Eighteen
Two nights later, Cameron stood in Graham’s solar in a circle with his brothers and their wives, his sisters, and Alex MacLean. Iain, Marion, Lachlan, Bridgette, and Marsaili had arrived from Dunvegan just moments before, under cover of night for their secret meeting. Bridgette and Marion had just entered the room after settling their children into bed.
“I asked ye all here for yer help,” Cameron started, noting Iain’s eyebrows shoot up and Lachlan twitch with surprise. Stepping toward the table in the middle of the circle, Cameron set the dagger on the table that he had found two nights before. “This dagger belongs to Finn Stewart, the Earl of Angus’s son,” he said to remind the others who Finn was.
“How did ye come to have this dagger, and how do ye ken it’s his?” Lachlan asked, his confusion obvious in his voice.
“It has the Angus crest upon it and Finn’s initials carved into it. I came to be in possession of it because Lena and Sorcha were attacked two days ago by a man who had this dagger.”
Marion’s brow knitted. “Why would the Earl of Angus’s son come to this island to attack Lena and Sor—” Marion gasped. “Do you think he is one of the men who has been trying to kill Sorcha?”
Cameron nodded. “Aye. And he’s her brother.”
The shocked looks that swept through the group didn’t bother him, not as much as the suddenly tense expression Iain wore. Likely, Iain already suspected that the Earl of Angus might be involved in the plot to take the throne from David.
“Did Sorcha’s memory return?” Iain demanded.
“Aye,” Cameron said, struggling and failing to keep the grimness from his voice.
A frown appeared on Iain’s face, and Lachlan’s eyes narrowed. Graham, who already knew all that Cameron was about to relay, gave him a look of encouragement. Just as Cameron was about to continue, Bridgette spoke.
“I dunnae comprehend why her brother would be trying to kill her,” she said. Before Cameron could answer that question, she blurted another one, her face twisting into a frown. “And where is Sorcha? Why is she nae at this meeting? Why did ye demand we come under cover of night?”
“She’s nae here,” Cameron said, “because she dunnae ken that I found her brother’s dagger.” He quickly told them about his conversation with Sorcha, and how she had revealed that her father, the Earl of March, and the Earl of Ross were not only involved in the conspiracy to take the throne from David but they had been the ones to plot Katherine’s murder. He also told them about how Sorcha’s father had offered Hugo her hand in marriage, along with her brother’s inheritance of Blair Castle, if Hugo killed Katherine.
“So ye believe, what?” Iain asked. “That her brother kenned she was still alive after they fled and that he wanted her dead so he’d nae lose his castle?”
“Aye.” He told them what she had relayed to him of her brother—how he had once been kind and how their father’s criticism and Finn’s jealousy had twisted his heart. “I feel,” he said, taking a deep breath, “that when Finn came for her himself this time, instead of sending others, she saw him and her memories returned. Kenning her and her quickness and skill with the bow, I’ve nary a doubt she managed to get the bow and put him at a disadvantage, but he must have convinced her that he was sorry and that he would flee.”
“And ye suppose she let him go because of her love for him?” Bridgette asked softly.
Cameron nodded, tensing with the expectation that Bridgette would be the first to discredit his theory, but that was why he had called them all here. He staked much on what he thought had happened and what he should do based on what he believed would happen. It was a great risk, but one he was willing to take for Sorcha. Yet, he did not have the right to take the risk for his brothers and their wives. If they wanted to put distance between themselves and the situation, he would give them that chance.
“If I was faced with the knowledge that Alex had betrayed me, tried to kill me, even,” Bridgette said slowly, “and I kenned the why of it and he vowed to flee, I’d do exactly as ye believe Sorcha did. I’d find it worse to offer up my own brother, who I had seen good in at one time, for certain death than to risk myself and lie by releasing him. Beyond that, she did tell ye of her father’s part in the plot, and to me, it means much that she did. She must ken there is nae any hope of redemption for her father. I kinnae imagine how hard that must have been for her to accept and then tell ye of his wrongdoing.”
“Neither can I,” Cameron replied, relieved that Bridgette agreed with him. She was a keen woman and not one to be easily swayed.
Lena cleared her throat. “I believe ye have assessed the circumstances correctly, as well.”
“As do I,” Marion interjected, giving him a reassuring smile.
“I agree, also,” Marsaili said with a definitive nod.
“Ye already ken I agree with what ye think happened, what ye foresee will occur, and the course of action we should take,” Graham said. It was not lost on Cameron that his brother had stressed the word we, and his chest tightened in appreciation.
He glanced at Lachlan and Iain. Of everyone in the room, he expected the two of them to be the people who would disagree or show Cameron where his thinking involved too much hope and not enough logic.
“I dunnae like that she lied to ye,” Iain began, making the knots in Cameron’s shoulders grow tighter. “But,” he said, glancing swiftly at Marion, then back to Cameron, “kenning women as well as I now do they will do all sorts of illogical things to defend the men who have won their affections.”
“Aye,” Lachlan agreed, his gaze resting fondly on his wife. “Now that we all agree with yer assessment of what has likely occurred up to this point, why don’t ye tell us what ye think will happen next and what ye believe we should do?”
Cameron released a long breath and took a second to appreciate this moment of feeling close to all his brothers and sisters. “I asked myself what I would do if I were Finn,” he began. “He kens she is going to reveal the plot against David and who killed Katherine, which will implicate him. So Finn will search out the best person to create an alliance with. As the Ross family is the strongest and Hugo has the most to lose by killing Katherine, I believe Finn will go to them.”
“Agreed,” Lachlan and Iain replied.
Lachlan scrubbed a hand across his face, looking contemplative for a moment. “If I were Finn, I’d go to Ross and Hugo and tell them Sorcha would betray them all.”
“Aye,” Iain said. “I was thinking the same thing. I’d try to strike a bargain with them, proposing that they all name the Earl of Angus as Katherine’s killer. Someone has to pay with his life.”
“That was my thought,” Graham said. “In doing this, Finn dunnae need Sorcha’s castle anymore because he could gain his father’s land upon his death.”
A grim silence fell upon the room, broken only when Iain cleared his throat and said, “The Earl of Ross is cunning, as is his son. They will think upon every possible outcome and set plans in motion for each to come out in his own favor. Even as they make it seem they have agreed to unite with Finn, so that they can ensure he will nae tell anyone of their part in Katherine’s death, they’ll likely send word to King David immediately without Finn’s knowledge—”
“Begging forgiveness for their support of the petition and telling the king that they wish to withdraw their support of it,” Cameron finished, having made the same assumption as Iain.
“Aye,” came a chorus of agreements.
Lachlan made a derisive noise from deep in his throat. “Hugo will still want Blair Castle, though, so he will still wish to marry Sorcha. They will propose this to the king, likely even advise that Finn should be killed, as well as his father, for Katherine’s death. The betrayal will be unknown to Finn until the last possible moment, in case something went wrong. Hugo and his father would nae wish to alienate a possible ally.”
Cameron’s hands curled into fists, hearing what he believed to be true affirmed by his brother. “Exactly. They’ll believe the king will agree, simply to stop the petition, and if the king does agree, I must marry Sorcha now. If she is married to me, she kinnae be made wife of another.”
“Aye,” Iain said. “And I suppose ye are relying upon what they will nae ken so they will nae expect that we will have taken March’s castle and gained his withdrawal from the petition already, therefore weakening the rebellion.” He locked eyes with Cameron. “Ye will propose this to the king at the start, which will make him more likely to accept yer marriage to Sorcha. David is wise. He should see that ye—a man he can trust who fights against those who have shown themselves disloyal—marrying Sorcha is a greater benefit than agreeing to unite her with Hugo.” Iain’s gaze grew flinty, as it often did when he was plotting. “Ye are certain ye wish to marry Sorcha?”
“I’m certain,” Cameron replied. “I’m also certain she’ll nae agree to wed me because she wants to keep me safe from Eolande’s prophecy.”
“Damned seer,” Lachlan growled to grunts of agreement.
Marion tilted her head, a cunning smile twisting her lips. “Then wed her without her kenning it.”
Cameron grinned, relieved to hear that a woman he trusted had come up with the same idea he had. When it had first occurred to him two days ago, he’d had a moment of worry that she’d resent him for tricking her into getting married. But in the face of her life and their future being at risk, and armed with the certainty that she did want him for husband, he set the fear aside. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Bridgette grinned. “It should be fairly easy to get her relent to the truth of wishing to marry ye in front of the priest.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “The difficult part will be for her to state an intention to do so in the future. Without that—”
“And without a joining,” Iain interrupted, leering at his wife, “it will nae be a binding marriage.”
“If ye all can help me with getting her to say the right words, I’ll do the rest,” he said with a wink.
Alex, who had been silent and only nodding his agreement up until this point, met Cameron’s gaze. “If ye are wrong,” he said, “ye will be bound for life to a woman who has betrayed ye.”
Cameron exhaled slowly. “I will take that chance for Sorcha, though I dunnae believe I’m wrong. But I’ll nae ask ye to take it with me. I intend to send Broch to the king tonight with what I ken, as well as with word that I have married Sorcha. I anticipate the king’s first response will be anger—he dunnae like being thwarted—but he is wise, as ye say. And he will be less angered when he realizes my plan will gain him all he desires. He’ll gain the withdrawal of the Earl of March and the Earl of Angus from the petition, but will still keep the Earl of Ross as somewhat of an ally, even if it’s merely a deceit. The king will also have the deaths of two of the men who plotted to kill Katherine.”
“Aye,” Iain said, clapping Cameron on the shoulder. “Well done, Brother. Where shall we start?”
Cameron gave a tight smile. “First, I’ll propose that the king continue to seem agreeable to the marriage of Sorcha to Hugo to keep the Earl of Ross happy. This gains me time and ensures the king dunnae lose an ally. And as I said, I believe Hugo, Finn, and the Earl of Ross will ask the king to allow them to formally come to him to beg his forgiveness for signing the petition.”
Everyone nodded, and Iain gestured for him to continue. “I’m going to advise to the king that he go to them instead, under the guise of traveling to see his lands,” Cameron said. “I’ll also advise meeting them at the Falls of Friar, which is close to the Ross stronghold. The valleys and cliffs around the Falls will offer good cover for me, which I will need as the plot proceeds. If the king is nae to look like he has betrayed his word to the Earl of Ross, then I must appear to have gone against the king’s command regarding Sorcha.”
“Do ye intend to let Hugo actually take Sorcha?” Iain asked.
Cameron’s chest squeezed at the thought, and he barely managed to get out a reply. “Aye,” he said. He paused to clear his throat. “But only briefly. Only long enough for it to look like my desire for her drove me to rebel against the king. Yet David will know what I intend, and he will know I have already taken March’s castle to aid his cause. I’ll also have given him the names of the men responsible for Katherine’s death and delivered Sorcha’s father to him. And I will have done all of this while allowing him to gain the Earl of Ross back as an ally.”
“This is verra dangerous, this game ye must play,” Iain said.
“Aye,” Cameron agreed.
“What next, Brother?” Lachlan asked.
Cameron swallowed, his throat growing dry from so much conversation. “Hugo will be forced to travel back to his castle from the Falls to wed Sorcha, so I will ken exactly where to wait to ambush him and take Sorcha back.”
“And what about that bastard Hugo?” Bridgette spat. “What will ye do with him?”
“Hugo will die in the ambush, thereby giving the king the death of the man who killed Katherine. The Earl of Ross will nae blame the king, either, because he will nae ken that the king knew I was going to kill his son.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, I get ahead of myself. After we take March’s castle, I’ll ride to the Falls with Sorcha to deliver her to the king, as he’s commanded. Once there, I will protest her being given to Hugo, thus forcing the king to demand I leave.”
“Ah, and then ye will have time to hide so you can ambush Hugo,” Isobel said. Cameron smiled grimly, his emotions warring inside him. He was filled with comfort that his entire family was supporting him and offering their aid, yet he did not want to risk any of them, nor risk Sorcha.
“With Hugo dead, I dunnae doubt that the king will want Finn dealt with, as well,” Iain said.
Cameron nodded. “I’m going to request he spare Finn’s life and hand him over to me to punish in the king’s stead.” He inhaled a shuddering breath. “I dunnae ken that he will, however, and it weighs heavy on me. I dunnae want to hurt Sorcha more than she already has been.”
Lachlan clasped Cameron’s shoulder. “Brother, ye kinnae control everything. Yer plot is wise, and ye are doing all that ye can.”
“I agree,” Iain echoed.
“As do I,” Graham added.
Cameron nodded, his throat tight with gratitude for his brothers and their counsel. He prayed that Finn’s life would be spared for Sorcha’s sake, though he was not certain Finn really deserved to be spared. He’d plotted to kill an innocent woman, stood by and allowed it to happen, and had actively tried to murder his own sister. If it were not for Sorcha’s feelings, Cameron would likely kill the man himself.
He clenched his jaw on a fresh wave of anger at Finn. He inhaled a calming breath as he knew everyone was waiting for him to finish explaining. “I have asked Broch to make it seem as if he is betraying me when I protest the king’s marriage of Sorcha and Hugo at the Falls. I will draw my sword, and Broch will stop me. The king will then have a believable reason to order Broch to accompany Hugo and Sorcha to his home. That way, Broch will be there to defend Sorcha for the short time I am not with her. I would nae be able to allow her to ride off with Hugo otherwise.”
“It will also allow the king to appear as if he has upheld his agreement with the Earl of Ross so he does nae join the petition again and will reveal who else is behind the uprising,” Graham added. “Verra clever.”
Cameron merely nodded, suddenly overcome with worry. He would be deceiving Sorcha, and he despised that. And if anything should go wrong… He shook the thought away.
“Ye have my full support,” Iain said.
Lachlan gripped Iain’s and Cameron’s forearms. “And mine. Divided we are weak, but together—”
Graham came closer, clasping their forearms, as well. “We are strong.”
Cameron nodded and swallowed past the thick emotion that was clogging his throat. “Aye. Together we are strong,” he repeated, thanking God that he truly understood that now.
Soon Lena, Marsaili, Bridgette, Marion, and Alex joined them in their huddle.
After they broke apart, Cameron said, “The one question I’ve nae come up with the proper answer to is when I should tell Sorcha that she is my wife.”
He looked to Marion, Bridgette, Marsaili, and Lena for counsel. Marion sucked in her bottom lip, Bridgette cocked her head, Marsaili appeared utterly befuddled, and Lena quirked her mouth.
Finally, Marion released her lip and said, “When all is done.”
“Aye,” Bridgette agreed. “Otherwise, she may do something foolish to try to defend ye.”
He nodded, though the thought of lying to her made his gut ache. “How long do ye believe it will take her to forgive me for lying to her?” he asked the women.
They all grinned, and Marion answered—and by the look shared among the four of them, Marion spoke for them all. “About as long as it took you to forgive her. Love is quite odd that way, Cameron.”
He prayed they were right. “We will leave,” he said, looking to Graham and Alex, “as soon as Broch returns from delivering my plan to the king. I’ll need confirmation from Broch if the king has agreed to this plot.”
“He will agree,” Iain said in a confident tone. “He kens that to name ye an enemy would be to name the MacLeods an enemy, and he will nae do that. Ye have a good plan.”
They all nodded their agreement, and Marion clapped her hands. “Now we must determine the best way to get Sorcha to confess her intent to marry you in front of the priest.”
“That,” Cameron said, “sounds like an excellent idea.”
Everyone was acting so oddly tonight at supper, but then again, Sorcha thought the past several days had been strange. She was not about to voice her concern, however. The longer Cameron chose to linger at his brother’s home instead of heading for the Earl of March’s castle, the more time she had with him. Each moment was precious, and not just because she feared the moments were numbered.
In the past few days, Cameron had spent a great deal of time with her, perfecting her ability to defend herself; showing her how to work with iron, wood, and other metals to make swords, daggers, even a shield; swimming with her; and talking with her about their childhoods. Each night, they danced in the great hall, and afterward took long walks in the moonlight. And at the end of every evening, he’d come to her bedchamber with her, worshipping her body in ways that took them both just to the edge of losing control, but not over, never over. She would fall asleep in the safety of his arms with him singing softly to her. He had one of the most beautiful voices she’d ever heard. She could have been utterly happy, except for her lie. It gnawed at her, and the need to tell Cameron pulsed within her. Yet she could not chance revealing the truth and putting him in a position to choose between her and the king.
Sorcha felt eyes upon her, so she looked up from the trencher she’d been staring down at to find Lena smiling at her. The smile looked suspiciously as if Lena knew a secret. Lena took a long drink from her goblet and set it down, giving Sorcha a hard look. To Sorcha’s left, the young priest she had met earlier accidentally knocked over his goblet of wine.
“I beg yer pardon, my lady,” Father Blackstone said, his cheeks turning red.
Cameron had told her the man was rather new to his brother’s castle and had earned a reputation as somewhat of a clumsy man. Sorcha quickly helped him clean up the mess, and when she was done, Father Blackstone thanked her profusely. He leaned close to her, a twinkle in his light-brown eyes. “My predecessor told me the best way to gain the confidence of yer flock is to show them ye are human. How am I doing?”
Sorcha felt her eyes widen. “Ye mean ye’re doing these things—” she motioned to the table where the wine had been spilled “—on purpose?”
“Aye,” he replied, a look of guilt flashing across his face. “I’ve been here since winter and nae a soul has come to confess to me. The last couple that got married even sent word to the old priest and had him journey here to perform the ceremony. It seems my age makes people believe I’m nae ready to lead them.”
He gave her an expectant look, as if she had a reply that would make him feel better. She cleared her throat and said, “I have faith in ye.”
“Do ye?”
She nodded.
He grinned. “Ye may be the only one.” He turned and glanced at Cameron, who sat on the other side of him. Cameron took no note, as he was engaged in conversation with Isobel, but Isobel smiled sweetly at the priest and then gave Sorcha a look. It seemed a strange mixture of happiness and secretiveness, almost like Lena’s had been.
Sorcha frowned, but when the priest patted her on the hand, she focused on him once more. He leaned in again, as if he had something private to say. “Do ye intend to marry Cameron if he asks ye?”
His question shocked her, but she assumed he was asking because he wanted her to say he could perform the ceremony. “I’d like to,” she whispered.
Suddenly, she felt someone hovering over her, and when she glanced up, Cameron stood there, looking down at her, an expression of utter possession gleaming in his eyes. Had he heard what she’d said? Embarrassment had her stuttering for words. “I…I did nae mean—”
“Do ye intend to marry this woman?” Father Blackstone asked Cameron.
“Aye,” Cameron replied. Her heart fluttered in both happiness and wariness.
“Excellent,” the priest replied, suddenly standing and moving from the bench. “When ye are in need of me to perform the official ceremony, I’ll be here.”
As the priest left, Cameron held out his hand to her. She took it, suddenly aware that everyone sitting on the dais was staring at them. She skimmed her gaze over Lena, Alex, Isobel, Graham, and Isobel’s grandmother. What must they think after hearing her say she’d like to marry Cameron? Did they think a marriage would soon occur? Did Lena worry that Sorcha had forgotten the prophecy?
“If ye’ll excuse us,” Cameron said, cutting into the whirling noise of worry in her head.
Once they had quit the great hall and were walking toward her bedchamber, she paused and turned to Cameron. “Please dunnae feel ye must ask me to marry ye this day,” she murmured, her embarrassment so acute that her entire body felt singed. She tensed, prepared for Graham to argue.
“Dunnae fash yerself,” he said, a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth, as if he found her embarrassment—the whole situation, really—amusing. “I dunnae feel that way in the least. I ken how ye feel about marrying me. Everything happens when it is time,” he added, his tone almost…what was it? Resigned? Had he resigned himself to the fact that she had thus far refused his marriage proposal? Would he not ask again? But no, he’d said he would. Yet, her stomach turned with sudden worry that he might give up so easily on her. She was being unreasonable. That’s what she was—utterly unreasonable. She could not demand blind devotion when she was not giving it.
Biting her lip so she’d not voice the absurd thoughts in her head, she followed him into her bedchamber, half expecting him to decide not to sleep with her tonight. He closed the door as he ushered her in, and she found herself suddenly agitated and unsure what to say or do. She turned from him, toward the window, and strolled to it, feigning interest in the stars so he’d not see the emotions on her face.
She felt his presence before he touched her. When he moved, the air crackled with his power and intensity. His warm hands came to rest gently on her shoulders, and the heat of his body enveloped her. Unable to resist the pull of her body to his, she pressed her back against what felt like iron but she knew was his body, carved of almost pure muscle.
“I’ve nae ever seen a more beautiful sight,” he whispered, his breath fanning her neck and making her shiver.
“Aye, the sky is lovely tonight,” she replied, staring in wonder at the bright-white stars dotting the dark sky and feeling somewhat calmed by his touch.
“Nae the sky, mo ghraidh,” he said, his voice a balm to her worries.
His love.
She committed to memory how the endearment sounded coming from his lips. Whether they were married in this life or not, she would always know he had loved her and remember this moment.
She turned suddenly in his arms, slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, and pressed her chest to his, her pelvis to the proof of his hard desire for her. “Cameron, I want ye,” she said simply, infusing the four words with a silent, desperate plea. When he didn’t immediately remind her that he’d not join with her until they were married, she pushed forward. “All of ye. I want to ken ye as I nae ever have.” As she might never get the chance to again…
The tenderness that filled his burning gaze as he brushed his hand over her cheek made her stomach clench in hopeful anticipation. The hand that had touched her skin slid to cradle the nape of her neck, and suddenly, he pulled her to him and slanted his mouth over hers in a kiss that began gentle but quickly became demanding. She came to her tiptoes, desperate to meet his need and fulfill her own. Her heart pounded, and her hands shook as she moved them back over his chest to tug at his clothes.
She felt the rough slide of his own hands as his fingers hooked under the shoulders of her gown, and he divested her of it and her léine before she had managed to rid him of his clothing. She gasped when the cool bedchamber air hit her bare skin.
Cameron pulled away, his gaze now filled with unbridled yearning. “Ye’ll nae be cold long,” he assured her, the silken promise in his voice making her belly tighten.
Kicking out of his plaid, he swept her into his arms as his mouth captured hers once again. The greedy kiss sent her senses reeling, so that when the soft bed came under her back she blinked in surprise that he had laid her down and she’d not even realized it. His lips left hers to trace a burning path to her full, aching breast. Without hesitation, he sucked her nipple into his mouth in a long, luxurious pull that forced a ragged moan from her as she arched her back toward him. His tongue flicked deliciously over her hard bud, teasing her and tormenting her.
She dug her nails hard into his back in a silent demand for more. He broke the contact with her breast only to move to the other and give it the same treatment, except this time, he gently swirled his tongue around the bud before taking her breast into his mouth. When he finally suckled her, her insides quivered with sweet need. “Cameron, please,” she begged, not caring at all what she sounded like.
His answer was to swiftly come between her thighs, delve his hands under her bottom, and slide his tongue up the center of what made her a woman. “Cameron!” she sobbed in pleasure and pain. His tongue lavished her with wicked strokes that made her pulse race ever faster and her blood roar. She clenched her hands against the bed, then his shoulders as she thrashed her head back and forth. She was going to die of wanting him. “I kinnae take any more!” she pleaded, and that’s when his tongue touched a spot she’d not known existed.
Pure pleasure spiked through her as he sucked that pulsing spot into his warm mouth, but she needed something more. Her impatience was becoming explosive. His hands came to either side of her thighs, which he spread wider, and when his fingers came to the spot he’d revealed to her and rubbed in a frenzied circle, hot liquid poured through her, and she shattered into a million glowing stars to match the ones in the sky.
Suddenly, he released her, and she opened her eyes to find him above her, strain and wanting warring on his beautiful face. “Now ye’re ready,” he said huskily.
“There’s more?” she teased, though she did wonder how she could possibly take any more. She felt utterly spent.
But in the slide of his hand between her breasts, then around one bud and then the other, her pulse, which had just begun to abate, sped up again, and deep in her core, desire sprang to life once more. “Show me,” she invited, sensing he was waiting for her to give him a sign that she was ready. “Show me this more,” she purred.
“I’ll show ye, my bean bhàsail. Over and over again, I’ll show ye until neither of us can speak or move.”
She grinned up at him, the picture of an unrepentant temptress, and his heart squeezed so hard that he had to clench his teeth against the wave of love he felt for her. In moments, their union, which had begun with the priest securing each of their intents to marry the other in the future, would be complete when they joined their bodies. The knowledge made him tremble with gratitude and awe.
He ran his hands over the silken skin of her flat stomach to her round, proud breasts. He trailed a path down her shapely legs and back up over her lush, womanly hips only to move his hands back to her inner thighs, where he spread her a little wider to prepare her for him.
She watched him with the slanted eyes of a cat who was lounging in the sun and appeared the picture of contentment. He parted her at her core and slid his fingers slowly down her center. She was ready for him. “It will hurt—”
She pressed a finger against his lips. “I ken. I’ve seen horses breed, ye ken.”
He chuckled at that. “’Tis nae like horses breeding.”
She smirked at him. “Well, I ken that, but if it hurts for a giant mare when a stallion enters her, then I presumed it would be the same for a man and a woman.”
“I’m nae quite as big as a stallion,” he teased. He pressed his mouth to hers as his fingers found the spot that he knew would make her more than ready.
He watched the need for him grow on her face and through her body as she began to thrash, then buck, and finally claw at him. His own need was a wild storm within him that he kept contained as long as he could, wanting her to experience as much pleasure as possible. When his body prevailed over his will, he touched the tip of his staff to her entrance and shuddered with desire. There was no hope to prevent the moment of pain for her, so he quickly thrust into her and stilled, clenching his teeth against the battering need to move. But she was hot and tight and ready based on her sudden glare and demand that he move now.
He pulled out slowly and slid back in, memorizing the way he felt inside her, his bean bhàsail. Being with her was unlike anything he’d ever known. It was more, so much more, and the ache that filled him was one of happiness and love. He released the hold he had over himself as he knew he never had, as he’d never been able to. With her, he did not feel the need to protect himself. He began to move faster, the age-old rhythm of mating taking over. The pressure inside him grew until it was a living thing that would not be contained. Yet he waited, sweat slicking his skin and his muscles burning. The moment her back arched, she threw her head back, and her core pulsed around him, washing hot liquid over his rigid staff, he released his last restraints on himself and filled her with his seed, making her his forever.