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To Conquer a Scot (A Time Traveler’s Highland Love) by Gill, Tamara (11)

Chapter Eleven

Her ass hurt. The fact that the horse in front of her kept letting off disgusting smells and popping noises didn’t help, either. Abigail shifted again in the saddle, trying to alleviate the uncomfortable ache that had settled there after the first mile, but nothing seemed to work.

How much longer were they expected to ride? All the way to bloody London?

Right at this moment she hated Scotland with a passion, and coming in a close second was the idiot who’d thought riding horses would be a good idea. Namely, Aedan.

The women around her chatted and laughed, every one of them enjoying the outing. She wasn’t. All she wanted to do was go back to the castle where she could rub her bottom in the privacy of her room.

“Are ye alright, Abigail?”

She cringed. “Not really. How much longer do we have to ride these beasts?”

Gwen laughed and pulled her horse alongside Abigail’s. “Only another mile or so and we’ll break for lunch. Aedan has organized a light repast for us all on the northern hill overlooking the keep. Some of the men not competing today will be there, too.”

“So your beau will be there.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact that was obvious by the loving look on Gwen’s face at the mention that Braxton would be present.

“Perhaps.” Gwen grinned, quiet a moment before she said, “But really, are ye well? You seem to be in pain.”

“I want to walk. My bottom is so sore. I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

“I’m so sorry. I never even thought. I assumed you’d be used to it, but, of course, you’re not.” Gwen rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her. “I promise, ’tis not too much longer.”

Abby smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll survive.”

And she did. Only another half hour and they arrived at the designated picnic spot. The view on top of the hill overlooked endless miles of heather-covered fields, the purple blossoms shimmering like water on the top of a loch on a windy day.

The closer they came, the more Abby’s bottom hurt and her desire to be off her mount became almost unbearable. Climbing the last few feet to the top of the hill, her horse seemed to slow and she had the urge to kick it into a trot, anything to get there faster and dismount.

She stopped beside a man she’d seen take the horses from the clansmen at the castle, flipped her leg over the back of the horses rump, and slid off the side. Not used to the position she’d been sitting in the last couple of hours, or the fact her bottom had become numb, her legs gave out on her as her feet touched the ground and she landed on her rear with an oomph.

A pair of strong arms came around her from behind, eliciting a shock of awareness through her body. “Are ye alright, lass?”

Aedan’s words, kind and soft enough for only her to hear, whispered against her ear. She shivered as he helped her to stand. Abby turned, meeting his concerned gaze, a gaze that also held something she didn’t want to acknowledge. “I am, thank you. I’m merely a little saddle sore.”

“Aye, I can see that.” He stepped into her space, bringing them almost nose to nose. The horse beside them ensured a little privacy, but not a lot. “Let me know if ye need any help feeling better.”

Her breathing increased, her stomach doing a little flip. What she wouldn’t do to be able to take him up on such an offer, to lean into him, touch him, allow him to rub her sore bottom until it felt better. Instead she patted him, trying to ignore how her hand wanted to run up his chest and curve about his nape to pull him down for a kiss. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be okay. A short break from the horse is all I need.”

He reached around and patted her ass and she gasped. “Let me know if ye change your mind.”

Abby felt her mouth open as he winked at her and walked off to join a group of men. Had the stiff-upper-lipped Aedan just smacked her on the ass? And why would he, when only last night all through dinner he’d sat at the dais glowering at her and flirting with Aline?

Not that she didn’t deserve his daggers. She’d purposely teased him, laughed at everything his friend Black Ben had said, and had pretended she was enjoying herself immensely. What she’d been feeling inside was another matter entirely. She hated seeing the snobbish, spoiled little Aline seated beside him—looking up at him with doe eyes and wandering hands. Aedan had placed her at the table before the dais, practically putting her in her place, and she’d done everything in her power to make him regret that choice.

Never in her life had Abby been so jealous of another. Aedan MacLeod was turning her into a deranged little green monster. Her behavior was shameful, and regret pierced her with its jagged edge. Aedan wasn’t for her, how many times did she need to repeat that mantra before she understood it? Believed it, even.

She followed him and sat beside Mae. The women were talking of the games that would continue tomorrow and what the competition would be. Eating a piece of bread, she listened with only half interest when she noticed Gwen wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

She caught Aedan looking about as well. He seemed to have noticed the same.

And then Gwen walked from behind some trees, and she chuckled at Aedan’s glower at his sister. Well, at least she wasn’t the only one getting in trouble by the man. It made a nice change.

“Who do ye think will win the caber toss tomorrow, Gwen? Ye know, your brother holds the record for the longest throw,” Aline said, smiling.

“Aye, I did know that,” Gwen said, as she rejoined the group and sat down.

Abby desperately tried to think of what sort of competition caber toss was before the conversation went any further, but failed. “Can I ask what the caber toss actually is?”

Aline snorted, but didn’t answer.

“’Tis where the men toss a large tapered caber or pole and see how far they can throw it,” Gwen said, handing her a cup of mulled wine.

“Aye. No doubt the men will be sporting a few splinters tomorrow eve,” Aline said, sighing for dramatic effect that only brought out the bitch within Abby.

“Lucky the men have you to see to their wounds, Aline.” Abby took a slice of ham and added it to her bread, ignoring the girl’s glare. She looked at the food that’d been packaged for them and would’ve given anything for a jar of mayonnaise to be included. “Does tomorrow’s contest earn prize money as well?”

Gwen grinned, her lips a lot redder than they had been when they’d arrived. “Whatever man wins gets a kiss from a lucky fair maiden. It’s all very proper, don’t look so scandalized, Abigail.”

Abby’s eyes widened. “Is that allowed? It’s one thing for a kiss to occur in private, but in front of everyone. Won’t the fathers of these girls be outraged?”

Aline chuckled, the high timbre of her voice grating on Abby’s nerves. “Why would they? It’s only a small kiss, like you’d give a family member.”

Mae scoffed. “Well, I’ll not be putting my name down as a possible candidate.”

Since the woman was already in love Abby understood why. Mae would never betray the man she intended to marry, no matter what her brother said. Abby hoped the woman received her wish.

“I will be,” Aline said, throwing a heated gaze toward Aedan. “I have high hopes as to who the winner will be.”

Gwen scoffed. “I do not doubt it.”

Aline glared at Gwen and Abby smiled, taking another bite of her sandwich. “You were saying the event causes splinters. How bad can they be?”

“Quite nasty. The wooden poles they’re throwing have not been smoothed, so it’s a hazard the men must deal with. Last year, Aedan had one that had to be cut out. He required stitches afterward. Ghastly looking wound, if ever I saw one.”

The thought of blood and bits of wood sticking out of skin turned Abby’s stomach and she put down her lunch. “It sounds barbaric.”

Aline sighed, rolling her eyes. “Abigail, if you’re to live in the Highlands, wounds, in most cases more severe than a mere splinter, are as common as the heather on these hills. You best get used to them.”

Gwen glared at Aline but Abby nodded. The girl was right, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d never been good around blood. “Well, all I can hope is tomorrow no such wounds occur, but then, since you’re such a capable woman who will tend the wounded with great enthusiasm, the competitors are truly fortunate that you’re here to help, aren’t they?”

Abby didn’t hide the sarcasm in her tone, which unfortunately seemed to be lost on Aline as she only nodded and smiled.

Not long after, they began to pack up the lunch, the leftovers were given to the men who had looked after the mob of horses to finish off.

Her mount, a placid mare that stood at her head height, looked more imposing than when she’d first mounted it back at the castle. She pulled the animal over to a fallen tree and stood on the wood to help get her foot in the stirrup. With one foot in, she jumped to gather momentum and felt a hand clasp her ass and push her into the air, and onto the saddle. She sucked in a startled breath.

Where Aedan’s hand touched, her skin burned. Her body longed for more of the same. For his hands to slide over every ounce of her flesh and touch, tease, learn every curve of her being.

Damn the man. She couldn’t be like this with him.

“You shouldn’t touch me like that. Someone may see.”

He watched her, the heat in his eyes making her ache.

“And if no one was watching? Would ye let me touch ye then?”

And there it was. The proposal of what he really wanted. Her.

Abby pushed a flyaway piece of hair from her eye and looked between the horse’s ears, anywhere but at the man who consumed her every thought, inflamed her every need and desire.

There was no doubt he could fulfill her every requirement in the bedroom, and expertly, too. She fiddled with the reins. “Does it really matter what I’d allow?” She did look at him then, his face the most appealing one she’d ever seen. Strong bones and eyes of deep green to make the grass weep with envy.

“It does to me.” His hand came to sit on her foot, his fingers sliding up her ankle to clasp the back of her calf.

Abby took a calming breath. The man was dangerous. “Right now there are three women who’d make a good match for you. All of them with breeding that surpasses my own. Not to mention, they’re born in this century.”

“I don’t give a blast about the other women. I want you.”

Her mouth dried at the words. Aedan moved closer still, his hand sliding farther up her leg, his fingers massaging her flesh. His touch felt wonderful, and she wondered what else he was good at. Abby shut her eyes, her body thrumming with suppressed desire. “Stop it,” she said, no conviction in her tone. “We could be seen.”

“Meet me in the anteroom on ye return. There are things we need to discuss.” He stepped back and she immediately felt the loss of his touch.

She wanted him next to her, touching her, looking only at her, as if she were the single most important person in his life, and the thought gave her pause. She nodded. “Fine. I’ll meet you there, but it won’t change anything. Surely you understand that.”

He didn’t reply, but slapped her horse on the bottom, sending it walking forward. Abby followed the other riders, her mind lost in thought. In only a few hours she would have to tell Aedan yet again to leave her well alone, to look for another and stop wasting his time with her.

It sounded so easy.

But it was so not.

To tell Aedan that she wouldn’t sleep with him when her body totally wanted to do just that was near impossible. Truth be told, having some sexy good times with Aedan was all that occupied her mind. Each time she saw him, her eyes seemed to be glued to his ass or abs. Although she’d never had a short-lived fling before, she could have one now. At least she’d never have to worry about running into Aedan in the future and having that awkward I-didn’t-think-I’d-see-you-again conversation. And what was wrong with having a little fun with the man before she left?

Nothing, when she actually considered it…

...

Abigail hadn’t turned up to their arranged meeting, nor had she come downstairs for dinner that eve. He’d sent word to Cook to send a meal up for her, and was informed she’d requested a bath.

He couldn’t blame the lass for wanting to soothe her muscles. Gwen had informed him she’d never ridden before, and when organizing the event for the ladies, he’d not given her comfort a second thought.

But that thought had soon been overrun with another. That of Abigail, soaping her alabaster skin, running the soap over her breasts, her stomach, her…

Black Ben slapped him on the back. “I’ve not seen that look on yer face for many a year. Tell me which lass has been lucky enough to capture the attention of Laird MacLeod.”

Aedan sat back in his chair, meeting his closest friend’s knowing smile with a dismissive laugh. “Ah, there are many a lass here that have captured my attention, why should it be only one?”

Ben scoffed, the sound mocking, and Aedan frowned. “Ye lie. I saw ye the other eve, glaring at me like ye wanted to put a knife through my gullet. I’ll not be forgettin’ it, ye know. After all the years I’ve known ye, to think that I would steal a wee lassie away from ye was deeply upsettin’.”

“Do ye actually expect me to believe what ye’re saying?”

“No,” Ben said and laughed, “but it sounded good and ye know I like the sound of me own voice.”

The tables were pushed to the side, the gathered clans preparing the area for more dancing. “I will find a wife at these games, and must keep my options open.” A servant ran up the stairs, and Aedan wondered if she was calling on Abigail. Was she well, or was she sore from today’s ride and needed a tisane? He looked for his sister. He’d have Gwen take something up to Abigail to make her feel better.

Aedan stopped his thoughts before they became any more alarming. Aye, the lass was bonny, made him feel things no lass had in a very long time, but she’d made it perfectly clear she wasn’t interested in him. That her body and her beautiful eyes told him something else was beside the point.

Black Ben nodded, taking a sip of mead. “In all seriousness, Aedan, she’s a pleasing lass, young enough to give ye bairns, and bonny enough to keep ye loyal for a time. You’d be wise to stake a claim before someone else does.”

Like you? The thought left him angry and not a little ashamed. His friend was clever enough to know not to touch Abigail, and certainly not to seduce the girl. His hands fisted at the thought of anyone laying claim to her, of touching her sweet flesh, kissing those lips laced with sin.

He pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ll see ye tomorrow.”

“Aye, have a good night.” The salacious smirk on Ben’s face required no reply.

Aedan strode from the room, taking the stairs two at a time. The night was cool, the passage that led to his room darker than it ought to be, since the sconces hadn’t been lit. A servant shut Abigail’s door and bobbed a curtsy as she passed him.

He stopped at Abigail’s door, contemplating whether to knock or not. He should keep going, leave the lass alone, let her go…but something kept him standing there, not allowing his body to stride the remainder of the way to his room.

The sound of sloshing water sounded behind the wood and he leaned his head on the door, wishing it was open so he could see her. His imagination ran wild with the thought of what she’d look like naked, water wrapping about her like he wished he could.

He’d never been more jealous of an inanimate object in his life.

Fool.

He walked off, then changing his mind, turned about, and strode into her room just as she stood, one long arm reaching for a drying cloth on a chair beside the tub.

His imagination hadn’t done her justice. She had magnificent breasts that would fit in his palm nicely, thin waist and legs that went on for miles. Water dripped from her, the little droplets running between spaces he could only dream of tasting, licking, kissing…

“Perhaps you’d like to take a photo, Aedan. It’ll last longer.”

He didn’t understand what she’d said, but by her tone of voice he knew she was being sarcastic. Instead of looking away, he crossed his arms and continued to admire the view. “If a photo means I could capture how you look for all time, I’d only be too willing to do so.”

A rosy blush ran up her chest and onto her neck and he smiled. He shut the door, and walking over to her, helped her out of the tub.

She contemplated his outstretched hand before taking it and stepping out. Whether the gods were on his side, he’d never know, but Abigail slipped, and the lass, forgetting all decorum, grabbed his shoulders as he clasped her waist.

Her very naked waist…

His body roared with need. The smell of lavender and something else that was only Abigail, assailed his senses. Of their own accord, his hands slid over her smooth, unblemished flesh, tracing up her spine, until he pulled her closer than he ought.

Her labored breaths pushed her breasts against his chest, and he cursed the fact he still wore his tunic and kilt. The need to have her against him, skin on skin, was unlike anything he’d ever known. His hand slid over her bottom and he clenched one buttock, eliciting a gasp from her.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she said, leaning closer and kissing him softly.

His cock hardened, and he lifted her, undulating against her core. He moaned, taking her lips in a searing kiss, wanting her with a need that scared him with its intensity.

His body burned for her, his mind in chaos over what he felt for the lass in his arms. She wrapped her legs about his waist, her body hard against his. “Aye, we should.” Aedan walked over to the bed, kneeling on the animal furs as he laid her down and came over her. Her dark locks spread out about her face like a halo, an angel sent from heaven to tempt him into sin.

And if sin was where Abigail was taking him, he’d gladly follow. Her fingers slid up his chest, up his neck, to clasp his nape. He kissed her long and deep, and she matched him with every stroke.

He was enthralled.

Aedan pulled away and ripped off his tunic, his kilt soon followed, before he stood at the end of the bed and looked at her, enjoying the beautiful woman who was willing to give herself to him. She lay open to him. No modesty, only raw need. Her glistening mons begged for his touch and so he knelt at the end of the bed, slid her down until he was able to taste and tease the very essence of her.

She was sweet, clean, and delicate. He flicked his tongue across her excited nubbin and grabbed her thighs to keep her still. Again and again he lathed her flesh, delving as deep as he could with his tongue, before teasing her with long, soft glides of his lips.

He nibbled her thigh, kissing his small love bites before making his way up her body, her flat stomach, breasts, her beaded nipples, taking his time to pay homage to such greatness.

“Aedan,” her soft plea made him as hard as a rock, but when her hand clasped his flesh and stroked, he lost all sense of control.

“Aye, like that, lass.” Pleasure rocked him. Her touch was soft but sure, driving him almost to the point of completion, but with enough control not to.

And he wasn’t going to come on her hand, when what he really wanted was to be inside her. Take them both to where their second kiss had brought them.

It was like their meeting was written in the sands of time, was meant to be.

He slid his tongue up her neck, kissing beneath her ear. She shivered beneath him, breathing heavily. He settled himself between her legs, undulating against her wet core, teasing them both with his touch.

He grabbed her hands, holding them above her head, their fingers entwined. Her breasts pushed out and he leaned down and kissed their rosy peaks. Wanted to make tonight memorable, pleasurable for her. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

He couldn’t get enough of her.

...

Abby moaned as Aedan’s tongue stroked her breasts with a care she’d not thought possible of him. It seemed opposite to how he was in everyday life. A man of no-nonsense, duty, and honor.

And it was this softer side of him she was afraid of seeing, of getting attached to. He was above her and she opened her eyes, their gazes locking as inch by delicious inch he pushed into her.

She strained against him, wanting to free her hands to bring him down for a kiss. She moaned his name, a plea for him to do more than fill her. She wrapped her legs about his hips and pulled him into her.

He stayed where he was, ignored her silent appeal, and continued to take her with long, slow strokes.

She’d not had a very good look at him before he took her, but by the feel of him, the delectable sensations sparking through her body, this Highlander was perfect in every way.

“Let me touch you.” Again she pulled on her hands and this time he let her go. She tugged him down onto her, needing to feel skin-on-skin, the graze of his chest hairs against her breasts. Feel the sheen of sweat that covered both their bodies.

His back tensed beneath her hands, the muscles flexing with every thrust. A mirror above them would be perfect right at this moment. He would look so hot reflected in that way, demanding delicious things from her body.

His lips took hers in a searing kiss, and she lost all thought. All she was left with was an overwhelming feeling of rightness. Shivers rocked her body, her core thrumming with the promise of a fantastic orgasm that was building within her with every stroke.

Abby sighed as his thrusts increased, his hands clasping her ass and pulling her higher against him. He was so deep, pushing against that special spot inside that so few men had ever reached. Her fingers scored down his back, holding him to her with a desperation that scared her.

“Don’t stop what you’re doing.” Her body trembled with the first shocks of her orgasm and she moaned. “Aedan, keep going.”

He did, kissing her deeply, matching his tongue’s movements to that of his cock. And then there was no control, he took her with little regard, demanding that she, too, reach the completion he was so close to.

And she did. She broke the kiss as her orgasm tore through her. For a moment, Abby couldn’t breathe, so powerful were the tremors that took her breath away.

Aedan continued to take her, her body wrapped around him like a second skin, before he pulled out and emptied himself against her mons, the action making her jump, her body still so sensitive from their love-making.

He came to lay beside her, pulling her against his chest, his hand idly stroking her back as their breathing slowly returned to normal. “Are ye alright, lass? I wasn’t too rough, I hope.”

She smiled against his chest, kissing a little mole that sat in the middle of his breastbone. “Not at all. I feel quite sated.”

...

He chuckled and jumped from the bed. She squealed as he picked her up and walked over to the bathtub, stepping in and sitting down with her on his lap. The water was tepid, but with the fire roaring in the grate it was far from cold.

Aedan searched beside his legs, before he found the soap he was looking for. He lathered it between his hands and then began to wash Abigail. With the friction of the soap and water, her body felt like silk, all smooth lines and his to relish.

His hand captured a breast, making sure to wash them well. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breathing more heavy with every minute that passed.

“You’re so beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen skin as unblemished as yours.”

She turned to face him, resting her chin atop his chest. “You know, when you’re not going on about what constitutes the perfect wife and are instead enjoying yourself, you’re quite likeable.” She chuckled, and he basked in the honest sound of it. His feet tangled with hers, their bodies sliding against each other in unvoiced need. He bit back a groan as she pushed against his swollen manhood.

“I’m glad ye think so, lass. And I must declare, when you’re not arguing every point I make, you’re less vile yourself.”

She flicked water on his face, and he pulled her up to straddle him. Her eyes widened when he slid against her core, teasing them both for what was to come. She tipped up his face with a finger and caught his gaze. “What we’re doing here changes nothing. You know I can’t stay, don’t you?”

“Aye, I do.”

“And you’re all right with that? I mean, doesn’t it go against your principles to be with a woman and not marry her?”

Sliding his hand up her back, he pulled her close. “You’re not like all women. And secondly, I’ve been with plenty of women before and not married them.” She studied him for a moment, her features not giving anything away. He didn’t want to delve into the reason he wanted to know every thought she possessed, her ideals and beliefs. Or why the thought of her leaving left him a little panicked.

“I’m portraying a guest of yours, so this will have to remain a secret. No one can know what we’re doing together.”

He grinned. “Are ye saying this is going to continue?” Hell, he hoped so. Just the thought of stolen moments with this lass set his blood to burn. The castle had a lot of different places built for such trysts. She’d never be safe from him.

“I hope it does.” Her teeth bit her bottom lip, and he stifled a groan. He pushed against her, her hands threading at his nape. “I think I could get used to this type of pleasure quite quickly,” she said.

Lifting her, he guided her upon him. She fit him perfectly, her body clamping around him like a vise. They both moaned as he took her mouth in a powerful kiss, their tongues mimicking their bodies. He helped her to ride him hard and deep, not allowing either of them the time to breathe.

She pulled at his hair, her fingers scoring his skull, and he loved it. She leaned over him in the tub, riding him, taking his mouth as she pleased. He lost himself in her golden brown eyes; eyes that pulled him into her soul and beckoned him to stay there forever. Heat rushed to his groin and pleasure exploded between them as she rode him to orgasm, taking her pleasure without reserve.

He panted, his breaths coming in quick succession and still he hadn’t had enough of her. The word “trouble” floated through his mind, and he smiled.

If Abigail Cross was trouble, then he was going to get himself into a lot of it.

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