Ashlyn (The Highland Clan Book 5) (12 page)

“Do not be afraid, but I’m going to kiss your breast.”

She sighed, putting her hands on his head as he lowered his lips to her nipple, kissing and licking every corner of the taut peak, teasing and tasting until she writhed beneath him. He feared his hardness would frighten her, but he was unable to control it. If she would just spread her legs, he could slip inside. He reached up to his shoulder and tugged off his plaid, tossing it to the side. Her panting urged him forward, so he took her nipple in his mouth, suckling her until she cried out. He moved to the other breast, holding it in his hand, caressing it before he lowered his tongue to her nipple.

Her hips bucked toward him, and he smiled. His hand reached down to the curls at her juncture and touched her there. His arousal rubbed against her thigh and he groaned, wanting so much to plant himself inside her and bury his seed there. But his sire’s teachings told him he should not finish unless she agreed to marriage.

“Nay.”

Magnus thought he must have heard her wrong. “What?”

“Nay, I said nay!” She screamed in his ear and he bolted off the pallet and onto his feet.

She jumped up behind him, grabbing her shift to cover herself. “I’m sorry, but I cannot…”

Magnus tipped his head back and roared, then opened the door to step outside.

“Magnus, you promised. You said you would not get angry, and you’re angry. You’re bellowing like a sick animal. And you’re going outside to get away from me.”

“Arghhhhh! I’m not angry! I’m going outside because I must stick something in the snowbank.” He slammed the door behind him.

His cock.

Hellfire, how else could he stop this raging need inside him? He’d stick it right into the snowbank. Mayhap then his mind could function again.

Chapter Twelve

Slud, now what had she done? Ashlyn stared after him, wondering what was wrong. She donned her shift quickly and then moved toward the door, wishing to follow him, yet afraid. What the hell did he intend to stick in the snowbank? Her eyes widened when it dawned on her what he meant, so she reached for the handle and flung the door open.

He stood directly in front of her, a gleam in his eye.

“You are all right?” she whispered. She knew he must be, he wore that dastardly grin of his again.

“Aye, I am fine.”

“You are not angry?”

“Nay, I am not angry.” His voice was so soft that it caressed her skin. “I am a man of my word. I will not say ‘tis easy, but I am still a man of my word.”

“Did you stick it in the snowbank?”

He chuckled. “Nay, the cold air was enough.”

“May I see it?”

He maneuvered her back inside and closed the door behind them. “See what?”

“Your cock?”

He choked. “Lass, must you be so blunt?”

“What else should I call it? ‘Tis what most lads call it. If you do not wish for me to be afraid of it, I must see it.”

“Nay, you may not see it.”

His horrified expression told her she would not get what she wanted. “Why? I wish to look at it to see what’s coming.” She’d changed her brothers’ raggies, so she’d seen one before, but Magnus’s felt enormous against her thigh.

He moved to stand just a breath away from her, staring into her eyes. “Nay, I do not think ‘tis wise for you to study that part of me, at least not in the manner you have in mind. If you are curious about aught, tell me.”

“I…I do not think we will fit together.” She’d felt it against her leg. There was no way it would fit where it was supposed to. She stared off at the wall.

He laughed, tracing a line down her jaw with his finger. “Lass, let me worry about that. We will fit just fine. ‘Tis my job to be sure we do.”

She pondered this for a moment, especially since she really wasn’t interested in examining his manhood up close. Still, it had looked quite painful. Suddenly, a warm feeling washed through her body, and she realized Magnus’s hands were roaming all over her skin, his heat singeing her through the material.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because you must learn to trust me. Close your eyes and focus on naught but my touch.”

“Why are you allowed to touch me if I cannot touch you?”

“I did not say you could not touch me. I asked you not to
study
me. ‘Tis most different. But why not close your eyes and just let yourself feel? Lass, I want to give you pleasure.”

She paused before answering, but even though it still unnerved her, she wanted to experience this with him. “All right.”

“Then close your eyes, and enjoy my touch.”

She nodded, closing her eyes. “I wish to touch you, too.”

He reached for her hand and placed it on his male parts. “Aye, feel how it grows as I touch you, and you’ll understand how beautiful you are to me.”

His cock was quite warm, and her eyes popped open as soon as she felt him grow in her hands.

“You promised. Eyes closed.” He lifted her shift and ran his hands up her thighs and over her hips.

His hands warmed her, so she closed her eyes again.

“You do trust me, do you not, Ash?”

“I do, Magnus. I trust you.” Her hand ran down the length of him, the velvety soft skin that seemed to heat her core on its own. His hardness did not frighten her, though she was still slightly concerned it would not fit. She cupped his ballocks very carefully, as she knew how sensitive they were. She’d seen it first hand in Edinburgh. Vowing to handle him the same gentle way he handled her, she moved her hand back and forth along his shaft.

“Be verra careful what you start, lass.”

“But I like it.”

He laughed. “I am glad that you do, but do not torture me. Stop thinking and feel.”

She let go of him and focused on his hands, the hands that were now cupping her breasts, his thumbs rubbing across the sensitive tips.

“You like that, do you not?”

“Aye.” Shocked at how her voice came out in such a husky tone, she stopped speaking and let herself focus instead on
feeling
.

His hands massaged her breasts, and each movement seemed to send an arrow down to her sex. A strange feeling built inside of her, one that made her wish to spread her legs wider, a thought that appalled her, especially since she was still standing.

“Magnus?”

“Aye?”

“When you come inside me, ‘twill hurt, will it not?”

“Aye, for a maiden it hurts the first time, but being a maiden is not important to me. Whether you are a maiden or not, the pain shall pass and will be replaced with a yearning.”

“A yearning for what?”

He sighed, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. “For completion.” His hands moved from her breasts back to her hips, then down to her bottom. He ran his fingers over the round globes of her backside with the lightest of touches, causing her to squirm and arch toward him.

“Hold still and let me do that again.”

“The same place? But why?”

“Aye, just allow me to caress your skin there, see if you like it.”

“Aye,” she said, her voice small. When he touched her again, she was shocked to feel the hitching in her breath, the unsettling in her belly, and the yearning for more. “Magnus?”

“Do you like my hands there, teasing you, stroking your soft skin?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but a moan came out instead. Vaguely, she heard him chuckle just before his mouth claimed hers again, but this time it was different. This kiss was rough, demanding. His lips moved over hers, and his tongue invaded her senses. She touched her tongue to his, and the growl he pushed out told her that he had liked it. His tongue explored her mouth, pushing deeper, and she found herself gripping his arms, her nails digging into his hard muscles.

“I’m going to touch you there now, and you’ll understand why you’ll fit.” His hand moved over to the vee of her curls, parting her slowly and teasing her entrance. “Do you feel how wet you are for me? You are ready for me. Do you wish to do this?”

“Aye.” Her voice came out in a whisper, but she did not care, she would do anything with this man right now.

He lifted her into his arms and settled her on the pallet, then moved to the side of her so he could take her nipple in his mouth again. His hand found her entrance again and he inserted his finger, moving it in and out in a most torturous rhythm.

“Magnus. It feels so good.”

He pulled back and smiled at her, that smile she loved. “Aye, because you are hot and slick and wet for me. Your juices cover my hand. If you wish it, we shall finish. ‘Tis your choice, love.”

“Aye. Do it, please.” Her legs spread wide on their own volition and he moved above her, settling between her legs. Reaching down for his cock, he teased her entrance even more, and she could not stand the torture any longer. “Please, Magnus.”

He gripped her hips and plunged inside of her with one move. She squirmed underneath him, shocked at the pain of his invasion. A tear leaked out and trailed down her cheek.

“Shhhh, wee one. Trust me. ‘Twill be better in a moment. You shall adjust to me.”

He continued to whisper sweet words in her ear, so she gripped him, her hands laced around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder as she waited for the pain to subside. A few moments later, she moved, pleased to see he was right. “Are we done now? Can you take it out?”

“Nay, we are not done. I will not leave you until you are satisfied.”

“I am satisfied.”

“Give me two minutes and see if you still say those same words.” After kissing her forehead and then her lips, he began to move inside of her again, sliding out and thrusting slowly, each time becoming easier. Something started to
build
inside her, though she knew not what.

She could hear him panting, and was surprised to hear her own breathing matched his. “You are right. I am not satisfied yet. Keep going.”

Magnus gripped her hips again and rode her, hitting a spot that started a fire inside of her. Then he did something she had not expected at all. He reached between them and touched her between the legs, right above where they were connected, massaging her and caressing her until she screamed, careening over an edge she hadn’t seen coming. He continued his assault on her until she heard him groan, his hands holding her hips, clutching her the same way she had clutched him, as if they never wished to be apart again.

Suddenly, the world took on new meaning.

***

Magnus had trouble coming up with the right words. Had it been that long since he’d held a woman he loved in his arms, felt her shudder with the essence of her climax?

He had only one thing he wished to say, but he did not think Ashlyn would accept it yet. His primitive instinct shouted inside of him:
Mine, you’re mine now, lass.
He wished to tell her how much he loved her, to propose to her, to talk of marriage, but he knew the feeling of love was not reciprocated, so he held his tongue. He could not, so he kept his words to himself, though his heart told him differently. She needed time to adjust to all that had happened between them.

He cradled her in his arms, giving her his heat in the cold of the night. Kissing her forehead, he settled her head on his shoulder, his hand caressing her arm. Neither of them spoke for a few moments, each absorbed with their own thoughts. Finally he said, “Did I please you, Ash?”

“Aye, more than you know,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “And did I please you?”

He laughed and repeated her words. “More than you know… Do you have any regrets?”

“Nay.” She cuddled in closer to him. “We should probably sleep, but I fear I cannot yet.”

“Why not? Something bothering you?”

“Aye.”

He could tell she was having trouble working over whatever was on her mind, so he waited for her to speak. Patience. He just needed patience.

She sighed. “I have more to tell you. But I wish to gather my thoughts for a moment. Promise not to fall asleep?”

“Aye.” Was she ready to tell him the rest of her story about the past? How he hoped she would. Part of him feared she’d lost her maidenhead to some brute, but she had not. It had been intact. He climbed off the pallet, deciding he would give her a moment to herself, and found a cloth to wash her. After their repast, they’d filled one of the bowls with snow so it would melt. He pulled a cloth from his sporran and dipped it into the water before returning to her side, sitting on the edge of the pallet.

He blew the warm air of his breath onto the cold cloth.

“What are you doing?” She gave him a strange look telling him she hadn’t thought of the blood that was probably on her leg.

“I’m cleaning the blood from your maidenhead.” He moved his hand between her thighs, gently moving them apart.

“What?” She stared at her legs. “Oh.” She blushed.

“Do not be embarrassed.” As he washed the blood from her, she gazed into his eyes, apparently surprised he would so such a thing. “You gave me a wonderful gift,” he added.

“Magnus, I stabbed him.”

His hand froze, and he had to force himself to continue. Was she referring to the man that had been touching Gracie? Is this the reason why her arms were often swinging in the dark of the night? “The man who attacked you?” Once he finished washing her, he returned the cloth to the bowl, rinsed it, and then settled back onto the pallet, wrapping her in his warm embrace again, hoping she would finish her story.

“Aye. The one who touched me and Gracie.”

Even in the dark, he could tell that she was staring off into space as if she were reliving that horrible day. He stroked her arms softly, up and down. How could a lass of eight summers find the strength to attack a man? Ashlyn was indeed a strong woman, one made of an iron will and backbone and a fierce protectiveness.

“I am glad you did. He deserved it. ‘Tis dishonorable to touch a bairn in such a way.”

“But I think I killed him. I’m a murderer, and I’ve never told anyone about it.” Tears ran down her cheeks.

“Lass, no one would fault you for killing a man who attacked you, but I doubt you killed him. Mayhap you injured him. How old were you at the time?”

“I was eight summers old.”

“And what did you stab him with?”

“A small dagger.”

“There. That proves my point. A small dagger thrust by a young lass would not do enough damage to kill someone. You may have hurt him, but I doubt you killed him.”

“I think I did.” Her tears had turned to quiet sobs as she clung to him.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I caught him by surprise. He had no idea I had awakened.”

“But still…you were too young.”

“I ran at him, the dagger clutched in both of my hands, and I swung it over my head, aiming for his back…”