Prisoner of Desire (2 page)

‘Isobel, Isobel!’ He nodded smugly as he finally pulled his lips away from hers, still holding her close. ‘There is no need to feel ashamed; you are to be my wife, and it is only right and good that you should desire me as much as I want you, lass.’

‘I don’t desire you!’ she denied instantly, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

‘Liar!’ Alasdair grinned widely, pleased to see that her spirit was still intact. ‘Isobel, you may hate me if you wish, but I assure you that your body will come to love me and my cock,’ he finished arrogantly to a burst of bawdy laughter from the assembled men.

Isobel shook her head obstinately, the renewed sobbing of the women in the hall doing nothing to calm her. ‘You are a bastard, Alasdair Donachie!’

‘Entirely so. Douglas?’

‘Aye, Alasdair?’ Douglas said instantly, coming towards them and casting a lustful glance towards Isobel that did not escape Alasdair’s attention.

Fighting away an irritable twitch of his mouth, his arms tightening further around Isobel, Alasdair nodded towards the staircase that he knew led up to the solar. ‘Take my wench up to the solar for me and have her prepare herself to receive her new lord.’

Unable to stifle a gasp, for Isobel understood all too well the meaning of Alasdair’s words, only the warning he had issued to her prevented her from fighting back as he pushed her towards Douglas, who instantly seized hold of her arms to lead her upstairs. However, Alasdair’s lips drew back into a cruel smile as he watched Douglas drag her across the hall before turning back towards the rest of his men. ‘Men, you have a choice,’ he declared as Isobel froze, watching him warily through narrowed eyes. ‘You are welcome to accompany me upstairs as I become better acquainted with my lovely lady, or you may stay here and use these women as you see fit. It is entirely your choice.’

‘
No
!’ Isobel was horror-struck by Alasdair’s words and the terrible fear she saw upon the faces of the defenceless women, some of whom were her family and all of whom she considered her friends, the women she had fought so hard to protect. ‘You...you said that if I came out of the chamber, you wouldn’t let them do that!’

Her fury only delighted Alasdair even further.

‘I lied,’ he said coolly, smirking in satisfaction as Douglas grinned at him and dragged Isobel backwards towards the staircase, paying no heed to the way she was thrashing out against him, for his strength far outstripped her own.

Staring after her until they disappeared around the bend in the spiralling stone steps, Isobel’s screams still echoing around the hall, Alasdair bent down to pick up the vicious dagger that Isobel had rushed at him with, pocketing it as he leaned back against the wall. ‘So,’ he asked loudly, surveying the hall once more with a low chuckle as chaos spread throughout it, ‘are any of you coming to the solar with me to witness Lady Isobel’s punishment, or are you all happily occupied here now?’

Half a dozen or so of the men came towards him, their excitement apparent. ‘It is a bonnie lass you have won yourself there, Sir Alasdair,’ the foremost one said approvingly, and Alasdair’s smile widened again.

‘Indeed it is, my man, indeed it is. But although I heartily approve of her spirit, I fear that my Lady Isobel needs to be taught some respect for her new lord and husband. Her beauty does not excuse her defiance of me, and I believe that it is time that the young lass is taken into hand.’ His eyes glazed over as he allowed himself to imagine exactly how he would take Isobel into hand. Alasdair waited until he was certain that everything was under control in the hall before giving into his pressing urge to return to Isobel’s side.

Marching towards the staircase, he rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the carnal delights that were awaiting him in the form of Isobel. His cock had already grown hard and ready from the first moment he caught sight of the fire burning in her eyes as she emerged from the chamber, but ever since he had drawn her into his arms and forced his kiss upon her, it had been throbbing with a painful insistence that was threatening to break through the last vestiges of his self-control. Yearning desperately for her in a way he could no longer restrain, Alasdair pushed open the heavy oaken door at the top of the staircase and strode into the solar.

It was growing late in the day, and the large solar was bathed in the amber rays of the glorious sunset, but Alasdair had eyes for only one thing. To his surprise and delight, Douglas had taken the liberty of tying each of Isobel’s slender limbs to the four posts of the bed, much to her evident anger, for she was hissing, spitting and writhing against her bonds, clearly unaware of the deeply arousing vision she was providing to the men in the room with her efforts. Her high, full breasts were straining against her clothing, bouncing from side to side as she fought with all the fury and desperation of a caged animal. Alasdair’s arousal spiralled sharply at the sight before him.

‘So, what is the meaning of the bonds, Douglas?’ Alasdair asked as he slowly approached the bed, staring hungrily at Isobel as she glared at him with that bitter, unrestrained fury smouldering in her blue eyes.

‘Our lady seemed rather reluctant, after your proclamation downstairs, to calmly await your arrival.’ Douglas’s face was distorted by a cruel sneer. ‘I thought it safer to ensure she was ready and waiting in your bed, Alasdair, than have her risk your displeasure by disobeying you further.’

‘A sensible precaution, Douglas, for you know all too well what a terrible temper I have.’ Alasdair had to conceal another small smile as his words clearly struck fresh terror into Isobel, for she momentarily stilled her movements and swallowed hard as she briefly met his eyes.

Looming over the bed, Alasdair began to unfasten his clothing, his eyes fixed firmly on Isobel as he pulled his tunic and shirt away and tossed them forgotten to the ground. Before he had tied her up, Douglas had removed Isobel’s outer clothing – a fact that, to Alasdair’s great surprise, resulted in a sudden and sharp burst of jealousy within him.

Fighting it back, he devoted his attention to Isobel once more, for the thin linen shift that was all that she now wore left very little to the imagination. It had ridden up her legs as she struggled against her bonds, for she had resumed her efforts as Alasdair approached her, and the dark circles and pointed nipples of her breasts showed through the fabric as she arched her back off the bed. Her breasts strained against the shift and filled Alasdair with a desperate urge to see them fully uncovered.

Impatiently kicking off his boots, he reached for the waistband of his breeches and braies with fumbling fingers, and as he did so his arm brushed against the knife he had picked up in the hall. A wicked idea occurred to him. He smiled broadly as he extracted it and laid it on top of the sheets as he finished undressing.

Isobel felt tears beginning to sting at her eyes, but the very last thing she wanted was to show Alasdair how afraid she was. Even as he climbed gracefully onto the bed and knelt next to her, entirely bare before her and very clearly ready to take all that he wanted to from her, Isobel refused to meet his stare, instead gazing stubbornly at the ceiling. A panicked gasp, though, escaped her despite her efforts as he raised the knife in one hand and straddled her body, reaching out to hold the gleaming blade against her throat as his other hand wrapped around the shaft of his pulsing cock, moving languidly back and forth.

‘Are you afraid of me, my Isobel?’ Alasdair was aware that the other men in the room were watching in fascination, all of them just as eager for him to reveal Isobel’s body to their eyes as he was.

‘N-no!’ she lied defiantly.

‘You should be, wench. I am a very dangerous man, and you have provoked my anger with both the way you dared to command Glen Carrick to stand against me, and the way that you are still fighting against me now, Isobel, despite the fact that your body so clearly longs for my touch!’ Alasdair shook his head reprovingly and drew the knife sharply downwards.

Isobel closed her eyes tightly in terror, but the expected pain did not come. Instead, she felt nothing but a rush of cold air across her bare skin as Alasdair sliced with the greatest of ease through the linen of her shift, exposing her entirely as he pulled the ruined material away and sat back to fully admire her.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Alasdair instinctively thrust his hips forwards as Isobel resumed her desperate thrashing against the bonds, the sudden exposure making her feel more vulnerable than ever. The dark, lustful hunger she saw in Alasdair’s steely eyes convinced her completely that there could be no possible escape from what he had in store for her.

The sight of Isobel entirely naked and writhing in front of him was undeniably the most erotic sight that Alasdair had ever seen, and in the haze of desire that had clouded his senses he could think of nothing but satisfying his urge to possess her completely. ‘Ah, my lovely lass!’ he murmured possessively, leaning forwards to draw her breasts into his hands with a loud groan of pleasure as her nipples tightened instantly under his fingers, betraying her once more. ‘Are you ready to confess to me now how much you desire me? It is very apparent, you know.’

Her flush spreading to cover her throat and breasts, Isobel shook her head, confused and distressed by the pooling pit of warmth somewhere in the very depths of her stomach, sensations now flooding her body that she had never experienced before. As Alasdair pinched her nipples sharply, twisting them painfully with another impassioned groan, it felt to Isobel as if her very blood was becoming inflamed with the force of the heat now rushing through her. Furious both with herself for reacting to him in such a way and Alasdair for coaxing such a reaction from her with such apparent ease, she shook her head again. His face darkened instantly.

‘Perhaps you have not as much intelligence as I had credited you with, lass,’ he snarled as he sat back up and turning to look towards his men. ‘Douglas, do you think any of the men would dare defy me as much as Lady Isobel is doing this evening?’

‘Certainly not, Alasdair.’ Douglas’s breeches were already unfastened and he had one hand around his swelling cock as he stared unashamedly at Isobel. ‘You know how much they all fear and respect you – if I might be so bold, perhaps it is time that Lady Isobel comes to understand why that is?’

‘A suggestion that I am wholly in agreement with.’ Alasdair reached for the knife again and Isobel whimpered softly, much to her chagrin, but he had no intention of harming her. Instead, he simply cut through her bonds and jumped down from the bed, tearing away the remnants of her shift and pulling her into his arms before she even realised that her limbs had been freed.

Pushing his cock up against her stomach, the warmth of her soft skin against it sending him almost crazy with lust, Alasdair gathered his wits before backing her up against the wall. ‘Now, my lovely,’ he said with a calm he no longer felt, pushing her hair back in order to lower his lips to her throat and kiss the curve of exposed skin passionately before continuing. ‘Are you going to confess to your new master how much you desire him?’

‘Master?! I have no master!’ Isobel railed furiously, twisting and bucking wildly in her attempts to strike out at him, valiantly concealing her fear of him and all that he intended to do to her.

‘But you do have a master now, my pet,’ Alasdair crooned, his voice low and tender, for he was enjoying taming this wild hellcat more than he had ever enjoyed anything before. ‘I am lord and master of Glen Carrick, and of you. And now it is time to teach you to respect and obey your master. Fetch me a stool, men,’ he commanded suddenly, his loins already roaring their appreciation of the glorious idea that had come to him.

She froze again in his arms as one of the men scurried away to fulfil his request, confused as to what he intended but certain that it could not be anything good. His steely eyes had darkened yet further as he stared down at her, pulling her possessively closer into his body. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, his hands slipped down to caress the curve of her buttocks, moulding their hips together with a low growl and delighting in the heat he now felt pressed against his throbbing cock, for it was straining for its satisfaction. ‘Tell me, my Isobel, have you ever been spanked before?’ he asked softly.

‘S-spanked?! Oh no, Alasdair,
no
!’

‘Oh yes, Isobel! You are proving to be a very disobedient little wench, and perhaps a good spanking will begin to teach you that it will be far more pleasurable for you should you begin to obey me.’ Alasdair smiled, twisting Isobel in his arms and exposing her to face the rest of the men, for it was apparent how much they were enjoying the display she was so unwillingly putting on. Covering her breasts with his hands, he pinched sharply at her nipples again as he waited for the stool to be brought to him, rolling them between his fingers and revelling in her soft little moans of distress.

A squat wooden stool was placed in front of them, ideal for what Alasdair wanted. Kissing Isobel’s throat once more before sitting down upon it, for Alasdair feared he was already becoming addicted to the taste of her upon his lips, he straddled the stool and laid her face down across his lap. He ran his hands along the length of her back, smiling slightly as she shuddered underneath his touch, and then rested one large hand on her rounded buttocks. ‘You really are very beautiful, my Isobel,’ he said gently. ‘I meant what I said, my lovely – I will have you regardless of what you do to fight against me, but I would far rather you accepted me. I can give you great pleasure if only you will accept my mastery of you and Glen Carrick.’