Highland Lover (16 page)

“I dinnae have the patience to go back to the camp or to wait for the sun to set.”

Alana was about to say something about his eagerness, which she found highly flattering, but he

kissed her and she quickly forgot what she was going to say. His hunger was evident in his kiss. His

need was revealed in the way he pressed her body so close to his. As her desire for him flared into

full life, she felt his desire for her flow into her veins, enhancing her own and making it fiercer,

deeper. She clung to him, returning his kiss to the best of her ability, as he slowly lowered her to the soft, mossy ground on the bank of the river. It felt as if every part of her, heart, soul, mind, and

body, sighed in hearty welcome as he settled his long body on top of hers.

This moment had been approaching for three long days, their need for each other growing fiercer

with each kiss, each touch, each heated glance. Alana had lost all hesitation long ago. She suspected she had been as impatient for his wound to heal as Gregor had been.

“Say aye, lass,” Gregor murmured against the soft curve of her neck as he unlaced her gown. “Ye

have been saying it with every sweet kiss, every soft caress, and every sigh for three days, but ye

have never said the word. Say it now, Alana. Say aye.”

“Aye.”

If he had not been so desperate to hold Alana close, skin to skin, Gregor suspected he would have

collapsed from relief. Despite every sign that she was ready to be his lover, he had still suffered a doubt or two. She was a virgin, a wellborn maid whose innocence was a fiercely protected prize

intended only for a husband. He had offered her no promises of love or marriage. He still feared that, at the last moment, she would hesitate and ask him for those promises he was not yet free to give

her.

He stripped her of her clothes with a little more speed than skill. Desperation and greed drove him.

When he tossed aside the last of her clothes, he sat back on his heels and looked her over, ignoring

the fierce blush that stained her cheeks. She was sleek and soft, her curves gentle ones. Compared to the women he had known in the past, Alana was almost childlike, but he had not thought of her as a

child since the day he had cut off her bindings. Alana would probably never have lush, plump

curves, but he found her slender shape beautiful.

Still staring at her, watching how her nipples hardened invitingly beneath his gaze, he threw off his clothes. Gregor knew he would have to keep a tight control on his need to be inside her. She was an

innocent, and he needed to be gentle with her. He did not need to have had any experience with

virgins to know that the first time was very important and could leave lasting impressions, good and

bad. Despite all the sensual hunger gnawing at him, he was actually a little nervous. Somehow he

would have to hold back his own aching need until he had stirred her passion to a height where the

pain he would have to inflict would not leave her cold.

When he settled himself back in her welcoming arms, their flesh touching for the first time, he

shuddered. A faint tremor went through her and he breathed an inner sigh of relief. It might not be

so difficult after all. Alana appeared to be as eager and as hungry for this as he was.

“Ah, lass, ye feel so right,” he murmured as he ran his hand down her side and stroked her hip. “I

have been waiting for this from the moment I discovered ye were no child.”

Now that he was not staring at her so boldly, Alana felt her embarrassment finally fade away. “I

have given it some thought as weel.” She lightly stroked his broad chest, savoring the feel of his

warm skin beneath her hand. “Ye are a verra fine-looking mon, Gregor.”

“And I have ne’er seen anything as fine as ye lying here upon the moss with the sun gilding your

soft skin.”

He kissed her when she started to protest his flattering words. It stung a little that she doubted his words, but he understood. Her feeling that she was no beauty was an old one, bred somewhere in

her past. It could be because of things said or done, or even born of her own fears and concerns, but it was set hard. It would take more than a few kisses or his lovemaking to banish such doubts. He

would give her passion and, he decided, he would give her confidence in herself. Even if she did not

stay with him—and the mere thought of that gave him an odd, sharp pain—he would be certain that

she left him sure of her own beauty and sensuality. It was the least he could do for the gift she was about to give him.

Alana ran her hands over his body as he trailed kisses down her throat. She could not believe how

good he felt. As a healer she had seen many a male body, but she had never felt such a craving to

touch one before. The feel of his warm skin beneath her hands, the movement of his muscles as he

shifted in her arms, and even the faint roughness of a scar beneath her fingers all delighted her and fed her desire.

When he covered her breasts with his big, lightly calloused hands and kissed the spot between them,

Alana closed her eyes and lost herself in the pleasure of his touch. The hot, damp brush of his

tongue over her aching nipples made her shudder and tighten her grip on his arms. A cry that was

more delight than shock escaped her when he drew the hard tip of her breast deep into his mouth

and sucked. The pleasure speeding through her body was so intense Alana was surprised she did not

swoon. Instead, she slid her fingers into his thick, long hair and held him in place, silently urging him on as he began to feast upon her breasts.

He murmured soft, coaxing words against her skin as he stroked her belly, but Alana was not sure

what he was saying. Then he slipped his hand between her thighs, and she tensed. By the time she

could grasp the words needed to protest such an intimacy, she no longer wished to do so. It was a

shocking intimacy but with each caress, her passion grew. All the desire she felt for him seemed to

flow downward, pooling in that place he pleasured and tormented with his long fingers. Alana heard

herself gasp and then moan softly when he slid one long finger inside her. Even as he began to kiss

her, his tongue moving in her mouth in perfect rhythm with the finger he moved in and out of her,

her body loudly clamored for more. The way he placed a second finger inside her only eased that

growing need for a moment.

“Gregor,” she cried as he returned his kisses to her breasts, “I need.”

“Aye, I ken it, lass. I can feel your need.” He removed his fingers, praying he had readied her

enough to ease the pain he would soon have to inflict upon her. “So hot and wet,” he whispered

against her ear as he settled himself between her thighs and slowly began to enter her. “Wrap these

bonnie legs around me, dearest.” He groaned softly when she obeyed his hoarse command and he

felt the soft skin of her inner thighs rub lightly against his hips.

Although she still felt the heat of desire in her veins, Alana also felt an uncomfortable stretching as Gregor pushed into her slowly, almost cautiously. “Ye are a verra large mon, Gregor,” she

whispered, trying not to tense for she strongly suspected that would only make it more difficult for

both of them.

“Thank ye.”

She laughed and then yelped as he abruptly thrust himself deep inside of her. In an instinctive

gesture, she placed her hands upon his chest and tried to push him away, to put an end to the sting

and discomfort he was causing her. He kissed her ever so gently and then lightly rested his forehead

against hers. Alana realized he was waiting for her discomfort to ease, for her body to adjust to this intrusion. There was a fine tremor in his body as he fought to hold himself still inside her. She

wrapped her arms around him and realized that her pain was already fading. For a moment, she

closed her eyes and concentrated on the fact that she was now one with Gregor, that they were now

as close as two people could be. The last of her pain slipped away and she felt her desire return. She looked at Gregor, at his tightly closed eyes and gritted teeth, and smiled. It was probably time for

her to end his suffering.

Gregor wondered if this could drive a man insane. He was exactly where he had ached to be for

over a fortnight, buried deep inside Alana. Feeling her tight heat around him was pure bliss. Not

being able to move now that he was there was pure agony. He was sure it was the sort of torment

that could bring on madness. Since she was not moving, he feared he had caused her a lot of pain,

perhaps even enough to make her heartily regret saying aye. He slowly opened his eyes and caught

her staring at him, a faint smile curving her kiss-reddened lips.

“Ah, ye are done with your wee nap, are ye?” she asked.

“Wretched lass.” He propped himself up on his forearms. “I hurt ye.”

“Aye, a wee bit. ’Tis gone now.”

“Thank God.”

He kissed her even as he began to slowly move inside her, thrusting gently as if he feared she would

break. Alana wrapped her legs more firmly around him and quickly began to meet his every thrust,

letting her body’s greed guide her. Soon she wished him to be less gentle, less carefully controlled

in his movements. Her whole body seemed to be tensed on the brink of some unseen edge. Alana

moved her hands down Gregor’s back and grasped his taut buttocks, trying to push him deeper

inside her. That brought a deep groan out of him and suddenly his movements grew fiercer and less

measured.

Gregor muttered something against her neck that sounded vaguely like an apology, but Alana paid it

little heed. Her body felt as though it was reaching for something, although she did not know what.

And then she felt all the taut need inside of her shatter, a sweet fire spreading throughout her body.

She called out to Gregor, wanting him to share it with her. She could feel him with her a heartbeat

later, his hoarse voice shouting out her name as the warmth of his seed flooded her womb. Alana

clung to him, holding him deep within her, as she gave herself over completely to the pleasure he

had brought her.

Gregor slumped against Alana, resting most of his weight upon his forearms. He was feeling both

stunned and quite proud of himself. He had fulfilled his promise to bring her pleasure but was

astounded by how much she had brought him. In all the times he had been with a woman he had

never felt such passion, such fire, and such complete satisfaction. Gregor could still feel the thrill of his release running through his body. He felt wrung out, but knew he could be eager for more very

soon.

This was what he had been searching for in the arms of all those other women. He had finally given

up the search and decided to seek a little land and coin through marriage instead of some great

passion or bonding. With Alana, he thought, he had found the richness of feeling that made Ewan

and Sigimor such happy men. This was what he wanted, what he needed, and what he intended to

have.

Words crowded into his mouth and he bit them back. He had no right to speak of a future yet. And,

he realized, after having nearly betrothed himself to the wrong woman once, he was feeling hesitant

to offer any promises to another. Gregor felt a strong need to be sure, absolutely sure. Alana

certainly felt right, but that could be passion clouding his reason. He would be cautious this time.

There was also the fact that, if he did offer any promises to Alana, he did not want her finding out

about Mavis afterward. That would surely make Alana think he was far too free with such words

and that his promises meant nothing.

Slowly easing himself out of her embrace, he turned onto his side and tugged her hard against him.

She still had a hint of pleasure’s blush upon her face and her brown eyes were rich with warmth as

she looked at him. When she turned onto her side and kissed his chest, he felt a renewed twitch of

desire.

“Is there any pain, love?” he asked, lightly stroking her hip.

“Nay, just a wee bit of a sting and, weel,” she blushed, “I am a wee bit sticky.”

Gregor laughed and stood up. He pulled her to her feet and ignored her blushes as he looked her

over. There were a few red marks upon her breasts caused by the rough scrape of his emerging

beard and only a little blood upon her thighs. He picked her up in his arms and walked into the river.

It was sharply cold, but the day was warm and made the water feel almost pleasurable. Setting

Alana down on her feet in the water, he used his hand to sluice water over her body and, ignoring

her squeaks of protest, between her thighs.

“Ye have no respect for a person’s modesty,” she complained as he dragged her out of the water

and dried her off with his shirt.

“None at all,” Gregor agreed cheerfully and tugged her shift on over her head.

Alana watched him don his plaid and sighed. The lovemaking had been all she could have hoped for,

but the afterward was very disappointing. Gregor had held her and gently stroked her skin as they

had regained their senses, but there had been no love words. She sternly told herself that it was

much too soon, that men were very slow to recognize any feelings beyond lust and an easy affection,

but she was not sure she believed that excuse.

“Ye are looking verra serious, lass,” he said quietly as he moved to stand in front of her. “Regrets?”

“Nay,” she said and meant it.

“Good.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Best we get back to camp