Seducing the Highlander (34 page)

Craig put a finger on her lips, stilling what she had been about to say before placing a soft kiss where his finger had been. “No,” he said, his voice a whisper of rough velvet. “There’s no need to talk. Not now.”

His hands were caressing her entire body, disabling Meriel’s ability to speak. She could only feel. His touch seared her skin and she wanted more. Slowly she slid her fingertips from around his back to his chest and then down until her fingers cradled his warm, hard, soft flesh.

Craig sucked in his breath. Lightly, her hands began again to touch him, then with growing purpose. Incredibly, his manhood thickened even more. Helplessly, he thrust himself against her palm, attempting to increase the delicious pressure. His one thought was that he must have more.

Grasping both her hands in his, he lifted them above her head and said, “I need you. I’ve never needed you as much as I do now.”

Tracing the contours of her neck with his kisses, he stroked Meriel from breast to thigh, reveling in the incredible softness of her skin. He reacquainted himself with every inch of her body, refusing to let her bring down her hands and touch him in return.

“Look at me,” he instructed, and with his fingers stroked her breasts, teasing her nipples.

Meriel jerked. Her body ached for his touch. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts upward, begging him to take her into his mouth. Craig obliged. He sucked on her nipple, nibbled, bit, and felt her quiver against his mouth. Relishing the sounds of pleasure and pain he elicited from her, his mouth continued to devour her, his tongue lapping the rough structure of one peak and then the other.

Craig was so hard he hurt, but he wanted to take his time and do some of the things he had fantasized about while he was away. He edged his knee upward and lodged it between her thighs. Then he pressed his hips closer, letting her feel the long, hard length of his erection.

“Please,” Meriel groaned, as he splayed his fingers over her belly. She knew what was to come.

Craig responded by lightly moving his hand down over her soft stomach straight to the heart of her fire. He cupped her gently and eased one finger into her damp heat. Meriel heard herself cry out and tried to reach for him, but he held her hands firmly above her head. She squeezed her eyes closed. It was blissful agony not to be able to show him how much she was burning for him.

Craig was barely holding on to his control. He could not wait to lose himself in her again, but seeing her writhe and beg for his touch made him desire to do more. He wanted to touch her in ways he knew would pleasure her, and seek out the special little spots where she was extra sensitive. Her pleasure in every way heightened his own.

He eased his finger back out of the snug passage and used her own moisture to lubricate her small, swelling button of desire. He repeated the action slowly and deliberately, easing his finger into her and then teasing the small nubbin of female flesh. He did it again and again until Meriel threw back her head and cried out.

Smiling to himself, Craig started to kiss a path down her breastbone to her navel, tasting her with his warm tongue. Again, he slipped his finger into her, then added another. Her hips bucked, and he knew she was ready. Bending down, he took her in his mouth, his tongue hot and rough and insistent. He feasted on her, plundering the sweet interior she so willingly offered.

Meriel could not control her body. She writhed. She twisted. She shook. She buried her fingers in his hair, raking his scalp with her nails. Her whole being was on fire, delighting in the heat. Craig cupped her hips, lifting her tighter against his mouth. She shuddered again and again as he tasted the heart of her, refusing to let her climax fade despite her cries and weak struggles.

Meriel knew she could not take anymore. If Craig did not enter her soon, she would die. “Make love to me, Craig.
Please
.”

Craig raised himself up and leaned his head to hers. He nuzzled her ear with his nose and lapped its lobe with his tongue. “Whatever brings you pleasure,” he breathed. Then he straddled her, shifting his hips onto hers, pinning them to the bed. Meriel gasped at the touch of his heated body. She had forgotten just how large her husband was, then was lost in sheer pleasure as he started to tease her opening.

Meriel moaned his name and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him to her with an urgency that matched his own. Waiting no longer, Craig lifted her hips and plunged between her thighs with one powerful surge. She was more than ready for him as he buried himself in the warm softness of her. When he was safely inside, he drove deep, seeking release and reassurance and the comfort of knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

They strained together, their breath coming in short gasps. Instinct drove Meriel to meet each thrust, riding him with a wild abandon only he could create in her. A powerful force began building within her, becoming more fervent, more intense with each silken stroke. When Meriel parted her lips to cry out her pleasure, Craig instantly clamped his mouth tightly over hers, swallowing the soft sounds of her passion. A second later he joined her, surrendering to his own erotic release.

A hoarse exclamation of triumph and pleasure escaped Craig’s lips and he sagged against her. He lay there for some time as they both caught their breath.

Eyes closed, Meriel rolled onto her side and stretched, before curling into the curve of his body. A smile pulled on her lips. She felt decadent. Devine. Craig lowered his arm and slipped it around her, settling her head more comfortably on his shoulder. He felt good. Better than good. He felt magnificent. Conquering and all-powerful.

Long minutes passed. Meriel’s fingers stroked Craig’s chest. She loved the feel of his crisp hair, his smooth, hot skin, his wonderful scent.

Craig stroked her arm. “I did miss you,” he said softly. “More than I thought possible. I think most of my anger came from my disappointment at your not being here when I came in.”

Meriel digested the admission and felt somewhat mollified now that she understood what had made him so emotionally explosive. It had not been from her lack of effort—but the lack of her presence. “I will try to be here next time.”

Absentmindedly, Craig moved his hand to her hair, enjoying the sensation of pulling his fingers through its softness. “All week I had visions of you eager for my arrival, cooking me dinner, and my whisking you away from the hearth and back to our bed the moment I came in.”

Meriel giggled at the image. “And I ruined all your plans.” She looked up at him. “Is my cooking dinner really that important to you?”

Craig shrugged his shoulders. “I just think it would be nice,” he said, keeping private his real thoughts about Hamish and the meal she had cooked
him
. Meriel would tease him about being jealous and he would not be able to deny it, as it was the truth. He was jealous, but he was also curious. He saw what Meriel would do for a friend and was keen to see what effort she would put out for him.

Meriel resettled her head in the crook of his shoulder. “What if I try to cook dinner tomorrow night?”

Craig hesitated. “No eating at the castle?”

Meriel smiled. “No castle, no father, no sister . . . just you and me, and whatever I can make for us to eat,” she answered.

Craig growled his pleasure at the idea, rolled over, and proceeded to make slow, sweet love to her again.

 

 

“Meriel?” The hesitancy in Craig’s voice was undisguised. Part of him was annoyed with himself for again being shocked at the state of his home, while the other part kept vacillating between concerned and mystified.

Like yesterday, he had approached their cottage and made enough noise to ensure Meriel realized he had come home. And like before, he opened the door, eager to see both a dinner on the table and her beside it, radiating beauty and joy at his arrival. And once again, he found neither.

However, there were some differences.

His pile of dirty clothes was no longer visible, but he suspected that was because all of his belongings that had been stuffed into the kitchen were now on the floor covering them up. Unfortunately, they also consumed most of the table, three of the four chairs, a good portion of the floor, and from what he could see at the front door, at least one of the two chairs in the back. But what truly caught his eye was the kitchen area. Though empty, it no longer looked unused. It appeared as if a huge fight had taken place inside and Meriel had lost.

“Meriel?” he called out again, and a second later she emerged from the bedroom, proudly carrying a large black cooking pot. She flashed him a large, satisfied smile that reminded him of when one of his younger, inexperienced soldiers won a difficult training match against an elder. But, physically, Meriel did not look the victor.

Her hair remained partially styled, or at least partially braided, but the other part was unruly, with pieces of food embedded in it. If Craig had to guess, he would say that her face had become quite sticky with sweat more than once and that she had used her hand or sleeve or something with flour on it to swipe her brow and slick her hair back. The rest of her appearance was not an improvement, but it did match the state of the cooking area. It looked as if all the things needed to make a meal had exploded in his home. He blew at a feather drifting down in front of him and had a sick feeling that Meriel had also attempted to clean a bird.

Meriel sashayed past him and with a loud
thunk
placed the heavy pot on the dinner table. “Welcome home, husband,” she said in a silky voice, reaching up on her toes to give him a kiss.

Although not really inspired, Craig returned her peck, secretly glad she did not try to initiate something more before leaving to go back into the kitchen area. He swallowed. “Ummm. What were you doing in the bedroom with the cooking pot?” he asked.

“Oh, I needed more to room to cut up the meat and the potatoes, so I decided to do it in there,” Meriel answered as she started to search a pile of items crammed into a large wooden tub.

“On our bed?”

Meriel laughed. “Sometimes you men have the craziest notions,” she answered, standing back up, waving a bowl and a spoon in the air. “Now you can eat! I cannot wait for you to try it!”

Craig inhaled deeply and peered inside the pot. The smell was far from appetizing. He sank down onto the chair again, perplexed. Meriel was obviously very proud and considered what he was about to dine on a considerable accomplishment. He sat down and watched her scoop out a large serving of what he assumed was supposed to be stew. Then she pulled out a chair with several fragments of unused material on it and sat down.

Craig was shocked that Meriel had no problem sitting on items that a couple of weeks ago he could not lay a shield on. He began to search for some bread to quickly put in his mouth lest he say something that might start another fight. “Where’s the bread?”

Meriel’s mouth twisted as her expression became one of guilt and frustration. “There isn’t any,” she admitted. “Or at least none you could eat.”

Craig inhaled deeply again and told himself that he had eaten plenty of meals without bread. Another would not hurt. Purposefully delaying taking a bite of the stew, he looked for something to drink. “Is there any ale?” he asked, hoping his chipper voice did not sound as insincere as it did to his own ears.

Meriel wrinkled her nose and wiped it as if she smelled something unpleasant, and again shook her head. “I did not have time to go get any, but I did get some water. It’s right there,” she said, pointing to a pitcher on his left.

Craig picked it up and saw something floating on the surface. It was a feather. He was not surprised. If anything, he was more amazed that only one had made its way inside. He took his unused spoon and got it out. “Did you pluck a bird in here today?”

Meriel’s face lit up with pure joy as if he had just paid her the greatest of compliments. “I did! Can you believe it? I tried doing most of it outside, but when it started to rain this afternoon, I had to finish the rest in here.”

Meriel scooted his bowl of stew closer to him. “Aren’t you going to try it?”

“I . . . I was waiting for you.”

Meriel shook her head and sat back. “I don’t want any, or at least not right now. My stomach has been unhappy with me most of the day. Besides, I’m so tired after doing everything to get dinner ready for you in time, I’m no longer hungry. But don’t let that stop you.”

Craig knew he could delay no longer, dipped the spoon into the stew, and took a bite. As he feared, he could not even swallow one mouthful and had to spit it back into the bowl.

Meriel immediately reacted. “Why did you do that?” she exclaimed.

Craig shoved the bowl away from him. “How could I not? I don’t even know what that is, but I do know that it isn’t edible. The potatoes haven’t been cooked and”—he paused to sniff—“well, no sane man would eat
anything
that smelled like that!” he said in defense.

Meriel threw her hands up in the air and waved them about. “It’s amazing you can smell the stew at all, given your own body odor! There is a river between the training fields and this cottage. Next time use it.”

“I’m not the one who would give grown men night terrors right now, with food in my hair and blood and feathers all over my clothes. And I
might
have bathed before I came home if I had even one clean leine to put on! I’m guessing that I won’t have any clean clothes to wear tomorrow either!” he yelled back, his anger in full bloom.

Hot, furious tears burned in Meriel’s eyes. “You expect me to cook, clean, wash, and bathe, when you will not even help me at all!”

“I don’t ask you to help me train the men, secure the borders, and protect the castle,” Craig protested, uncaring as to the level of stress he was causing his wife. His patience was exhausted. “I have a lot to do, Meriel. You are the one who is home and has the time. Not me.”