Celtic Fury Read online

  He wanted to take those dusky tips into his mouth and suckle until she was weak with wanting him, but as he reached down for her, she scolded, “Mine!”

  Rory then allowed her to continue in her seduction. Her hands slid under his leine, easing over his stomach to his chest. Kissing him, she felt him hold her tentatively. He would give it all to her and not take away from her enticement, but he had to hold her…this time. But he would have a turn later and he would make her crazed with pleasure. He smiled to himself at the wickedly wonderful prospect.

  Brielle lifted his leine up and helped him out of it. Rory watched her as she kissed over his chest. She leaned up and kissed his corded neck, nipping gently with her teeth to cause him jolts of pleasure. That sent fire into his loins and he felt his cock twitch against her thigh. Her hands touched everywhere and her mouth followed. He ached to touch her more intimately, too, still he let her have her way. He wanted her to be able to initiate their lovemaking, so in allowing Brielle to entice him, he fostered the trust and acceptance of anything she wished to do. He never wanted her to feel like something was not to his liking. In fact, he wanted to try anything she wanted. He looked forward to all the passion he knew they would share.

  She kissed lower, slowly moving to her knees. Her lips wandered over the flat plane of his stomach, which caused him to actually suck it in deeper, as her kisses sent shockwaves through him.

  Looking up at him, she said, “Mmm, look at how big ye' are. I would like to kiss every inch of you.”

  Rory held his breath; wanting her to proceed. She moved her lips tauntingly over his thighs, gently nipping the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs in the process. While looking up at him, her eyes locked with his, she moved her lips to the base of his cock. She kissed it ever so gently. She felt Rory go very still. She figured if it felt sublime for her, it must feel good for him, to have her mouth do the things her body naturally did. She watched his larynx move down as he observed her.

  “Ah, yes, Love? Should I kiss ye’ here?” A muscle worked in his jaw and he just nodded. She giggled and the magical sound drew his eyes down to her. She was happy in her playful seduction and it warmed his heart.

  Her lips tentatively kissed over his length and then she just opened her mouth and took him deeply inside. His hands flexed on her shoulders and he threw his head back and moaned. She watched him as her mouth sucked, her tongue flicking against the sensitive head. His strong neck was tipped back and he had a look of pleasure etched in his expression. She suddenly only wanted to please him. She wanted to take him to heights she had only just begun learning existed. Her hands gripped his hips and her mouth took him deeper still.

  He found his voice and said, “Oooh, Lass, ye' dunna' know what that does to a man.”

  His voice was husky with desire and emotion. She felt that now familiar wash of desire inside of her as well. She could feel the hot wet response happening quickly. As her mouth moved rhythmically up and down his shaft, she felt him holding her shoulders. She interspersed taking him deeply into her hot little mouth with swirling her tongue around the softer tip, tracing the opening with it. He moaned again, from somewhere almost deep in his chest.

  She murmured, “Mine…” Rory was hers and that thought sent warmth spiraling through her.

  Brielle would see all his demons gone by loving him with her heart, soul and body. She looked up at him and saw he was once again watching her. She raised big sexy eyes to his gaze and swirled her tongue around him again. He drew her up into his arms, stopping her from continuing. She looked puzzled because it was apparent he had been enjoying what she was doing.

  He just smiled at her and said, “Sweetheart, that is wonderful, but it is making me…very excited and I want ye' so much.” He held her tightly against himself and he could feel her nipples grazing his chest. He was awash in sensation and felt as taught as a drawn bowstring. He needed her badly. It had gone to fever pitched so quickly. He kissed her and scooping her up in his arms, laid her on the bed. His plaid was caught beneath her. He felt a hitch in his heart as she was swaddled in his plaid. There was no more clan division. Here, surrounded by his colors, she was his woman! He removed his boots and watched her sit up to remove her gown and chemise. She offered herself un-shyly to him. He joined her on the bed.

  He touched her face, gazing into her eyes and he said, “I need ye’.”

  “I feel yer’ need, my love and it is mirrored only by my need of ye'.”

  “I dunna’ understand this thing that is between us…”

  She kissed his jaw and whispered, “No? It is love Ruiri.”

  “I had loved afore… but this…this is different. It is different with you.”

  “Aye, Ruiri. I can ne’er be the same as the person ye' loved long ago, but I know she wants ye' to love again.”

  “And I do. I feel free to love ye', now. I do love ye', Brielle; with all my heart.” Her lips wandered over his chin and down his neck.

  “Then love me now. Love me with yer’ body and let me love ye'. Be one with me.”

  Rory moved her over him. His hand softly reached out and touched her breast. He moaned, just touching her. He whispered, “Oh, so beautiful…” He kissed her neck and shoulder and then lifted that same breast to his hungry mouth. She began gently rubbing against him, teasing him and he released her breasts.

  “Oooh, lass, ye are very wet. I can feel yer’ heat against me.” His hand slid between them and he slipped it between her thighs.

  “Oh, yes. Love, so wet!” She moaned feeling him touch her. His fingers circled her, wanting to entice her, but she was already prepared to take him. He shifted her, drawing her hips forward and he felt her lower herself onto him. She was so wet that his cock slid easily inside her, and she sheathed him perfectly in one deep stroke. His hands eased over her back.

  He loved looking into her eyes while they made love. It was so intense to see the love in her gaze…love that was meant only for him. Rory also loved watching her react to him as her excitement grew.

  “Brielle, oh my Brielle. Ye are so beautiful…and more so when ye love me.”

  Rocking over him, she said, “Ahh Ruiri, love me. Fill me.” She felt him so deep inside her. She marveled that it had only been a day since he had claimed her as his, but it felt infinite. How could it only have been a day?

  “Aye, only a day, but now and forever.”

  “Forever Ruiri.”

  Their hearts spoke to each other, as their voices needed no words. She felt him surging strong; his length filling her. He could feel her clenching around him. It was making him quickly reach that point toward release. His mouth devoured her, hungrily kissing her. She moaned into the kiss and he could feel her dewy reaction. She was so wet, he almost thought her essence was dripping from her like sweet nectar. How he wanted that on his tongue! In fact remembering that he had felt her, he licked his fingers, tasting her sweetness. He whispered close to her ear how he wanted her honeyed flavor on his lips. That made her blush, but she smiled, despite her blushing response, because she remembered how very much she had enjoyed it and how she had her first orgasm from just that very thing. He kissed her and nibbled, causing sweet shocks to course through her. She was sighing, “Ruiri, oh, Ruiri,” mewling with pleasure.

  “Yes, my love. I feel it too. Let it happen. I want ye’ to come, Sweet Angel.”

  His words, like caresses, took her to the edge. Her hips moved against him and she clenched around his shaft, rippling around him and she moaned, “With me…come with me…”

  As she pulsed around him and she experienced her climax, he watched her come in his arms. That finished him. He tensed and then released; filling her with his hot molten seed. Feeling his release, Brielle cried out again.

  He felt her trembling in his arms and he soothed, “Yes my love, feel me deep inside you. I am one with ye’.”

  She arched back, holding onto his shoulders and her sweet hips pumped against him as wave after wave of delicious ecstasy coursed ove
r them both. As the last drop of his essence filled her, he gently shifted her onto her back and moved over her. He kissed her passionately; deeply, letting his tongue imitate the gentle thrusting as he continued moving slowly within her as he still remained somewhat hard. Her little moans told him she did not want it to end just yet either. He kissed her again and felt the velvet of her tongue caress into his mouth.

  He whispered, “Oh, love, I canna’ get my fill of ye’. I crave to be one with ye' again and again.”

  “Oh, aye, Ruiri, I do too.”

  “My beautiful, passionate angel. Oh, God, how I love ye’!”

  Brielle reached up to kiss him. Her heart was filled near to bursting with love. As Rory finally withdrew from her, he took her into his arms and held her. She rested against him, one leg drawn sensually between his two powerful thighs. She felt thoroughly sated and relaxed as if her entire body had been caressed. Rory breathed in her scent, filling his lungs with her fragrance of soft wildflowers and the sensual scent from having loved her. She was soft in his arms. He stroked her shoulder gently and lovingly cupped a breast.

  “What says ye to that nap, my love?”

  Sidling to him, she purred, “Mmmm, sounds perfect.”

  He pulled a fur about her and he felt her nestling close to him. He liked the feel of her leg over him. It was possessive but sensual, too. It was like she was saying he was hers and she was not going to release his body from her hold. She loved the feel of his hand stroking her. Her lips wandered over his neck and she relaxed with him. It wasn’t long before they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms in the afterglow of their lovemaking, spent from their passion.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Roderick Campbell was in a blind rage. Even the messenger before him seemed daunted by the tirade as Roderick screamed with obscene expletives. He threw his tankard to the floor, splattering his ale on the rug and tapestries. His face was nearly purple with anger.

  “Where is my sister, the whore, now?”

  “She is with MacCollum even as we speak.”

  “She is a married woman! Val Cour…”

  “Marcus Val Cour is dead, Roderick. She left to come home.”

  “Come home? Who the hell wanted her home? Her home is back in England at Val Cour Manor as the grieving widow…not as the slut to Rory MacCollum!”

  “She was returning home and there was an accident. They said the Wolf found her.” Kicking a candle stand and sending the candles scattered; melted wax dripping onto the floor, Roderick fairly exploded with rage.

  “No doubt that cur will try to use her agin’ me. And now she is with him? She is with him?”

  “Aye, it seems so. She was seen in the village with him.” Jerome McManus knew he shouldn’t dare to provoke Roderick, who had already been heavy in his cups by the time he arrived at Castle Campbell, but he couldn’t resist adding, “They were all over each other. She couldna’ keep her hands from him, even in the public of the village.”

  Quiet fury washed over Roderick, which Jerome knew was worse than the black temper tantrums Roderick was known for. It would simmer and then explode. Jerome instinctively backed up a space, seeing the warning signs bubbling.

  “Too long has MacCollum sought to destroy Campbell. Now the Rabid Wolf has that stupid bitch of a sister of mine, using her as his whore and laughing at us in the process.”

  Roderick picked up an inkwell and dashed it against the wall, adding to the growing mess in the squalor of the room.

  “I will make them pay. They will both pay for this humiliation. This at last gives me just cause to kill that whore’s son. I should have killed him that day all those years ago when his pasty faced breeding bitch got in the way of the arrow meant for his black heart. Now he is tupping my sister, rutting her like the hellhound he is. He must pay for this.”

  Despite his drunken state, Roderick was strong. It was like the drink gave him strength and fed his fire. Picking up the candle stand, he swung it hard, like a titan in battle, crashing it against the mantle of the fireplace, splintering the wood into shards. Jerome took another instinctive step back and he stammered, “What…d-do you plan to do?”

  “Do? I plan to gut that rutting bastard. Preferably before my sister's very eyes! Ohhhh how I shall enjoy sliding my dirk into his belly as he begs me to spare him.”

  Drool had formed at the corners of Roderick’s mouth, like a true mad man. Jerome almost thought the way it festered and exploded bordered on sexual release.

  “That stupid harlot! I arrange for someone to marry that worthless piece of trash when no one else would have her and she brings this dishonor to our doorstep? She has made folly of her clan by becoming the willing whore of Rory MacCollum!!! Oh, I want to choke the life out of her scrawny neck.” Jerome saw Roderick was now deep in his rage; incoherent from the power of it.

  He thought to slip away while he had his chance, but Roderick turned on him, swinging the candle stand again and said, “Find her. Take her and bring that whore home. Once she is here, he will come…ohhh and when he does, I shall enjoy gutting the almighty Wolf of the Highlands. And when he has breathed his last, I will toss that unappreciative harlot to anyone who will ever wish to enjoy her.”

  Jerome nodded, ever the dutiful servant, but then again, perhaps, he would be rewarded by sampling her, when Roderick left her to his men. Yes, he would bring her home. He had thought to marry her long ago, but she never even cast him a glance. The likes of Jerome McManus was not good enough for the granddaughter of the Campbell Laird. She never even said a word to him. Besides he did not have the bride price Roderick was able to get from Marcus Val Cour. Brielle was a rare beauty, albeit thick-witted, according to Roderick.

  He should have taken her when he had the chance, but he had no pride in that regard. He would take her when Roderick gave her over. She would have been used, no longer untried, but it was of no consequence to him. Virgins made cold bed partners anyway. Better to bed a whore and bed her he would! Jerome McManus would use her and spend himself on her. That was a certainty! If she resisted, he would finish her like he had done to that unwilling bitch some years ago. He rutted the unwilling serving wench and kept her from crying out by pressing down on her throat. He had wanted to watch her as he took her over and over, but somewhere in the midst of it she collapsed. He thought she had only fainted, but he found she had expired there and then. Stupid bitch, caused him a world of trouble, but he dumped her lifeless body down a ravine and no one ever heard from her again.

  “Aye, I will gather your sister home,” Jerome said, hardly coming out of his reverie. In taking his leave of Roderick Campbell, Jerome McManus let his mind slip into lurid daydreams of bedding Gabrielle Campbell; imagining her squirming and screaming as he took her. He almost couldn't wait.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rory had not realized how very tired he had been. It was almost as if releasing the restraints on his heart enabled him to sleep, finally finding the peace he had longed for. How long had it been that his dreams were uninterrupted? How long since his sleeping hours were not tormented with memories of the past? Brielle had come to cast out his demons and he was healing from the darkness that long had prevented him the simplest of pleasures; even restful sleep. He slowly came awake, feeling the soft lips of his Brielle kissing him. He breathed in and held her, still sleepy from napping with her.

  “Ruiri,” she asked.

  “Yes, love,” he murmured; his eyes still shut, relaxed and sated.

  “How do ye do that thing?” A grin lifted his lips.

  “Which thing, love? The one where I make ye’ come from tasting ye’?”

  “No…”

  “The one where I make ye’ cry out in pleasure from filling ye’?”

  “Ruiri, I am not talking about THOSE things. Yer’ voice, clear as spoken, yet unspoken. I can hear it…”

  “I dunna’ know, lass. It has never happened before. Ye’ seem to do it too.” Opening his eyes to look at her, he felt so happy to feel
her in his arms. One of her hands traced down his chest.

  “I thought you had heard it from me, too,” she said. His big hand eased past her hip to the curve of her waist and trailed gently over her back.

  “I have, Love, several times now.” Resting her arms across his chest she said,

  “How is it possible, Ruiri?”

  “I know not, lass. I just think it is because we were meant for each other. I think it is important for us somehow…like it may come in handy should we need it. It is like our own personal language meant just between us.”

  Brielle looked into his intense golden eyes, like the color of that warm whiskey known for in these parts. She tested their newly found gift.

  Ruiri, I love you. He smiled as he heard her thoughts clearly. He answered her in thought, I love ye’, my angel.

  She kissed him fiercely. He turned over her, kissing her mouth and letting his hands gently roam over her body. She sighed in his arms, wanting him again. He laughed, feeling her wakening desire build and he said, “What? Again, lass? Ye’ will wear me out. Ye’ are insatiable.”

  “I canna’ help it. It is the most wonderful thing I have ever felt.”

  “Och, lassie, it’s because ye’ have no other to compare it to.”

  “I’ve no need to. I love it with ye’. No one else will feel like it does with ye’.”

  Ruiri nibbled down her neck, over her chest and belly, sending shivers all the way through her. She loved the feel of his tender bites against her. She felt playfulness in it as he nibbled all around her navel. He looked up at her and she saw his smile, but also the intensity of desire in his eyes. He wanted her and feeling him want her was like a precious gift.