The Craving (Rogues of Scotland #1) (5 page)

Meg was surprised Ronan joined her as she visited the sick tenants. She hated the way her body responded to him, loathed how she tried to brush against him in any effort to feel him. She was pathetic in her need to be near him, and yet she refused to send him away.

As if he would do what she wanted. Ronan was stubborn and thick headed. He would do whatever it was he wished. She was thrilled that for the moment she was some kind of fascination for him. It wouldn’t last, which was why she would soak it up now. 

Her arm heated where she knew his gaze landed. The heat traveled to her neck, and then to her chest. Her breasts swelled and her nipples tightened. Just knowing he was watching her made her heartbeat accelerate.

“Where are the parents from the last cottage we visited?” he asked.

Meg swallowed twice, trying to get moisture back to her mouth. She was grateful for the change of subject. She didn’t want to think about her life without a husband or children. All she had ever wanted was a family of her own to cherish. 

“Their mother died last winter trying to bring another babe into the world. The babe didn’t make it either. The father was desolate after his wife died, which is understandable. He spent his nights drinking away his pain. It caused him to fall and break his ankle when he was trying to bring in some sheep.”

“How long until he gets back on his feet?”

Meg gave a little shrug. “A few more weeks. I know there is a young girl from a neighboring cottage that comes over when she can to cook and look after the young ones.”

Ronan nodded as he listened, his gaze intent upon the road before them.

She darted her gaze to him. He might be willing to do common work, but there was nothing common about Ronan. He stood straight and powerful, commanding and forceful. It was obvious that he was used to being in control.

“Who were you?” Meg asked. “Before the curse. What did you do?”

He laughed and glanced at her. “I did what any good Highlander does, lass. I fought my enemies and protected my clan.”

“But who were you? You walk like a man used to being in charge, a man who made his own rules.”

“That’s because I did.” He gave her a crooked smile to ease the harshness of his words.

Meg was more curious than ever. She didn’t recognize the tartan he wore, but clans would subtly change their plaids for reasons like banishments, marriages, and such.

She watched Ronan out of the corner of her eye. There was no denying his confidence, his air of authority. No man, not even a Highlander, got that without being born into it.

“You were no crofter’s son,” Meg said. “You were son to the laird.”

If she hadn’t been looking for any reaction, Meg would have missed the slight tightening of his muscles.

“A good guess, but no’ quite true.”

“It makes sense,” she stated.

Ronan pierced her with his pale green eyes. “So it would seem.”

“Why do you want to hide that fact?”

“I wasna the laird’s son. I was his nephew. And it’s a good thing my father wasna laird. My mother had him twisted around her finger so tightly all he could see was her.”

Meg swallowed at the hatred she heard in Ronan’s voice, though she wasn’t sure if it was toward his mother or father. She guessed it was because of his mother. “Is that why you disdain women so much?”

Her question caused him to throw back his head and laugh. “Disdain? Lass, I love women. Why do you think I was cursed?”

Meg took the trail branching off from the road, undeterred by his words. His laugh was too loud, too long. “You despise women. You regard us as a means to ease your body, but you find no other need for us.”

She stopped him with a hand on his arm before he could respond. After taking a loaf of bread and meat wrapped in a towel, Meg made her way to the door of the cottage.

This was the only place Aunt Tilly had begged her to visit daily. Not that the old woman who lived there ever said much to Meg, but it was such a small request. 

Meg gave a sharp knock, only to have the door open immediately. She smiled, noting how the black eyes of the woman stared at her for long moments before looking over her shoulder to Ronan.

“This will get you through tomorrow, Ina,” Meg said as she handed over the items. “Cook is making soup, and I’ll be sure to have some brought over for you.”

Ina’s gaze came back to her before she promptly closed the door in Meg’s face. With a shrug, Meg turned and walked back to Ronan.

“Who is that woman?” he asked.

Meg glanced over her shoulder to the cottage to find Ina peering at them from her window. “I don’t really know. She’s important to Aunt Tilly. Why?”

“She has the look of a gypsy about her.”

They spent the rest of the morning in companionable silence visiting the remaining cottages. By the time the basket was empty, thunder was rumbling at a steady rate.

“I doona think we’ll make it back to the castle before it rains.”

Meg sighed loudly. “I was hoping we would, but we have at least three miles to walk before we get to the castle.”

“Why no’ take a horse. It would be quicker.”

“It would, but I like to walk.”

There was another rumble of thunder before a crack of lightning made Meg jump. Not a heartbeat later it began to rain. 

“Is there shelter nearby?” Ronan asked.

Meg knew of only one. The abandoned cottage deep in the woods. “Aye. I’ll show you.”

She took off at a run. To her surprise, Ronan grabbed her hand as she lifted her sodden skirts and dashed into the forest. She slipped on damp leaves and earth, but Ronan easily kept her on her feet.

A laugh escaped her. For the first time in...years...she felt lighthearted and...free. It was a glorious feeling. 

Meg looked up through the trees at the rain falling and never saw the rock. Both legs came out from beneath her. A cry welled up in her throat, and just as suddenly, she was hauled against a rock-hard chest.

She didn’t know how much time passed as she stared at Ronan’s bare chest. When she did look up into his eyes, there was a fire burning there.

It caused her heart to skip a beat and something seductive and erotic unfurl low in her belly.

But it frightened her too.

The stark desire was there for her to see. Ronan held nothing back. There were no false words, no lies, no empty promises.

There was just him.

His hand settled on her chest above her breasts, and then he slowly caressed up her neck to cup her cheek. All the while his head lowered to hers.

Meg should turn away. She knew it, but her body wouldn’t listen. Ronan only wanted to ease his own desires. He cared nothing for her.

What does it matter? Why can’t I have such pleasure in my miserable life?

As soon as the thought flitted through her mind, the last vestiges of her restraint vanished. Meg watched the water run down the hard planes of Ronan’s face. She parted her lips and let her eyes drift shut. The first brush of his mouth against hers was but a touch. The second was more purposeful, as he pressed his lips to hers.

Meg could feel herself melting against him. Then his tongue slid along the seam of her lips. She gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

It was the moan, the hard, needy moan pulled from deep within him that left her trembling for more. When he turned her slightly in his arms and opened his lips wider, Meg followed suit.

She sighed as their tongues met, tangled. The attraction between them exploded into hot flames of desire. He deepened the kiss, pulling her against him until she could feel his arousal.

The kiss was searing, scorching. It burned her from the inside out.

And she couldn’t get enough.

It was hard for her to hide the disappointment when Ronan ended the kiss and stared down at her. Without a word, he took her hand and walked her to the abandoned cottage.

As soon as he stepped into the structure, he pulled her inside and shut the door. In the next instant, he had her pressed against the door, his mouth on hers again, more ravenous than before.

Meg slid her arms around his neck and sank her fingers into the thick strands of his wet hair. The kiss stirred her already heated blood. She gasped when he rocked against her, his thick rod pressing against her sex.

“Aye,” he murmured as he kissed down her neck. “Feel me, sweet Meg.”

She felt the cool air on her skin, and realized he was undressing her, but she no longer cared. All she wanted was more of the pleasure Ronan was giving her. She would think about her actions and the consequences later.

Now was all about what she wanted.

It was a new sensation for her. Never had she thought of herself before anyone else, and she found she quite liked it.

Her gown fell around her feet in a flurry of material. Ronan never stopped kissing her the entire time he was getting her naked. When Meg was completely nude, Ronan pulled her against him and looked into her eyes for long moments. She wished she knew what he was thinking, that she had some hint of what went on in his mind.

“I didna lie, sweet Meg. I’ve never taken an innocent before.”

She might have blushed before, but not now. Not when her body ached for him. His large hands were roaming over her, gripping her bottom and teasing the undersides of her breasts.

“You don’t bed virgins, remember. What makes you think I’m an innocent?” she asked, her voice shaking when he drew close to her already hard nipple. 

“A man like me always knows.”

Her lids drifted shut when she ground against him. “I don’t need to be seduced. I’m more than willing.”

“I should walk away from you, from this.”

Meg’s eyes flew open to see him staring down at her breasts. He had bent her backward, exposing her breasts. She couldn’t imagine him leaving her in such a state of need. Besides, she knew he needed release as well.

“Don’t.” Meg didn’t care that he heard the pleading in her voice. “Please.”

He drew his gaze up to hers. “You doona know what you’re asking.”

But she did. To prove it, she reached between them and wrapped her hand around his cock. “I know.”

With her words, Ronan unfastened his kilt and let it drop to the ground. He knelt in front of Meg and cupped her breasts in his hands before he closed his mouth over one turgid peak.

Ronan had never wanted a woman like he wanted Meg. He teased her nipples mercilessly until her hips were rocking against him. Only then did he take the precious few moments to spread his kilt over the dirt floor and lay her down.

That’s when he finally got to feast his eyes on Meg in all her glorious splendor. Her nipples were a pale pink, her breasts large and full. She had a narrow waist and full hips. He glanced at her lithe legs, but it was the triangle of auburn curls between them that held him transfixed.

“You are a beauty, sweet Meg.”

Her smile was soft, seductive, and it caused a bolt of need to rush through Ronan. She had no idea of her appeal. He knelt between her legs and leaned over her to kiss her again.

Their limbs tangled as they rolled about touching and learning each other while soft sighs and moans filled the cottage. 

Ronan couldn’t get enough of her. He fondled her breasts before caressing one hand down her stomach to her sex.      He groaned when he found her already wet and ready. Sliding one finger inside her, he was rewarded when she moaned and arched against him.

While he continued to thrust his finger in and out of her tight sheath, he rubbed his thumb around her swollen clit. Her moans turned into cries of pleasure. Every time lightning lit up the sky he was shown a vision of pure eroticism. 

Ronan felt her body stiffen, and knew she was close to peaking. He continued his assault, adding a second finger to the first. Then, he leaned down and gently bit a nipple before flicking his tongue over it.

She came apart with a scream, the walls of her sex clenching his finger. And it was the most beautiful thing Ronan had ever seen.

CHAPTER FIVE

Meg didn’t know her body could feel so good or be taken so high. She opened her eyes as Ronan pulled his fingers from her body. He was leaning over her, the head of his cock at the entrance to her sex.

She knew why he hesitated, and it made her smile. Meg rested her hands on his sides and urged him to her. His pale green eyes widened in surprise.

And then he was pushing inside her, stretching her, filling her. Meg lifted her legs and was amazed when he slid deeper. He paused, and withdrew until just the tip of him was inside her.

With one thrust, he pushed through her maidenhead, burying himself fully.

Meg stiffened at the pain, but it wasn’t long until it diminished. Then something primal, something ancient had her moving against him. As soon as she felt him slide in and out of her, the pleasure, when it returned, was amplified.

She gave herself up to the rhythm Ronan set. The tempo increased as he went deeper, thrust harder. And each time the pleasure low in her belly tightened.

Her second climax was as fierce as the first, sweeping her away on a ride of ecstasy. She knew in that instant that her body belonged to Ronan. He had marked her without even meaning to.

He threw back his head and gave a shout just as he pulled out of her. Meg held him when he collapsed on top of her, his body jerking. That’s when she realized he had poured his seed on her stomach.

Meg smoothed his hair back from his face and closed her eyes as she enjoyed the feel of his weight atop her. No one had ever touched her as deeply as Ronan had.

She wasn’t the naïve girl this time. This time she knew exactly what he offered – nothing.

Ronan rose up on an elbow and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth before he stood. He tore a part of her chemise off before tearing that section in two. When he returned, he knelt and wiped her blood from between her legs and then his seed from her belly.

With the storm still raging outside, Ronan lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms. Meg welcomed the respite and nestled against him with her head upon his chest.