Broken Highlander's Blood Oath (6 page)

BOOK: Broken Highlander's Blood Oath
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Shancy’s mouth clicked shut and his eyes grew more calculating as he slowly assessed the situation, then he probed, “It’s possible you cannot get up on Xavier, even though he’s trained to your voice.”

Donan shrugged his bare shoulders. “Aye, it’s probable. We shall see.”

“You’re doing this foolishness for a reason, Donan. I know you too well.” Then, Shancy smacked his forehead and his eyes narrowed, as he blurted, “It’s the lass! Something to do with her.”

“No more questions. Now be gone!” Donan held his mouth in a hard firm line with his gray eyes challenging Shancy.

“Bloody hell,” Shancy cursed, as he grabbed his mare's reins. “I’ll be close, you stubborn old goat. And you cannot make me do any different!”

Analise stirred in Donan’s arms and began to wake at Shancy’s last shouted words. Donan murmured to her so she would think the voice was his. He watched Shancy march away, and then mount his mare. Shancy was right about one thing, everything he did from that moment on was for Analise’s well-being and not his own.

Analise thought she was being held in Donan’s strong arms as he spoke words of caring to her with his deep rumbling voice. But when she reluctantly dragged herself from the drowsy cocoon of sleep, she was lying alone with Donan’s broad back to her as he pulled his dark tunic over his head.

“You’ll be needing to dress, lass. I need to piss and cannot manage it alone.”

The rough edge of Donan’s voice warned Analise things were changing and her stomach suddenly churned as if filled with craggy stones. She couldn’t see Donan’s face, but tension filled the air around them, cutting through the damp morning mist. She knew with mounting intuition that whatever she did next ... whatever she could think of to say, would bind them together or break them apart forever.

Oh her heart cried out,
she would not break them apart. Never that, she thought, as she prayed for guidance. Then as she hurried to dress, she was reminded about the opinions of other people, who all her life had labeled her simpleminded. Cheval vehemently denied it, but Analise knew it was true. She could feel it must be true, because many times she became confused. Her mind seemed to have more than one voice and her ideas seemed to cause others to look upon her strangely.

“Fairy dust for brains,” her mother had proclaimed to her. That same black haired and dark-eyed mother who had born two daughters that held no resemblance to her, even in the smallest detail. “Dull-witted as the crofter’s animals,” her stepfather had declared. And then there was Armand, who was too cruel to think about.

Analise finished pulling on her soft leather shoes over the woolen stockings warming her feet, as an idea formed. “They call me simpleminded,” she announced suddenly.

“What?” Donan twisted his head to see Analise, a look of disbelief on his face, but he was greeted with the sunshine of her smile. What was the imp speaking about now, he wondered, as he raised his dark brows in question.

“It’s true, everyone says I have no wits,” she declared, as she waved her hand in an encompassing gesture that stirred the air beneath his nose. “That is except for Cheval, of course. But that's because she loves me.”

Analise scooted closer to Donan on her knees and confided in a whisper, “I only tell you this so you will not get too much out of temper when you have to explain things to me.” Then her pretty nose scrunched upward and she patted his arm as if in sympathy, muttering, “Constantly.” The voice she used sounded as if she were mimicking someone else.

An older male,
Donan guessed, as he tried to digest what Analise was saying. He'd not thought her simpleminded at all. But of course to be honest he'd not been thinking much about her mind. Nay, it was impossible, his Analise was filled with a bit of romantic notion and very trusting, but she was not simple.

His plan to discourage Analise using the reality about the difficulties of being lame was going astray. He'd even forgotten his planned embarrassment of the first defensive move.

Until Analise blurted, “Now you must tell me exactly what to do, my lord, to help you to p-piss.” She looked so serious, Donan was at a loss for words, but she continued, saying, “Just remember that I get a bit confused sometimes.” Her words finished in a rush and with a light blush.

Donan regarded Analise for the longest time, trying to understand exactly what had happened. Yet all he knew was what should be the most embarrassing position for any man, was not that any longer. He cleared his throat.

“I’m thinking of using that brown clay jug thrown in the corner there, if you will fetch it for me, imp.”

The truth of the matter was he couldn't do it on his own and Analise needed to see that— to see his reality. So he gathered his resolve about him once again, deciding he would go further than necessary just to make his point. He had an unexplainable need for Analise to see and understand the reality that was his life.

So when she returned with the jug, he immediately set it aside, saying, “You’ll have to help me with these leggings. I cannot get them untied.” That was a foolish bit of lying, but he was determined.

“U-Untied?” she stuttered slightly, looking down at the ties over his groin.

“To free my cock, so I can piss into the jug.” He grimaced.

“Oh, but still—” She peeked up at him.

He strove on. “Lass, I’m a man, certainly you have seen what a man carries between his legs.”

“A cock,” she whispered. “Yes.” Then, a determined look stole over her delicate face, as she reached down. “Must I untie them all?”

“Nay, lass, my leggings are special made, just the four ties in the middle.”

Analise suddenly felt flushed as she gingerly untied the ties, while her fingertips brushed a solid impression beneath. Saints, it was an awful memory, but she'd even seen Armand’s pale and thin shaft on more occasions than she wanted to remember.

That unwanted thought caused her belly to clench in anxiety. What if she felt the same about Donan’s cock? Then she immediately worried that it would repulse her, causing her a moment later to quickly put a joyful smile on her lips. That forced smile was for Donan’s well-being as she fumbled, trying to open the flap.

Donan watched Analise’s face and he was caught in the fact that she looked as if she were about to joyously unwrap a Michaelmas gift. He kept his body still, trying to find the feelings that should be terribly embarrassing, yet he felt nothing like that at all.

He was trying to piss, by God, and he shamefully needed his woman to help him. It was not absolutely true that he needed assistance, but the helpless and emasculating act should feel humiliating and not bloody erotic and carnal.
His woman?
Where the bloody hell had that thought come from?

“Oh, Donan, your cock
is
beautiful!”

Analise’s spirited exclamation brought Donan’s gaze down to his flaccid shaft curled over his thigh. Bared and limp for all to see. It was then the miracle occurred. He’d never expected it again in his life and was stunned when she grasped his cock in her small hands.

Christ’s blood,
his cock responded instantly and it had nothing to do with pissing.

“Oh, Donan.” Analise’s voice was feminine and husky as she held his stiffening erection in her palms.

Donan tried to clear his throat. To somehow get back on the path of his plan, which was leaping wildly astray once again. But of course the lusty male rising in him was too riveted to the feel of Analise’s soft hand holding his hardening shaft. How the hell was a man supposed to think?

A flush swept to Analise’s breasts, aching in the tips of her nipples, then down to her belly and lower, as she gazed at Donan’s cock. It was large and long, at first slack, yet when she'd bravely reached out to grasp it, it immediately began to grow in her hand. She gasped, feeling giddy and aroused. She began a downward slide with her hand, watching the velvety skin move to uncover the silken head. The thickening heat of the shaft throbbed on her palm.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, imp?” Donan asked, through his clenched teeth.

He'd never expected Analise to be so forthright as to lay her hands on his cock and he watched fascinated as her small hands circled his shaft. The moment she'd touched it, she moaned slightly and he could feel his erection throbbing as she brought the jug to the head and was barely able to push it inside the small opening.

Biting down harder on his teeth, he managed to suppress a groan as Analise, who looked flushed, quite seriously asked, “Am I doing it wrong, my lord?”

“Nay, sweet imp, you are doing it very well, exactly right and I’ll thank you kindly when I’m finished if you would shake it a bit for me.”
Stroke it
was what he was really thinking ... and praying for. Gone astray, was not the words for his collapsing plan.

“Whatever for?” Analise asked as her fingers caressed his shaft, causing him to tense.

“It’s a man’s act.” It was all Donan could answer, as he tried to keep his lips from pulling into a lustful grimace that was nothing less than pure pleasure. His erection had other ideas as it twitched and pulsed.

Now was the most difficult part as he tried to piss through his erection's pulsating lust. He finally managed it and he wouldn't believe it, were he not living it, but even the act of pissing with Analise’s wee hands trying to circle his shaft was carnal.

It took all of his willpower to leave his plan and not let Analise shake him off and do even more. As he wondered mightily if she would do more? Nay! He was lame and she was free. He’d not take advantage of her even though he knew he could. And she’d offered so freely. He had to make her understand. It was the only honorable thing to be doing.

At times he despised honor, yet it was a large part of who he was and had always been. This time his plan had gone astray, but the next time this morning she had to help him, it would be glaring back at her in a long line of things Analise would have to do to help him.

“Aye, lass, I can finish the rest,” he muttered, grasping his erection from Analise’s too eager hands. “You take the jug and empty it, and then bring back some water, using the hide pouch on my saddle.”

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

Analise was very happy, she'd been able to help Donan that morning with everything, until they came to his stallion. That was the helping Donan up on his stallion part to be exact, which she now viewed as impossible. Besides helping Donan relieve himself she'd helped him wash, comb his hair, and scrape the bristle from his face with only one nick.

They’d eaten some bread and cheese that he’d carried in his pack, and he'd even managed to nearly smile once or twice, chiseling his dark good looks to even further handsomeness, which made her sigh, while feeling those tingles again.

Only now ...
now, it was all for naught because she was confused and twice as afraid to let Donan see how dim-witted she was.

Donan watched Analise twist her fingers together as if she was nervous, while she unconsciously hummed a hauntingly familiar tune. Despite his attempt to force her to accept the hardships of his life, through all the small indignities and the large obstacles, she had surprised him by aiding him in every way with a beautiful smile.

Throughout the morning she'd seemed determined to prove herself, and he was fast losing his desire to distress her with his handicap. Yet now she'd suddenly changed and become nervous.

It was his stallion, he was sure of it. Everything had been fair, until he'd explained to Analise how he intended to get up on Xavier’s back. She stood before him quite obviously worried. Her delicate eyebrows were furrowed, while the depth of blue in her eyes held a lost look that seemed nearly fearful.

“Little nightingale, come here,” he said with a gentle voice.

Analise’s gaze cleared, but then she hung her head and fastened her eyes on her toes, beginning to speak slowly, “My papa used to call us that. His two little nightingales, he would say.” She took two hesitant steps forward, peeking at him from beneath her golden lashes. “I mean our real father. His hair was the color of sunflower petals. He would laugh ... I remember the rumble in my ear when he held me and laughed.” Two more steps and she was standing next to his outstretched legs, near his knees. “He told me it was all right to be afraid of his horse and he was certain with time I would grow surer of myself and cease being afraid. Only papa could never have known about Armand.”

Donan clasped Analise’s wrist and pulled gently, until she floated down onto his lap as he tried to divine the meaning of her hesitant confession. He had inklings, but for the moment he cared more to just hold her. Aye, he wanted to hold her until she no longer looked so lost or fearful. But at the same time he had to admit to himself his plan wasn't going to work. He was going to have to help her and she was going to have to help him.

Analise was a gentle lady who'd been forced to witness the harsh cruelty of men, and yet she remained true to her own sense of honor. Donan thought not many maids would have been able to withstand those torments, and yet Analise retained the essence of her true upbringing. It tore at his heart as he listened to her confession that she feared horses. A fear compounded by that bastard Armand.

BOOK: Broken Highlander's Blood Oath
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