Tamed by a Laird (36 page)

She was so soft, and when she gasped again, her breasts swelled to fit his palms. Hugh wanted to strip her where she stood
and explore every silken inch of her with his hands and lips. However, being bare-chested himself and feeling the chill despite
the flickering little fire on the hearth, he knew she would soon feel it, too, if she was not freezing already.

He was hungry for her though, and not ready yet to take her to his bed. He wanted to enjoy her for a while first, right where
they were, and reveal some of the delights of her own body to her.

Briefly and with unexpectedly little emotion, his memory served up an image of his first time with Ella. How frightened she
had been! So young, and tearful. He had been young, too, but sensible enough even in youth to know that moving slowly was
good, and that being gentle was paramount.

He liked to savor his sexual experiences. But in truth, it had been long since one had meant anything to him other than the
fulfillment of a basic instinct.

Jenny was not tearful or scared. He did not know what she thought, but he sensed that she was curious and receptive to whatever
he might do. That thought stiffened his ever-interested cock until it pressed hard against the lacing of his breeks and began
to throb and ache. He hoped it would wait upon his pleasure, and hers.

He thumbed a nipple, watching her eyes and her always-expressive face. She had been watching him soberly as he bared her breasts
and studied them. But from the moment he’d touched their softness and she had gasped, she had looked only wide-eyed and perhaps
a little wary. Her breathing was shallow and quick.

Easing her closer until they were breast to chest, he stroked her back and gently pushed her shift lower until it caught at
the swell of her hips. Leaving it there, he shifted one hand to a bum cheek, gently squeezing it, certain that the skin there
would be as softly silken as it was everywhere else, even softer than the fine cambric shift that still concealed her nether
parts from him.

With his free hand, he cupped her chin and tilted it up so he could claim her soft lips. Tasting them lightly, he pressed
harder on her bottom, forcing her hips against his so she would feel what awaited her there.

When she moaned, he moved his hand from her chin to cup the back of her head, kissing her more hungrily, sucking and tasting
her lips, then parting them easily with his tongue and thrusting inside to explore the interior of her mouth.

He paid no heed to her hands until they slipped around to the small of his back and her right one dipped lower to squeeze
his left buttock. Then, groaning, he ground himself hard against her, aching so much for her that he could not think.

Awed by the sensations that swept through her when he touched her breasts and squeezed her buttock, Jenny had shut her eyes,
put her hands to his bare waist, and then daringly squeezed his backside.

She had hoped to make him moan a little as she had.

She had not expected him to react with such strength. Seconds later, when he swept her off her feet and headed for the bed,
her breath caught in her throat again.

Laying her down, he wasted no time in removing the rest of her clothing. Nor did he waste time with his own or ask for her
help. She was not sure if what she had done was a good thing or a bad thing, but she did not care.

She was far more interested in what he would do next.

He did take a moment to straighten the covers before he climbed in with her, but he did not lie back and hold her as he had
before. Instead, he leaned over her on one elbow, capturing her mouth again and stroking her breasts with his free hand, teasing
her nipples and stroking lower until his hand cupped her at the fork of her legs. Leaning closer then, as if he thought he
might have to hold her in place, he pressed a finger inside her, stroking her as he did, nearly to her undoing.

She arched hard against him, gasped, and cried out.

When she could speak, she gasped, “What… what are you doing?”

Close to her ear, he murmured soothingly, “I have not much control left, Jenny-love, and I wanted to make you ready for me.
But you are hot and ready now, I think. I’d just like to stretch you a little.”

To her own surprise, she chuckled low in her throat. “Good sakes,” she said. “I thought you were examining me.”

“I am, but only because I mean to examine every inch of you. You’re a beautiful woman, lass. Touching you is like stroking
fine, warm silk.”

She wanted to tell him all she was feeling, but she could not find the words. She could only let her body tell him with its
movements and moans how much she enjoyed what he was doing to her.

When he shifted his weight, she knew what was coming and welcomed it. He had teased her to a hunger she had never known, one
that only satisfaction could fulfill. When he pressed himself inside her, gently at first and then harder, hurting her and
stirring an ache she was sure she would never forget, she moaned louder and pressed closer to him, hoping to ease the aching.

He thrust harder then and faster until at last he must have worn himself out, because he collapsed atop her, panting, and
stayed so until his breathing eased.

Then he raised himself up on his elbows and smiled ruefully at her.

“I enjoyed that, lass. I hope I didn’t hurt you too much.”

“Nay,” she said, deciding it was not too much and if she told him it hurt, he might not want to do it again. She would endure
it whenever he liked as long as he could reproduce the other, much more wonderful feelings he had stirred first.

Hugh woke early at the sound of the latch. Seeing Lucas, he put a finger to his lips, waited until the man had nodded, set
down the lighted cresset he held, and vanished. Then Hugh gently tried to wake Jenny, who was sprawled on her stomach between
him and the wall.

She did not stir.

Sometime during the night, she had thrust a knee into his ribs, where he was sure he would have a bruise, but she had not
stirred then even when he shifted her knee to a safer position and snuggled her closer to him.

They definitely needed a bigger bed.

Picking up a strand of her hair, he tickled her nose with its ends. Her nose twitched, but she did not waken. Delighting in
the faces she made, he did it again.

“Stop that,” she muttered.

He did it again, and at last, she opened her eyes. They widened, and he knew she had only then remembered where she was and
how she had come to be there.

“Good morning,” he said, bending to kiss her nose.

She turned onto her back, stretching from head to toe like a kitten as she did. When she smiled at him, her dimples danced
and he kissed them, too. Then he found her mouth, and for a time after that, he forgot they had a boat to catch.

When he had sated his hunger for her, he remembered the boat and said, “Get up now, lass, and quickly. You’ve caused me to
waste too much time as it is. Make haste, or that boat will leave without us.”

“But I’m not the one who—”

“Aye, well, you’re too bonnie and you tempt me too sorely. Now, up! I’m going to shout for Lucas and you will want to be dressed
before he comes in.”

“You made me feel wonderful,” she said, languorously stretching again. “It scarcely hurt at all this time.”

“I thought you said it didn’t hurt last night,” he said, pulling on his breeks.

“Aye, well, it did,” she said. “But not today.”

She got up then and moved past him, bending to pick her shift up off the floor. As she did, he smacked her on her bare backside.

“Ow!” she exclaimed, rubbing the place. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you lied to me,” he said. “Don’t do it again.”

“Do I get to smack
you
if you lie to
me
?”

“Aye, you may,” he said. “Now get dressed.”

She stuck out her tongue at him and then moved hastily to obey.

Hugh shook his head at her but could not suppress a smile.

The sky was still a blanket of stars when the galley’s crew rowed from Annan’s port with the outgoing tide into Solway Firth.
There they shipped their oars and put up the sail. The galley made good speed sailing with the tide as it ebbed from the Firth
toward the Irish Sea.

Jenny had never been on a boat of any size before, or on water in the dark, and she reveled in the experience. She loved the
taste and smell of the salty air, and the sight of gulls dipping and whirling in search of fish as soon as it was light.

When the sun peeked over the eastern horizon revealing a cloudless sky, Hugh declared that he wanted to stretch his legs and
talk to the captain about what to expect when they reached Kirkcudbright.

“You stay here with Lucas, lass,” he said. “I shan’t be long.”

The bench near the stern was hard, but Jenny was glad to sit with Lucas.

“Thank you for seeing to my baggage this morning,” she said.

“ ’Twas nowt, m’lady,” he said.

“Well, it is not nowt to me,” she said. “Had you not brought me my cloak before we left, I doubt I’d have thought about it
until we reached the forecourt.”

He shot her a twinkling look from under his eyebrows. “Happen ye had other matters on your mind, mistress. Times, t’ laird
do be a handful.”

She chuckled, remembering the smack on her backside and wondering if Lucas might have been outside the door by then. She had
certainly yelped.

“You have been with the laird a long time, I expect.”

“Aye, nigh onto eight years now.”

“Only eight? I thought you must have been with him since he was a boy.”

“Nay, then, no so long as that.”

“Where did you meet him?”

He glanced toward the sea. Then, licking his lips, he looked at her and said, “I dinna talk about it much, but bein’ as ye’re
one of t’ family now, I expect he’ll tell ye ’imself—although I dinna doubt he’ll tell
his
tale and leave out t’ best bits.”

“Sakes, do you mean he might
lie
to me?” she asked hopefully, recalling that smack yet again, and his promise afterward.

“Nay, then, not to say lie,” Lucas said. “He’d just clean it up, like.”

“Tell me
your
tale then.”

“Aye, well, we met in Yorkshire—in t’ city of York, that was.”

“But Yorkshire is in England. What were you both doing there?”

“Me? I were born there. T’ laird were just a-visitin’, as ye might say.”

Enviously, she said, “I expect he has traveled many places, has he not?”

“Aye, so have we both,” Lucas said. “Even into France once.”

“Was he serving Archie the Grim then?”

“Happen ye might say he were, in a way.”

“Sakes, was he spying on the English
and
the French?”

“Nah then, not if ye mean were ’e listenin’ at doors and such,” Lucas said with a hasty glance in the direction Hugh had taken.
Relaxing again, he added, “He were just a-jawin’ wi’ folks about summat and nowt, like.”

“As ye might say,” Jenny said with a grin.

The twinkle glinted again in his eyes. “Aye, and what ’e learned in t’ city of York, amongst other bits, were that they was
a-meanin’ to hang me.”