Prisoner of Desire (5 page)

‘W-why?’ Isobel struggled up and folded her legs underneath her as he turned back to face her. ‘Do you...do you want me in the bed?’ She blushed hotly as she asked the question, wishing fervently that the idea of returning to the bed with Alasdair was not as tempting as she seemed to find it.

‘No, my lovely; as appealing as that idea and your obvious eagerness to come to my bed is, I have something else in mind for you now, for yet again you have disobeyed me, Isobel!’ Alasdair crouched down next to her and unlocked the manacle. ‘Why is it, lass, that you seem so determined to make this so difficult for yourself?’

Isobel swallowed hard as he helped her to her feet, and of their own volition her lips parted, seeming to Alasdair to invite the kiss that he was suddenly so desperate to deliver to them. Despite the fact that he had only released her in order to punish her, he could not resist the compulsion to draw her into his arms, moulding their bodies together and groaning heavily as she responded to him, tentatively at first but her passion soon soaring to match his, the lingering effects of the arousal she had stirred in herself only increasing her yearning for him.

‘Ah, no, wench!’ Alasdair finally said with another pained groan, detaching himself and turning Isobel to face away from him, though his arms were still possessively tight around her stomach. ‘No, you will not distract me from punishing you!’

‘Was it not you who kissed me, Alasdair?’ Isobel replied breathlessly, her legs trembling as she leant back against him and reflected once more with a sad, rueful smile that he could not see upon the way that her body reacted to his proximity – her need for him only seemed to grow with every moment they spent together, the wrongs he had done to her seeming to fade from her mind each time they touched.

‘And there is that spirit that I so admire in you, my lovely!’ he exclaimed approvingly, caressing her face before taking her by the hand and leading her, not to the bed, but towards the staircase that led back to the hall.

Finally realising where it was that he was taking her, still naked and wholly exposed, Isobel pulled and strained against his tight grip with rising panic. ‘Alasdair – the other men – no!’ she begged, shuddering deeply.

Making what sense he could of her garbled plea, Alasdair reached across to put his free hand under her chin, tilting it up and towards him so that she was looking directly into his eyes. ‘Isobel, Isobel!’ he chided her gently. ‘Have I not already said that you will not be given to the men to use in that way?’

‘You told me that if I came to you then you would not allow my women to be used in that way, but you lied about that,’ Isobel said bitterly. ‘How can you possibly expect me to believe you, Alasdair?’

‘Because you are not one of the other women, Isobel – you are
mine
, inescapably so!’ he swore, fiery arousal and jealous, protective desire burning in his eyes as he spoke. ‘I care nothing for them; they are simply part of Glen Carrick, no more than that to me, but you...’

Confused by his words, Isobel looked up at him uncertainly. ‘What am I to you, Alasdair?’ she asked softly. ‘Am I not just a part of Glen Carrick as well, your conqueror’s prize?’

‘You...’ Alasdair’s mouth was suddenly dry, and he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. ‘You are mine, Isobel,’ he finally finished simply, putting his arm around her waist and guiding her back towards the doorway.

‘Then why are you taking me to the hall for the other men to gain pleasure from seeing my bare form, Alasdair?’ she demanded with a low sob that she could not hold back.

‘Because, my Isobel, you need to learn that if only you begin to obey me and accept my mastery of you, we will both be far happier! Until that time comes, then I will have to continue to punish and shame you in the only way that I can without causing you lasting harm. You are a beautiful lass, Isobel, and even the mere sight of you unclad is enough to bring my men to their pleasure; you forced us into a long, hard battle to win Glen Carrick, wench, and in this manner I can offer them some small reward at the same time as punishing you.’

Tears were rolling down Isobel’s face, but she allowed him to steer her towards the spiralling stone steps that led down to the hall. The sight she saw when Alasdair propelled her into the hall was enough to bring forth a loud gasp of horror; clearly, the men had taken Alasdair at his word last night and entertained themselves greatly with the women that had been left so defenceless.

Holding her head high, Isobel fought back her tears as Alasdair walked her towards the top table where Douglas, amongst others, was sprawled in a chair keeping a close watch upon the hall. ‘There were no problems whilst I slept, I presume?’ Alasdair demanded of him as he pulled Isobel to a stop at his side and slipped a possessive arm around her again.

‘Of course not, Alasdair – I am more than capable of keeping these women under control,’ Douglas replied with a cruel grin as Isobel flinched. ‘Has your lovely lady been misbehaving again, or is there some other reason why you have brought her here in all her fine glory?’

‘I feel that she could do with learning her lesson a little better, yes,’ Alasdair said coolly, his hand drifting downwards to caress Isobel’s still reddened buttocks. ‘Isobel, up onto the table now, if you please,’ he commanded her with a shudder of lust.

‘The table?!’ Isobel shook her head, for though she knew her further disobedience could only enrage Alasdair, the idea of climbing up onto the raised table so that there could be no concealment from the lewd, bawdy men who had invaded Glen Carrick was excruciating. ‘Alasdair, please –’

Flushing as she dared to defy him again in front of all his men, Alasdair pushed Isobel towards the table and bent her roughly over the edge of it, forcing her face into the table so that her buttocks protruded into the air as he took up position next to her. ‘Oh, my lovely lass, why can you not just do it to please me?’ he asked softly, shaking his head in regret as he drew back his hand and spanked her firmly once more.

Isobel cried out, but still she stubbornly refused to do as he commanded, instead slumping against the table and accepting the blows he struck her, for just as had been the case yesterday, they spent electric thrills of lust rushing through her body. It was very apparent to Alasdair that she was near to climaxing again, and he finally stopped the torrent of blows and gently parted her folds to slip his fingers inside her, tensing up with a low groan when she moaned loudly and pushed down against him.

‘Won’t you get up on the table now, my lovely?’ he whispered, leaning forwards to speak directly into her ear. ‘All I want you to do for me is what you were doing upstairs; just touch yourself and give yourself over to that exquisite pleasure that is so near. It won’t take long at all, Isobel, I am certain.’

Still, though, she shook her head, trembling heavily as she kept her face turned into the table.

‘You need yet more persuasion?!’ Alasdair said incredulously. ‘Very well, Isobel, we shall do this your way. Douglas – the lady that cried out to my Isobel when she emerged from her hiding place yesterday, where is she?’

Isobel froze as Douglas laughed loudly, the sound of his footsteps fading away telling her that he was crossing the hall to fetch the woman to Alasdair’s side. Trying to ignore her rising nausea, for she belatedly realised that she had neither eaten nor drunk a single morsel for over a day, she slowly turned around to look over her shoulder as Douglas dragged the young woman across the hall by her hair.

‘So,’ Alasdair murmured, pulling Isobel into his arms and turning her to face outwards, idly caressing her breasts as she leaned back against him, afraid that if she did not her legs would be unable to support her weight. ‘Who is this little wench to you, my lovely? Are you going to tell me freely, or must I have the truth beaten out of her?’

Convinced that Alasdair’s threat was sincere, Isobel moistened her lips nervously as he gazed down at her. ‘She...she is my c-cousin, Catriona,’ she owned hesitantly, and Alasdair smiled encouragingly.

‘You see, my lovely? It is not so hard to please me, is it? Yes, I see now that you are related – she has not your beauty, of course, but she is a pretty lass nonetheless. Do you care for her, my Isobel?’

‘She is my cousin, Alasdair! Of course I care for her –’

‘Isobel, stop!’ Catriona called, her dark eyes flashing wildly. ‘Whatever it is that he wants to force you into, don’t give in to him, lass – I can handle whatever punishment they dole out!’

‘Yes, she is a sturdy wench, this Catriona, don’t you think, Douglas?’ Alasdair interrupted calmly, still holding Isobel tightly against his body. ‘My lady is a delicate, slender young creature, but even she has taken far more than I would have thought possible. I wonder how much her stronger cousin could bear?’

Douglas leered at Catriona, ripping her gown open and thrusting his hand down into the torn material to grope at her buttocks. ‘I would certainly take the responsibility for finding out, Alasdair – you know I have an impressive stamina, but I fear that my lust would lead me to lose control. Would you be very angry if I caused her harm?’

‘One less screeching woman makes no difference to me, Douglas, so long as I still have my Isobel in my arms,’ Alasdair said dismissively. ‘I suspect, though, that perhaps Isobel feels differently –’

‘You know I feel differently, brute!’ Isobel interrupted, her voice breaking as Catriona’s face contorted, for Douglas was still pawing eagerly at her, his fingers assaulting her in every possible way as he awaited Alasdair’s permission.

‘Then it is a very easy choice, darling, surely?’ Alasdair said, his voice becoming tender again. ‘Your pleasure, or your cousin’s pain – how can you deny me?’

‘You know I cannot.’ Ignoring Catriona’s continued protests, Isobel closed her eyes and allowed Alasdair to lift her onto the table and arrange her as he wanted, laying her so that she was stretched out on her back for all to see.

‘My beautiful lass,’ he said softly, leaning forwards and kissing her lips as he spoke. ‘Wait until I am settled in my chair behind you, please.’

Finally following his command without protest, Isobel rolled her head to the side to watch Alasdair as he strode around the table to sit down behind Isobel, unfastening his breeches to free his throbbing cock from its restraints before leaning forwards. ‘As you were then, darling, please,’ he begged.

Isobel closed her eyes and tried to forget everyone that was watching her apart from Alasdair, for somehow the realisation of how much pleasure he was taking in watching her was a strange, secret thrill that only increased her own pleasure. As she reached down, though, Alasdair stretched out to lay his hand on her arm. ‘Isobel, open your eyes for me – I want you to look at me and know that you are thinking only of me as you climax,’ he commanded, heat rushing through his body as she reluctantly did as he asked and looked up at him through her darkened, heavy-lidded eyes.

Releasing her arm, he sat back and watched her face intently as she began to moan loudly, for Isobel was unable to hold herself back when her entire body was aching, consumed by the need for her climax. Alasdair was mutely urging her on, his fist moving rapidly up and down his cock and his breathing becoming fast and heavy as Isobel shuddered, her breasts raising up and swelling as she began to pant for breath. Finally, with an explosive and breathtaking force, her climax came, and she sobbed out her pleasure as she instinctively rolled onto her side and reached out her arms towards Alasdair.

Light-headed and dizzy with desire, he lifted her from the table and did exactly what she wanted but had dared not ask for – Alasdair took her into his arms and slammed her down onto his cock, gasping loudly, for her climax was still ripping through her body as he did so, and the sensation of it around his cock was beyond exquisite. Gathering Isobel up against his chest, he murmured incomprehensible words of passion as, entirely exhausted, she laid her head on his shoulder and allowed Alasdair to thrust into her over and over until his climax too arrived just moments later.

Holding her tightly with one arm and kissing her lips, Alasdair shrugged off his shirt and draped it around her protectively before beckoning to the panting men for some food and drink to be brought to them, for he realised with a stab of guilt that he had not seen Isobel eat or drink at all since his arrival. ‘You must be hungry, my lovely?’ he murmured as she leaned her head back to look at him in confusion.

‘Yes, I am, Alasdair, but –’

‘But nothing, darling. You have been a very good girl for me, Isobel, so now allow me to care for you as is my right.’ Raising a goblet of water to her lips, he held it in place as she gulped thirstily, allowing her to drain it before setting it back down on the table and reaching for a hunk of bread. ‘Isobel, can you manage any more than this, or will this satisfy you for now?’

‘This is plenty, thank you,’ Isobel assured him, covering her mouth and yawning, for despite the long sleep she had had the previous night, she had barely slept at all in the past week whilst defending the keep against Alasdair; and now that her adrenalin was draining away, she realised how exhausted she was. Slipping her arms into the sleeves of the long shirt, she allowed him to feed her until it became clear that she could barely hold her eyes open.

‘A bath for you, my Isobel, and then you may climb into my bed to sleep, I think,’ he suggested, surprising even himself with the tenderness in his voice. ‘You are clearly tired, darling, and you have performed so admirably for your new master and lord that he is very pleased with you indeed. You have earned your rest, and I shall not disturb you again until you have begun to recover.’