Untamed Hearts (A Highland Hearts Novella) (Entangled Edge) (9 page)

He watched Jonet and Ann walk back in through the bailey gate, having taken the children safely to their temporary beds in the village. As the evening wore on, more whisky flowed, and the jokes became bawdier. Will relaxed by the fire while watching Jonet out of his periphery near the castle steps. She laughed with Ann, who handed her a flask. So, the woman imbibed a bit. Maybe the whisky would loosen her tongue. He saw her look his way, and he met her gaze with a smile and nod.

Jonet took the flask and walked over, sitting on the bench beside him but not touching.

“The children in their beds?” he asked casually.

“Tucked in tight and tired.”

“Are you tired?” he asked, not sure where he should try to take the conversation. Confound it. His stomach was tight like a nervous lad’s.

She shook her head. “Would ye like a sip? ’Tis good Scot’s whisky.”

His finger brushed hers as he took the offering. The fire slid easily down his throat. “Oooh, ’tis good.”

“Be careful, ’tis potent stuff,” she warned.

His eyebrows rose. “I’ll do that.” Though he doubted any sip of spirits could affect him much. Drinking was a regular competition with the crew. He could certainly hold his liquor.

“So what do ye do on that ship to pass the time? Ye mentioned cooking strange concoctions, and ye play the drums and, of course, keep the ship working.”

“There’s always something to do,” he said and crossed his legs at the ankles before the fire. He glanced at her and grinned. “We have contests.”

“Contests?”

“Aye, drinking, throwing the dagger, dancing, even poetry.”

She laughed. “I can’t see a bunch of pirates sitting on deck reciting poetry.”

He chuckled with her. “Well now, ’tis not the type of poetry ye would hear in a gentlewoman’s parlor.”

“Oh?” She took another sip of the whisky, her little mouth closing on the swallow. “What type of poetry do pirates recite?”

“The scandalous kind,” he whispered against her ear.

She turned to him. “Give me an example.” She raised one eyebrow as if daring him.

He grinned up at the stars overhead, his mind quickly fastening on a rhyme. “The competition lies in coming up with something that makes sense, rhymes, and is terribly shocking.”

She snapped her fingers a couple times. “Very well, let’s see ye come up with something fresh and new.

He nodded, looked at her, his grin wicked, and began.

“There once was a girl from Madrid,

Who married a dandified prig,

So at night she would creep

To her bloke down the street

Who loved her clean out of her wig.”

She stared at him, her lips parting for a moment until a frown emerged.

“I know, ’tis rough,” he said.

She took another little sip. “It didn’t shock me. I just don’t like the subject matter.”

“Oh, how about this then.

There once was a lass from Druim

Who had breasts as pale as the moon.

With midnight-black curls

And blue eyes with green swirls

I’d gift her my heart in a spoon.”

Jonet’s frown melted rapidly with her laughter. “In a spoon? Ye wouldn’t win the contest with that one.”

“And it wasn’t nearly shocking enough,” he agreed.

“Green swirls?” she asked and blinked.

He stared into her eyes. “Well, ’tis more like little rays of sun, but swirls rhymed with curls.”

She had moved closer, within easy reach of a kiss, but he waited. She was skittish after the incident in the barn. “Beautiful, midnight curls around emerald eyes,” he said low, letting his compliment sink in. Her lips were perfect and soft and would taste like Jonet and pure Scot’s whisky, free and untamed.

She blinked and straightened back as if catching herself.
Blast!
She glanced around and settled back on her bench. Will hid his frustration in a relaxed smile and took a swallow of the burning liquid.

“Here’s one that will completely shock you,” he boasted, trying to recapture the lightheartedness that seemed to be slipping.

“Ye might find shocking me harder than ye imagine.”

“Ah now, something wicked.” He glanced at the heavens again as he spun together another quick ditty.

“There once was a girl in a book

Who swung from a rope on a hook.

With her legs open wide

So her lover could slide

In and out, in and out, ’til she shook.”

Jonet choked a bit on her laugh, her hand against her lips. “Quite scandalous,” she said. “And quite ridiculous.”

He laughed with her, thankful she wasn’t prudish. Aye, they would get along fine. “What is ridiculous?”

“A rope and hook, like we used to hoist Meg up to help the birth.” She shook her head.

“I believe,” he said and took up the stick to scratch a scene that had caught his eye from a book his father’s favorite whore had, “that the ropes hold the woman’s ankles and back so she hovers over the bed…”

Jonet stopped laughing and stared between him and the drawing. “Impossible.” She grabbed the flask from his other hand and took a bigger drink. “Have ye…?” She pointed to the picture.

“Nay, but I’ve seen it in a book.”

“A book? What the hell kind of book would have that in it?”

Will rubbed the picture away with his boot. “One from the Far East. Adela, my father’s friend, she runs a brothel. She traded for it.”

“A book with drawings like that?”

He grinned wickedly. “Lots of drawings showing what a man and his lady can do to one another in privacy.”

“Tupping?”

He nodded.

“There is more than one way?” she asked softly.

He stopped the chuckle in his throat. She was serious, and he surely wasn’t going to make her feel stupid for her lack of sexual prowess. Quite the opposite. The fact that there had been no others showing her the many ways of feeling pleasure, that it could be him alone, warmed him. He laid his big paw over her hand. “Aye, Jonet, there are many ways, and the fact that you don’t know any but one,” he smiled, “makes you—”

“Ignorant,” she finished and glanced away, though she didn’t tug back her hand.

“Nay.” He caught her chin with one finger and prodded her gaze to his. “Fresh and utterly enticing.”

She blinked twice and leaned in. The kiss was tentative and too brief. She sat back. “Show me another picture.” She glanced down at the ground. “One ye prefer.” Her eyes opened wide. “Actually nay, I don’t want to know what ye’ve done.” She flapped her hand. “Just what ye think is interesting.”

Thank the good Lord.
He certainly didn’t want to go into his past exploits with women who were nothing like his pure Highland lass. Suddenly, the thought of his past debauchery hurt his head and tightened his shoulders. He rubbed his hands over his face.

“Come now.” Jonet nudged him. “Something else must have stood out to ye.”

He nodded and chuckled, picking up the stick again. He glanced around, but the children were all to bed and most of the adults were wandering off for the night. “Here’s one,” he said and slashed the ground with quick strokes. He lowered his voice. “So the lady kneels and leans on her hands while the gentleman comes behind her over her back.”

“That works?” she whispered.

“Aye,” he said and he stopped himself from giving his opinion of just how well it worked. He rubbed his boot over the dirt and started fresh with another. “Here’s one where the lady lies on her back with her feet up here.”

She stared intently while he drew several other positions ending with one with the woman kneeling on the bed and the bloke standing behind her. She leaned against his other arm as he drew and studied the quick diagrams. He froze when he felt her breath on his ear.

“Ann said that one of the maids at Druim put her mouth here on a man,” she whispered, moving his stick. She looked at him, her face so close. She blinked, and he could hardly breathe. He forced an inhale, and a grin melted across his face. “I hope the bloke knew enough to return the favor by putting his mouth here,” he said and moved the stick back to the woman.

She turned back to stare down at the end of his stick. “Really?” She studied him. “And ye do that to a woman?”

He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “How about you don’t ask me about what I’ve done with other ladies, and I won’t ask you about your past sins with Ewan Brody.”

Jonet sat up straight, her brows drawn until they relaxed with a little laugh. “Ye think I’ve lain with Ewan?”

Will’s stomach knotted tight. He surely didn’t want to think about Jonet with anyone, but especially the dashing Highlander that his sister had fallen for. “I’ve learned not to ask a question when I don’t wish to be burdened with the answer. You should consider that before you ask.” He nodded to emphasize his point.

Jonet laughed, her eyes sparkling with the firelight. “’Tis a bargain.” She nodded, but continued quickly. “But I’ve never slept with Ewan. A few kisses, perhaps.”

Will watched her. She didn’t look like she was lying, and she’d have no need to. The knot in his gut began to melt away. “Well then, that’s the best news I’ve heard since stepping into Scotland.”

Her laughter was so fresh, honest. She took a drink of the whisky they had been sharing all evening and looked back at the obscene drawing. “So…ye know how to do some of these things, what ye’ve seen in this book.” She said it like a statement instead of a question so he didn’t answer, just smiled. “And,” she looked at him, “ye’ve said ye’d like to teach me.”

Will’s eyebrows shot up. Had he said that?

“Teach me to throw the
sghian dubh
. So perhaps,” her voice dropped, “ye could teach me a few other things as well. An independent woman should be knowledgeable.”

Only a whore needed to know about the positions in Adela’s book, and, bloody hell, there was no way he’d allow Jonet Montgomery to become a whore, but he wasn’t going to argue with her if he would be her teacher. “My lessons could start right now,” he said. “Though I don’t have private quarters.”

“I do,” she said a bit breathlessly. “I can ask Ann to sleep with Margery and Jane and the bairns. I know she’d do it.”

Will’s heart thudded in him as parts of him woke instantly to the possibility of peeling the beautiful woman out of her clothes, showing her the wild ways of pure pleasure. He breathed deeply to gain control. “Jonet, ’tis the whisky talking.” He shook his head. “I won’t take you to bed when you aren’t clearheaded.”

She grabbed his shoulder and leveled him a stare. “Will Wyatt, I’ve been sipping whisky since I could walk. These are things I never knew existed, things I should know.”

The woman put up a good argument, especially in his current physical state.

Jonet glanced around until she spied Ann talking to a couple Druim lads. “I’ll meet ye in my room in quarter of an hour, and Will,” she said and stood, a grin playing about her lips, “don’t be late.”

Chapter Seven

Jonet ran the rag, dampened with lilac-scented water, over her face, down her neck and chest. She rubbed her arms and dipped the cloth back in the basin. She grabbed the brush and worked it through her hair. It was clean as she’d bathed after waking from her nap before the bairn’s blessing, but she wanted to brush the wood smoke from it. She barely noticed the snarls and stroked right through them.

What had she been thinking telling Will to meet her here, asking a giddy, shocked Ann to bunk somewhere else?
Hell.
It wasn’t the whisky as she had an exceptional tolerance to any spirits. Perhaps it had been his drawings, the knowledge that there were other ways to lay with a man, other ways that had she known, may have kept Machar from straying.

The whoring lasses that had lured him easily away had called her cold, not able to keep her man. Well, now she would learn what it meant to keep one. She wasn’t cold, just ignorant. She’d only been sixteen, and all her mother had told her was that her husband would teach her what she needed to know. Machar hadn’t, but Will Wyatt was going to.

Jonet glanced at the brush full of her dark strands. If she kept it up, she’d be bald by the time he arrived. Lord, how many minutes had passed since she’d snuck through the nearly empty great hall to her room? Five minutes, ten? She raced to Ann’s basin of fresh water and rubbed her teeth with a damp cloth and chewed some mint she kept from the kitchen garden. She sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off her boots. Should she be undressed? Nay, a man like Will might want to undress a lass. She stood up to bank the fire and paced along the rug. Maybe she should be lying on the covers. Nay, she didn’t want to look like a whore. It was bad enough that she had invited him to her rooms.
God’s teeth.
What to do? She’d already used the jake on the way up, and she’d washed, brushed, and drawn back the coverlet. There was nothing else to do but wait, so she stood in the center of the room doing nothing but trying not to faint.

A soft rap on the door made her jump, and before she could move, Will slid in and softly lowered the bar across it. Jonet forced herself to drop her clasped hands so they hung by her sides. Will walked directly to her and looked down into her eyes. If he asked her if she was sure she wanted to do this, she might back out.

“Kiss me.” Her voice broke the nervous silence in the room.

Will’s eyebrow rose, giving him the wicked look of a scoundrel, and Jonet’s heart raced. “Aye now,” he said low, his voice once again like velvet over pebbles. “I like a woman who tells me what she wants.”

He lowered his face, his lips soft yet insistent, his hands tangling through her hair to nudge her face to the side. With her first little moan, Will tasted her fully. She met his kiss with a building one of her own, plunging into the wild sensations his mouth provoked. Where else could that tongue work wonders? She shuddered on a pulse of lightning-fast heat.

His hands roamed with luxurious strokes and circles across her back and down her spine to cup her arse. She felt his upper arms bulge under her fingers as he lifted her to fit intimately against him. She gasped at the feel of him, so large, as he rubbed through her skirts, right where she ached. Lord, he probably knew all the places she ached.

“Oh Lord, Will,” she rasped as his mouth kissed a hot path down her exposed neck. She tipped her head back to give him all the access he could want. “Ye’re amazing.”

He chuckled against her collarbone, then lowered her until her toes touched the floor. “And you’re exquisite. We make a good pair.” He inched her bodice down, and Jonet realized he’d unfastened all the ties and hooks down her back. Her gown slid off her body to pool in a whisper of wool and linen around her feet, leaving her in only a thin, white chemise. The heat from the flames warmed her back, and Will’s solid body warmed her front. With each kiss and stroke, a fire heated her from within. Hot. She felt so hot.

His fingers stroked her bare shoulders, sliding under the lace edging there. He teased more kisses along her neck and back up to her lips, and Jonet only barely registered the
swoosh
of the undergarment joining her gown at her feet. Will leaned back for a moment, his eyes raking down her naked form. “God’s teeth, Jonet,” he groaned. “I’ve never seen such beauty before.”

She held her breath as he stroked from her neck down her skin to her breast. He palmed the weight, tweaking her peak, and she shut her eyes at the pure pleasure of his touch, of his praise. The more he caressed, the faster the fire ran through her, straight from his touch to deep within her pelvis until her legs felt weak. She must have leaned against him because he lifted her under the knees and, in two great strides, settled her down on the furs across the bed. He looked at her as she scooted up the bed to the top. The fur tickled across her skin, and she felt wild and naughty to be completely naked with him.

“Touch yourself,” he said softly, and she raised her hand to her stomach to stroke a lazy circle up to capture her own breasts. She pinched one like he’d done, and he groaned, rubbing a hand down his torso to his own obvious arousal.

“It seems to me,” she said, “that in all those sketches by the fire, the lass wasn’t the only one naked.”

In a flash of fabric, Will yanked his shirt off over his head, exposing his massive chest. Little scars crisscrossed his tan skin with one long line down the side of his tapered torso. He moved to the edge of the bed closest to her. She pointed to his pants. “How about those?”

He grinned at her boldness. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

She swallowed. “I’m no maid.”

“Nay, you are not,” he agreed and slowly untied his near-to-bursting trews. Before he was all the way undone, he crawled across the bed to kiss her. Jonet’s eyes fluttered shut as the feelings once again heated through her. His kisses were so carnal, so hot and wet, and she loved them. He was uninhibited and demanded the same from her. And unlike with Machar, she responded—bloody hell, she responded! His strokes, his mouth, every part of Will attacked her worry, dissolving it into a stream of fire. There was no questioning or plotting on what to do next, only answering and moving to the natural impulses within her.

She heard his trews slide onto the floor and felt his naked body against her own. But instead of the nervous cold that had engulfed her at Machar’s touch, Jonet dissolved into the warmth of sensation. He explored her nakedness. She laughed softly as he wiggled his finger into her naval, then shuddered as he moved lower.

Jonet stroked his broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. The power there would be intimidating with anyone else, but somehow, she trusted this wild man. She slid her palms down his back as he kissed her, marveling at the feel of his skin over strength, down to his bare arse. He growled in the back of his throat at her light exploration and moved his fingers, making her gasp as he touched places she didn’t even know existed.

He left her mouth, trailing wet heat down her neck and chest to fasten his lips around her nipple. She gasped as he pulled and teased and felt her hips respond in a rhythm so natural she didn’t need to think. She let her mind wander, taking in the achy pleasure tightening the muscles through her body. She tried to touch him. She should touch him, make him feel as good as he made her feel, but she kept losing her place as he stroked.

“Relax, Jonet,” he whispered. “This is all about you.”

“But it should be both ways,” she said breathlessly.

“In time. Right now,” he swallowed hard as if he were having trouble speaking for a moment, “let me show you the pleasure of loving.”

He moved his strong fingers, and she groaned. “Let me love you,” he whispered and came up to kiss her panting lips. “You are so hot, Jonet.”

She agreed completely. Heat coursed through her as her abdomen ached, coiling tighter and tighter toward some unknown conclusion. “Please,” Jonet begged, though she didn’t know what she pleaded for. “Will.” She moaned and felt him shift over her, nudging her knees apart.

He kissed her again with wild heat, slanting and tasting and breathing into one another. He braced himself above her, his huge body engulfing her small form in the furs. Yet she didn’t feel small. She felt large and alive and nearly bursting. He looked deeply into her eyes and drove into her. Jonet gasped, and he groaned. Full, so incredibly full.

“Good?” he asked.

“Aye, very good,” she whispered, and he half smiled, half groaned again.

He started to move, and she wrapped her arms around him and met each thrust. Every sensation heightened the ache in her core. Kisses and strokes and Will’s talented fingers worked across and within her body, tugging and luring, sliding and rocking, building the inferno higher.

“Will,” she murmured against his lips as they raced together, two people moving as one. He reached down between their bodies and latched once again onto her nipple with his mouth. Her gasp rolled into a moan as Jonet felt the ache explode within her. Wave after wave of pleasure undulated along her body. In a heartbeat, Will followed her, his own deep voice filling the room as she continued her cry.

The pleasure continued to course through her as she held Will’s body, her legs wrapped around his hips. After long moments, he carefully untangled her and rolled to his side, pulling her close into his chest as he kissed her head.

“Are you good?” he asked.

She took a few more breaths and felt him tense as if waiting for her answer. She glanced up into his eyes and smiled. “I don’t think good describes how wonderful I feel.”

He relaxed and kissed her damp brow. “I completely agree.”

He watched her closely, and she propped up on one elbow. “And we didn’t even do any of those things ye drew at the fire. That was,” she glanced down their lengths, “the normal way of tupping.”

He put his hands behind his head to lean back, looking up at her as her hair cascaded around them like a curtain. “That felt better than normal, don’t you think?” he teased with a wink.

“Aye, but we didn’t swing from ropes or any of that.” Jonet couldn’t understand how an act that had left her feeling so terrible with Machar had been so incredibly pleasurable with Will.

Will shook his head. “You don’t need to do all those things to feel good, Jonet. You just need to let the fire consume you, let go and experience the feelings.” That she had, because Will had led her there. She felt tears at the back of her eyes and blinked.

Will’s smile fell, and he sat up, this thumb brushing under her eye. Hell, one of the tears must have broken free. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I’ve just never felt so good before.” She offered him a smile. “I had no idea it could be like that.”

Will ran his fingers through her hair to cup her head. His smile returned. “Only with me, Jonet. Keep that in mind.”

Was he teasing? His grin made it seem so. She smiled back. “So all those drawings, different positions, different places to put one’s mouth, we won’t be doing those things?”

He chuckled. “Nay, woman, we most certainly will be doing those things, too. I just thought we should start with the basics first.” The words raced through her, bringing back a slight ache, but this time she knew what it was. Jonet reached up to wrap her hands around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. She felt him stir against her and knew, without a worry, that they would get around to at least a few of those other things. It would be a long, wonderful night.

…

Will woke with the call of the cock somewhere down in the courtyard. He stretched his arms overhead and chuckled as he spied the light bruising of teeth Jonet had given his biceps hours ago during one of her peaks. He turned his head in the furs to see her dark hair spilling around her. She still slept, and he heard her soft breathing through parted lips. What a beauty. Soft and brave and full of life. And swiving with her was far beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. His Highland lass was lusty and strong, demanding and giving, oh was she giving… He’d been shocked by her desire to please him, wonderfully shocked. Would she blush when she woke? Would she pinken when he whispered to her through the day, reminding her of what they had shared, what they would share again? Because he planned to continue her lessons in pleasure. Him the master and her the student, though by morning, she was taking him to heights he’d never known before, had never known could exist.

He watched her slumber, her hair a mess of riotous curls, her dark lashes along her creamy skin. Aye, she should sleep. She must be exhausted after the hours of play. He should be tired, too, but watching her there filled him with energy as if he could climb the masts in seconds flat or swing across the deck on rope lines.

He chuckled then, seeing his rope tied to the bed frame overhead. She’d insisted they try one of the pictures he’d drawn, and he’d hurried to retrieve it, though they’d abandoned the position when she grew desperate.

The fur over her shoulder had slipped down, leaving the curve of her breast exposed. Another inch and her nipple would be a feast for his view. He tugged gently, and into the dull gray of dawn, the perfectly formed breast came.
Bloody hell.
How could he already be so hot for her again?

“See something ye like?” she whispered, bringing his gaze back to her eyes.

“Aye, very much,” he said and gave her his infamously wicked grin. She pushed up on her elbow, letting the fur slide to her waist as she kissed him. Lord, she tasted like him mixed with her own sweet flavor. He inhaled in her hair, savoring the smell of their bodies together mixed with the faint smells of flowers and wood smoke.

She giggled. “How can ye be ready again?”

“I have no idea, not after satisfying my lusty woman all night.”

She blushed then, and he winked so she’d know he teased. He shook his head, letting his grin turn to a real smile. “To tell you truth, Jonet, last night was the most lovely I’ve had.”