His Bonnie Bride (16 page)

"Nay, Tavis. I mean to show ye that until ye turn me away, 'tis only your bed I wish to share no matter whose beauty I might appreciate with my eyes." She took his hand to her mouth, kissing the palms before tracing each finger with her tongue, repeating the gesture on the other hand as she spoke. "These are the only hands I wish to know my secrets, the only ones I want upon my skin." She kissed him. "This is the only mouth I wish upon mine. The only lips I want to taste me." She moved her kisses to his chest. "This is the only pillow I need for my head." She let her tongue play around his navel. "Here is the only belly I want to press against mine, move against it in the most intimate of rhythms." Her teeth nipped gently at his thighs. "These are the only legs I wish entwined with mine, pushing my thighs apart so that this can find its way within me to fill me, satisfy for the moment a hunger that seems to always be with me and drive me to that paradise only ye can take me to."

Tavis gasped, bending over as her tongue teased the length of his manhood. His breath came in ragged gasps as her tongue curled around him, stroked and teased, leaving none of the intimate area unexplored. He doubted she would perform that final intimacy, but cared little at the moment, for his control was already strained near to the breaking point.

Suddenly Storm was grasped beneath her arms and jerked to her feet. To her surprise they did not lie down upon the bed, but he pulled her onto his lap so that she straddled him as she knelt facing him. A gasp that was a mixture of shock and pleasure escaped her as he eased their bodies together.

His hands cupping her buttocks, he directed her movements until she caught on. He kissed her hungrily, his tongue plunging deeply as his hands moved over her. When he could tear his eyes from the way her lithe form moved upon him or the passion so evident upon her face, his lips feasted upon her breasts. As she cried out, her tremors indicating her release, he grasped her hips to hold her to him, but there was no need. She pressed down upon him, her slim hips rotating gently, increasing the intensity of his own release. Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in her breasts and rocked gently as pleasure washed over him and he slowly returned to normalcy.

"God, so good. 'Twas so good." He felt her inner muscles flex and murmured with pleasure. "Nice. Ye are the best I have e'er enjoyed." His gaze settling upon the point where they were still joined, his hands gently rotated her hips, and he felt himself grow taut with a renewed passion. "Ye were made for this, for pleasuring a man."

Storm was surprised by how quickly he was ready to enjoy her again. She was equally surprised at how ready she was to enjoy him as well. With a throaty laugh, she gave herself over to the mutual greed.

The gray light of dawn was filtering into the room when Tavis suddenly found himself awake. A tautness in his loins told him why. Lifting his head from the satiny breast it was pillowed against, he stared thoughtfully at the sleeping Storm as his need grew steadily.

He had no more worries about Alexander MacDubh. She had convinced him that, as long as he still wanted her, she would share no other man's bed. Tavis felt a definite sense of male pride.

It was replaced by an angry regret. Here was a woman he would feel no qualms about taking to wife. Not only would he have no fears of being cuckolded, but he would not need to seek out another woman, go through all the trouble and expense of seduction and tokens of appreciation. Storm's passion and lack of inhibition in the bedroom would be enough to keep him faithful. There was not the greed, dishonesty or hardness in her that had driven him from one woman to another. It was all for naught, however, for there could never be such a connection between their families.

Shaking off a sudden pain-ridden sense of depression, he eased the covers off of her, letting his gaze linger as he pleased, where he pleased. At last his gaze settled upon the juncture of her slim thighs and, rising, he parted her legs slightly and knelt between them.

There was one thing he had long wanted to do, but had held back in respect for her innocence, increasing the intimacies he took gradually. It was an act that he had rarely performed, but had ached to do so since he had first made love to her. He realized with a start that one reason was because he was assured of her cleanliness. Although he had not consciously noted it, a number of the women he had bedded over the years were plainly not all that fond of soap and water. Many truly believed it unhealthy to immerse oneself in water or to bathe with any regularity. Storm washed daily, and he liked that.

Bending, he saluted her breasts, watching as the nipples hardened in response to his tongue's ministrations. She murmured sleepily and stirred, but her eyes did not open as he made his way slowly down her body. His hand went to the heart of her and his eyes went from his fingers, where they tangled in the copper curls, to her face to watch as she and her passion slowly awakened. Suckling gently at her breasts, he let his fingers probe and caress her with a boldness she had not allowed before. When he judged her nearly awake, struggling to sort dream from reality, his gaze returned to the treasures his hands were fully enjoying, watching for a moment as his fingers continued their play. With caressing hands upon her thighs, he spread her legs wider and touched his lips to the center of her passion. When she did not flinch away as once before he knew his unorthodox methods had gained him his prize, and he proceeded to fully savor the sweetness of her.

Storm had sensed his touch early on in the game. Even as she had continued to wake up, her passion gaining strength, she had enjoyed the sense of being in a dream world. It had allowed her to luxuriate in caresses that were bolder than he had made before. When his lips first touched her so intimately the sense of being in a dream kept her from tensing, allowing her to enjoy the pleasure her reticence had denied her. By the time she realized he was lingering as he had never done before, she was already caught in a nearly overwhelming passion, needing the hands that kneaded her backside, holding her steady, as she writhed beneath his intimate caresses.

Again and again he brought her to the very brink of release until she clutched at his shoulders in near desperation. "Please,
acushla,
no more. I need ye, my
fona."
She shuddered with pleasured relief as he slowly possessed her.
"Cushlamochree."

She clung to him as he sent her spiraling into that land only lovers discover. Her name broke from his lips as he drove deeply to find his own release while she was still in the tight grip of hers. It was awhile before he had the energy to break off their intimate embrace, turn onto his back and pull her into his arms. His fingers traced the newly healed wound on her shoulder, which had kept him in her bed but out of her arms and had added to his current greed for her. Briefly he thought about apologizing for his accusations about Alexander, but he fell into a sated sleep before he could get the words out.

"I love ye, Tavis," Storm whispered, knowing he could not hear her, smiled at her foolishness and, snuggling up to him, joined him in sleep.

Tavis heartily wished that he had not agreed to Storm's plan as he looked at her. The lad's outfit she now wore showed her soft curves far too plainly. His men would enjoy themselves, and he was not fond of that knowledge at all. He recognized his possessiveness but told himself that any man would feel so about a woman who gave him so much pleasure in the night and had never done so with any other man. It was a natural feeling that sprang from being the first and the only.

"Ye are looking at me most strangely, Tavis," Storm commented as she tied back her hair.

"I was just thinking that, for a skinny lass, ye are showing a muckle lot of curves."

Storm fought down a blush. " 'Tis a bit snug, but it will serve. I so long for a ride."

"Are ye sure your shoulder is up to it?"

He grabbed her by the hair, gently tugging her into his arms.

"Ye did not seem concerned about it last night. Nay, nor this morning."

His lips twitched. "Aye, weel, mayhaps I think ye have done enough riding and need a wee rest."

Pulling free of his hold, Storm started out of the room, remarking haughtily, "Ye are a very vulgar man, Tavis MacLagan. Ye have no concept of how to speak to a lady."

"Show me a lady and my gallantry will ken no bounds," he retorted from a safe distance behind her , and met the glare she shot him over her shoulder with a wide grin.

It was not to his liking to watch the looks the men gave Storm as she strolled out to the stables. Even his dark visage as he strolled beside her did not stop them, only made them look amused or all too knowing. Despite it all, Tavis could not help but feel some pride in the fact that the woman who shared his bed was plainly desirable to a number of men. He also knew that their interest was not all of a carnal nature, but of respectful curiosity about a person who had proven herself, winning people to her side despite the fact that she was an Eldon and English.

Phelan looked her over as they mounted. "Ye do not look much like a boy, cousin."

"Thank ye, Phelan," she said with a grin. " 'Tis a relief to me to know that."

"Do not take them too far, Angus. 'Tis her first ride since her wounding," Tavis advised.

Angus nodded, and Tavis watched them ride out. Storm rode well, and Tavis recognized that she was plainly well accustomed to riding astride. She was rapidly destroying his conceptions about proper English ladies. Lord Eldon had clearly raised his daughter with a light and loving hand. It was a side of the man Tavis was not sure he wanted to know.

A short gallop was all Angus allowed, but Storm did not mind. She realized she had not regained the full strength she needed to control a racing horse for any distance. It was pleasant just to be riding. Angus was a lenient guard, for he had their promise not to try and escape while out on their rides, and he knew their word was bond enough.

When they reached the shores of a loch they dismounted, save for Phelan. With Angus's permission, he disappeared to survey as much of the shore as possible.

The boy was still gone when Angus's and Storm's childish game of skipping stones was rudely interrupted by a highly unwelcome source. For the first time in her life, Storm was not pleased to see a rescue party from Hagaleah. Instinct told her she would be far safer staying with the Eldons' old enemy.

There was no time to mount and flee. She and Angus were quickly encircled and Angus, with his sword drawn against the dozen well-armed men, stood protectively before Storm. Storm wondered how Sir Hugh had known to come to the loch, their usual place to pause while on a ride, and the name Katerine MacBroth came to mind. It was the type of thing the woman would do for, with her gone, Storm felt sure Katerine was justified in thinking that she would soon be back in Tavis's bed. He was not a man to go very long without a woman.

"Kill him," Sir Hugh ordered casually, nodding toward Angus.

"Nay!" Storm put herself between the men of Hagaleah and Angus. "Ye don't need to kill him. Just take his horse and leave him bound. 'Twill be a fair long while ere he is found."

"Where's the Irish brat?" asked Sir Hugh, signaling his men to do as Storm said, thinking it could be to his advantage to placate her in this matter.

Storm watched as Angus gave up after a brief struggle and allowed himself to be tied up. It was a relief to know he would not be hurt. Plainly, he, too, had recalled that Phelan was near. With luck, the boy would continue to stay away. Phelan was definitely better off at Caraidland.

"He stayed at the keep today. There were doings there that interested him."

Sir Hugh looked Storm over with obvious contempt. "You dress the whore as well as act it. Get on your horse. An it were not for your fortune, I would leave you here to serve this border scum."

Whatever resistance she felt was useless as one of Sir Hugh's men grabbed her and tossed her into the saddle, handing her reins to Sir Hugh. Before she could say any of the words that burned in her mouth they were off at a gallop. She had to fight to maintain her seat, and it was not long before her shoulder began to protest. This was not the way she wanted to come home to Hagaleah.

Phelan appeared at Angus's side as soon as Sir Hugh had left. He had known to stay away, not only to aid Angus but to be free to help Storm. His stay at Hagaleah had shown him that she was not safe there. It was not only the dismal prospect of her being forced to wed Sir Hugh that troubled him. Phelan had the strongest feeling that Storm would never survive that marriage. Sir Hugh would enjoy the role of a rich widower.

Tavis was just stepping into the bailey when Angus and Phelan returned astride one horse. "Sir Hugh?" he asked when they came up to him. "How in Hades did he know where and when to strike? I refuse to believe that any of our people told him, but I nay doubt that he was told."

"Aye," agreed Angus. "It were too neat." He cleared his throat. "I was thinking jealousy could weel breed a traitor."

A black scowl touched Tavis's handsome face. "Aye. Katerine would do it, burn her eyes." He turned on his heel and strode back into the tower house, Angus and Phelan right behind him, telling him all that had happened. " 'Tis glad I am ye suffered no hurt, Angus. It would all have been for naught." Entering the great hall, he told his brothers and father what had occurred. "There goes the ransom."

"Are ye just going to leave her with Sir Hugh?" Phelan demanded as Tavis sprawled on a bench and got himself a large tankard of ale. "Ye don't know how it is. He will kill her. I know it."

"Nay, laddie. The man wants to marry the lass. He is hot for her fortune. Aye, and a thing or twa otherwise." Colin noted the way Tavis's face tightened. "He will want his bride alive."

"Aye, but not his wife." Phelan nodded vigorously when that remark caught their attention. "Once he has had a bit o' the other and tired of it, 'tis a widower he will be. That is not all. Ye do not know the man. After he is finished with my cousin she will be fair glad to be killed. Hagaleah abounds in the battered recipients of his sort of loving."