Chieftain's Rebel Page 11

  “Nae, it’s thrills I feel shooting through me. Wonderful. It may seem an awful comparison but its Axel’s hunger that makes him seek out my breast, with you it’s naught but pleasure.”

  A hoarse bark of laughter burst frae his lips, surprised by her honesty. “Ye can be certain it’s not a mother I’m looking for.” He stretched his neck, his mouth poised o’er her other breast and sucked there in case it was feeling left out, but it was definitely not Kathryn he thought of while he ran the tip of his tongue about the circle of bonnie pink guarding her nipple, happy to feel her skin quiver. This time he spoke past a wee sly smile hoping she would appreciate the jest. “I’ve found the lands of milk and honey, supped of one and I’m about to taste the other.”

  He dropped a kiss betwixt her ample breasts, placing another then another on her skin until he reached her navel, pausing a moment to draw a hot wet circle round its indent that made Ainsel’s back bow, bringing her hips closer. “Are ye getting impatient, my wee lamb? Dinnae worry I’ll get there soon but ye cannae blame a man for sampling other flavours on the way.”

  The hair secreting her entrance was bright gold, shining even in the shade of the trees as he parted it to look upon the source of the honey he sought. On his knees, he stroked her entrance with but one finger, trying to control his impatience, to be gentle yet still make her squirm with need for him. And squirm she did as he put that finger in his mouth and sucked then said, “I’ve found the honey.”

  After he had lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders he leant in and sniffed. There was a familiarity to her scent, one he couldnae place, one he forgot all about the moment he tasted her and discovered how much she enjoyed his endeavours.

  Aye it was grand to hear her moans, which he took as encouragement and worked his tongue with a will until her moans segued into screams and he knew his work there was done. Smiling with knowing he’d brought her pleasure, Rory lowered her legs to his hips and thrust into the empty space left by his tongue and froze. Was there any better sensation than a woman caressing his eager prick with her hot wet core? Again he was struck by the notion of familiarity. That he had been there afore. Nae, he could remember only one other whau had felt so grand, but it hadnae been Ainsel. Mayhap it was something to do with the lasses of Caithness, yet how could that be when Calder’s lassie didnae attract him at in the slightest and he had wanted Ainsel frae the moment he saw her outside her grandfather’s Longhouse, an impulse that hadnae dulled in the slightest that day by the sight of the bairn she carried in her arms.

  Aye, he had wanted her then and now he had her. Why was he dawdling? He thrust again, a feeling so intense it would take all his control not to pound into and find all the wonders of the world he was certain awaited him with Ainsel under him. Nae sense of havering o’er the decision, for his heart knew she was the only one.

  Ainsel’s ears still clamoured with her own wild release as Rory thrust inside her, his tongue now a pale imitation of the real thing—unmatchable. She had forgotten how his thickness could fill her, make her fight for breath, air. Her lungs quaking inside her chest showed her what a pitiful sham her marriage had been.

  Slowly Rory withdrew his cock then filled her again, over and over, as if he were in nae rush, simply a man determined to draw the most pleasure out of their joining. A different experience frae the last time they came together. Rory felt the same, yet more of everything she’d experienced the last time.

  She had discovered a man whau made love when all she had known afore him was an animal ready to fuck aught that walked on two legs.

  Her eyes rolled back in her head as he filled her once more, made her groan. A strange moment to reach the conclusion that her fortunes had changed for the better frae the moment she wrapped her arms around Rory last solstice. On the back of that thought, she slipped her hands up o’er his shoulders and fought her way into his hair, at the same time tightening the legs he had earlier arranged about his narrow hips. Not satisfied, she dug her heels into his buttocks, lifting her hips in what she hoped was an explicit act of encouragement. She loved the springy feel of his thick hair sliding through her fingers as she discovered the shape of his scalp, and as a final piece of encouragement, Ainsel cupped his strong jaws in both hands, pressing her open mouth to his like a baby bird seeking sustenance.

  Heart pounding in her throat, she moaned as Rory gripped her hips, tilting them, bringing their fit even closer without missing a beat, keeping the same driving rhythm without building higher into the speed she needed to reach that place to which he had taken her afore. A shower of tiny sparks floated behind her eyes—anticipation combined with frustration—feelings she abated by biting into Rory’s stubbornly shaped bottom lip. Held it clamped betwixt her teeth even as the broad head of his cock rubbed along the sensitive wall of her core, making her tremble through being ill prepared for the intense sensation leaping frae her belly into her throat as the tip scraped across a place inside her she hadnae known existed.

  She began screaming his name, “Ro—” afore he cut off the sound with his hot mouth. The palms she had pressed to his face felt him swallow, felt him take her release inside him without missing a stroke as he kept up the same interminable rhythm matching her sated cries. Her body shuddered against his as she fell back to earth frae the place he had taken her and, just when she felt he might take her back up there again, he dragged his mouth away, his breath harsh in her ears as, with nae more than two huge thrusts, spilled his seed inside her, yelling like the warrior she knew he was. Chest heaving, he rolled to the side, his big hands clamped to her hips as if he would ne’er let her go, even though it was obvious that his intention was to keep his weight off her smaller frame.

  Tenderly holding her face in his hands, Rory rained kisses all o’er her face finishing with her eyes, making her lashes flutter in response. “Ach, bonnie lass, I’m sorry I was too much in thrall to pull back and I spilled my seed in ye. It wasnae deliberate, but I was so caught up in the pleasure of our coupling I didnae withdraw. I promise it willnae happen again,” he murmured against her ear as if such a thing was inevitable.

  He huffed out a sigh that she added to the numerous scents and tastes she had discovered while making love with Rory. Getting mixed up with a Scot was the wrong thing to do when there was a muckle peck of danger about to fall on Caithness.

  A warning thought spun through her head, comparing the last time they had made love and the unintentional bairn he had left inside her. The hastily made excuse she gave was as much for her own peace of mind as for Rory’s, “I wouldnae let it worry ye. I’m told breast feeding makes it difficult to plant a bairn in the womb.”

  As if to sooth, he smoothed the palm of one hand across her skin, beginning at her hip and ending above the small, soft spot behind her knee, which he gave a wee squeeze, presumably ready to start again, thinking they had all night. “Yon auld wives tales are all well and good, but should aught happen ye must send me word, presuming we’ll both still be alive by the time the Irish leave.”

  Chapter 12

  Kathryn, his mother, would say he was contrary, and why not? Rory had often been told he took after her, and then mostly when he annoyed his father. At the moment, he couldnae argue that his parents were wrong. He had spent the whole of the short summer night in Ainsel’s arms, the lass whau had brought him running back to Caithness all but forgotten. So what did that say about him?

  He hadnae found hide nor hair of the lass—nor smelled the one whau had haunted his mind and dreams for a year. Now that haunting figure he had met in the dark had become a ghost in truth, her memory receding farther and farther. And he wondered what that said about him as a man, a future Chieftain of the Comlyn clan—a fact he had continuously pushed aside, not wanting to delve too deep into his father’s reasons for being so hard on him. He had come to the conclusion that Gavyn intended to introduce him to a suitable lassie, one with bloodlines that matched his own, not an unknown lover. Already she had begun to dwindle away, fade into
the night where he had found her, like a figment of his imagination.

  Apart frae realising he had been chasing a dream—he had travelled to the settlement against his father’s wishes. Led there by his prick—aye he could admit the truth to himself—but that wasnae why he was staying. Not that sex had nae place in his decision to stay. He had discovered Ainsel was a lass worth fighting for—fighting alongside.

  One might rightly say that his father’s reputation had got Rory into a dangerous situation, one that might well cost him his life. Gavyn Farquhar had certainly trained Calder and him to kill swiftly and efficiently. However being part of a strong alliance of clans—both family and friends of fierce repute—had reduced Rory’s opportunities to take part in big battles. Even his cousin Rob McArthur had seen more of war than he had, being at Alnwick when Malcolm Canmore and his son, Edward were killed by the Normans. Since Alexander became King a tentative truce had been signed. The few bloody skirmishes with cateran Rory had been in couldnae be said to count—a fact suddenly brought home to him when Olaf asked for his help.

  Rory huffed down his nose the way his stallion did waiting for a touch of Rory’s knee to guide his next move, to steer him in the right direction, another one of the standards his father expected of him, the heir, the eldest son.

  In his arrogance, Rory had believed it wouldnae be o’er hard to come up with the needed plan. That was until it occurred to him that if the task had been that simple either Olaf or Finn would have already come up with a solution. Instead, he now understood that they had learned through years of living on the edge of the Ness that there was little in the natural landscape that offered real protection—thus the fleet at anchor in the Ness. When the first fierce Norse settlers had landed their dragon-boats here, what they had seen was a guid space to build shelters, a place so rich in grazing for animals and fertile land they could plant with crops that the stone circle hadnae hindered them. It had merely told them this had once been a place where the folk living here had worshipped gods. It didnae matter that they werenae the gods of the Norsemen; they were ancient and aeons ago the deities the stone circle had been built to worship could have been one and the same as those residing in Walhalla.

  Whatever the reasons, being here had brought it through to him that though his roots might not run as deep in Caithness as they did at Dun Bhuird, they more than skimmed the surface of this northern land. For that reason, when he entered the Longhouse he walked with his shoulders pulled back and his chest expanded.

  He shouldnae have been surprised to see his cousin Ghillie with Olaf and Finn or to notice that his raven perched on his cousin’s shoulder. He wasnae displeased that at his approach the bird flapped its wings and lifted off toward the ceiling, becoming but another darkened space amid the many under the sloping roof. Rory tilted his chin and accompanied it with the crook of an eyebrow and a warning, “If that bird shites on me I willnae be happy, cousin.”

  Ghillie’s teeth were bright white in a hall made grey with shadows. “They say it brings the recipient guid fortune and frae what’s being said I gather that might be welcome.”

  Finn laughed at Ghillie’s impudence but might not be laughing for long and Rory told him, “Yer full of auld wives’ tales, Ghillie. Simply repeating it doesnae make it so. Chances are they could be wrong.” Rory looked at Olaf considering the Jarl might dig in his heels. “However, that not why I’m here.”

  He looked at Ainsel’s grandfather, trying to forget where the auld Jarl’s request of the previous day had led, certain that if he lived past the visit frae the Irish his life will have been turned upside down. He had fretted o’er it since dawn. He wasnae impulsive like Calder. Decisions required a proper amount of consideration, especially when the outcome could change everything, not only for himself—for his clan. “I have a plan, uncle, and I’ll tell ye for naught that I’d hoped to present ye with better, but needs must when the de’il drives. That said, the plan I’ve come up with is entirely dependent on you, Olaf.”

  As with last year, Ainsel made a choice not tell anyone what had happened betwixt her and Rory the previous day. For the life of her she couldnae see that aught would e’er come of it—unless he had gotten her with child again. Apart frae that it wasnae a decision she could make lightly.

  The truth was that he was the man she had dreamed of but ne’er expected to see again, even in the days afore Nils sailed away leaving her big with a child about to be born. His excuse had been he had to see his father and take him the guid news, but Ainsel wasnae a fool and had suspected he wouldnae return since, when he first landed in Caithness frae Orkney, he had said all of his family were dead. Loki help her, Nils had been as tricky as that god, and she had simply been happy to see the back of him and his cheating and lies.

  And what had he done? Tipped them into a war not of their own making.

  Hurrying into the kitchen, she quickly surveyed the roomy space, seeking the temporary wet-nurse, Werna with whom she had left Axel. Werna had recently lost a bairn of her own and, blaming his wife rather than his treatment of her, her husband had thrown her out to exist on the mercy of the settlement. Every time necessity forced Ainsel to use the services of a wet-nurse she had chosen Werna, thinking that but for the gods whau looked after the foolish, she could be in the same place as Werna.

  It took but a moment to realise Axel was sucking as if it might be his last feed, his mouth and nose hard against the wet-nurse’s breast. “Werna,” she called out, hurrying to reach her son, dodging around cooks sweating frae the heat of flames and cleaners scrubbing the boards with sand. At the sound of her voice Axel stopped drinking, head turning in her direction. His eyes lit up and he gave her a gummy smile, milk spilling o’er his lips and down his chin.

  Her heart leapt. It was love she saw in his eyes, and though she had seen the same expression on Rory’s face a few hours ago, she knew not to pretend it was aught but lust.

  “Has he been guid for ye, Werna?”

  “A wee lamb as always. I’m happy to look after him any time, Ainsel.” She glanced down at Axel whose arms were waving and feet kicking. “It’s always a pleasure.”

  Bending to lift Axel, she cradled him in her arms as he made indecipherable noises she knew meant he was happy she had come back for him, and therein lay her problem. She loved Axel with all that was in her, heart and soul, yet she would have to abandon him again.

  Guilt stabbed at her again.

  Guilt for the way she had fallen for Nils’s black-hearted lies, had believed his flattery enough to marry him o’er quickly for his true colours to show, and too late had seen the light of day. All of which meant she had see nae way to assuage her conscience other than to fight against the Irish alongside the settlement’s warriors—and leave Axel behind.

  “There is a favour I must ask ye, Werna. Ye know that war is sitting out there on our horizon, and that the settlement could be invaded. I’m sure yer thinking that there is naught ye can do to help, but that’s not true. Ye can help me. If ye take care of Axel, I can become a shield-maiden again, be ready to stand face to face with yon Irish scoundrels whau would do us harm, and I really need to help protect us. I’m sure ye know why.” Werna merely nodded but the glint in her eyes said she was eager. As a lass whaus man had tossed her aside, she not only needed what she could earn frae wet-nursing to keep frae starving, and if anyone could understand how Ainsel felt it was Werna. “Ye know how much my grandfather loves Axel. If aught happens to me, he will make certain he rewards ye for all yer help in caring for the bairn.”

  With her free hand Ainsel reached down, smoothing a long strand of flaxen hair behind the lass’s ear. She squeezed Werna’s shoulder while the lass stared down at her now empty hands. “I’ll do whatever I can, whatever ye tell me,” she mumbled and glanced up, biting her lip, her pale golden-eyed gaze holding Ainsel’s then said, “I dinnae want to die.”

  Ainsel couldnae help smiling, kept it sympathetic, aware that though Werna was at most, only three years you
nger than herself, there was a hundred years difference betwixt them in nous. “I’m determined to join the fight, and I need to be sure Axel is well cared for. Which means that yer care of Axel will allow me to fight. That can be yer contribution to the fight when it arrives. Here is what I want ye to do.”

  Accomplishing the most important task she had set herself made Ainsel’s heart lift as she walked frae the kitchens into the Great Hall. Her eyes immediately focussed on her grandfather’s carved chair. That alone pronounced him Jarl, head of the settlement of Caithness, though it actually wasnae needed. She had always thought that apart from his great age, Olaf’s upright bearing was enough to proclaim his stature.

  Ainsel’s knees felt weak the closer she got to Rory. He and her brother were part of the group surrounding her grandfather. Ghillie, the lad her grandfather had said was a cousin, knelt near Olaf’s feet. He was a strange one; his eyes looked straight through her, as if he saw everything in her heart, guid and evil. Her whole body trembled and, as if he sensed her dismay, Axel whimpered. She smoothed the bairn’s soft cheek, holding him tight while humming under her breath. It wouldnae do for Axel to cry and draw Rory’s attention to her, yet she wanted to hear what was going on.

  Her face coloured at the thought of standing near him with all her memories of the night afore circling her brain. How could she do it without everyone guessing why she couldnae control her blushes? She had just made up her mind to take Axel back to the broch in the hope that he would sleep. In fact she had one foot o’er the threshold when Gilda came flying through it.