The Highlander's Reward (21 page)

A mischievous expression made her eyes crinkle at the corners and her lips turn up in a grin. “Is there an ulterior motive?”

Magnus laughed, she was a clever one. “Nay, my lady wife, I only want to make sure ye know how to use it. I’d hate for ye to run me through without hitting your mark next time ye decide to take me out.”

Her grin only widened. “You’re right about that. I could end up just dismembering you instead of slicing your innards.”

“Not a good outcome.”

“No indeed.”
Very precisely, she laid her cloak on the bed, not a crinkle in sight. Then she grasped her dagger from where she’d left it in a corner leaning against the wall. “I think I should like that.”

He watched her slip it into the loop at her belt, mesmerized by how different, how delicate her movements were compared to his own. He’d never noticed before how neat and particular she was with everything. Thinking back on it, he supposed she’d been that way since the day he first took her up on
his horse. Organization and preciseness were important if she was to lead the clan alongside him.

He nodded toward her in
approval; he had definitely made the right choice in a wife.

“Shall we?” she asked with delight and amusement in her tone.

“Aye,” Magnus agreed, but he truly wanted to figure out a way that he could turn this sword play into a different game—one where they both ended up naked.

She cocked a hip that made him groan under his breath.

“Let us practice in here,” he suggested.

She frowned. “Are you afraid you will be embarrassed in front of your men?”

“Nay.” He walked toward her, unable to resist touching her. He stroked his fingers over her exposed collarbone. “I’m never embarrassed of you. You are more than any man could ask for in a wife.”

Arbella winked saucily, her brows wiggling. “I meant when they saw me best you, my laird.”

“All the better reason to stay in our chamber. Now give me a kiss. ’Tis your payment for the lesson.”

His wife threw herself against him, her arms winding around his neck, her open mouth pressed to his. Magnus enjoyed this new bolder side of her. Her desire was open, without bounds and fully directed at him. She pressed her hips close. The warmth of her pelvis pressed against his enlarging member.

Magnus wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her tighter against him. When he had her in his arms, his world felt somehow complete. He couldn’t imagine not being able to reach for her. He slid his hands over her hips, his wrist bumping into the hilt of her long dagger.

An opportunity he couldn’t pass up.

He gripped the hilt, yanked it from her loop and jumped back. He held the length of the blade toward her. Arbella’s eyes were wide, stricken.

“What are you doing?”

“First lesson. Never let your opponent disarm ye.”

She placed her hands on her hip
s and tapped her foot.

“Not fair, Magnus.”

He shrugged. “Seemed fair to me.”

“You
asked for a kiss, you scoundrel.”

He grinned widely and winked. “’Twas a nice kiss too.”

She huffed and held out her hand. “Give it back. Let us move onto the next lesson—and I won’t be kissing you either.”

Magnus chuckled and handed her t
he dagger.

She gripped it tight in her hands and held it toward him.

“Most of your enemies will possess true swords, which leaves you at a disadvantage because their blades are longer.” He pulled his sword from behind his back and held it out, showing the two very different lengths.

“Well, now, warrior, I hear that it was the power behind the blade and not the length that made all the difference.”

Magnus’ mouth fell slightly open at such a bawdy pun coming from Arbella’s innocent lips.

“Where did ye hear that?”

She smirked. “Glenda of course.”

He tilted his head slightly and studied her. “Do ye know that your comment sounds a lot like ye’re talking about something else?”

She cocked her head in an innocent, curious gesture. “What might that be?” Her gaze roved over his chest, down to his waist and then she boldly stared at the place where his plaid raised a little from his desire.

He swallowed hard, disbelieving. “I think ye know.”

She stepped forward seductively and he lowered his sword. When she was within inches, she smiled and licked her lips, captivating him.

’
Twas only when the cold metal of her blade touched his neck that he realized she’d lifted her weapon.

“Point made,” he said gruffly.

“What point is that husband?” She trailed the flat end of the blade over his shoulder, down his chest before it disappeared.

He didn’t know where she put
it, all he knew was his breathing was growing labored and his cock ached to be buried between her thighs. He wanted to hear her shout out her pleasure again and again. Wanted to sink deep inside her, touch her everywhere, taste her everywhere.

“I want to make love to ye, Arbella.”

Her eyes darkened and he heard the clatter of her dagger as she dropped it to the floor.

“What are you waiting for?”

Chapter
Chapter Twenty-One

Arbella didn’t know what had come over her, but she loved the powerful feeling of being a seductress. She squealed when Magnus lifted her into the air, her legs coming around his hips. She clutched at his shoulders. Met his seeking lips.

She kissed him with abandon, with all the desire pumping through her veins.

He sat her on the edge of the bed, pressing his hardened length against her. She moved her hands from his shoulders to shove at her skirt, at his kilt, wanting nothing more than to feel the heavy weight of his member deep inside her.

“Nay, not yet,” he breathed against her mouth. He dragged his lips down her chin, her neck, to he
r collarbone.

As he kissed her flesh,
pressed her gown up around her hips. She lifted up so he could pull it out from under her bottom. His mouth left her skin for a moment as he pulled the gown the rest of the way off of her body. Next came her shift, hose and slippers, until she was fully nude in front of him.

“L
ie down,” he demanded, his eyes dark with desire, the muscle in his jaw flexing.

She obeyed his command and slowly lay back down, the cold of their blankets a fleeting feeling as her body quickly heated from his perusal.

He trailed his fingers from the dip in her neck, down through the valley between her breasts, over her belly button and then into the curls of her mound. But he didn’t stop there. He dipped his fingers inside her slick channel. She moaned, her hips rising to meet his fingers.

“Och, lass, ye are so beautiful.” He bent down to kiss her breasts as his fingers continued to work inside her. “Ye are so wet. Ye want me.”

Hearing him say those wicked words heightened her desire for him. “Aye, Magnus. I want you desperately.”

“I will make
ye scream…” he said trailing kisses from her breasts to her belly.

Then lower.

She sucked in her breath and leaned up on her elbows, staring at his mouth which hovered over the very center of her thighs.

“What are you about?” she asked, her breath catching.

He spread her folds and breathed hotly on the pleasure nub hidden beneath. “Loving ye.”

She licked her lips, her hips moving on their own towards his mouth.

“And see, ye want me to.”

There was no use arguing. She did want him to. She nodded and spread her thighs. She stayed up on her elbows watching as he once again parted her folds. Only this time, instead of breathing on her delicate flesh, he licked her.

She cried out at the extreme pleasure that wracked her from just that one touch of his tongue on her most sensitive part.

“Oh, Magnus!”

“Aye, lass, tell me it feels good.”

She tried to speak, but now she watched and—oh God—she felt him suckle her flesh between flicks of his tongue. Words were beyond her and the only thing she managed to say between gasps was, “Aye…feels…”

Arbella fell back against the bed no longer able to hold up her own weight on her elbows. He continued to lave her flesh—indeed loving her with his mouth. With each encounter, he opened her mind up to more and more. A world of pleasure she never knew existed. Gripping the sheets, her thighs shook as sensations whipped through her, building into a beautiful crescendo, drugging her with its power. She cried out as wave after delicious wave made her shiver and convulse.

Magnus kissed her inner thigh before standing.
She watched through hazy eyes as he quickly divested himself of his plaid and
leine
shirt, then climbed atop the bed. But he didn’t settle on top of her, instead he lay beside her.

“Come here,” he said.

She sat up, her legs still shaking.

He reached for her. “Straddle my hips.”

Arbella looked at him oddly. How exactly would this work? But she did what he asked, no matter the logistics going through her mind.

She lifted her thigh over his hip, his hardened member touching her slick folds.

“Oh, I see,” she said with a smile. She placed her hands on his chest, massaging the muscled ridges and brushing her fingers over his nipples.

Magnus
grinned wickedly. “And ye shall see more.”

She lifted up as he guided his shaft toward her opening, then she sank down, letting him fill her.

Arbella gasped, her back arching at the new and different sensations. Magnus groaned, his hands splayed over her breasts. He stroked her nipples, plucking them between his fingers. Between her thighs he rocked his pelvis upward.

Unsure what exactly to do, Arbella rocked her hips, grinding against him.

“Ye’re a natural.” His voice was heady, his eyes hooded. “Keep doing that.”

He gripped her hips, rolling her with each of his thrusts.
Arbella kept time with his movements, her arousal heightening once more toward the peak of pleasure.

“Oh, Magnus,” she moaned. She’d never dreamed it could be this way between a man and woman. In fact, she’d never imagined any of the things they did together.

He quickened his pace and she was grateful for his steadying hands upon her hips as she could no longer keep time with his powerful thrusts. Pleasure encompassed her, made her unable to concentrate on anything but the sensations he wielded within her.

“I’m so close,” Magnus said.

“Me…too.”

He caressed her nub of pleasure with gentle but quick strokes of his thumb. She felt his body tighten between her thighs as he plunged upward, faster and harder.
Her body responded instantly, exploding with pleasure. As one, they cried out their pleasure, reaffirming their need to remain together in all things. When their shudders subsided, she collapsed onto his chest, both of them breathing heavily, their hearts thudding against one another.

They lay like
that for some time, just holding each other, gently touching.

A knock at the door roused them both from a contented, half-doze.

Magnus cursed softly and then laughed. “Who dares disturb us?”

“A dead man?” she said with a laugh back.

“Probably Ronan then.”

She rolled off of his arm and watched him rise to answer the door, admiring the muscles of his back, his tapered waist and the firmness of his buttocks. She crawled under the blankets as he neared the door. He opened it a crack and spoke in low tones to whoever was on the other side.

When he turned back around, the pleasure that had been there only moments before was gone.

“We shall have visitors soon.”

“My father?”

He nodded.
“’Tis what they believe.”

“I should dress.”

“Aye.” He came forward, bending over the bed and kissing her on the forehead and then her lips. “No matter what happens when he arrives, know that ye are mine.”

“And you are mine.”

His words were a declaration, not the exact ones she’d longed to hear, but a declaration nonetheless. He threw on his
leine
shirt then picked up his plaid and wrapped it around himself, tossing the long strip over his shoulder and pinning it place. When he finished dressing, he stopped to study her, his gaze roving over her face.

She supposed men were stubborn and he would need more time to say the words. But she could see them in his
eyes, feel them when he touched her. Well, she would let him know now, before all hell broke loose.

“Magnus, I love you.”

She watched as his eyes widened, filled with fear, with love.

But he didn’t say the words
back; instead he nodded and briskly left their chamber.

Arbella
refused to let him take all the warmth with him though. She knew he felt the same way. It would simply take some coaxing to get it out of him. The surprise she had in store was perfect.

She threw back the covers and stood, shivering a bit from the cold against her flesh.

Arbella vowed that by the end of the day, her husband would declare his love for her. And her father would know she was happy and intended to remain that way.

“Close the gates!” Magnus bellowed to his men as he walked into the courtyard. “Why are the gates open?”

Gavin jogged up to his side. “My laird, the people from the village were coming within the protection of our walls. When we spotted the English, we weren’t sure if they would be safe—after what happened near Glasgow.”

Magnus nodded. “Is everyone in then?”

“Aye.”

Guilt flooded him. While he’d been upstairs enjoying the pleasures of his wife’s body, his people had been terrified and rushing for safety. The damned Sassenachs had better not burn one blade of grass.
He had to thrust Arbella from his thoughts and concentrate on the situation at hand. Ronan approached from the gatehouse, a scowl clear on his face.

“Were they fully armed?”
Magnus asked Gavin.

“Aye.”

“Have they harmed anyone or anything that the scout could see?”

“Nay,
” Ronan answered, crossing his arms over his chest. Magnus had an idea of what his brother wanted to say. He wanted to reiterate that he’d seen this coming. Instead, he surprised Magnus by saying, “Ye will not let them take her, will ye?”

He didn’t smile as Ronan’s face was filled with genuine concern. He shook his head.
“Never.”

Ronan nodded and uncrossed his arms. “Will ye ride out to meet them?”

“I will watch from the tower. I know nothing of this man or Stewart—and I trust the English not at all.” Magnus headed for the gatehouse tower so he could watch for the approach of a man he despised and one he wanted approval from. He was worried over what the baron would do and say, but he was also more worried over the reaction of Stewart, Arbella’s scorned betrothed.

Gavin
and Ronan followed behind as he climbed the stairs to the top of the tower. The landscape was clear, the grass still green and the leaves in the forest beyond a mix of red, orange and green.

“When did the scout say we could expect our English visitors?”

Ronan nodded toward the distance. “Any moment now. They were breaking down their camp when he spied them.”

As if in answer to
his own question, a spark of something glinted in the trees beyond. “They come,” Magnus said, sure that what he’d seen was the sun glinting off of metal. “Prepare the wall.”

Ronan
inclined his head and went about ordering the men to stand guard. Magnus turned from the forest and looked up at the keep. He couldn’t see Arbella from here, even if she were looking down at him from one of the slitted windows. He prayed today would end in a way that allowed them to be together.

He had no idea what to expect from the English who lurked in the trees. They could come willing to negotiate and come to terms, or they could storm from the woods in a frenzy of anger
, bent on attacking Dunrobin.

He prayed it was the former. He’d hate to have to order an attack on her father—although he wouldn’t mind roughing up the English noble she was
supposed to marry. The fool worked directly for the English king to keep the Scots under English rule. Magnus had experienced the fury of Wallace and his men, felt the need for freedom burn in his veins as he fought at Stirling. He would not give up easily.