could feel his hot breath on her face. His scent was so familiar and Lena longed to reach out and pull him into her embrace. She gazed at his full mouth and recalled how it had claimed hers in passion. She lifted her eyes to meet his. Her tongue poked out in an attempt to lick the dryness from her lips, a habit his presence seemed to ignite.

Stref groaned at the gesture then lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was hard and demanding. It took her breath away. Lena moved her hands and sank them into Stref’s thick hair. It had grown longer and curled at the back of his head in soft waves. Lena pulled Stref’s head towards her, demanding a deeper kiss. His weight fell onto the bed as he sat beside her on the mattress. Lena’s body was coming alive, and she yearned to feel the sensation that had been lost to her these past six moons.

Lena was the first to add her tongue into the kiss. She delicately licked the lips that seemed to punish hers with their sweetness and found they opened invitingly. Her tongue explored the contours of his mouth with passion. As if sensing her willing response, Stref’s kiss became softer and more intense. His own tongue parried with hers; then moved past to fill her own mouth. Its rough texture and intense pressure made Lena arch forward, desperate to feel the hard contours of Stref’s form against her.

He gripped the flimsy material of Lena’s nightgown. His large hands spanned the shape of her back, holding her tight. Lena used the pressure to manoeuvre herself onto his lap and pushed her enlarged breasts against him, purring as his hard lines moulded to her soft curves.

“What about the baby?” he said, breathing hard as he pulled himself apart from her. “Will it be harmed?” His hand was already cupping her breast as he spoke, his fingers teasing her nipples into hard peaks.

“No,” she gasped. “No.” She bucked against him, her hormones demanding satisfaction as she ground herself onto the hard bulge between his legs.

He wants me as much as I want him.
Lena felt the pent up desire in Stref. She knew he held back, trying not to alarm her.

The thought made her dizzy with emotion. Tears pricked her eyes as her body strained against the flimsy gown. With a flick of her arms, Lena pulled the gown over her head and sent it sailing to the ground. Stref closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Lena, I don’t think I can wait, this time,” he croaked, his eyes remaining closed as he spoke as if ashamed of his own need of her.

“Look at me,” Lena coaxed, giddy with the power she had over this big man. Her breasts, heavy with the growth of the child within her, bounced before his face as he opened his eyes to behold her naked form.

“Lena,” he grunted. “You are so beautiful.”

Lena swayed on his lap, rubbing herself against him as her breasts swung from side to side. Stref captured her waist and held her fast. His lips locked onto her right breast and he sucked upon her. The touch of his mouth on her made Lena’s body jolt. The force of her arousal was beyond anything she had felt before. She threw her head back and thrust her body against him, simulating the act that she craved.

The delights continued as Stref feasted upon each of her breasts, cupping the other with his giant hands. Lena reached down to free his hard member from beneath his plaid. It pulsed ready for her wet core to wrap around it. Lena obliged by lifting herself up then lowering herself down upon the massive shaft.

Stref filled her completely. She gasped as her weight finally settled back on his lap. The sensation of him deep inside her caused Lena to shudder then cry out as waves of pleasure pulsed through her body. Stref maintained the sinfully delightful assault on her breasts as she cried out his name in full climax.

* * * *

Stref savoured the delicious sweetness of the rosy nipple that filled his mouth. The increased swell of Lena’s breasts had been a surprise for Stref. Her rounded curves had filled him with a primal desire to possess her. Stref knew that his child grew inside her, but nothing had prepared him for the fierce passion that her pregnant body ignited in him. Her passion had matched his own and her instant climax as his shaft had entered her was causing the familiar tightening of the sac that hung between his legs. He knew that his seed was preparing to force its way out into the moist core of the woman that mounted him—his woman and the woman that nurtured his heir.

Stref spanned Lena’s thickening waist with his hands. He lifted her slowly from him, relishing the feel of her as he withdrew. He lay her on the bed, making sure her head was placed on the full pillows. Now he was free of her, his only thought was to plunge back inside. Being deep within her was the place he yearned to be, and he cursed himself for leaving it so long before he had sought her out. His pride had almost cost him the one woman that could make him feel complete.

Stref hovered above her, bracing his hand at either side of her head. Lena parted her legs and lifted her hips to meet him, eager to receive him back into her warmth. Unable to exercise any more restraint, Stref buried himself deeply. He filled her quickly, pushing himself hard into her. Stref bucked, his own hips feeling the inner muscles of her womanhood clutching him close. He moaned as he pulled out then pushed in again hard and fast. Again and again he banged himself against her, listening as she urged him on harder and faster. Her legs wrapped tightly around his hips as his last thrust released the seed that raced along his length and out into her body. As he spilled inside her, her body racked with spasms and her cries filled the chamber. The force of her climax once again matched his own and milked every drop of life-giving seed from his shaft.

Sated and content, Stref rolled off of Lena and pulled her into his arms. Her cheeks were wet as he rained kisses on her smiling mouth.

“I came to rescue you,” he explained with a sheepish grin. “But I think we may have alerted Fogert’s guard to my presence.”

The returning look that Lena gave him made Stref ache with love. He knew as soon as he had set eyes upon the sleeping woman that he loved her. Her beauty aside, he loved her spirit and her passion and knew he had a mate he could share his life with. His mission was now to escape from Fogert without creating another enemy and convince Lena that her future lay with him. A small smile played on his full lips as he thought of the fun he would have persuading her of his plan.

Chapter Twenty-Two