Page 11 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)

T orrance was too shocked to move, his shaft too swollen, his passion for his wife too hot, to think reasonably.

He went to the bed and for a brief moment sanity returned, but then desire took charge, and he dropped down over her.

He settled his shaft to nestle between her legs, poking at her wetness while his hand yanked the neck of her nightdress down, tearing it, to expose her breast, plump, the nipple ripe for tasting.

And he did just that his mouth sucking on the tight bud.

Esme could barely breath, the sensations rushing through her remarkable and a bit frightening. Never had she felt such pleasure with Torrance. Never had he been so gentle yet firm with her and she found it amazing at how much she was enjoying it.

He rolled his tongue across her nipple and the moan it drew from his wife heightened his desire.

He shifted his shaft, so the tip penetrated her entrance while he yanked her nightdress further down to expose her other nipple and feast on it like he had done to the other.

He loved how her nipple grew taut at his taste and grew even tighter when he nipped at it with his teeth.

He got the overwhelming desire to kiss her, join their lips together, let his tongue slip into her mouth and mate.

His hand replaced his mouth on her breast, squeezing it gently as his thumb grazed the nipple repeatedly.

He settled his lips on hers and kissed her with a hungry need that she responded to without delay.

He felt it then, how her need was as great as his, her passion as hot, her desire for him undeniable.

Esme tore her mouth off his. “Please, Torrance. Please. I need you.”

Torrance.

That she begged her husband was like cold water being thrown in his face and he sprang up off her. He stood staring at her, his shaft hard and aching, his desire for her unbearable. He silently cursed himself for foolishly surrendering to what? His need or his desire for her and her alone?

With thoughts of dropping over her once again, he yelled, “Get out of my bed!”

Esme was too shocked to move.

“Are you deaf, woman?” he said, his voice as powerful as his muscles that grew taut.

She sat up, her eyes wide and settling on his protruding shaft. “But you are?—”

“Angry,” he growled like a beast warning his prey, “that my wife refuses to obey my orders. Now—GET OUT OF MY BED!”

Esme wisely jumped out of bed, standing on the side opposite him. “I don’t understand.”

“Either do I. Why am I saddled with an ignorant, disobedient wife?”

Esme stared at him bewildered. “But your shaft is ready. Why do you not want me?”

“GET OUT!” he yelled, pointing to the door. “Get out now!”

Esme rushed to the door so fast she tripped over her own feet and the floor rushed up to meet her.

She never hit it. Her husband’s arm snagged her around the waist and stopped her from crashing to the floor. He spun her around as he brought her to her feet, keeping his arm around her to steady her. She was shocked for a second time when she saw concern mingle with the anger in his green eyes.

“Go now, wife, before I do something I will regret,” he ordered and released her.

Esme turned and with quick, yet cautious steps, fled the room.

Torrance slammed the door shut behind her, then dropped his brow to rest against the door.

His chest heaved and his manhood throbbed.

He would ruin everything if he did not think wisely about this.

It wasn’t only his shaft that throbbed for Esme, it was his heart as well.

He had feelings for her, strong feelings.

What was it his da had told him about women?

You will know when you find the woman who steals your heart, for you will do anything for her, even give your life to save hers.

He felt a punch to his gut and his anger soared thinking of Esme possibly being in danger, her life threatened. She was an innocent in all this and nothing more than chattel to her father who had carelessly given her in marriage to benefit himself.

He needed to do as planned. It was the only way. He only hoped she would agree.

Esme threw herself on her bed when she reached her bedchamber and screamed her frustration into the pillow while her fists pounded the mattress.

She was a fool, ten times a fool—twenty times—a fool for thinking Torrance had changed.

That something had happened to him on the battlefield that brought him home a different man.

He was playing one of his games with her, but why when he needed an heir and his manhood was stiff and finally ready to mate.

Why did he refuse to couple with her? She had gotten so excited to see his shaft swollen.

They could consummate their marriage, and she would have a chance to get with child.

She groaned. Worse was how she responded so eagerly to his touch, his kiss.

She had desired him, and he knew it. That he refused her upset and frightened her since the possible reason that he would not couple with her, get her with child, shivered her cold.

Could he truly be searching for a new wife?

Had he already found a woman? If she got with child, she would stand in his way.

Is that why he had gotten off her so suddenly and sent her away?

But why then did he have her sleep with him each night?

Did he want to make it look like he was doing his duty?

Nothing made sense. Nothing at all. Unless…

She rolled on her back and scrunched her face as a sudden thought hit her. A nonsensical one, or was it? Could it be possible? She shook her head. Her sudden thought was nonsense. There was no one who could disguise himself as Torrance and get away with it.

Ryland.

She sprang up, the name exploding in her head.

Ryland, Chieftain of Clan MacLeish. He and Torrance could pass for brothers they looked so much alike.

There were rumors that they were half-brothers, though no one dared speak it aloud.

But Ryland had suffered serious wounds in the battle he lost to Torrance.

He was home healing, waiting for Torrance to decide his fate.

She wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something funny.

What if it was all a lie? What if Ryland had killed her husband and decided to take his place? But what reason would he have to do that? Besides, he would be placing himself in danger with how many enemies Torrance had made and would be only too glad to see him dead.

It was a foolish thought.

But why did Torrance avoid coupling with her when he had berated her endlessly for failing to get with child. He told her it was her fault his shaft could not grow hard. That she was not attractive enough, obedient enough, that she sparked no desire in him.

Sparks had certainly flamed his desire tonight. His manhood was swollen, ready for matting and no women had been there to entice him. So, what had sparked his passion?

She had met Ryland a few times when he visited Torrance.

It had been odd seeing someone who resembled her husband so much and it was even odder that he was cordial and thoughtful.

She recalled during one of his visits how her shawl had slipped off her shoulders and he snatched it up and handed it to her with a smile that sent a flutter to her heart.

Torrance had quickly admonished her for being so clumsy and sent her to her bedchamber and ordered supper held from her as punishment for embarrassing him.

She later learned that Ryland had had the courage to speak up to him in her defense and it had ignited an argument for which she was further made to suffer. Two days in her bedchamber with nothing more than bread and water. She was lucky Gwen had taken pity on her and snuck food to her.

Her husband had certain traits, likes, and dislikes but she hadn’t paid them mind lately. She needed to pay more attention to him to see if she could spot any differences that may suggest her idea held merit.

His kiss was certainly different. She enjoyed his kisses, to her surprise and dismay. But now, there could be a reasonable explanation for it.

It hadn’t been her husband who kissed her, but Ryland.

She had to be careful. Very careful. If she were wrong, and there was a good chance she was, it could prove disastrous for her. She had to make sure, completely sure about her suspicions and even then, would it be wise of her to confront him? And what of his plans for her?

Fear trickled over her that she might be in even more danger if she was right.

She needed to take it slowly and approach her suspicions with caution. That was what she had to do to find out what was going on. Had Torrance returned home to her or had Ryland taken his place?

A question she intended to find out.

Dull gray clouds hung heavily over the village and the cold air clung to everything it touched, promising more snow the next day.

Esme pulled her hood low and walked with careful steps, keeping to the edges of the path, pausing often to peer at anything that may have looked to cause her interest, or she paused briefly to speak a few idle words to those she passed.

But her gaze never strayed far from the tall figure ahead.

Torrance moved with purpose, cutting through the village like a fine blade, nodding to some, ignoring others. He was a man used to being watched, obeyed, feared. Esme had once feared him too. But now... she wasn’t certain who she followed.

He looked like Torrance, bore himself like Torrance, and yet.

.. questions from last night still haunted her.

Could it be Ryland, Torrance’s half-brother?

The resemblance between them had always been reason for wagging tongues, too much, perhaps, to be coincidence alone.

But if it was true, then why? What had become of Torrance?

And why would Ryland risk taking his place?

She needed answers. Answers that only he could give.