Broken Highlander's Blood Oath (10 page)

“Donan,” Analise mewled, quivering and nearly trying to escape his hand and forearm anchoring her fleshy-slanted bottom.

“Oh no, sugar lass, you’ll not escape me with any pretense of shyness,” he murmured huskily, using the wide width of his hand to dig into the plump meat of her buttocks, while his fingertips smeared the gathering dew between the folds of her soft pussy. Those fragile and heated pussy lips supped his finger deeper, until he used his other finger to separate the fevered lips open; flaring out the wings, to unfold the nightingale’s heart.

Analise moaned with a husky and lingering purr, making him smiled a devilish grin. “You’re mine now, golden nightingale. To do anything with that I crave to do. Say it,” he commanded.

“I’m yours,” she exclaimed. “Anything!”

“That’s good, sweet sugar lass, because I’m baring this pink pearl of yours here to touch my tongue to.”

“Oh, Donan!”

“Aye and lick, Analise. I’m going to lick you back and forth.”

Analise squirmed with no place to go. “Donan-Donan,” she moaned.

“And suckle on it with my lips, my sweet-sweet lass,” Donan murmured, building the anticipation, holding her perfect treasure open to his torrid gaze; a swollen ruby of passion.

“
Please
, beloved,” Analise moaned lustily. “Touch me!”

“Here?” Donan nibbled the inner crease of her thigh, tasting the nightingale mark with his tongue.

“Yes!”

Donan licked and nibbled Analise’s quivering flesh, ignoring her honeyed pussy, spread open beside where he played. “Are you sure it’s here you want it, lass?” He teased her mercilessly. Ah God in heaven, he could love this woman until the end of his days.

“Oh, Donan, closer!” she cried, now trying to arch her rosy wet pussy toward him.

“Closer where, sweet love? Here?” He nuzzled her silky woman’s curls, feeling them tickle his nose and chin as he began to pray for days and days to play with his beautiful woman.

“
Oh
, lower please–please, Donan!” she begged.

“Here?” He dipped a nuzzle lower that tantalized him lustily, and sent Analise to moaning and shuddering.

“My pussy!” she squealed, and thereby surprising him to no end. It seemed while he could try to stir desire in his little imp with words, she could completely inflame his desire with but one word.

“God, Analise,” he growled, lowering his mouth to where he’d promise, and then he tasted his sweet sugar lass.

“
Oh
blessed angels,” Analise moaned, arching her hips upward.

She’d never envisioned anything like this. The wrenching and exquisite ache was tightening inside her. The ache was straining upward, until all she could manage was to gasp over and over. Each fiery grazing of Donan’s tongue over the throbbing pearl of flesh he’d unearthed deep inside her pussy coiled her body tauter, until all she could see beneath her clenched eyelids were fairy lights. There were rainbows and sparkles and so-so much pleasure, she could never have dreamed of such beauty.

“Donan-Donan!” she mewled incoherently.

He tugged her closer, spreading her thighs wider over the blocked brawn of his shoulders. His mouth began to suckle her pearl with a beating rhythm, while one of his wide hands kneaded one of her heaving breasts, and his other hand touched her center.

“Oh-oh!”

Donan slid his fingers out of Analise’s creamy tight sheath, then he skidded his fingers back up inside her again making her throbbing pussy arch into his mouth. He could feel the beginnings of her climax as molten fire around his plunging fingers. He could feel it beating against the flat of his tongue, until his entire body was straining with her, willing her over the edge.

When she climaxed it was with liquid ripples, while crying, “Beloved!”

Donan held Analise tight feeling every precious quiver, offering his protection in her abandonment, until she fell limply into his arms and he rested his cheek on her still shivering belly. He didn't try to hide his few tears this time. She had given him something so profound. She'd made him a man again.

“
Swear,
Analise. Swear to me you’ll never walk away from me, for I cannot walk after you.”

“I swear, Donan. I swear!” she cried, just as she wiggled downward, until she could fetch kisses over his face as if sealing her bargain. Then she sighed happily, snuggling closer to him with her eyelids falling closed, and she fell into a well-satisfied sounding and exhausted sleep.

Chapter Ten

Cheval jerked awake on her lone cot in one of the Abbey’s novice's cell, when a wide rough hand suddenly covered her mouth. Before she could think clearly, she felt the frightening heat of a large presence behind her and her mind leaped with terror. Red Kife! She tried to scream, grasping her hands frantically around her pregnant belly, thinking with terror about her baby’s life.

“I’d
not
harm you. I'm a friend,” the voice hissed near Cheval’s ear.

It caused her to cry out at its sudden existence, but also because of the husky masculine voice accented with a Scottish brogue. It wasn’t Red Kife, she thought, trying with shaking limbs, to understanding the apparition’s presence, which was harder to do because of the spike of terror running through her.

She whimpered with fear and pleading sounds, while feeling the crushing heat of a large shape bent over her small cot.

“Och, lass, I’ve no desire to scare you as badly as this, but I couldn't wait for daylight. Not after seeing that great red brute on the ride here. We’ve no time!”

Cheval did scream then, behind the man’s strong hand, because there was no terror greater to her than the horror of Red Kife!

“Lass-lass, please,” Shancy pleaded, as he tried to still the thrashing bundle of woman beneath him without harming her.

Bloody hell, he shouldn't have mentioned that red beast to the wee lass. Where was his gilded tongue when he needed it the most? Then, he finally got some sense, but not before he’d had to lay his entire body over the struggling and frightened woman. What must she think now? He was afraid to imagine, as he fairly bellowed, “Analise!”

Cheval’s body stilled beneath him with a quiver. Lord, she must have the most generous bosom he’d ever—

“I know you’re not, Analise,” he said quickly, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. “But she sent me, lass. She is very worried about you, and I’m to take you to where she is.”

Shancy could feel warm tears on his hand and he berated himself seven ways to heaven for handling it so badly. The poor woman was pregnant, by God, and he could feel how fragilely built she was. Petite, yes, but with lush curves. She must fairly resemble Analise.

“You’ll not scream, if I take my hand away?” he asked finally.

He was tensely aware of how little time they had; he’d been not but a mile or two ahead of Red Kife and his company of men coming down the main road leading to the Abbey.

The small head beneath his hand jerked a nod, which he took to mean yes, so he gratefully lifted his hand.

Cheval screamed and brought her hands swinging up with the intent of scratching her assailant, instantly hearing the surprised grunt of pain when she made scraping contact. Quickly, she tried to roll to the other side of the pallet, but a large hand tangled in the sleeve of her nightshift. She wrenched free, hearing her nightshift ripping, and then felt it falling off her shoulder.

“Balls!” the brute man cursed at her attack.

“Oh lord,” Cheval sobbed, clasping both hands with splayed fingers over her mouth as she tried to find the entryway. She could hear her assailant muttering between a few inhaling grunts, and she could actually see a dim outline of his tall shape in the dark

Suddenly, she bumped into the door and she jerked around to push on it, expecting it to give with her frantic heaving. But it was bolted. From the outside!

“No,” she whimpered, wildly tugging on it, as her heartbeat pounded in her chest.

“
No
, Cheval, dinna alert them!”

Shancy raced toward the bewitching fall of blond hair he could just make out by the door. Saints be damned, he had no choice but to use a wee bit of force. Cheval struggled against it, for one so petite, but she had no hope of winning against his strength. It was a sorry bit of work he knew, imprisoning her with his greater strength, but when he heard the distant clumping of many heavy feet, he knew he’d been left no choice.

“Och, nightingale, if you ever had just a glimmer of trust in anything I’ve said. Hold on to it now!” Shancy exclaimed, swinging Cheval up into his arms as he went to the window.

He used one hand to lift the bar, and then he flung open the wooden-planked shutters. Swiftly, he leaped to the ledge, and then he jumped to the ground a short distance on the other side.

“Put your arms around my neck now, lass,” he ordered gruffly, looking down at Cheval, knowing she could see him more clearly now as he could see her. “I’d not hurt the babe by carrying you over my shoulder, so you must hold onto me.”

Shancy heard the oak door, inside the Abbey room they had just left, crash open behind them, and he turned his head at the sound.

“Bloody hell, I’ll not let that beast have you. I swear it! Hold tight, lass.”

Out of the pitch-black and rain swollen night a harsh male voice bellowed from the Abbey window they were racing away from. “Where’s me slut! Cheval!”

Cheval nearly strangled him then, and Shancy could only hope the red bastard had not left many of his knights outside.

“Tis night, lass, and we will lose them quickly once I reach my mare,” Shancy exclaimed, through labored breaths.

The rain started pounding heavily several minutes later, beneath Shancy’s steady curses because Cheval only wore a thin shift, which was drenched in moments and clinging to her skin. However, when he reached his mare and he set her astride its back, he thought better of his cursing, because the rain would aid their escape.

Then when he swung up behind Cheval and reached around her to grasp the reins.

They both heard Red Kife bellowing in the distance.—“Find my slut, now!”

“Mercy!” Cheval cried, just as Shancy kicked his mare into a forward gallop.

Just minutes later, Shancy turned his mare into a burn, and then he brought the animal up shortly.

“Whoa, lass,” he warned, quickly grasping Cheval above her pregnant waist, before she could stumble down off the mare's back and attempt to flee. “You have trusted me this far, colleen, just trust me a bit further,” Shancy implored into Cheval’s ear, while holding her tight to his chest.

“But they will catch us!” she cried, clutching at his forearm.

“It is a moonless night and raining, my lady. If we’re quiet enough, they will pass us by,” he said, speaking lowly.

Shancy wouldn't tell Lady Cheval they would have no hope to outrun the advancing men riding double as they were. It would only frighten her further for no use. He just prayed his gamble would work. The red knight was brash, and he would not think they’d try to hide as quickly into the chase.

It was at that moment the sound of their pursuers was carried to them on the cold night air, causing Cheval to cry out in fear, turning to clutch her slender arms around his neck. Shancy quickly wrapped her beneath the folds of his woolen tartan, making what he hoped was soothing sounds deep in his throat.

Her lips were pouted and dry where they touched his neck as she breathed sharply in and out, while he scrubbed her scalp, trying to calm her. The pounding hoofs of the stallions drew abreast of their hiding place, and Shancy held his breathing steady.

He already knew he would fight to his death, for the wee lass he held onto so tightly. Without realizing he’d done it, he released a harsh breath he'd been holding at the last moment when he heard the stallions continue to pass them by.

He didn't know how long it was before he’d realized that Lady Cheval was kissing his neck, then his jaw, and next she urgently clasped his face to pull his lips down over hers.

Och Sainted Mary
, then he became quickly aware at the stunning turn of events. Instinct drove his lips around Cheval’s frantically searching mouth, and he used the force of his mouth to slow her urgency and kiss her more slowly.

“You saved me!” she cried against his lips. “Please I beg you, do not let them take me.”

“Never,” he hissed, releasing her lips.

But imprudently she rose and caught his mouth again. It was the last thing he expected, but her desires were tangible, and even the strength of his honor couldn’t make him release the passion of her persistent lips, which were so soft and tantalizing against his mouth.

She kissed him as her savior. She was willing and open to his rising desire, and when her nimble tongue stroked along his tongue, a groan escaped from deep in his chest.

Savior, master, mine:
those were the desirous and fragmented thoughts that swept through Cheval, as the warrior lord who had saved her, took her tongue deep into his tantalizing mouth. It was oblivion, the sweetest and most heavenly distraction from fear that she could imagine. She squirmed closer to him ... wanting—needing more—so much more of the heady oblivion he offered.