Captured by a Laird (9 page)

“Come, we will make camp before heading back to my keep at first light.”

Lena looked aghast. “I w–w–ill not make camp with you. It is not proper.” As she spoke she remembered how she had come to be in the cold river. “Haigh!” She shuddered. “He is in pursuit of me.”

“He will not find us this night,” Stref assured her. “I know a small cave a short ride from here. It is warmed by the heat of the day and very secluded.”

As he spoke the last word, Lena saw his eyes fire to life again and burn with a want that caused her skin to tingle. She dwelt momentarily on the power she could wield over her latest captor. Maybe, she could use his passion to her advantage to orchestrate her escape. Although, she was painfully aware that it hadn’t worked the last two times she had tried it, Lena was desperate to find a way past this man mountain. Lena dismissed the niggling doubt that entered her mind at the thought of being apart from Stref again. It was beginning to feel just right to be in the company of the laird.

Stref led the way to where his horse was tethered. He helped her up then swung onto the saddle behind her. Reaching around her waist, Stref grabbed hold of the reins and urged the horse along a narrow path. Contact was inevitable, but Stref maintained a courteous distance from her back. Lena was reminded of her last trip on the back of a mount when Haigh’s swollen groin pressed itself uncomfortably into the small of her back.

As the horse made its way through the overhanging branches, Lena allowed her mind to dwell on the alternative to her present position. Lena was compromised. Her croft was compromised and Stref Harris seemed to offer the best solution. She had no desire to marry the man who had captured her unnecessarily, yet somewhere deep inside her a tiny spark danced at the thought of his large calloused hands touching her in areas that pulsed at his every attention.

As they neared the sheer rock face, Lena could see no crevice that looked remotely like a cave. The dimming light made the task more difficult and she strained her eyes against the red glow of the setting sun. It glared off the rock, giving the appearance of pure gold.

“Just in here.” Stref’s voice whispered close to her ear.

Lena looked again and saw, what had looked like a deep fracture in the craggy surface to be the cave that Stref had indicated. Stref used the reins to guide the horse into the narrow passage, which opened up into a high cave with a cathedral ceiling. The air felt warm despite the size of the hollow. A collection of rocks formed what looked like a ring of seats that caught the light of the last rays of sunlight.

“A fire would attract attention, even in here,” Stref explained. “We just need to bed down and await first light. There are coverings under the saddle that we can use to hold in the warmth.”

Lena nodded. For once she was at a loss for words. The proximity of Stref in such a secluded place was making her mind work in ways that she had denied for years since her father had charged her with the protection of the croft. Val had always insisted that a husband would not compromise her position as chief, but Lena had felt that the responsibility was hers alone. The men had valued her battle skills, but none had ever approached her as a potential mate, and Lena had been glad of their distance.

As Lena mused over her newly awakened feelings, a blanket that smelled decidedly horsy was thrust into her face.

“I will sleep by the door,” Stref grunted.

Lena wrapped herself snugly in the blanket as the last rays of light faded from the cave. The cold crept around her and she wriggled down pulling the fabric up around her chin and tucking it tightly under her body. The ground felt surprisingly soft as it was made predominately of sand. She looked towards the cave entrance and saw Stref sitting with his back to the wall, looking towards her. Lena smiled sleepily at his attention; her eyes began to feel heavy and they finally lowered into slumber.

Lena awoke with a start. The darkness seemed to fold around her, engulfing her. She caught her breath, sensing a warmth close by her. Relief flooded through her as she realised it was Stref. His musky scent filled her nostrils.

“You called out in your sleep,” Stref explained. “I was concerned. I thought you had struck a rock and then I realised you were dreaming.” Stref paused before he added quietly, “Did he hurt you?”

Lena was touched at the emotion that once again, laced his tone. The darkness seemed to weave a spell of anonymity where emotions could be exposed.

“I was scared,” she admitted in a small voice. “I saw something in his eyes. Something evil.”

A hand snaked around Lena’s waist pulling her into the hardness of his body. The warmth comforted Lena and she moved to mould herself to the curved shape of his torso. Stref’s low groan made Lena feel empowered. She smiled slowly at the effect her closeness was having on the man behind her. Trying out her newfound power, Lena wriggled, causing a low curse to rumble in her ear.

“Damn you vixen!” he swore, his hand moving to lift the weight of her breast.

It was now Lena’s turn to catch her breath. She basked in the sensation that assaulted her, her drowsy mind too weak to fight the onslaught of her traitorous body.

* * * *

Awaiting the sting of rejection, Stref savoured the feel of Lena’s full breast in his hand. He cursed the fabric that separated their two skins from meeting. His legs ached as his manhood swelled the delicate sack that lay beneath contracting with pent-up desire. Lena murmured a lazy consent that sent the blood roaring in his ears. He did not know how much more he could stand before he would flip her over; tear the cloth from her body and plunge himself deep inside her.

Stref moved his hand lower down Lena’s toned body. He found the hem of her tunic that had ridden up as she slept. As he touched the soft contours of her skin, a low primal sound came from deep within his chest. Lena parted her legs to welcome his exploration. Stref maintained the pressure, pushing his finger through the folds of supple skin, he grazed over the nub of her womanhood.

The startled gasp made Stref’s blood pump faster around his body. He was grateful for the fact he was lying down, as he would have been left dizzy by the overwhelming sensation. Wrestling with his own urge to dominate, Stref eased his fingers into the moist heat. His touch traced the path that he longed to take with the pulsing member that danced between his legs frantic for release. Lena gyrated against his hand, rubbing herself with a feline purr.

Stref took a deep breath, fighting to gain control over his lustful thoughts. He felt as horny as an untrained youth at a time where he longed to be a considerate lover. Lena’s soft voice calling his name was the final straw. He pressed her slowly onto her back and pulled off her garment in one fluid movement.

Lena’s hands came up to encircle his neck and her face sought his in the darkness, her lips seeking a kiss. Stref was happy to oblige. He claimed her mouth as he claimed her maidenhood, pushing through her initial cry of pain until he heard a gasp of pleasure. His deep thrusts quickly brought Lena to the brink of desire and he held her still as she clenched against him, crying out again and again as waves of orgasm assailed her.

Stref held off, trying to clear his mind of the pure sweetness of the woman he held. He felt wet tears on his shoulders as she bit into his flesh as her desire was spent. Not yet sated, Stref began another series of thrusts. He started slow and gradually built up to a frantic pace that he knew he could not maintain. As he felt Lena pulse around him for the second time, he allowed himself one final surge of strength. His seed burst forth, starting at the base of his erection and soaring up and out, deep into Lena’s body. His throbbing ecstasy subsided and he lay spent on the soft form below him.

The gentle sobbing brought out Stref’s compassionate side. He rolled his weight off her and pulled her into his embrace.

“I never cry,” Lena sobbed, hiccupping as she tried to control her emotions.

“I won’t tell a soul,” he said into her hair. “Sleep now, lass. We have a wedding to prepare for on the morrow.”

Stref smiled as her head nestled down onto his chest. Her breathing soon told him she had slipped into dreaming, but he lay open eyed as he considered the range of complications that the new day would bring. For now though, he revelled in the bond they shared before he too joined her in slumber.

Chapter Ten

When Lena’s eyes opened to greet the day, the first thing she noticed was the ache between her legs. Simultaneously, she noticed that she was alone.

Reaching a tentative hand to touch her tender crotch, Lena closed her eyes and shook her head as bittersweet memories filled her mind. She recalled gasps of pleasure, moans of delight, a short stabbing pain, and then a sensation like none she’d ever experienced. She then remembered tears. Even the memory evoked a prickling sensation behind her eyes.

“Surely, not again,” she scolded herself.

“Again? Now that sounds like an offer I would find hard to refuse,” growled a low voice from the mouth of the cave.

Lena’s face flooded with colour as the words were accompanied by a soft, mocking laugh. It was as if Stref Harris was trying to make her blush.

“I can picture the rosy hue of your cheeks,” he teased. “Now come here and eat some of this meat before I forget that I have a wedding to attend today.”

Lena wrapped the skin around her shoulders to keep out the chill of the early hour and shuffled over to the opening. She gasped as she saw the glory of the sunrise that glowed in the sky before her.

“Alas, I have been spoiled by the beauty of something far greater than a mere sunrise,” Stref continued his mocking tone. “The colours of the morning sky pale when compared to the glow of your skin this morning.”

“Be quiet and hand me that food,” Lena’s stomach rumbled in support of her demand.

“I managed to cook a catch in a pit before dawn,” he explained as her eyebrow rose in curiosity as she chewed the fragrant game.

“I could have helped with the hunt,” she stated.

“Mmmm, I forgot I was in the presence of Green Bow.” Stref pulled out his own bow and passed it to her, followed at once by a sharpened arrow. “Show me your aim, or is it a fabrication that you are the most skilful marksman in the low and highlands alike?”

Used to the challenge of men, Lena flexed the bow and lifted it to eye level.

“It has less give than I would expect,” she frowned as she tested the tension.

Finally, nodding with satisfaction, she lowered the bow and regarded Stref with a hint of a smile.

“Name your target.”

Stref surveyed the surrounding area then gestured to a young sapling that stood about fifty paces from the cave.

“There is a prominent knot on the side of that young fir tree. My best archer could embed his arrow in the centre of that knot.”

“Very well,” Lena smiled with confidence.

She drew back the bow and pulled it towards her with one fluid movement. The taut string snapped free, and the arrow sailed straight and true through the air. It clipped the side of the tree and landed a few feet further on among a pile of leaves.

“So close,” Stref acknowledge graciously.

“Pick it up,” said Lena softly.

Stref set off towards the arrow. For a fleeting second, Lena contemplated escape. As if at the same time Stref realised his mistake in leaving her unattended, he spun around and their eyes locked. Lena gave her head a small shake. Stref grinned and Lena blushed at the boyish delight she saw reflected in his eyes. He turned back and reached the arrow with long strides. He bent to retrieve it then let out a long whistle of appreciation. Bringing back the arrow, Lena was not surprised to see the knot of wood firmly impaled onto the arrowhead.

“I had a good teacher,” Lena said simply as she returned to the cave to prepare for the journey ahead.

“A strict one too, I imagine,” Stref noted. “Such skill takes dedication and many hours of practise.”

As she arranged her clothing, Lena recalled the hours of practise her father had made her endure. He was not satisfied until she had bested each and every archer in his personal guard. Lena could have shot the arrow double the distance. She was able to shoot the buttons off of a tunic without grazing the skin below. At feasts and tournaments, Lena would be paraded around like a performing animal. She would be set challenge after challenge by increasingly inebriated men, each sure they could best her; each left ashamed that they had been beaten by a woman. Her father had joked that it would take some man to be her mate. A man that was sure enough of himself not to be intimidated by her strength—a man like Stref Harris.

The thought made Lena blush again. She licked her lips, remembering the kisses that had rained down upon her in the dark of night. Two arms drew her forwards.

“That display of archery was very enticing,” Stref whispered into her hair. “But not as enticing as the way you lick your lips when you are thinking of the kisses we shared.”

“How…? I mean… What do you mean?” Lena stuttered.

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean.” Stref used his hand to cup her face and draw it around to meet his. He lowered his lips and took possession of hers. Stref pushed his tongue into her mouth and pulled her into him.

Lena could feel the bulge of his arousal. She stood on tiptoe, moving herself into a position so she could rub against his hardening crotch. Her tender core ached for his penetration.

As if sensing her need, Stref pulled Lena free from her clothing and lifted her off the ground while she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their kissing reached fever pitch and Stref cursed as he manoeuvred them against the smooth cave wall.

“Soon, my love, soon,” he murmured as he broke the kiss to disrobe.

Lena buried her face into the warmth of his shoulder, sinking her teeth into the toned flesh. Stref swore, loudly, before moving his hands to cup her breasts. His thumbs grazed over the hardened nipples. Lena felt helpless with desire. The weightlessness she felt, combined with the sensations that were tracking straight to her core, was causing her body to spasm in pleasure.