The Wolf and the Highlander (Highland Wishes) (27 page)

Riggs’s scent of forest and dusty dog blended with the fresh bite of wind-tossed field grass. His presence above her overwhelmed her in the best possible way.

He pushed her shirt up and over her head. Holding her arms like that, still tangled in the sleeves, he looked her up and down. ’Twas too dark to make out his expression, but she felt his gaze like a brush of lips along her chilled stomach, her breasts, her collarbones, her neck and face, back down to her breasts.

“Mine,” he said, his voice even deeper than usual.

Aye. His.

The need to be one with him was a heavy, undeniable presence. Never before had emptiness felt like substance.

With one arm, he held himself above her. With the other, he shoved down his trews.

Aye!

Urgency made his movements jerky, but when he stripped her trews down her legs, he took great care. Patiently, he unlaced the boot on her right foot
and eased it off, followed by the canvas she’d grown accustomed to, thereby freeing her good leg. Leaving her partially clothed, he pressed her painful leg, dangling trews and all, around his nude hip. The heel of her boot rested on his arse.

Och,
aye. Aye. Now.

He paused.

With a tilt of her hips, she invited him to proceed. She’d never been more ready for a man.

He waited. What for?

“I pledge myself to you, Lady Anya,” he said, and he stretched her in a single, slow glide that made her gasp.

He was large. And it had been so long for her. But her body eased his way. No oils needed for her wolf-man. She welcomed the mild sting and the bone deep pleasure that accompanied it.

When he was completely seated, he held himself still. “Feels so good,” he murmured over her ear.

“Aye. It does.” Even better was the ring of promise in his voice when he’d pledged himself to her. Holding him tight to her, she said, “I pledge myself to you, Riggs. Did I say it right?”

He made a noise between an amused hum and a moan. “Perfect,” he said with a nip to her earlobe. Then he began to move.

Her wolf-man was not a gentle lover. Nor a quiet one. She couldn’t have been more pleased. While he claimed her with his powerful body, he remained mindful of her. With one arm, he cradled her left leg, ensuring her comfort as he saw to her pleasure and his.

She held him possessively as they rocked together. The night air kissed her exposed skin with a shock of cold, but inside, she was molten hot. She was a forge, and her fire burned for one man,
her
man.

Riggs’s breathing sped. He put his open mouth over hers as if for a kiss, but he was too far gone to complete the act. He moaned into her mouth as his stomach rippled against hers, and he found his completion.

She answered with her own moans as the pressure inside her burst, undeniable, quenching. Her fingers became talons in his flesh. Fire licked her body, and the burning was so very good, better than she’d ever known.

He cupped her head in his hand, forcing her nose to his neck. His scent drove her pleasure even higher. When it should have ended, her body continued to burn with delight.

Hundreds of times she had reached that carnal peak with a man. She was one of the lucky ones who could find her completion with almost any partner. It had made her valuable as a whore, and it had made working at the bawdyhouse bearable. But this went beyond all her experience. If ordinary coupling brought forth a pleasurable peak, this, with Riggs, was a blissful plateau that stretched on and on.

It felt impossibly grand. Was it because she’d given her heart? Because Riggs was wolfkind? No matter. She would not wonder at something so beautiful. Rather, she would rejoice in it together with her love, her pledgemate.

Waves of climax turned to gently lapping currents. Her body trembled. Riggs’s chest heaved as though he’d run leagues.

He rubbed his beard over her head, roughly, sweetly. Was it her imagination or was his scent thicker than usual?

Her mind was too addled to find words, but she petted his back and shoulders, feeling his perspiration through his shirt, assuring him he’d pleased her greatly. More greatly than she’d ever imagined a man could.

“By the moon,” he said at last, touching his forehead to hers. “Is it always like that with a woman?”

* * * *

Anya’s mirthful purr rumbled through Riggs’s chest. “I was about to ask if it was always like that with a wolf-man.”

He pulled back to look at her. In the darkness, her skin took on a blue edge, like a sapphire reflecting moonlight. Her heavy-lidded eyes shone like onyx. Her lips curved in a sated smile. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He could hardly believe it. He’d mated a female.

Everything he’d ever heard about how to please a woman had flown out of his head the second he’d seen her breasts. He’d known only the urge to brand himself upon her.
Mine, mate, mine...
The litany pounded through his head as he’d pounded into his female. He should have been slow and gentle, should have made it go on much longer, should have seen to her pleasure before his own.

But she’d found her peak despite his distraction. No mistaking that. His chest swelled with pride at the memory of her cries and her clutching hands.

“What was that at the end?” she asked, her voice soft and alluring. She traced a finger down his clothed arm, causing his body to respond to her even though he’d just had her. “It went on and on. Is that what wolf-men do?”

So it had been unique for her too. “It’s never happened before. But then I’ve never been with a woman before. Maybe we should try it again. See if we can repeat it.” Still seated, he gave an experimental thrust.

“Aye. A grand idea.” She grasped his arse and squeezed, urging him to continue.

He shook his head. This time, he’d do it right. He’d show her what a worthy pledgemate he would be. Ignoring her whimper of protest, he slid himself free and took his time undressing her.

Unclothed she was more striking than the full moon. He sat back on his heels and drank in her appearance. Her shape reminded him of an hourglass, small in the waist, generously curved above and below. Her thighs were pale as cream and soft, so soft. No experience in his life had matched the thrill of those thighs cradling his hips. Best of all were her breasts, smooth as rose petals and large enough to overflow his hands. He placed a reverent kiss in the tantalizing valley between them.

She writhed and said something that began with “
Och.
” He didn’t understand the rest. Her gemstone. It was in the pocket of her trousers, no longer on her person.

“I don’t know what you just said, lady, but I vow to bring you as much pleasure as you can bear tonight.” He set to keeping his word. Speech wasn’t needed for this communing of bodies.

While the rain fell upon their shelter, he explored his pledgemate. He played with her. He loved her with hands and mouth until he had her intoxicating scent and taste memorized.

Mine.

Her fingers curled in his hair, and she guided him up to kiss her.

He went.

After leisurely sipping at each other for long minutes, she pulled his shirt up and over his head and urged him onto his back. A submissive pose. He gave her his trust and did as she wanted, exposing his chest and wounded stomach to her. He allowed her to caress and kiss him there, exploring him as he had her. He watched until the pleasure of her touch made his eyes flutter closed.

They flew open again with a well-placed flick of her tongue on his chest. He found his pledgemate’s gaze glittering with playfulness.

“Do that again,” he warned, “and I won’t be able to lie here passive a moment longer.”

She did it again, the sparkle in her eye telling him she’d understood his meaning even without her stone.

His breath caught in his throat at her boldness, at her sensual teasing. He rolled her beneath him, and he took her again. He took what was his, and she gave. They gave to each other until they were coated with sweat and utterly spent. And like before, the ending went on and on, impossibly, wonderfully.

He fell asleep with deep contentedness filling his heart and with his pledgemate naked in his arms.

Anya. Beloved.

The cooing of pheasants in the grass woke him after a peaceful night. Dawn brightened the horizon with a lavender glow. The rain clouds had rolled away. The sky would be blue and clear today.

He nuzzled his pledgemate not to wake her, only to enjoy her. No longer was he in a rush to get to Chroina. Though it was still the safest place for her, their arrival was bound to be awkward. He’d done nothing wrong in pledging himself to her since she was barren, but that wouldn’t be readily apparent when they entered the city. Their mating scents, however, would be.

It was a problem for later. For now, he drifted back to sleep with his hand splayed over her smooth stomach. Had any man ever known such bliss?

As he reentered the land of dreams, he found himself thanking the goddess he hadn’t acknowledged in decades for the gift she’d given him. He could have sworn he heard the morning wind whisper,
“You’re welcome.”

After an hour on the plain, Riggs brought Anya two
hares, the best two from a well-populated den. It was past midday. They’d dozed most of the morning, mated upon waking, and now they talked by the fire as the scent of cooking meat rolled over them.

Anya lifted a stick of cubed hare from the small blaze and blew on it. She glanced at him, and her lips curved into a secretive smile as she cooled the meat. He knew her secret. It was theirs. Theirs alone.

Mate. Mine.

He still couldn’t believe it. He tucked her against his side, smelling her hair while she ate.

“What’ll happen when we get to Chroina?” she asked.

“I’ll take you to see my uncle first.” Anyone else might think to arrest him when they recognized his mating scent all over her. His uncle would give him a chance to explain how she couldn’t be the one the king had been waiting for. Then Neil could explain it to King Magnus. The king was fair and wise. He’d listen. He’d understand.

He also had to tell Neil his suspicions about the Larnians holding women captive and Ari being a traitor. “The king will want to meet you, I’m sure, but I’ll bet the news about the human women will take precedence.”

“Where will we live?”

“The women in the lottery all live at the
Fiona Blath.
” The five-story house was part of the castle grounds and was more heavily guarded than the castle proper. “But you won’t be in the lottery. Women past their time of breeding are welcome to stay at the common house, but the ones who’ve taken lovers or pledgemates usually live in private homes. Under guard, of course.”

Anya had stopped eating. She had a faraway look in her eyes.

“What is it, lady?”

She looked u
p at him. Her mouth quirked. “You still call me lady,” she observed.

“Mmm. It’s how I think of you.
Lady.
Sometimes
Anya,
but usually
lady.
” Or simply
mine.
He stroked wisps of hair off her cheek. “You went somewhere when I mentioned the ladies’ living arrangements.”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something. Tell me.”

She ate
some more meat. “It’s just, you called the common house
Fiona Blath.
That was my mother’s name. Fiona.”

“Tell me about her.”

“No’ much to tell. She left when I was six. Seona was eight.”

“Seona?”

“My sister.”

“Sisters.” Two females born to the same sire. Incredible. But she’d already told him females weren’t rare among her people. He couldn’t imagine a world with equal numbers of males and females, let alone two females in the same brood.

Anya nibbled some more hare, but unenthusiastically. It took him a minute to realize why. Sisters. Male siblings were common for his people. He had two younger brothers, Garryn who served in the king’s army and Jonoc who was still young enough to be a ladies’ servant at the
Fiona Blath.
But to have a sister was highly uncommon. Most of Marann’s esteemed ladies were the only children born to their parents. Everyone knew who Hilda and Neil were because they were born to the same sire and dame. They were one of three sets of mixed-gender siblings still alive in Marann. And they were close companions. If they were to experience a permanent separation like Anya had with her sister when she’d come here by magic, they’d mourn bitterly. It would be like having a loved one go to Danu’s breast.

“You miss her,” he said.

She nodded, picking at her meat. “I think I’ll pack this so I can have it for dinner.”

He helped her wrap the hare, wishing he could do more to ease her pain. Together they packed up the camp. He stood near her gelding, ready to help her mount up.