Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ewan got to his feet, exposing the full glory of his nakedness to her breathless gaze. He was truly splendid as he stepped from the tub onto the corded mat beside the tub, water streaming down his shining form.
Then, taking two large sheets of linen, he held a hand to help her out of the water and wrapped them both in the coarsely woven fabric.
He dried himself quickly, then used the second sheet to dry her, swaddling her in the cloth from shoulder to ankles. As he hoisted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, she thrummed with anticipation, every part of her sparking with the fire they had ignited as they bathed.
He laid her on the bed, gazing down at her. She was pink and soft and sweetly-scented, her skin glowing, her still-damp hair a mass of golden light with tiny ringlets falling about her face.
She was utterly delectable and utterly irresistible as she lay there looking up at him, her hazel eyes shining, her plush lips full and inviting.
He moaned, leaning down and buried his head in the fragrant profusion of the tendrils and locks of her hair spread across the pillow.
He lifted his head, hungry for her lips, aching for her kiss, her touch, and the silk-satin of her warm skin. Slowly unwrapping the towel, first from her shoulders, he kissed the arch of her delicate throat, breathing in her scent, his heart stuttering, his senses swimming with delight.
He kissed the smoothness of her shoulders, first one then the other, and lowered the sheet that still wrapped her loosely.
She uttered a loud sigh as he released her arms and she took his head in her hands and held him so that he kissed her mouth, tasting the sweetness of it, inhaling the delicate fragrance of roses.
“Mmm, ye’re good enough tae eat, me lady. I wish tae taste all of ye.”
She laughed in his mouth, pressing her bare breasts against him so that the warm, smooth skin of her nakedness tussled with the roughness of the hairs on his chest.
“I like how that feels,” she whispered and he groaned at the sheer overriding pleasure of tingling sensation.
His hand cupped her breast, teasing the pink nubs, his own pleasure heightened by her little gasps and moans as his finger and thumb traced circles and he laid his mouth to suckle her.
“Oh me dear Laird Mackenzie, ye…” she groaned, leaving him to imagine her next words.
He raised his head, liking the little sound of disappointment she made as he did so. “What is it that I dae tae ye?” He moved his hand lower, cupping her mound. “Is it this, ye like?”
“Hmm,” she groaned again, sucking in a hard breath, arching her back. “That thing, wi’…yer finger, it’s…” her words were lost once more and he chuckled.
He swirled his tongue in her belly button while his fingers worked wicked magic between her folds.
Then he kissed a trail down her belly where his fingers had been moments before and unfolded that last of the towel so that at last her legs were free.
With one hand he parted her knees, and lowered his head to kiss her mound again, toying her soft curls with his tongue. Then as she moaned under him, he laid her pink, wet folds open to his gaze.
He groaned, his shaft throbbing from the pressure of its own hardness. “Ye’re the bonniest sight I’ve ever rested me eyes on sweet lass.” He looked up meeting her gaze, her eyes dark as moss. “Can I kiss ye there and taste the sweetness between yer thighs?”
She gave a little huff, sucking in her breath, struggling to form the word. “Aye,” she breathed it, almost lost by now.
His senses were on fire for her, he wanted everything of her, her touch, her taste, to savor every part of her. His shaft ached for entry, and he groaned at the thought of her long, lithe legs wrapping him and the feel of her velvet surrounding him as he plunged inside her.
Gritting his teeth, he forced his restraint. It was her pleasure and the wild storm of her desire now that were uppermost in his mind.
He licked and sucked, gently at first, then as she moaned and bucked against him, he grew bolder, tasting the sweet-salty flavor of her on his tongue. She gripped his head, her fingers tangling in his hair, crying his name, until at last he felt her spasms and heard her cries of ecstasy.
“Oh my, I had nay idea there could be such… such…” She was lost for words and he chuckled as she caught her ragged breathing and subsided into her pillows, spent, satiated, and filled with wonder.
“Ye’re made fer love, lass.” He groaned inwardly, wanting her so badly but calling on all his willpower to give him the restraint he’s promised.
But he was wrong, she was not yet satisfied.
As she gazed up at him, he caught her lips quirking in a mischievous grin.
“’Tis well fer me, Mackenzie, but what of this.” She reached a hand to grasp his shaft, still rigid and defiantly unyielding.
He groaned and rolled onto his back, where it stood to attention, ignoring his will to render it useless.
Tyra laughed. “What can I dae fer ye, now that ye’ve pleasured me so perfectly. Should I kiss and caress ye there as ye’ve done fer me?”
Despite himself he felt his face flush with heat.
“Are ye certain lass? Ye dinnae need tae—”
In answer, she leaned over and planted the softest of kisses on his tip.
He groaned again. “Lass, if ye’re wanting tae transport me tae paradise, yer touch needs tae be firm.”
In response she gripped his shaft and moved her hand up and down its length.
“’Tis a formidable weapon ye’re brandishing me laird,” she said with a little laugh. “Shall I ply it wi’ me tongue?”
“If ye wish it, I shall lie here at yer mercy. Dae as ye please.”
He placed his hands under his head and lay back, as she stroked him and placed her lips around his tip.”
“By all the fallen angels ‘tis certain ye’re bringing me tae bliss, wee wifey.” He bucked his hips under her hand, and lips, as her tongue found his slit and toyed there. He groaned loudly as his senses flew him to a feverish state of utmost bliss, infinite and amazing, that ended all too soon.
He felt the inevitable surge beginning somewhere near his nape, rushing down his spine, storming through him to his shaft in starbursts and flashes of light.
Groaning and roaring her name, he lost himself in wonder, spilling his seed in a series of ecstatic spasms so powerful that they left him momentarily drained of strength and robbed of breath.
He returned to earth for just long enough to pull the covers over their nakedness before they curled into each other and within two heartbeats were both lost to sleep.
The morning broke soft and grey over Eilean Donan, the mist rolling off the loch like a living thing, curling around the stone walls of the castle and the heather beyond.
Tyra breathed in the smell of damp moss and pine, as she and Ewan accompanied Edmund and Annora through the heavy timber sea gate, the cries of gulls echoing mournfully above them as they descended the stairs to the landing
Edmund’s birlinn sat waiting on Loch, his men already at their oars and taking other positions on board. The sailmaster raised the sail as they stepped up to the boarding platform.
Annora adjusted her cloak against the chill. They had lingered longer than intended, but both knew their absence from their own keep at Scorrybreac could not stretch further. Duty called them home, as surely as the tide pulled at the loch’s edge.
Tyra stood before them, trying to keep her expression composed though her throat ached.
She had grown used to having her brother’s presence near these past days.
His teasing, his steady strength, and Annora’s soft laughter that had warmed the hall.
Now, watching them prepare to leave, she felt as if a part of her life were being pulled away once more.
Annora reached her first, eyes bright with affection. “Ye’ll dae well here, Tyra. I can see it in the way Ewan looks at ye – he’s already lost, in love.”
Tyra laughed, though her eyes shimmered with tears. “And ye’ve grown bold with yer words, me sister.”
Annora smiled. “Marriage daes that. Ye’ll learn soon enough.”
They embraced tightly, and when Annora drew back, she brushed Tyra’s cheek with her thumb. “Keep faith in him. And in yerself. But promise me ye’ll stay vigilant, follow what ye’re told and dinnae take any risks.”
Tyra nodded, her blood chilling at the reminder of the danger which was as potent as ever.
She made a faux laugh. “Dinnae fash, sweet sister. I’ll be as cautious as a wee mouse. Ye’ve nay cause fer concern.” She glanced shyly at Ewan, who was deep in conversation with Edmund. “As ye ken, I am well protected and our castle stronghold will keep out any who would dae me harm.”
Then Edmund stepped forward. His broad shadow fell over his sister, and though his face was solemn, his eyes were gentle. “We’ll be nay more than a day’s sail. If ye’ve need of me—”
“I’ll send word,” Tyra finished for him. “Aye, I ken.”
Still, she clung to him a heartbeat longer, unwilling to let go. When she finally released him, her hand lingered on his sleeve. “Be safe on the sea. And take care of Annora.”
“That I will. But dinnae forget she’s fiercer than she looks,” he added with a small grin. Then his voice softened. “Ye’ve grown into yer own, Tyra. I’m proud of ye.”
Her throat tightened. “I’ll try tae make ye remain so.”
Ewan stood beside her, one arm around her shoulders, silent but solid – the anchor she needed as the Laird MacNeacail and his Lady Annora boarded the vessel. The ropes were untied and the birlinn slipped from the mooring, beginning their slow departure out into the loch.
Standing on the prow, Edmund raised a hand in farewell, and Annora turned for one last look, her cloak fluttering in the breeze.
Tyra and Ewan watched them sail until the ship was no more than a tiny speck in the far distance.
She brushed aside her tears as they wended their way back up the steps to the sea gate.
For a long while, Tyra remained still, watching the mist close behind them. Then, she turned and, passing through the gate, entered the keep. The halls and passages felt strangely hollow after Edmund and Annora’s departure.
“It feels too quiet now,” Tyra said softly.
Ewan glanced down at her, the corner of his mouth curving faintly. “Aye, quiet—but not empty.” He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Come, lass. Ye’ll freeze standing there.”