A Highland Knight's Desire (A Highland Dynasty Book) (35 page)

His hand smoothed up her belly and found a pliable breast. A wicked nipple jutted through her linen shift, and he swirled his fingers around it. He nuzzled into her neck and flicked his tongue from the base of her nape up to her ear. “Are you awake, my love?”

Meg shifted her lovely bottom against him, the slightest moan escaping her lips.

“I want to ravish you.”

She brushed her hand over the fingers toying with her breast. “Aye, Duncan.”

He loved how her lilting voice spoke his name. But then she rolled to face him and rose up on her elbow. “What are you saying? Should you be so vigorous whilst you’re healing?”

He grinned at the concern expressed in her eyes. “To be depraved of your love would injure me far more than any mortal blow.”

Her next breath stuttered as she stared into his eyes and cupped his cheek in her hand. “Love?”

“Aye. I know now that I love you. I cannot bear to think of living without you, Lady Meg.”

She slid her arm around his back and tugged.

Duncan winced.

She quickly released. “I want to wrap you in my arms, but I’m afraid I’ll cause you pain.”

He grasped her fingers and guided them to his hip. “Put your hands on me. You know where.”

With a nervous chuckle, she swirled her fingers across his abdomen, her knuckles lightly brushing the tip of his manhood. Duncan moaned with pleasure. “Your mere touch will make me come undone.”

Her tongue shot out and tapped her top lip. “Is that so bad?”

“Nay, but I want this time to last.” He tugged her shift up. “And first I want to feast my eyes upon your exquisite beauty.”

She emitted another of her nervous chuckles. “I’m not all that much to look at, I say.”

Ignoring her, he encouraged her to lift up while he tugged the gown over her head. Meg’s eyes narrowed with a flash of fear, and he fluttered kisses along her jawline to calm her. After he eased her back onto the mattress, he gradually pulled back to his knees.

“My God, you are exquisite.”

Meg crossed her hands over her body.

“Nay.” Duncan grasped her wrists and gently tugged her hands to her sides. “You’re more beautiful to gaze upon than a marble statue.” He leaned over her and kissed her mouth fully, swirling her tongue with his, igniting a desire he never knew existed within.

She closed her eyes and smoothed her hand over his stubbled jaw, ever so careful to avoid touching his back. Languidly, he trailed kisses down the length of her neck until his mouth met with an erect nipple.

Her full breasts were velvety soft, tipped by rosebuds. Her skin was the color of unblemished porcelain. So many women used lime to make their complexions like Meg’s, but not a one could come close to her loveliness.

Duncan gave in to his passion and caressed her while he suckled her breasts. Rising to his haunches, he smoothed his fingers down the curve of her waist, drinking in her womanly shape. Meg’s hips flared seductively, framing a nest of red curls.

Ever so lightly, he flicked his thumb between her legs while he stretched out beside her. His cock pushed into her hip—so rigid, he wouldn’t last much longer. “Open your legs for me,” he whispered.

She complied and reached for his swollen member. When her fingers wrapped around it, seed leaked from the tip.

Kissing her neck, Duncan slipped his finger inside her and swirled while she stroked him. Without thought, his hips thrust. She milked him with a steady movement. His breathing sped. His mind could think of nothing but claiming her. “I can wait no longer.”

“Make love to me.”

He needed no more encouragement. Climbing between her legs, he hovered over her. “You are so fine to me.”

Her tongue flicked out and smoothed across her top lip. She cast her gaze down and grasped him. Then her crystal blue eyes met his, and she guided his manhood to her opening. Duncan could scarcely breathe for the emotion swirling through his entire body.
This is what it is like to truly love a woman
.

He shuddered as he gradually filled her. Meg moved her hands to his buttocks and grasped him firmly. Then she showed him what she wanted. His cock slipped so deep, it touched her womb. Arching her back, Meg closed her eyes and sighed—the most blissful sound he’d ever heard.

A gasp caught in the back of her throat. The hands on his buttocks became more insistent. Duncan’s heart raced as he thrust his hips. She swirled her mons to increase the friction. Duncan tipped his hips forward to hit the spot he knew would drive her mad, but he could hold on no longer. His eyes rolling to the back of his head, he gave in to his basal desire. Like a blast from a cannon, his seed shot deep within her womb.

Crying out, Meg came undone around him and gasped for breath. Duncan took his weight on his elbows and collapsed above her. “My God, you are decadent.”

She swirled her palms on his buttocks. “As are you.”

He covered her mouth and kissed her, taking his time. But as their mouths became more impassioned, he again grew rigid inside her.

Three times they made love until Duncan’s hunger reminded him they needed to eat. “Are you hungry, my love?”

“Aye. There’s some chicken and bread on the table.”

He grinned. “How fortunate. We have no need to leave this chamber.”

“And I must again tend your wounds.”

As Meg spoke, Duncan was reminded of the needling pain in his back. At least the morning’s activities had given him relief.

Meg climbed out of bed and reached for her shift, but Duncan grasped her wrist and tugged it away. “Are you cold?”

“A wee bit.”

He pulled the plaid from the foot of the bed and draped it over her shoulders. “This will keep you warm, but do not close it all the way. I want to gaze upon you whilst we eat.”

“Very well.” She arched her brows while her gaze meandered down his body. “Only if I can watch you as well.”

“Agreed.” He chuckled and led her to the table. Definitely not a fancy display. He held up the flagon. “It looks like we’ve only whisky to drink.”

“Aye, well, Eoin brought up the food when we arrived last night.”

Duncan poured two modest tots and took the seat opposite Meg. The smell from the chicken made his mouth water. They’d had little to eat on their mad dash from Edinburgh—oatcakes and some bully beef. But rather than savagely dig in, he held the trencher up to Meg. “M’lady.” She tore off a leg and devoured it while he cut off half the breast. “I see I’m not the only one famished.”

“Apologies.” Meg snapped a hand over her mouth. “I could eat that whole chicken myself.”

Duncan chuckled. “When did you last have a good meal?”

Meg tore off a piece of bread. “Goodness, it must have been before I left Tantallon. Once I reached Edinburgh Castle, I was too busy worrying about you to think of eating.”

He washed a bite down with a swig of whisky. “We shall have to see that you’re well fed. You need your strength to keep up with the likes of me.”

An adorable blush rouged her cheeks, and she looked down, as if suddenly shy. “Aye.”

He reached out and covered her hand with his palm. “I haven’t asked you about Arthur. Where has he been through all this?”

“He has business dealings in France.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Duncan cast his gaze toward the hearth.
The Earl of Angus has no idea she’s here.
He bit his bottom lip.

“What?”

“Aside from proving my innocence to the king, I’ll also need to mend fences with your brother.”

Meg stopped chewing and folded her hands in her lap. Clearly the mention of her brother concerned her. Duncan wanted this to be a happy occasion, so he tore off the other leg and handed it to her. “Not to worry—we’ve plenty of time to sort out the ire of kings and earls. And presently, we’ve nothing to enjoy but each other.”

She accepted the leg and ate it—like a lady this time. “I’d like that.”

“Aye.” Since he was unable to sit back, he rested his elbows on the table and studied her. Never before had he been completely smitten, but he would not complain if he were forced to sit in that spot and stare at Lady Meg for hour upon hour. He reached out and spun a curly lock around his finger. “You are so fine to me.”

Meg sipped her whisky and coughed. “It would be nice to have some watered wine.”

Duncan stood. “I shall call for some.”

“Nay.” She didn’t want their time to be interrupted any more than he did, but she would stop sipping whisky this instant, lest she fall into her cups. “We can wait until the evening meal.”

“Very well.”

She stood and gestured to the bed. “Now, let me apply my salve and bandages.”

He lay face down, as he’d done several times for her now. “I think this new concoction is the best yet.”

“Truly? When I returned to Tantallon, I began studying the healing arts with the gardener.”

“A gardener?”

“Aye, he’s the most knowledgeable healer I know.”

“I’d reckon so, if he taught you to concoct that potion.”

“’Tis avens oil. Hubert says ’tis the most important herb in a garden.”

She dribbled some of the oil on Duncan’s back and tenderly rubbed it in. “I wish we could stay here in your chamber forever.” Honestly, since they’d eaten, she’d been worried about how they’d face everyone. Now there would be no question that she was ruined. What would Duncan’s family think when she descended the tower stairs?

“Aye.” His voice sounded dreamy—the avens oil must indeed be working a miracle. “But too many folks are relying on us.”

“You perhaps, but no one cares overmuch about me.”

Duncan rolled to his side and grasped her wrist. “I never want to hear you say that.” He sat up then pulled her into a tight embrace. “
I
care. I will always care.”

“But what will everyone think when we leave this chamber?”

“I am the master of these lands. They will think whatever I want them to think.”

If only she could believe him. “’Tis easy for you to say.”

“It is—”

When the ram’s horn sounded to announce the evening meal, Meg’s stomach squelched.
What will Lady Margaret say?

Once Meg had wrapped Duncan with linen bandages, they dressed. After he helped her reaffix her wimple, they headed down the tower stairs. Her nervousness grew with every footfall. What would everyone think of her now? Duncan had said a number of endearing words, but never once had he mentioned marriage. Meg wanted nothing more than to stay with Duncan, but without a contract of marriage, her brother would interfere for certain.

Before they rounded the last bend, Meg took in a deep breath to steady her wits. Duncan glanced at her with a half-cocked grin. “Everything will be all right, lass.”

She emitted a nervous chuckle, but there was no time for a rebuttal. Stepping into the great hall, benches scraped across the floorboards. Everyone stood, clapping and singing the pibroch of the Campbells.

Duncan puffed out his chest and tightened his grip on Meg’s arm while they strode through the center aisle. When they reached the dais, he held up his palms and requested silence. “Friends, family, Campbells, I am happy to say I am back with you once again. I suffered greatly at the hands of the king. Lady Meg assisted in my escape and brought with her a salve that has worked wonders to bring me from the very edge of death. Though I stood wrongfully accused, I fear this ordeal has not yet come to pass. On the morrow, we must prepare for battle.” He scanned the hall, all faces gaping at him expectantly. “But tonight we celebrate!”

The hall erupted in a raucous applause. Duncan resumed his grasp on Meg’s elbow and led her to the seat beside his.

Once situated, Meg looked to her right. Lady Margaret nodded politely. “’Tis quite a stir you’ve caused around the keep.”

Meg clapped her hand to her cheek. “Gracious, I was afraid to come down.” She bit her bottom lip. “But I worked so hard to care for Duncan’s wounds.”

Lady Margaret raised her eyebrows knowingly, as if she had a peephole through to Duncan’s chamber. It was a look that said,
I am well aware of what you’ve been up to, so do not bother trying to pull the wool over my eyes.

“Ale?” Duncan asked.

Meg rapidly nodded. “Please.”