Chapter Nine #2
knowledge that he could be watching her was unexpectedly
arousing. She felt her clit pulse and her nipples harden under the
streaming, hot water.
What. Is. Wrong. With. Me?
Her hands glided over her distended nipples,
forcing a moan from her. She played with them, tweaking and
touching, until her breathing was heavy. Closing her eyes on a
groan, she reached one hand between her thighs and found her
pulsating clit. She touched it tentatively at first, growing bolder
with her exploration as she found just the right position for
maximum arousal. Two of her fingers rubbed the swollen bud, her
movements quickening with her breathing.
Veronica’s thoughts remained on the brooding
laird as she worked her body into a fevered pitch. Physically, she
now understood he’d always aroused her. After today she realized he
also mentally stimulated her. She rubbed her clit harder and
faster, moaning and groaning, wishing she could fill herself with
Lachlan’s cock. She rubbed and rubbed, her nipples rock hard, until
at last—
She came hard and loud, groaning like an
animal from the intensity of her orgasm. Blood rushed to her face,
nipples, and clit, enflaming her entire body. Her eyes remained
closed as her groan faded to a whimper, flicking open when at last
she regained her senses.
“Wow.” She breathed in deeply and exhaled
shakily. “Haven’t done that in years,” she murmured to no
one.
As her body began to relax, a peaceful
sleepiness set in. Veronica turned off the shower and wrapped her
body in a clean towel. She slept naked that night, praying her body
didn’t slip out from beneath the covers so her brother didn’t catch
her in the nude. That would be a little too awkward.
It was Lachlan—dark, mysterious Lachlan—who
she went to sleep thinking about. He was strong, powerful, and
seemed to care about her welfare for whatever reason. He even
watched over her in her dreams.
*****
Lachlan came on a growl, seed spurting from
his cock. His breathing ragged, his heart beating like mad, he
continued tugging at his shaft until all his cum was spent. She had
bewitched him with all certainty. Was she here in the flesh he
would ride her for the whole of the eve, pumping in and out of her
pussy until they were both too exhausted to move.
But she wasn’t here. Not yet.
His body replete, he laid abed a long while,
his thoughts on Veronica. He had spent the day watching her everra
move rather than training his men—again. When she had neared the
screen, he had felt ‘twas the time to finally speak with her. He
had been practicing his future-English with Victor every morn for a
fortnight. He grunted. His future-English was not so good.
Thankfully, Veronica was learning Gaelic with more success because
talking to her, getting to know her person…
‘Twas wondrous, that. He was unaccustomed to
speaking so freely with anyone, much less a female. His guard had
felt more than a wee bit lowered with her. The experience was as
discomfiting as it was heady. Her attention on his person had
forced his heartbeat to quicken in a way he’d never afore known. He
dinna ken what to make of that.
He'd continued watching her through the AI
scanner even after their conversation had ended. Everything aboot
her fascinated him. Mayhap ‘twas her beauty. Mayhap ‘twas the
novelty of espying upon a wench so far into the future. Mayhap
‘twas simply her. He chose not to dwell on it.
‘Twas after she stood under the waterfall,
touching and rubbing herself until she burst, that Lachlan could
take no more. He’d quickly returned the scanner to Victor afore
making his way back to his bedchamber and finding his own
completion. Which brought him to where he now lay, his breathing at
last returning to normal.
The wench was bewitching, yet he could
scarcely wait to speak with her again. He could but pray this
obsession left him soon for he needed to be training with the Gunn
warriors rather than leaving all of the work to Ramsay and Finn.
They were fine warriors to be sure, but they were not Lachlan. He
was laird here because of his battling skills and he needed to
return to his duties the soonest.
His clan depended upon him. His warriors
depended upon his training. Those were facts he couldna and wouldna
take for granted.
The next morn, preparing to go train his
men, he couldna resist the lure of speaking to Veronica first.
Taking the AI scanner from Victor, he vowed to himself as he
carried it to his bedchamber that he would resume his duties after
one more wee conversation. Ever the possibility, the Gunn warriors
needed to be ready to fight the bastard Campbells at all times. The
surly, old Campbell laird was no threat to Lachlan, yet he took to
rabble-rousing everra now and again. Mayhap to remind the Highlands
he was still fierce, old mon or no. ‘Twas bothersome, but not
worrisome. Still, he preferred his warriors to always remain in
excellent fighting shape.
When at last the scanner focused in on
Veronica, his heart took to beating faster. This feeling must have
been what accounted for his sire’s tendency to spoil his mum with
trinkets and baubles whilst he’d lived. There was naught the woman
asked for that he dinna willingly give.
Veronica was dressed in her fierce warrior
attire again, her body adorned with shiny black braies that fell
just below the navel and a shiny black shirt that fell just above
it. Her long, silken curls pooled about her shoulders, flowing down
to mid-back. Her cat-like, emerald eyes were gleaming. She looked
well rested and nigh unto glowing like an angel.
He resisted the urge to raise a palm to his
forehead. The wench was driving him to fanciful thoughts. Lachlan
couldna let her weaken him, though his deceased sire would like as
naught insist she was strengthening him instead. “You will ken
you have wed the right lass,” he’d once said, “when you feel
weaker around her and stronger whilst protecting her and the clan.
Your desire to safeguard her will have no bounds.”
“Good morning, Lachlan.”
Her smile was warm, welcoming, and bluidy
disarming. Damn it all, he couldna help but to smile back.
Leastways, a wee bit. “Good morn, Lady Veronica.”
“How are you today?”
Her knowledge of Gaelic was progressing
verra rapidly. Even Veronica’s accent had tempered somewhat. How
was that possible in one eve’s time? “I am well, lass—verra well
now that I am speaking to you.” Aye, she was weakening him whilst
in her presence.
“It is sweet of you to say that.” Her nose
wrinkled. “And, no, that is not an insult either.”
His bedamned heart kept racing. He wished he
could pull her through the screen and into his embrace. “The seas
are being kind?”
“Very. It rained last night, but only softly
and briefly. Today there isn’t a cloud in the sky. It’s beautiful
here.”
Lachlan inclined his head. “You are
preparing to practice your, uh…”
“Kalari,” she cut in. “It’s a battle
technique way older than you are.” She grinned. “Seeing as how
you’re over nine hundred years old in my time, that’s saying a
lot.”
He smiled. His gaze memorized her face, her
expressions, her everrathing. “Mayhap you will teach it to me the
soonest.”
“I’d enjoy that. Perhaps I will.”
They both stood in silence for a prolonged
moment, each of them assessing the other. Lachlan dinna ken what
she thought of him, but Veronica was all he thought aboot. “You
look well rested. I pray you have eaten well this morn too?”
“I have. Victor spared no expense in
stocking the boat. It’s a nice feeling not having to worry about
where my next meal is coming from.”
Veronica had endured much—too much. He dinna
wish to leave their conversation, yet he recognized his duty. “I
must train my men this morn,” he announced. “I would speak with you
again verra soon.”
Her head cocked to the side. “I would enjoy
that.”
“Dinna think the worst if I am absent a few
days. I must ride to the borderlands, to where Gunn and Campbell
lands meet, and patrol with my warriors for a time.”
“I see.”
Was he being wishful in his thinking or had
the news of his impending leave-taking caused her face to fall a
wee bit? Lachlan decided he was being fanciful.
“Are they giving you trouble?” she
asked.
“Not really. I just have to remind them who
is the stronger warlord everra now and again.”
She nodded. It looked like she was aboot to
say something then decided against it. “In that case, don’t let me
keep you. I should concentrate on learning my Gaelic and practicing
Kalari anyway.”
Lachlan inclined his head. Aye, he was just
being whimsical in his thinking. “Until we speak again,
milady.”
Her smile was the sort a mon could lose
himself in and never wish to find a way back from it. “Until we
speak again, milord.”
Veronica closed the laptop, ending their
communication. She lingered at the thing for a long pause, her
expression unreadable. Eventually she picked up her weapons and
resumed her Kalari training. By the saints, she was perfection.
Lachlan watched her for a time then strode
back to Victor’s bedchamber to return the future device to him. He
stilled, blowing out a breath. He best let his cock go down afore
he opened the bedamned doors.