The Trouble with Highlanders (12 page)

“And I admit the idea of making ye weep with pleasure is something I covet.” There was some sort of promise in his tone. She opened her eyes and straightened up to see his expression, but he lowered himself to one knee before she got a good look.

“What… what are ye doing?”

He tossed up the edge of her chemise, completely baring her sex.

“Giving ye something to shock the priest with, and living up to me boasting about positions holy men have likely never heard of.”

She still didn't understand, but Norris didn't grant her time to debate the matter. As he held her steady with one hand on each of her hips, he leaned forward and boldly licked her slit.

“Ye cannae!”

“Oh, but I just did, lass.”

And he wasn't finished. He returned to lap the exposed center of her sex with a long swipe of his tongue. Pleasure ripped through her, threatening to tear her in half. Her clitoris throbbed so hard she almost climaxed before he'd finished. She'd failed to draw breath and had to drag in air once he'd lifted his mouth, but it went rushing out again when he treated her clitoris to the same treatment he'd given her nipple. He sucked it. Drawing the little button into his mouth while worrying it with the tip of his tongue.

She twisted and strained, caught in a storm of need and impending pleasure. Norris held her steady as he continued his assault on her body. He would release her for a brief moment while teasing the rest of her slit with his tongue, then return to her clitoris to suck again. Her passage ached, demanding to be filled, but that need didn't stop the tightening under his mouth or the explosion of pleasure that erupted beneath his lips. It twisted through her, raising gooseflesh along her limbs. When it was over, she was nothing but a mass of limp, quivering muscles. Norris chuckled softly, delivering a few final laps before rising and gathering her close.

“That's known as being ‘Frenched.'” He rubbed her back gently, soothing her strained muscles. “More than one lady of court enjoys it before her wedding, because she can still fly a bloodied sheet.”

“That is… insane…” Her heart was still thumping hard, making anything but panting difficult.

“Ye sounded as though ye enjoyed it well enough.”

She swatted his shoulder. “I meant the part about flying the sheet, ye rogue.”

He offered her a wolfish grin. “Just because a woman has been Frenched, or Frenched a man, does nae mean she is nae a maiden. Ye do nae lose that until ye fuck.”

The head of his cock teased the opening of her passage, slipping easily between the slick folds of her sex. She sighed, and her body burst with renewed need. She lifted her hips for his next thrust, holding onto his shoulders while he drove his entire length into her.

“Which I've always found to be a good companion to Frenching.” He groaned softly, and his cock stretched her passage as he lingered deep inside her for a long moment. “But I confess I enjoyed pushing ye to the edge of madness while ye could do naught but wait for me to grant ye release.”

There was a hard note of savageness in his tone. She could see it in his eyes, as well. Part of her wanted to rebel, and she drew her fingernails down the sides of his throat in a slow scratching.

He shuddered and lost the control to remain still. The table began to shake with the strength he used to work his body against hers. He pressed her back until she was lying across the surface of the dark wood, her breasts bouncing with every thrust.

“Perfect,” he growled, primitive satisfaction glowing in his eyes. His attention moved from the mounds of her breasts to the point where his flesh entered hers. He looked every inch a savage, but the sight of his delight unleashed something deep inside her. It rose up, brushing every learned behavior aside in favor of pure reaction. She lifted her hips, meeting his thrusts and moaning as pleasure filled her. She felt wild, and strained to move faster.

“That's it, lass, do nae be content with what I give ye. Demand more from me.”

“I shall!”

She sat up, clamping his hips between her thighs, no longer content to lay spread for his taking. She gripped his shoulders and arched to take his thrusts. Her heart was racing, but she was absorbed in the moment, in the wildness. It consumed her and gave her the greatest sense of freedom she'd ever known. There was only what she wanted and the man who could give it to her.

“Yes,” he snarled against her neck, pounding into her body in thrusts so continuous that she couldn't decide where they ended or started. It was a constant, flowing motion, one that fed the need tearing her apart.

“Yes!”
Norris shouted again as his body went rigid and his seed began to flood her. That last, hot spurt was the final sensation she needed to unleash another jolting climax. It shredded her, swamping her with wave after wave of blinding rapture. This time it was deeper, and she couldn't contain it all inside her. She moaned, lowly and loudly, as the walls of her passage tried to milk the last drops of seed from him.

She'd have collapsed onto the tabletop if he hadn't supported her. His breathing was harsh, and he held her with only one arm while the other was pressed against the table for support.

“Ye enchant me, Daphne.” He pressed a kiss against her neck. A soft, tender one before he nuzzled her hair. “And then ye destroy me.”

It was an admission, one that touched something inside her, something she was uncertain of. For a moment, she felt closer to him than to any other person she'd known in her life, more understood by him than any other.

The doors suddenly opened, letting in a gust of morning air. She jerked, stiffened, and sent her head into his chin. He didn't move away; instead he held her still so he shielded her.

“Yer mistress will be ready for ye in a moment.” There was a firm note of command in his voice. “Henceforth, ye shall knock before entering. Be gone.”

The maids looked at the floor and scurried from the chamber. Horror flooded her, rendering her speechless.

“Do nae look so stricken, Daphne.”

Her temper flared up. “Do nae tell me how to feel.” She shoved him back, snarling softly when he stood fast and refused to let her recover her dignity by closing her thighs. He still gripped her hips, and she drew in a harsh breath when his cock stiffened again.

“I much prefer experiencing how I make ye feel, Daphne. Be very sure of that.”

He cupped her nape again, holding her steady for a hard kiss. There was no mercy in it, and he allowed her no escape. In that moment she felt claimed. What bothered her the most was how much she liked the sensation. He lifted his lips away from hers and granted her a moment to look into his eyes. The green orbs were alight with flames so intense they threatened to send enough heat into her to make her malleable.

He stepped away, and his kilt fell down to hide his erection.

“And be sure that I do nae care so much what anyone else says. This matter is between us.”

He was already on his way to the door by the time she scrambled off the table.

“What do ye mean? What matter?”

He turned and offered her an arrogant look. “The matter of ye meeting me demands, lass, as me personal guest.”

“Why ye… ye…”

“Blackguard?” he offered.

She searched her mind, trying to recall the foulest language she had ever overheard.

“Presumptuous, arrogant, rutting savage!”

He laughed at her, tossing his head back so his pale hair went flying. When he looked back at her, his eyes were full of devilish intent.

“No' too bad, me cock-sucking bitch.”

“I have nae sucked yer—” She slapped a hand over her mouth when she realized just what she was saying. “Well, I have nae.”

“But I'm stiff again just thinking about ye trying yer hand at mastering me.”

“I would never—”

Norris wasn't waiting for her to finish. He tugged on the corner of his bonnet and opened the chamber door. The maids were clustered in front of it, clearly listening at the crack. They squealed when he yanked both sides wide open, and tumbled out of his way in a swish of burgundy wool.

She would never suck his cock.

Why
not?

Her cheeks burned, and she struggled not to race after him and argue the point. The blunt reality of what might happen if she did kept her still. She turned her back on the open doorway and struggled to keep her mind from latching onto his suggestion. Oh, it had been a suggestion sure enough.

One
ye
would
nae
mind
trying.

She was wicked to the core, because the idea of reducing him to the same quivering state she'd experienced appealed to her—more like beckoned. Like being drawn to the only candle on a winter night, her very nature made her seek it out, even if she knew every inch of the room she was in. She'd still long for light.

Long
for
Norris…

Just as he'd sought her out. She drew a deep breath, slightly frightened by just how strong their reactions were. It wasn't normal, possibly wasn't sane.

God help them both.

***

Norris looked up, not because he heard anything, but because he sensed someone. Asgree lowered herself and waited for him to beckon her into the laird's chamber. His father had long since retired, leaving Norris the stacks of letters and books that never seemed to be finished. He waved Asgree forward, happy to have something else to occupy his mind.

“The lass is too thin,” his head of house informed him.

Norris didn't have to respect Asgree, but he'd learned to. The woman was wise and had the most amazing way of discovering information. She gathered it from a large network of extended family relations who worked all around her. The damnable part about it was the woman was almost always correct.

“Why are ye telling me that?”

Asgree's eyes narrowed in reprimand for just a moment. “Because ye told many she was here in case she was carrying. Ye could have left her on her own land if a bastard was yer worry. That is nae yer reason, for she is hardly the first lass ye've dallied with.”

He was suddenly seven years old and caught with his finger in the sugar drawer. Asgree's lips rose into a small, knowing smile.

“Now that ye've reduced me to a lad willing to beg yer pardon for filching sweets before supper, tell me why ye came to me. Ye never do anything without a reason, woman.”

The table in front of him was stacked high with letters and rolled documents that needed his attention. His private secretary was scratching away with a quill at a letter. But he was far more interested in why Asgree had interrupted him.

“Ye are far too good at putting me in me place, even now that I'm grown.”

Pride appeared on her face for a moment before she focused on the matter at hand. “She's too thin to carry or bleed. The lass told me she was at a convent for the last year.”

“Aye, she was.”

“There is the reason she is nae bleeding regularly. The body must be nourished in order for a woman's courses to be consistent. I'd say she is nae with child, nor likely to be until she gains some weight.”

There was a note of warning in Asgree's eyes that Norris had seen before. He was accustomed to seeing it when she was defending his father or himself.

“Ye like her,” he stated in a firm tone.

“I respect her.”

Norris pulled in a deep breath. The head of house was known well for her high standards. Many a maid had struggled to earn just such words from Asgree.

“It would have been a simple thing for her to wed the man her father contracted with no care for the suffering that resulted. There are nae many lasses with that sort of strength. It would nae please me to see her suffer.” Asgree nodded firmly.

She lowered herself, but there was a glint in her eyes that sent him a warning, even as she offered him a courtesy meant to be submissive. There was no mistaking her threat, but he discovered himself grinning after the door closed behind her. Daphne had made a conquest.

“The insanity is spreading, it seems,” Gahan muttered from one of the side arches. His half brother enjoyed shadows as much as Norris did but was able to seek them more often, since he was not the heir.

“So it seems. Perhaps ye'll admit I am nae as mad as ye thought last night, since Asgree has a good opinion of me guest.”

Gahan looked at the secretary, whose hand had gone still. The man was looking at the parchment, but it was clear he was listening.

“Take yer leave,” Norris instructed.

The secretary was startled, though he fought to control his expression. For a moment, it looked as if he was going to make an argument in favor of remaining. A too familiar sting of suspicion teased Norris's nape. He'd learned to watch his back since he was young. Gahan had, as well. Dunrobin was one of the finest fortifications when it came to protection from attack, but inside its walls there was an entirely different sort of danger to avoid. The secretary lowered himself before disappearing through the doorway.

Gahan abandoned his hiding spot. “I'm thinking it fitting to fetch me sister up.”

“Isla?” Norris grinned. “I thought ye worried I'd toss her skirts, since she's only yer half sister.”

“I'll bust yer jaw if ye do. Ye need a new set of eyes on that little sweet ye've brought here. Better to be sure who her maidservant is loyal to,” Gahan offered. “When it gets out that ye've brought her here to see if she's carrying, I wouldn't doubt someone would be willing to poison her to remove her hold over ye.”

Norris stiffened. “I already warned Asgree about that possibility.”

“Still, me sister is nae even loyal to Asgree, for me sister does nae need a position at Dunrobin to keep a roof over her head, and do nae forget that Asgree is loyal to our father before either of us,” Gahan argued. “And the young king is nae too pleased with young Daphne. Father does like to consider what will bring the most gain out of any situation.”