Highlander Unraveled (Highland Bound Book 6) (8 page)

He pulled out, whirled me around, spreading my thighs around his hips and plunged in again. I held tight to him with my thighs, and he walked me backward, pressing my spine up against the wall.

“I like this cord,” he said.

I could only reply in a moan as the pressure he created between my thighs sent bolts of fiery pleasure rocketing through my veins, my muscles, and my nerves. Everything was on fire with delicious sensation.

Rory claimed my mouth with his. I wanted badly to grab hold of him, to run my fingers through his hair. To tug on his locks enough to cause a spark of pain. To rake my nails down his back. To grab hold of that luscious ass and sink my fingers into his flesh. I was at his mercy, holding tight to the silky cord and squeezing his hips with my thighs, and kissing him with everything I had—which was harder than I thought considering the pleasure flashing within me.

He nibbled my lips, scraped his cheek over mine, and bit my earlobe, murmuring, “God, ye’re incredible,
mo chridhe
.”

Just the words, the simple expression of enjoyment and pride set my fire to an even greater inferno.

He pounded harder, our skin making smacking sounds that echoed against the stone. Our moans whirled in the rafters and I was certain everyone within all of Dunleod knew exactly what we were doing, and that thought only sent my pleasure to greater heights.

Rory gripped my buttocks. Our skin was slick, covered with a sheen of perspiration and mingling with the wetness of my sex.

He bit my shoulder, licking and kissing then biting again.

I was on the edge of a climax, my body singing for release. “I’m so close,” I groaned, rocking my hips in time with his thrusts.

“I’ve half a mind to leave ye wanting,” he growled. “To let ye hang here, body on fire. Yearning for me to return to finish ye off.”

“No, no, no,” I begged. “Dinna leave me like that. I’ll go mad.”

Rory chuckled, and ceased his thrusts. Pressing his hips tight to mine, my buttocks flush to the stone wall. Insides pulsing.

“Just like this,” he said, hooded eyes meeting mine. “
Allll
day.”

I imagined it then. Me, tied to the bed in desperate need of his hands, mouth and cock. That wouldn’t do. Not without coming first.

I clenched the muscles of my vagina, gripping his cock inside me. “Two can play the game of torment.”

“Fuck,” he cursed, his forehead pressed to mine. “I canna. I canna stop…” And then he was pounding into me. Hard. Fast. A wild, primal warrior.

All of my muscles tightened, anticipating what was to come—
me.

I cried out as pleasure rocked me, jolting me from reality and into a world that only existed between the two of us.

Rory pressed me to the stone in earnest now, pounding deep inside me, his lips on my neck, hands on my ass, and then, he, too, was orgasming, the heat of his emission searing my insides.

Utterly limp, he untied me and carried me to the bed, where he tied my legs, spread wide, but left my hands free. I was still trembling.

“Why did you leave my hands free?” I asked.

He chuckled and winked. “Och, love. What ye could do with those hands…” Rory winked, then kissed me hard and deep until I was panting and trying to get him to climb into bed with me once more.

“Soon, love,” he said. “I will not be able to get a lick of work done knowing ye’re tied up here waiting for me. Pleasuring yourself…” His eyes slid to my parted thighs and the pink, wetness of my sex. “And this…” He slid a finger over me, making me jump. “I’ll be lucky to make it a quarter of an hour before I’m back.”

Chapter Eight

Rory

I made it
two
quarters of an hour, thirty minutes to be exact, before my cock rose to an excruciating point and images of Moira strapped to the bed refused to leave my mind.

What the hell was I doing down here anyway, going over ledgers again? It was a task that needed to be done, but who was I really tormenting? My wife, or myself?

Me thinks it was the latter, for I was burning with desire, need. Potent and harassing. When I checked the grain stores for winter, I saw the ties around the sacks, and all I could think about was the ties around her ankles. How she’d looked suspended from the cord in the ceiling, her legs wrapped around me, passion suffusing her flesh with a pink glow.

Aye, I needed to get back to her, and this time when I left her, I think I’d have to cry mercy, for I’d get no more work done knowing that she was laying up there waiting for me.

I let out a groan and slammed the papers down, marching toward the door with a single, sexual purpose in mind. Och, I was going to make love to her until neither of us could stand. Have our noon meal served in our chamber, maybe supper, too.

But when I opened the door, a guard stood poised to knock. The only person I
wanted
to see standing in my way was Moira—naked—not the guard who actually inhabited the space.

“What do ye want?” I growled.

He cleared his throat and shifted once on his feet. “There’s a messenger in the bailey for ye, my laird.”

I drew in a long breath of air and let it out in a rush, several thoughts going through my mind. One, I could simply tell the guard to bugger off and that I was busy, the messenger be damned. Two, I could tell him to get the messenger a hot meal until I was ready. Or three, I could just deal with the messenger now, no matter how irritating it would be given my cock was hard as the stone walls.

If I went with one, it wouldn’t bode well for the reputation I was trying hard to maintain within the clan. As it was, they’d been very patient with Moira and I, and our… bedchamber pursuits. And it would only feed Ranulf’s displeasure that I was his sire and the many reasons in which he should be let loose to wreak havoc once again. That was something I could not abide by.

If I went with two, I’d be distracted when I was with Moira, and that was the last thing I wanted when she was so eager to give and receive pleasure. Thinking about the messenger when I was with my wife was out of the question.

Bloody hell. Option three it was.

Mayhap the fresh air would do me good.

And, mayhap, upstairs, my wife was doing something altogether naughty. I wouldn’t want to interrupt her from that. Dammit, I actually would…

I grunted to the guard and pushed past him toward the main doors, shoving them open a little more forcefully than was necessary. I stood at the top of the keep stairs, glowering at the messenger who stood nervously in the bailey, the reins of his horse still in his hands, though he stood beside it. He looked to be about the same age as my son, and he was covered in a film of dirt and grime. I could smell his stench from where I stood. Either he was not very good at personal hygiene, or he’d ridden hard and fast to reach me.

“My laird,” he said before I’d addressed him.

My glower deepened, but he didn’t stop speaking, only attesting to his urgent message.

“Apologies, but ye must come quick. The Guardian, he needs ye.” The messenger met my gaze, pleading in his eyes.

The Guardian. Logan Grant. If he was summoning me, then it must be dire.

“What’s it in regards to?” I asked in the hopes the man had an idea.

“Your wife is also to come.” The messenger shook his head, slapped the side of it. “The lady, our mistress, she is missing.”

That one word,
missing
, had the ability to drain all the blood from my body, leaving it to pool in my boots, and I feared I’d sweat it right out of the bottom of my feet.

“Missing? What do ye know of this?”

“Not much. The laird woke in the night to find her gone. They searched the castle and surrounding grounds for hours and there is no sign of her.”

Ballocks!

Nay!

The very thing I feared myself… Moira going back to the future. I’d been back and forth; there was no telling when it would happen.

Had Emma been taken back? The messenger wouldn’t have that answer, but Logan might.

“Do they know who took her?” I asked, just in case.

The messenger shook his head. “Not a clue, my laird. Not one clue. ’Tis as if she vanished into thin air.”

Mo chreach
… ’Twas true.

“Get a meal, refresh your horse. We will pack and leave within the hour.”

The messenger thanked me. He handed his mount off to one of our stable lads, and then hurried around the back of the keep toward the kitchens. I blew out a breath, the heat that had been pummeling me for the past half hour gone and replaced with a cold as thick and frigid as ice.

Ever since I’d been brought back to the future, and I’d been able to hold Moira in my arms again, I knew it would be a crushing blow to be without her. I loved her deeply, more than I’d ever thought possible.

Och, and Logan had Emma with him for much longer. They’d just birthed a bairn. I couldn’t imagine the pain he must be suffering at that moment.

Thick, dark clouds moved over the blue of the sky, pressing in on the sun. Dark and formidable. Was Fate taunting me?

I turned slowly back toward the main doors and walked with heavy steps toward the keep. Inside, the light barely hit the walls, obscured by the narrowness of the windows and the dark clouds.

I stood at the bottom of the circular stair, counting the steps until they rounded out of sight. I didn’t want to go upstairs. I didn’t want to tell my wife that Emma, her good friend, was gone. Missing. Vanished into thin air. That there was the possibility that she, Moira, one day could be gone, too, even though we both knew it was a possibility and happened to us both before. Hell, Moira was from a different time than modern day anyway. Hundreds of years in the past. And who knew what the time difference would be. Could be catastrophic.

When I’d gone to the future, only a couple days passed in my mind, but
years
passed in the Highlands. Five long years to be exact. Five years I’d lost and could never regain.

If time caught up with my wife, she’d long since have turned to dust. And me, too, for that matter, if I ended up in the future.

If my son, Ranulf, were ever to find out the fact that I’d time traveled, that I could disappear at any moment, along with my lady wife—a missing royal princess—his argument against me being chief of the MacLeod clan would be secured. Or else, the clan would think him mad. Or me. Who knew?

Either way, I couldn’t risk it.

“Ballocks,” I ground out and lifted my foot onto the first stair, but I couldn’t make myself go any further.

I stood there, half suspended.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling a cold sweat break out at my temples and along my spine. We were leaving within the hour. I had to go upstairs. Had to tell her what was happening. She needed to get dressed, to pack. I needed to pack. We needed provisions. There was much to be done, and I wasn’t doing any of it just standing there.

“My laird?” Tomas, my steward, appeared from the darkness of the corridor, approaching with hesitation. His eyes shifted back and forth as he warily approached me. “Is ought amiss?”

I cleared my throat, shoving all the emotions tangled inside me somewhere else. “Lady Moira and I will be leaving within the hour with a dozen men.”

“What’s happened? Pardon my asking, my laird.”

I waved away Tomas’ manners. I’d yet to make any of the warriors a second in command, so while I was gone, Tomas was in charge.

“The Guardian has called me to service. I hope we will not be gone long. The clan is to come to ye should they need anything.”

“Ye’re leaving me as acting laird?” Tomas raised a brow. No doubt, he thought it was odd that I’d yet to name a second, but he had to understand.

“Aye,” I said with conviction.

Tomas nodded solemnly. “I will do my best in honoring your wishes, my laird. And what of Ranulf?”

I let out a deep sigh. “Can ye handle him? Keep him training? Or is it best for him to remain detained in his chamber? I dinna want the lad to cause trouble for ye. There will be enough of that.”

I loathed the fact that I had to lock my own son up. But he was a danger to himself and others, Moira in particular. I’d seen the sneers he’d passed her way. Heard the threats he’d hissed about burning her at the stake. The lad had attempted to take my head more than once during training, not to mention when I’d had to challenge him in front of the clan at Gealach. I felt bad for him, too. He thought I’d dishonored his mother. He didn’t know the truth. Poor lass. God rest her soul.

Though Ranulf hated me, I thought he might also resent that Moira had been my replacement for his mother in my mind. Perhaps when he’d learned that I’d loved Abi, he’d thought I sullied her name by loving another. Who knew? I’d contemplated the reasons behind his anger for so many hours, I could have watched the seasons turn.

“I can handle him,” Tomas said.

“If ye find him to be unmanageable, ye have my permission to keep him in his chamber. Be sure that there are two guards with him at all times. He’s been waiting for a moment to escape. With my absence, will likely come his courage to see it through.”

“Aye, my laird. What else may I assist ye with in your absence?”

I could barely think. All I wanted to do was go upstairs and grasp Moira in my arms, but Tomas, and the entire clan, depended on me to keep it together. “The normal duties. Keep track of the plantings and harvest. Market day. Ledgers. Dispensing of coin if necessary. If need be judgments for the crofters, but if it can wait, please let it. If any messages come, and they are urgent, please forward them on to Gealach.”

“Aye, my laird.”

“As soon as I ascertain the situation at Castle Gealach, I will send word so ye have a better idea of when we will be returning. ’Tis my sincerest hope that we are returned within a fortnight, a month at most.”

Tomas pressed his hand to his heart. “The clan and lands will be in good hands, ye have my word. I shall honor ye, my laird. Ye and our lady.”

“I never doubted it.” Tomas was the only man I’d learned to trust fully. There were a few guards, aye, but many more that I questioned their loyalty. Most of the men had known me previously, but of those men, at least half believed I’d abandoned the clan when I’d left after my uncle’s death, years before. But they didn’t understand. How could I have stayed when I feared his death was on my hands?

When I returned from this trip, I was going to have to put each and every one of them in their place. They needed to respect me as their laird or find another clan that would accept them. No longer could I walk around wondering who was loyal and who held a secret grudge. I was laird. I needed to act as such.

Tomas stared at me a moment longer, expecting something more. I’d been putting off going upstairs and now it was obvious I was putting off dismissing him, too.

Mo chreach
. I needed to go to Moira. Needed to tell her what happened. Already a good quarter hour had passed. We had even less time to get ready to depart now.

“That is all, Tomas. If ye would see a bag of provisions packed for us and the men?”

“Aye, my laird.”

I didn’t wait for Tomas to leave, I turned my back on him and took the stairs three at a time, reaching the level that housed our bedchamber. The door was locked and I pulled the key from around my neck to unlock it.

Moira lay on the bed, a mischievous grin on her delicious lips as she sat up to take me in.

“You weren’t able to last very long,” she teased, but then, taking note of my grim look, she sat straight up, her face paling. “What’s happened?”

Rather than beat around the bush like I wanted to, I simply came out with it. “Emma is missing. The messenger says it’s as though she vanished. No clue as to who could have taken her.”