Page 20 of The Highlander’s Hellion Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #1)

20

“ Y e’re great with children,” Duncan grunted, holding tightly to Alison’s hand as he led her away from the raucous village square.

He glanced sideways at his wife and found a soft smile dancing on her lips.

“Rosie is an easy bairn to raise,” she said softly.

Duncan shook his head.

They were walking away from the village square, down one of the well-trodden dirt paths. The farther away they got from the square, the quieter it became.

A few windows of the houses they passed were flickering with light, but most of them were dark. Almost all the village folk were still dancing and rejoicing, allowing him to carve out a private moment with the woman by his side.

The moon shone down upon them from a clear and starry night sky. When he turned to Alison, her face was bathed in the silvery light.

“I wasnae just talkin’ about Rosie,” he said. “But all the bairns. Ye’re good with them and the village folk.”

“Oh,” was all she said.

Such a simple word, but it felt infused with an emotion Duncan could not quite place.

“Ye never did tell me why ye come to town on Tuesdays,” he prompted.

He recalled the fight they had earlier, how she had argued with him the moment he had tried to find out what she was doing there. He braced himself for the same thing to occur, but to his surprise, it did not.

“I come to teach the bairns to read,” Alison explained. “And to write. I’ve been doin’ it for a little over four years now, and ‘tis usually the best part of the week.”

“Aye, I can tell,” Duncan agreed with a nod.

A comfortable silence settled between them, marred only by the sound of their footsteps on the dirt and the music that drifted from the village square. Then a babe started crying.

“Did ye ever want one of yer own?” Duncan asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Alison whirled around to glare at him, her eyebrows knitted together. “Me own what?”

“A bairn,” he answered, indicating the baby cries coming from one of the houses they had just passed. “Or has Rosie been enough to put ye off it forever?”

“What’s wrong, Me Laird? Want to try for an heir so quickly?”

Duncan smirked at his wife. “Careful,” he warned, although this time, it was desire that laced his voice. “Dinnae call me ‘Me Laird’, when ye were moanin’ me name just last night.”

Alison’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and she swatted at his arm. “Enough of that,” she chided, but he did not miss the smile in her eyes.

They completed the loop around the village and arrived back at the square. Rosie had joined a dance circle that the other children had made, spinning until they fell to the ground in a fit of giggles.

The pair stood just outside of it, watching the gaiety. Duncan heard Alison draw in a deep, steadying breath.

“Ye’re a good laird, ye ken,” she said.

He grinned at her in amusement. “Now, wife,” he drawled, his deep voice rumbling between them in the night air. “Keep sayin’ things like that, and I’ll start thinkin’ ye arenae so angry with me, after all.”

He did not give her a chance to answer as he grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her once more toward the dancing. He held her close, loving the way she felt as she moved against him.

For the second time that night, he found himself lost in her relaxed, natural beauty, now that she had dropped some of her guarded demeanor. Her brown hair had come loose from some of its pins and tumbled about her shoulders. Tendrils of it stuck to her face, catching in a sheen of sweat that made her glow.

Alison smiled widely with delight and grinned at him as he twirled her.

Her full skirts rose around her ankles as she spun, the colors of the plaid blending with the movement. It swished and tickled his shins as she stopped, and he pulled her close again.

Duncan was not sure how long they danced, but the crowd around them slowly began to dwindle. The song they had been dancing to ended, and they drew to a stop.

Alison was panting and glowing, her smile brighter than the moon when she looked up at him.

Rosie, drawn by the end of the music, came bounding up to them. “I’ll be goin’ to Sara’s house now,” she announced the moment she was within earshot. “Her maither said ‘tis time to go to bed.”

Alison turned her beaming smile on her daughter and crouched down before her, placing her hands on the girl’s slender shoulders.

“And her maither would be right,” she said, pulling her into a tight hug. “If ye need us, we’ll be at the inn. Alright, love?”

Rosie nodded, returning the hug as tightly as she could. “Will we go home in the mornin’?”

This time, it was Duncan who answered. “Aye, lass. We’ll go home in the mornin’.”

Rosie pulled away from Alison and trotted over to wrap her arms around Duncan’s legs. He started at the gesture, not knowing what else to do but pat the girl’s head as she hugged him goodnight.

“I want to apologize to First Maither in the mornin’,” Rosie added, dropping her arms from his legs and pulling back to look at him. “For nae comin’ to wish her goodnight.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” Duncan assured her.

Rosie just nodded as she turned around. After planting a final kiss on her mother’s cheeks, she ran off.

Alison stood and moved to Duncan’s side as they watched her bound across the square. A small girl with blonde hair was waiting for her, standing beside a tired-looking woman who Duncan assumed was the girl’s mother.

“She’ll be all right with them for the night?” he questioned.

“Aye. Rosie spends the night with them in the village at least once a month,” Alison explained. “She’ll be just fine.”

“Well, far be it for me to get in the way of yer routine. Now, let’s go to that inn.”

He began striding in the direction of their lodgings and heard her quick footsteps as she tried to catch up to him.

They wound their way through the village, the sounds of merriment dying down almost entirely as they arrived at the inn. Duncan held the door open, allowing Alison to go inside before him.

The moment they were inside, warm air rushed up to greet them. He had not noticed how cold it had gotten since the sun had set, but as the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth enveloped him, his skin began to tingle.

He took a key out of his pocket and held it up to her.

“Sheena MacLoren handed it to me earlier,” he explained. “Wanted to make sure we could leave whenever we wanted.”

Alison nodded. “Which room is ours?”

“Biggest one, at the very top.” Duncan smirked at her, waving his hand theatrically for her to lead the way. “After ye.”

Alison rolled her eyes at him but did not comment as they moved further into the building.

Duncan felt the whisky running through his veins, making him more relaxed than he could recall being in quite some time.

They made their way to their room, stumbling a little more than they normally did as they climbed up the stairs. When they finally reached the top landing, Alison held her hand out to him.

“Key,” she demanded.

“Ask nicely,” Duncan growled.

Her honey-brown eyes flashed with defiance. “And if I dinnae?”

He chuckled, the sound low and dark. A thrill ran through him at her defiance. “I may have to punish ye.”

“Mayhap I want to be punished.” Alison’s cheeks flushed red.

Duncan smirked. “Dinnae make me remind ye of what I am like when I mete out punishment.”

He did not place the key in her outstretched hand. Instead, he took a step closer.

The landing was already narrow, and with one small step, their chests were touching.

Alison’s eyes went wide, but she did not move. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with anticipation. Duncan leaned closer, his eyes flicking down to her tongue as it darted out to wet her lips.

He reached past her, placed the key in the lock with deft, capable hands, and turned the doorknob. The door creaked open softly.

Confusion knitted Alison’s brow, and he smirked at her.

“Did ye think it would be that easy to taunt me, wife?”

She blushed again, the red tint spreading from her cheeks to her neck, but she did not back down.

“‘Twas easy enough to bring ye to yer knees last night,” she quipped, turning on her heel and stalking into their rooms. “I figured I might as well try.”

“Well, ye’ll have to try harder than that.”

The sound of her husband locking the door filled the room, and Alison had to work to control her breathing. A crackling fire in the hearth filled the space with a warm, sputtering light that danced with the moonlight filtering through the window.

Someone must have come up here.

She desperately needed to look at something other than her husband. She examined their quarters, noting that they were much simpler than the room they had occupied on their way back to the castle.

In the glowing light of the fire, she could only make out a bed and a vanity that contained a washbasin. But for the purposes of their brief, overnight stay, it was more than enough.

Alison racked her brain for something to say as the mood in the room changed and became charged. Every inch of her body was acutely aware of Duncan’s presence, her skin tingling with eagerness.

She turned around and smiled at him. “I enjoyed dancin’ with ye,” she said finally, her voice seeming too loud in the small space. “Thank ye for askin’ me.”

She could feel his sparkling blue eyes burning into her like a torch as they roved over her frame.

“Ye said ye were surprised I was good at it?” he asked, prompting her to respond with a nod. “What did ye think I’d be good at?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Killin’, mayhap?”

He took a step toward her. Alison’s skin felt like it was on fire as heat rushed through her, making her desperate for his touch.

“Is that all ye think I’m good at? Killin’?”

His words were dripping with implications that were as sweet and intoxicating as spiced whisky.

All she could think about was how he had looked when he had been between her thighs, his eyes gleaming as they peered at her from beneath her skirts. She could feel the phantom touch of his mouth, and she pressed her thighs together at the sensual recollection.

“I’m sure ye’re good at many other things.”

Her voice had become heavy and thick with the rising need churning through her. Duncan took another step toward her, quickly followed by another.

They were less than an inch apart, so close that all either of them had to do was flinch and they would be touching. The tension between them felt balanced on a knife’s edge, and Alison knew that something as slight as a breath would tip them into the madness of their mutual desire.

“Would ye like to find out?”

Duncan did not wait for her to respond and reached forward. His powerful arms wrapped around her waist, encompassing her, and pulled her against his muscular chest.

Their bodies melded together. While he was all hard, rippling muscles, she was all sweet, supple curves. They fit together seamlessly.

When he dipped his head, Alison surged forward. Their mouths crashed together in a flurry of need as their lips began to move in tandem.

They were nothing more than liquid desire encompassed in flesh. His hands roved over her back, pressing into the fabric of her dress until they moved down to cup her bottom. She could feel his eager manhood beneath his kilt as it pressed against her.

Duncan’s tongue darted out, parting her waiting lips, and plunged into her mouth as he raised a hand and gripped the back of her hair. A moan sounded in the back of Alison’s throat, her hands roaming over the hard, defined planes of his body.

I cannae feel him through all of this fabric.

Without breaking their kiss, Alison began pulling at his shirt, her fingers frantically fumbling with the buttons as their kiss deepened.

Duncan paused, his hands moving to help hers as they stripped him of his shirt. Never once did their lips leave one another. Finally, his shirt fell to the floor. Alison slid her hands over his bare skin, and the feel of it nearly made her heart stop.

She had barely begun to appreciate it when Duncan tore his lips from hers. Before she could cry out in protest, he had hooked his arms under her buttocks and lifted her off her feet.

Her mouth dropped open in awe, her breath now coming out in fast, harsh pants. She wrapped her legs around him, pressing their centers together as he began to walk.

In a few short steps, they arrived at the bed. Alison ground her hips against the bulge in his kilt, desperate for friction as an ache began to build in her core.

She cupped his face in her hands, bringing his lips back to hers. Their heated kisses resumed, breaking apart only long enough for Duncan to toss her onto the bed, before descending upon her once more.

His impressive weight covered her, pressing her down into the mattress as he ground his hips against hers. Even through the fabric, the pressure of his thick, rigid member against her pulsing opening felt divine.

Alison gasped, her lips losing their rhythm as she fought to hold back the moan that tore from her throat.

Duncan used this as an opportunity to press kisses along her jawline. His lips were hot as they kissed and nibbled down the column of her now-exposed throat. Alison’s hands, which were still pressed flat against his back, slid up to his arms.

“Impatient, lass,” Duncan murmured.

His lips remained pressed against her throat, and the stubble on his chin tickled her skin as he moved. Her flesh shivered from the delicious pleasure that came from his lips and breath.

He chuckled darkly as she writhed beneath him.

“Let me show ye the other things I’m good at,” he purred.

The sound was dark and threatened to drive her mad. He kissed along her collarbone, tugging at her gown to expose more of her skin.

Reaching down with one hand, he pulled up her skirts. The fabric tickled as it slid up her skin, making her squirm.

Breathless, Alison arched into his touch, but he did not stop the trail that he was following down her body.

Just as he had the night before, Duncan dropped to his knees. Her round, firm buttocks were already propped on the edge of the bed, her sex on full display for him as he lifted the final layers of fabric.

“There will be more than one feast tonight,” he growled.

Alison placed her palms on the bedsheets, pushing herself up so she could watch him. The sight of him between her thighs, his blue eyes flashing with liquid desire, was enough to make her insides clench with unrequited longing.

His lips pressed against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, the tender flesh tingling as his kisses trailed upward. Up and up he went, nipping and kissing.

Alison’s heart was hammering in her chest, and her head was swimming with frustrated longing. Finally, his mouth reached her eagerly waiting mound.

Duncan paused, looking up at her with a self-satisfied grin. “What do ye say, wife?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Please,” she groaned.

Alison reached forward, her fingers tangling in his hair as he obliged her.

Dipping his head low, Duncan placed his mouth over the opening of her sex. He gave her a long, languid lick that caused her to throw her head back and moan his name to the sky. He pushed his tongue through her outer and inner folds, sucking gently on her swollen pearl and dipping his tongue into her hot, waiting entrance.

The intensity of the tornado inside her core continued to increase as Duncan pleasured her with his agile tongue. Alison screamed and writhed as the ecstasy was about to overtake her senses.

“Please,” she choked out hoarsely.

She felt herself teetering on the precipice. With one final, hard pull on her rigid nub, she began to fall. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, and she cried out his name.

Her body shook uncontrollably with the force of her climax. She had become a ball of exposed nerves, and she couldn’t help the overload of gratification she felt as she attained her release.

Ever so slowly, the waves of pleasure began to subside. She continued to shudder, each aftershock coming and going a little more gently than the one before it, until they finally subsided altogether.

Alison collapsed in a heap on the bed, her arms spread out on either side of her. She could hardly catch her breath, and her head felt foggy.

She felt her skirts being righted, placed back over her thighs. And then, the mattress shifted, telling her that Duncan had joined her on the bed.

Groaning and satiated, she rolled onto her side. Duncan lay next to her, his eyes shining with unfettered bliss.

“Well,” she said in a weak, shaky voice. “Ye did show me one thing ye are good at.”

He chuckled and winked at her seductively. “I’m glad ye think so.”

Alison stared at her husband, her eyes roving over his form with appreciation.

After what he’s done to me, I cannae imagine I have any shame left.

Her eyes abruptly stopped wandering and locked onto one part of his body.

Duncan was lying on his back, his head turned toward her. She could see the outline of a rather impressive bulge beneath his kilt, and it was straining against the fabric.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as an idea came to her mind. Propping herself up on her elbows, she leaned forward and lowered her lips to his, giving him a hard, insistent kiss.

“Was that nae enough?” Duncan murmured into her mouth, chuckling.

“I’ve been taken care of,” she purred. “But now I have to take care of ye.”

He pulled back, his eyes flashing with renewed desire. “What do ye mean?”

It was Alison’s turn to chuckle. “Ye arenae the only one who can use their mouth.”

Duncan smirked, giving her only a moment to respond before removing his kilt and pouncing on her. They resumed their kisses as her hand began roaming over the length of his chest, firm abdomen, and down to the nest of soft fur that encased his manhood. He groaned and gripped her shoulders, urging her to give him the relief he so desperately needed.

She trailed kisses from his neck to his collarbone, down his rippling chest, and across his flat belly until she reached his throbbing member.

Crawling over him, she lowered herself between his parted, muscular legs and lifted his kilt, revealing the swollen, twitching rod between his thighs.

Duncan hissed out a breath between his teeth as she lowered her head to take him into her warm, waiting mouth, returning the pleasure and release he had so freely given to her.

She gripped his hips, and he thrust upward and buried his hands in her hair as she took him in her mouth over and over until his body became rigid and he exploded with pleasure.

After they were both satiated, Alison curled up next to him and smiled. “Now ye ken somethin’ else I’m good at.”