Chapter 9
Was this how it felt to be invisible? Ghillie wondered as everyone went in different directions, leaving him on his own. Not that he e’er was truly alone, with his raven, Heimdall, a mere lift of his hand away. Observation was all part of drawing on his gift, the bits and pieces that expanded on his original notion of what lay ahead for his friends and the truth of why they were all here in Caithness.
Calder had made nae secret of his motive for the journey; few could be blind to the way he and Gilda had flown to each other the moment the trio had reached the settlement. Rory on the other hand had been close-mouthed, unwilling to impart his need to come back here, his desire to experience the Gathering once more, the way he had last year. One couldnae be blamed for thinking that Rory was too busy looking for what he had lost, to see what was right afore his eyes. That said, Ghillie’s gift wasnae given so he might push folk in a direction they had nae desire to take. His was merely the gift of knowing. It was for the gods to map the way.
He’d watched Ainsel practise with Rory, and even though there was a lot in life he was too young to have experienced, he was nae dunce. The tension betwixt his cousin and Ainsel was like a living thing, shimmering frae one to the other in much the same way the lights danced in the night sky, flowing like a curtain that could be cut through by a knife.
Ghillie wouldnae pretend he could read Ainsel’s mind, but while Rory appeared oblivious to their previous connection, she wasnae. Ghillie supposed that was the difference betwixt male and female. He couldnae understand why she hadnae simply told Rory he was a father. However, it could be said that in the history of the McArthur clan, their story wasnae what he’d call unique. His father had told him about the way Rob and Euan McArthur hadnae had one skerrick of suspicion that they were father and son—a type of blindness he found strange when he looked at them now since they were so alike.
He had asked Rowena about it, his mother being the wisest person in his life, and she had said, “Think on what could Morag hae done. She couldnae have written it down in case it fell into the wrong hands, and as for messengers, who did she hae that she could she trust?”
Remembering yon circumstances put what he now thought of as Ainsel’s dilemma, into perspective. How could she have confessed the truth when everyone believed her dead husband to be the bairn’s father?
If only Ghillie had been with them last year, everything would be a lot clearer.
When they were boys, Calder and Rory had messed about in a coracle on the lochan below the waterfall. It had felt unstable, but naught like trying to walk straight inside a dragon boat with the deck coming up to meet him. Gilda laughed at him. “It’s only the tide coming in, rocking the boat. You’ll soon get used to the motion.” The mooring stone anchored the boat near the bow, the dragon facing out into the ness. She patted the bench where she sat in the stern, out of sight frae the beach. “Come sit here by me. It will be interesting, I promise.”
Gilda did interesting very well indeed, as he was aware, and the rise and fall of the boat didnae hamper his progress to the bench, or the speed with which he took her in his arms. Tilting her chin towards him, he made short work of taking her mouth, then slowed down, adding a bit of anticipation while he traced the shape of her lips with his tongue afore sucking the fullness of her bottom lip into his mouth. The humming sound she made in response tingled against his tongue and put paid to his control. While he fed on her taste, her sweetness, her fingers quickly unfastened the buckle at his waist, loosening his shirt, allowing her hands to explore underneath.
Once they pulled apart, gasping for air. “This shirt … it has to come off. I want to get closer, need to get closer,” she panted, pushing the linen higher, until he removed it frae her fingers and whipped it off o’er his head, letting it fall onto the wooden deck.
“It is nae use only one of us being naked, lass. Ye have to join me,” he growled, shifting on the bench until his plaid went the way of his shirt, leaving his hardened state more than obvious.
“Ach, ye have nae need to ask twice.” She skimmed the back of her fingers down the vein pulsing along the length of his prick. “Is all that for me?”
“There’s nae one else it wants, only Gilda—only ye, lass.” He groaned as she stood and pulled her kirtle o’er her head and revealed herself to him. The sun gilded her skin, a golden angel presented for his appreciation. Calder reached. He touched, skimmed his palms frae ribs to hips finding pleasure in both—his. He leaned forward and nipped at the curve of her pelvis, sucked, leaving his mark. It was nae great stretch to carry on once he’d started, so he licked his way across to her navel. She quivered, he raised his head and liked what he saw in her eyes.
A golden cage hid her mons, which he parted with his thumbs revealing soft pink folds, tempting. He had to taste. One long wet stroke and she moaned, her fingers fisting in his hair as he drew her into his mouth. He chuckled, his breath teasing her tender entrance the way his tongue had. He gripped her thighs as her knees gave way. “Did ye enjoy that lass? Would ye like more?”
“As pleasurable as that is, I do want more, want all of ye. I want ye inside me. Dinnae make me wait Calder. I’ve been thinking of this all day.” Her voice was low, heated, impatient, and he had a mind to give her exactly what she wanted, but her taste coating his lips made his prick swell bigger, as if it might burst out of its skin, and he worried if he gave her what she wanted he would hurt her.
“In a moment. I too want that more than anything. I’ve been thinking about it for a year, but let me make sure yer ready lass.” She was wet. He slid one finger inside her, then two, ach aye, nae need to wait.
She caught his cheeks betwixt her palms and turned his face up to stare into his eyes, catching his gaze up in a sea of rimmed with pure gold. “Ye have been thinking about me for a whole year?”
“Frae the moment we walked up the hills bordering the settlement until I rode back in and saw ye again.” Nae point in lying, he realised, when the truth served ye much better. “How do ye feel about straddling me?” He patted her buttocks with the flat of his hand. “Better that getting splinters in yer braw wee arse.”
Gilda rolled her eyes, and the corner of her lips quirked. “I’ve always dreamed of finding myself a bonnie gallant knight.”
Calder smoothed his palms o’er the curve of yon braw buttocks. “Gallant, mayhap a rough one. I can tell ye that yer skin feels like silk, soft as the water that flows into the lochan at Dun Bhuird, and I wouldnae like to harm it,” he said lifting her as he spoke, spreading her legs until they were wrapped round his hips and her honeyed core balanced above him. “Do ye want this, Gilda? Do ye want me inside ye?”
In reply she gradually slid down, taking him into her heat. He stopped breathing, didnae care, for wouldnae he die happy having experienced this, experienced Gilda? His heart felt it would burst as he held still, listening to her hum in his ear until finally a groan ripped frae his chest and he dragged in air knowing he filled her. Knowing this is why he had come back to Caithness—Gilda—and he refused to go without her again. For long moments they didnae move, didnae speak, simply breathed and held each other. Neither of them was responsible for the rocking sensation as the tide came in and the water deepened beneath the hull making them sway together.
He became aware of a slight cooling breeze off the land on his back and the warmth of Gilda’s skin, her breasts against his chest, hard nipples rubbing. “Much as I love holding ye sweeting, I have to move,” he told her, hips flexing in demonstration, penetrating farther than he’d believed possible. Gilda planted her feet on the bench either side of his hips and suddenly they were in a race, both striving to reach that place, that moment of extreme wonder that surely was meant only for the gods.
Calder thrust upward as Gilda clenched around him, her fingernails biting into his shoulders and harsh breath shuddering frae betwixt her lips scraped across his skin like the blade of a dull knife, signalling that the end of this race they were running was closing in fast. He reached up, gripped her face as if it was the only thing keeping him from floating away. He covered her mouth with his own and tangled his tongue with hers—sweet, necessary, like breathing. He prided himself on his control, but with Gilda it would be so easy to let go, and when he felt her sex flutter around him he lifted his mouth and let her scream out his name: “Ca-alder!” It was like permission to let go and fly away. To follow her into the sky where the sun awaited them.
Heat radiated off both of them as if the sun’s flames had indeed licked them all o’er.
Gilda was shaking—nae sobbing. His shoulder was damp where her forehead rested in the crook betwixt shoulder and neck. “Gilda lass, did I hurt ye? I wouldnae do that for all the world.”
Gilda lifted her head. Her cheeks were sodden with tears at odds with the beatific smile on her lips. “I cannae help it.” Her mouth trembled, the pout of her full bottom lip, red frae where his had mauled it in passion. “It was wonderful, unbelievable, the feelings welling up inside me. It’s just that I remembered how it was last time when ye left and I thought how can I go through that again?”
He let out a sigh, his chest shuddered with such relief he almost laughed, holding it back for fear he insulted her. “Gilda, lass, di ye think I would do that to ye twice—do that to both of us.” He hauled her close again and kissed away the tears frae her cheeks murmuring soothing nonsense such as ye might to a bairn until she turned her head to follow his lips with her own. A touch that made him need to lie her down on the bench and take her again, and he would but not yet. He owed Gilda more than that.
He put her from him and wiped the tears frae her lashes, a thumb under each eye. “I love ye lass, I always will, and when I leave for Dun Bhuird, I’m taking ye with me.”