Highlander the Dark Dragon (19 page)

She jolted when his hands grabbed at her waist and lifted her to slam against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. And she startled again when he released her and her bottom slapped against the wood chest.

His mouth left hers to once again nip down her neck to her breast and when his teeth caught hold of her hard nipple, she almost leapt off the chest. Her desire soared and with it the urge to touch him, and her hand slipped down between his legs.

He felt like the finest wool, soft and smooth, though hard as metal and she enjoyed the feel of him in her hand.

His hand settled over hers, squeezing it and moving it up and down. “Grow me harder,” he demanded and again she obeyed, though it was because she wanted to. She enjoyed the feel of him and the power of growing him large in her hand.

He suckled at her breasts while she did as he told her, a mistake on his part. He thought he would come then and there, his manhood responding enthusiastically to her innocent touch, but he would not allow himself to. The entire night lay ahead of them and the Dragon was too ravenous to be satisfied with simply one feeding.

While his mouth lingered at her breasts, his fingers drifted along her body, caressing as he went until he found that special spot in the triangle of hair between her legs and he began to tease it.

She dropped her head back with a moan and her hand fell off him to join the other in gripping the edge of the chest.

His hands cupped her hips and yanked her forward and as he did his own hips nudged her legs apart. Her eyes turned wide as she felt the tip of him ready to enter her, and she glanced down and gasped as she watched him drive into her swiftly. He sank deep inside her, then pulled out of her, though not completely.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he demanded and when she did, his hands slipped beneath her backside, took firm hold, and lifted her enough so that he was able to move in and out of her with ease.

Soon his rhythm turned hard and fast, and after only a few minutes, she said, “I am going to come.”

“Aye, you are, many times tonight,” Rhys said and squeezed her backside as he yanked her hard against him.

She let out a cry, grabbing his shoulders as she felt her passion climb and climb and climb until she let out a scream as she suddenly plunged into a never-ending climax that completely devoured her. When she thought she was finally spent, her head fell to rest on her husband’s chest.

“You are not done yet,” he demanded as she fell against him. He pulled out of her, yanked her off the chest, and turned her around, bending her over to slip into her once more.

She gasped, though still wet, he seemed to feel larger inside her this way and when he began to pound against her, she once again braced her hands on the edge of the chest and was shocked to feel another climax begin to build inside her.

The slap of his body against hers with every thrust he delivered was like a strange enticing melody to her ears and fed her passion even more. So did the sharp, quick nips he delivered to the back of her neck with his teeth. But it was when his hand came around in front of her and his fingers began to work their magic on her nub that was beyond sensitive that she once again exploded in a climax and this time when she did, so did her husband.

Rhys rarely let out a moan when he climaxed and if he did, it was barely heard. This climax had him roaring out loud. Never had a climax felt as good as this one. He continued to pound against her, wanting to savor every last bit of it. And when it was done, he bent over her, bracing his hands beside hers, feeling more spent than he ever had from a climax.

They both remained like that for several minutes, neither wanting to move, neither wanting to separate. Finally and reluctantly, Rhys pulled out of her and turned her around to face him.

A tear trickled down her cheek.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked his stomach tightening at the thought as he wiped the tear away.

She shook her head, sniffling to keep more tears from falling.

“Then why do you cry?”

Another tear slipped out and she laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. How did she tell him that whether he was the Dragon or Quinn, it did not matter? She loved them both with all her heart and then some.

“Answer me, wife,” he demanded.

She spoke from her heart. “I did not know how wonderful making love could feel.”

A smile crept across his face, though his wife could not see it and he scooped her up in his arms. “I am not finished with you yet.”

A grin quickly surfaced on her face as her arms went around his neck. “You just answered my prayer.”

He held her tight against him as he walked down the stairs to their bedchamber. “You will tell me if you grow sore.”

“And you will tell me if you grow tired.” Heather was shocked to hear him burst out laughing at her remark and her smile grew. He was not pulling her down into the darkness; she was pulling him out of it.

Heather winced as her husband pulled out of her.

“Damn it, Heather, I told you to tell me if you were sore,” Rhys said, rolling off her to sit up beside her in bed. “How sore are you?” he asked, his hands reaching to spread her legs further apart.

Heather quickly closed them tight.

Rhys looked down at her. “Do not tell me you are embarrassed for me to take a look when there is not a spot on you I have not seen, touched, or kissed.”

“That was in the throes of lovemaking.”

“You will obey me. Now spread your legs.”

She shook her head.

“Am I to understand that you will only obey me when we make love?”

She smiled. “You are beginning to understand me.”

“A pity that you have yet to understand me,” he said and moved so fast that Heather let out a sharp cry when he spread her legs wide.

Rhys cringed when he took a look. “Damn it, Heather, you should have told me you were too sore to take me this morning.”

“My desire for you outweighed my soreness,” she said her cheeks blushing red.

“What can I do to ease your pain?”

“Stop looking between my legs.”

He closed her legs gently. “Now tell me how I can tend you.”

“I will see to it myself.”

“I caused this and I will make it right,” he insisted.

She laughed softly. “I did not force you to lay with me.”

He laughed as well. “I could argue that, since you can be quite demanding in bed...or out of it.”

Heather blushed again, recalling the places they had made love in the room. She had straddled him while he sat upon a chair, and the door shook when he took her against it. Her blush deepened when she just now realized the guard could have heard them. And what of her screams? She had been wickedly loud when he bent her over the table and also the bed. Her hand went to cover her mouth.

Rhys grabbed her hand. “Your deepening blush tells me your thoughts. I love the way you scream when I plunge deep inside you and I would order you never to stop,” —he grinned— “but it is not necessary, for you will never be able to stop yourself from screaming out your pleasure.”

“It is your fault,” she argued.

“Aye, it is,” he admitted, “as is this.” He laid his hand gently at the apex of her legs. “Now let me tend you.”

Heather rested her hand on his arm. “Please, let me see to it?”

“You ask like an obedient wife, so I will not refuse you, though know that I will not touch you again until I see for myself that you have healed.”

“As you wish, husband,” she said, smiling.

“I mean it, Heather,” he said sternly and his arm was quick to scoop her around the waist and bring her along with him to settle on his lap once he sat braced against his pillows. “Now tell me what you were doing on the upper floor last night.”

She moved to settle more comfortably on his lap and recounted what Seamus had told her. “So, that is what took me there, though to no avail, for I found no secret passage.”

“We will search the room together later when I am finished with things that require my attention.”

Heather tucked a strand of his dark hair behind his ear, then ran her finger down along his jaw to his chin. She searched his face for the young man she loved, but it was the Dark Dragon she kept seeing. Had he devoured Quinn completely or had Quinn had no choice but to surrender to him.

“Who was the man who made love to me for the first time in this bed? He touched and kissed me, but he was never truly here.”

“A man trying to be someone other than who he is.”

“Who is he?”

“He is a man more used to harshness than to kindness. A man more used to roughness than to gentleness when taking a woman. A man more used to hatred than to love.

Heather sat up straight. She ached to tell him that she had always loved him and always would, but she answered as she thought best for now. “I do believe I am falling in love with the Dark Dragon.”

He took hold of her chin. “Do not waste your love on me, wife, for you will be sorely disappointed.”

~~~

Heather stared at the sizeable wood chest two men had placed in the room under the window. The rain had stopped in the middle of the night, but the skies had remained overcast, so it was a gray light that filtered through the windows and over the chest.

Rhys had told her that he was having it brought to her, explaining that perhaps she would find some garments in it that she could wear or perhaps stitch to fit her size.

She had just finished tending herself with cool cloths and a light salve she had found worked well on the women in her clan who had suffered such a problem. Now she wanted to dress and get outside before rain fell again and forced her to remain inside. She opened the lid of the chest eager to find something to wear and be on her way.

Her mouth fell open in shock. The chest was filled to the brim with women’s garments and as she rifled through them she wondered where her husband had gotten them all. Surprisingly, most looked as though they would fit her and the few that did not would need only a tuck or two. None appeared too small or too large.

She chose a pale green garment that cinched at the waist and shoulders with ties, fitting her nicely. The sleeves fell just passed her elbows and it rode high on her chest. She did not want to waste time searching through all the garments, but she did dig her hands through the mound, hoping to find boots or shoes, and she was elated when she yanked out a pair of boots that strapped around the ankles. She was also delighted to find a pair of sandals, better left to use another day.

With her hair neatly plaited, she hurried out of the keep, grateful to Nessa for having brought food to her after Rhys had left. She walked around the small village, calling out greetings, stopping to speak with those she knew and getting acquainted with those she did not know. Now and then she would cast a glance toward the barn, though she did not make it obvious. A guard sat in front of the door, so that not even a quick-footed person could get passed him. Still, she was determined to find a way in there.

She walked along the edge of the woods talking with Belle until the woman excused herself to tend to her chores. Heather kept walking. She had thought she heard an odd noise when Belle had been there. Now she listened and was sure she heard something.

An animal was in distress. Ever since she was young she could sense when animals needed help and they seemed to sense that she could help them. She never told anyone about it, though she often thought her father knew. He made mention time and again how her mum had a special way with animals.

Heather stopped and listened and the sound broke her heart. She could not ignore the animal’s cries of distress. She knew ghost warriors had to be watching her, but she could be fast on her feet when necessary. She only hoped that she was faster than the warriors who would chase after her.

She listened for a few more minutes, pretending she found something interesting on the ground and poked at it with her foot. Then all of a sudden she took off into the woods. She was relieved that it did not take long to reach the animal and that no one yet followed.

Her breath caught as she came face to face with the beast. It was a wolf, a large black one.

If the warriors saw him, they would surely kill him.

Heather stopped a few feet from the wolf and waited a moment before she began to approach him slowly and speak to him softly. “I am here to help, but I fear we have little time. So, I have no time to win your trust.” She hunched down and held out her hand to him. “May I help you?”

The wolf seemed to sense her gentleness and urgency and approached her with quick steps.

Heather saw how he hobbled to her and once he was close, she laid a gentle hand at his side and continued speaking softly to him as she ran her hand down along his leg. She heard the soft rumble of a growl in his throat and it took a moment for her to realize that he warned her that soon they would not be alone.

“I must hurry,” she said and lifted his paw to see that a sliver of wood had somehow embedded itself between the pads of his paw. It was red and sore, but if she could extract it, she was sure he would see to the rest.

She heard rushing footfalls drawing closer and while she stroked the wolf gently with one hand, she plucked the sliver of wood out with the other. “You must run,” she whispered to him.

“Step away slowly, Lady Heather.”

She almost sighed with relief when she heard it was Pitt and not her husband. She turned, keeping herself close to the wolf so that the warriors would not take a chance of releasing their arrows in fear of hitting her.

“He was injured. I saw to his wound. He means you no harm,” she called out.

“Step aside,” Pitt ordered again.

“I will not let you harm him.” She realized then that more men were gathering around and they would be on the wolf as soon as he took off. She had no choice. She would not see the beautiful creature die. She had to run with him so that the warriors would not pelt him with arrows.

“The Dragon will be here soon, Lady Heather. He will not be happy about this.”

That was enough to have her turn to the wolf and say, “Run!”

She followed right behind him, pleased that her frequent runs in the meadow with her sisters had served a purpose after all. She kept pace with the wolf or perhaps he had sensed her intentions and kept a pace she could follow.

The footfalls behind her were growing closer and she called out to the wolf, “Keep going. No matter what keep going.”

The wolf picked up speed and she followed as best she could and when he jumped atop a formation of rocks and disappeared behind it, she sensed he was safe. She stopped abruptly and just as abruptly was grabbed from behind and swung around to face her husband.

Anything she was about to say died on her lips as soon as she saw his face. There was no doubt the Dragon stood before her. His dark eyes blazed with fury, his nostrils flared, and it would be fiery words he unleashed on her.

His hand tightened on her arm like an iron shackle. She was not going anywhere.

“We hurry back,” Rhys shouted to his men.

She was surprised that the warriors did not follow after the wolf, but instead surrounded her and Rhys, providing a thick safety barrier around them. She wondered what kind of danger lurked in the woods that such precautions were taken.

When they were a few feet in the village, the warriors dispersed, while a few remained on the edge of the woods. Rhys kept walking, pulling her along with him, his pace barely slowing. People stared and whispers circled as they watched their leader practically drag his wife through the village. Heather almost tripped over her own feet twice, but Rhys was quick to right her.

Heather was shocked when he brought her to the barn. The guard upon seeing them approach, hurried to his feet and moved the bench away from the door just as Rhys reached out for the handle.

He yanked her inside, ordering the guard to shut the door behind him. He rushed her along, stopping at the stall where she had last seen the two dead ghost warriors. Nothing was there but a partially filled grain sack sitting atop a barrel.

His heated tone flamed his words. “I give orders for a reason—to protect my clan. You endangered not only your life, but the lives of my men by disobeying me. Evil lurks in those woods.” He shoved her toward the barrel. “See it for yourself and perhaps then you will obey me.”

A tingle of fear rushed over Heather as she took a step toward the barrel. If the sack held no grain, what did it hold? She cautiously undid the tie on the sack and pulled the edges down around whatever was in it.

Heather’s hands froze when it revealed the severed head of a man that had been beaten beyond reason, his eyes gorged out of his head like the other warrior. Maggots feasted on what was left of the flesh and other bugs began to crawl out of the holes and what was left of his nose. His mouth hung agape as if in a perpetual scream when suddenly a spider crawled out of it.

She jumped back, her stomach revolting at the sickening sight and she turned to her husband, stretching her hand out to him.

Rhys grabbed her around the waist and hurried her away from the disgusting sight. He quickly bent her at the waist, saying, “Take deep breathes.”

She did as he said and while doing so she heard someone enter the barn. The next thing she knew, Rhys was placing a wet cloth to her face. The coolness chased away the last of the protesting rumbles in her stomach and she straightened, though dropped back to lean against her husband.

Rhys had been too angry with his wife to care or give thought to how she would react when she saw the severed head. Now he regretted it and regrets were rare for him.

She turned in his arms, resting her head against his chest, wishing she could erase the atrocious sight from her memory.

Rhys wrapped his arm around her and gently eased her along toward the door.

Pitt stood there and opened it as they approached and Heather realized he had been the one to enter the barn before, but then he was always there when Rhys needed him.

Rhys watched the faces of his people as they looked at his wife as he escorted her through the village. Tongues would wag, speculating over what she saw that left her ghostly pale and trembling in his arms. The servants in the keep stepped away as Rhys walked through the Great Hall with her.

Nessa was the only one with courage enough to approach him. “Is there anything I can do for my lady?”

“Bring more wine to my solar,” Rhys ordered as he hurried Heather out of the room. He sat her in the chair by the fire after entering his solar and when he went to release her hand, she grabbed it.

“Do not leave me.”

Her actions had him recalling a similar reaction right here in the solar after she had seen the bodies of the two dead warriors. She had seen too much evil of late, but this time it had been his fault. Rhys took tight hold of her hand. “I am not going anywhere. I just want to add more logs to the fire. You feel chilled.”

“I am,” she said and reluctantly let him go.