Song of the Highlands: The Cambels (The Medieval Highlanders) (58 page)

Gwynlyan shut her eyes tight again, but with
her blood so fired for him now, ‘twas beyond her to protest his
purpose. For she wanted what he offered, wanted it with a need that
clawed at her insides.

‘Twas not long before the feel of his
bristled cheek abraded the tender skin of her inner thigh, before
his fingers widened her further still, before his silken tongue
began that torrid, carnal dance upon her sensitive flesh she’d
known was his intent. He found the spot unerringly and her head
went back with a guttural growl of intense pleasure. Her frame
stiffened, her womb convulsed, and multiple starbursts, one after
the other, erupted behind her eyelids.

The stars were still falling down all about
her, leaving a silver-light glow within and without her in their
wake, when he came up o’er her again and slid to the hilt into her
still throbbing, still contracting sex. He rotated his hips at the
same time he began to move inside her and it made her nerve endings
tingle, made her canal grip him tight.

He thrust his hands through her hair, and
plowed his tongue into her mouth as he took her with a force of
need she’d not expected, yet made her burn for him even more.

“Yes,” she ground out, breaking the kiss to
arch into him, “like that.”

But instead, he slowed the pace. She could
feel his gaze on her, but still she could not find the courage to
open her eyes. “Only if you look at me, love.”

She whimpered. Shook her head. “Nay. I
cannot.”

He stopped altogether, making his earlier
promise a lie, and she cried out, “Nay, please!” bucking beneath
him.

But he only brushed the hair away from her
forehead and placed a soft kiss there. She felt the touch of his
own brow upon hers as he said, “I love you, do you love me?”

“Aye, I love you so very much, Morgunn.” At
least that she could give him freely and without fear. “I need you.
Please.”

“Aye, in time.” His lips brushed hers, his
rough hands cupped her face. “What is more,” he continued, “I’ve
given you my trust again. ‘Twas, I confess, seeing and knowing what
you did to save your honor, save the purity of our love, that made
me able to do so as quickly as I did. Otherwise—and mayhap you will
not believe me on this, but ‘tis a truth that I know from the very
center of my soul—it may have taken a small bit more time, a day,
mayhap two, mayhap even a sennight, but soon after I would have
done the same, whether you’d fought your captor’s wishes or nay.
For you were just that, his captive, and I know you had no choice,
and I know if you had not, ‘tis possible he might have killed you
for the pleasure and the spite of it. And I cannot bear to think of
a life without you in it, Gwynlyan. I cannot. For you are all that
makes my life bearable, all that makes it whole. I cannot live
without you. This. This I know for certain.”

Her heart thrummed in her chest with the
riot of love she felt for him, with the joy and excitement of new
beginnings. She gave him a smile and a nod.

“And you? Do you trust me, my love?”

Trust.
How could he ask her that?
After she’d bared her deepest shame to him, handed herself, her
heart, her soul o’er to him? A fist of fiery anger settled in her
middle. She did open her eyes then and pushed him off her. Flinging
herself up into a sitting position, she covered herself without
thinking, and said, “This has naught to do with trust, Morgunn. For
if ‘twas a matter of trust, then I’d say we are near to even, for I
wonder where you learned these new things you’ve tried with me just
now? Did the woman who nursed you teach you such?”

* * *

Morgunn’s mind balked. He settled himself in
bed much as his wife, tho’ with much less fire in his movements
than she’d expressed, and much more outward calm, resting his back
to the headboard while he thought how best to answer. Finally, he
said, “ ‘Twas not with the nurse that I gained that knowledge, for
I was much too weak, and still learning to reason and think well
again while I was under her care.” He heaved a sigh and combed
fingers through the short hairs on the side of his head. “But, aye,
later. When I knew not for certain, but only hoped, that you’d
somehow survived, I did succumb to my body’s urges. I did lay with
whores. But when I discovered you still lived, I ne’er again broke
our covenant.”

“So, you lay with whores to satisfy your
urges, much as the men did with me?” There was venom laced in her
tone.

He cringed inside. “ ‘Tis not the same, and
you know it. The women were more than willing. I’ve ne’er forced
myself on a woman. Never. And I ne’er will, either. I know. I
know
you know this.”

She gave him a grudging nod. It served to
both answer him and prompt him to continue.

“Gwynlyan,” he growled in frustration. “Do
you truly need to know more than that?”

She sat forward, clearly in a huff, and said
on an almost yell, “Aye! Aye, I find that I do,” and beat her fist
into the portion of mattress between them.

He growled on the exhale of yet another
heavy sigh, but told her, “There were a few whores I had who’d
learned their trade in the holy land, and had brought those skills
with them. One—I forget her name now, but she was gentler in nature
than the others—managed, with a bit more
uisge beatha
than I
should have drunk, to pry some of the story of my heartache from
me, but only just a bit, a small fraction, for even in my cups I
knew ‘twas dangerous to reveal too much. I said only that I’d lost
you and was looking for you. She misunderstood. Thought you’d fled
our marriage. Said she knew just the trick to keep you in my bed,
and crave no other’s. She was the one that taught it to me. I
confess, I practiced it each time I took another whore clean
enough, for I wanted, if e’er I was fortunate enough to find you
living, to have you in my arms again, to give that gift to you. To
bring you to rapture with only the touch of my tongue.”

“It worked well, all this practice,” she
said into the yawning silence that followed. Blessedly, he heard a
thread of humor running through her words.

He brought his gaze to hers and found mirth
dancing in her lovely hazel eyes as well. A flood of relief crashed
o’er him and he reached out, drawing her into his embrace. After
settling a kiss on her brow, he murmured, “So, if ‘tis not a matter
of trust, then why can you not look at me while I enjoy you?”

* * *

Gwynlyan tensed. She must answer him
honestly, for he’d been so candid with her, she dared be naught
less with him.
Because I am too hideous to look upon.
The
words formed, then clogged in her throat, created a small whimper
instead.

“Gwynlyan?” he prompted on a pained whisper.
“Tell me, I beg you.”

She tore out of his embrace and rolled to
her side away from him, not able to face him when she said low, “I
hate what I look like now. I hate that my body is no longer lovely,
as once it was. I hate looking upon it, so I close my eyes against
its ugliness, not.... Not against you. Ne’er against you. For you
are handsome, and strong, and oh so appealing to me. You could have
any woman you wanted. Why you still chose me, I cannot fathom. For,
I know ‘twas my looks, the beauty of my frame, that drew you to me
all those years ago.”

“Gwynlyan,” she heard him say, and there was
a chastening tone in his voice when he said it. “Turn around and
look at me.” Not waiting for her to comply, he dropped his hand on
her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. She settled her gaze on
his darkly handsome countenance and waited for what e’er lie he’d
tell her now.

“We were bairns. Or just past it. Of course,
I was drawn to your beauty, as many, many others were as well. And
you, my love, were just as drawn to mine. You will at least admit
that, will you not?”

She didn’t know where he was going with
this, but she willingly admitted with a brief nod to her own
initial reaction to him.

“And that, of course, is why you still crave
me in your bed, love me, want to make a life with me? Because of my
aspect?”

“Nay, ‘tis because you are the best man I’ve
e’er known. ‘Tis because, when I am with you, I am happy. I am
home.”

He grinned. “Good. Because, if the other
were true, I’d begin to worry how you will feel when I am another
twenty years older, grey-haired, and not so fit.”

She grinned then, too and lifted her hand to
brush a lock of hair off his forehead. “Oh, I’d wager I’ll be
wanting you to pleasure me as much then as now.”

He dropped a kiss on her nose, startled her
by ripping the sheet off her body, and said, “Exactly how I feel
about you.”

“Morg—!”

“Look at yourself. Right now. Look.”

Gwynlyan shook her head and grabbed for the
covering but it was out of reach. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Nay.
I can’t. Don’t make me do this, I beg you.”

He brushed his lips o’er her lids and
murmured low, “Let’s save our begging for later, when you’re riding
me like a warrior princess upon her stallion.”

That image alone made her want to shrivel
inside. “Nay, Morgunn. I cannot.”

“Do it, or I’ll tickle you until you pee,”
he said, and then his evil fingers began to do just that.

She laughed out loud and tried to twist from
his hold, screaming out, “Nay! Stop! You—
ha! ha!
—know my
weakness—
aaaii!
—and used it against me!”

“Do you give in?”

“Aye, aye!
Ha! Ha!
Just stop!”

“Open your eyes first.”

“You’re evil.
Aack!
”

He chuckled. “Aye. I know.”

“All right.
Eep!
”

“Do it.”

She opened her eyes and found his own
directly above her. His mad hands went still and for a suspended
moment, the only sound in the chamber was the blowing of both their
breaths. Her mirthful smile turned gentle and she lifted her hand
to his cheek. “I truly do hate you at this moment. I hope the next
time you pee it burns.”

He grinned. “I love it when you talk mean.
Do it again.”

“Nay. I’m out of the mood.”

He chuckled and rolled a bit to the side.
“Okay, coward, then ‘tis time to take a long look at yourself and
see yourself with truth. Look now.”

It took every ounce of courage within her,
but for him, she did this thing that made her want to retch. When
her eyes found the scars, immediately the urge to shut them tight
again near o’erwhelmed her, but she fought it hard, and won against
it. Forced herself to gaze unwaveringly at the proof of her
ugliness.

“These scars,” Morgunn said into the
silence, running his fingers o’er them, “are truly not as horrid as
you think. And believe me when I say this, they have not taken from
the lushness of those gorgeous full breasts, nor the tempting curve
of your waist, nor the beautiful bend of your hip, nor the enticing
handful of your rounded buttock, nor the strong, straight line of
your limbs. In short, even if I were to see you for the first time,
have met you only a short time past, still I would want to mate
with you. Often, and with avid enjoyment.”

For a long moment—a very long moment—she
just stared at them. Trying hard to see them in the same way that
Morgunn did. Finally, something began to change within her. Some
shift in her perspective took place. It seemed to have to do
with—she knew not what, exactly—something, she thought, with simply
looking at them, getting to know them, getting used to them as
something that was part of her now, and all right to be there. Some
proof, as Morgunn said, of the battle she’d fought and won. It
settled and calmed her. It made her able to let go of that young
woman she’d been, and embrace the stronger, mayhap even better,
woman she was now.

Finally she looked up into his eyes again
and said, “So, you want to be ridden do you?”

He grinned and gave a brief nod.

“All right, stallion, take me for a ride,”
she said, shoving him to his back and settling atop him.

His manhood sprung up between them like a
jack-in-the-box, and ‘twas only then that she remembered he’d ne’er
found completion yet this night. And that, she thought, was a very
bad thing for a new bride to do to her new husband. She leaned
forward, grasping his phallus in her hand, said to him, “Get ready
for the ride of your life,” then took him full into her on a slow
glide.

As she began the ancient rhythm, he caressed
her breasts, tweaked the peaks of them with his fingers, moved his
own hips beneath hers, groaned her name o’er and o’er. ‘Twas not
long before her own cries of pleasure mingled with his. She found
the exact rhythm, the exact motion that brought on a wave of such
intense pleasure, she could do naught but continue, work her hips
harder in a bid to reach that pinnacle that was just there, but
still out of reach.

As she did moved with more force, he
answered in kind, gripping her hips and pushing her down even
further as he rose up to meet her, until the head of his shaft
pounded the mouth of her womb. All at once, he arched beneath her,
pressed his head into the pillow, and yelled, “Aye, like that. Fuck
me just like that.” And she did. She did until he went rigid
beneath her and pumped his seed high within her. All at once, she
was there as well, giving out a ragged cry when her inner muscles
convulsed around him, when her world exploded into waves of
rapture.

A long time later, the two of them lay
twined together, naked, and though ‘twas a cold night, uncovered on
their marriage bed. She felt Morgunn’s breath as it fluttered a
stray lock of her hair o’er her cheek and snuggled even tighter
into his side.

“That, my love, was even better than we’d
had before—and before was more than marvelous,” he said into the
silence. “Aye, I can definitely avow that our future may just be
magnificent. Do you agree?”