Medieval Highlands 01 - Highland Vengeance (26 page)

The Magic Giant

“Fairies, black, grey, green, and white,

You moonshine revellers and shades of night,

You orphan heirs of fixed destiny,

Attend your office and your quality.”

Merry Wives of Windsor (Act V, Scene v)
“I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly;

a quarrel, but nothing wherefore.”

Othello (Act II, scene iii)

Two hours later, the dream returned. He could see and hear the bloody, violent scene, feel his mother’s fear, his father’s wrath, know both their thoughts, but could do naught to stop the mad fury being played out before him. He strove to cry out, but no sound came forth.

“Jamison, I beg you, do not do this thing!”
Nora MacLaurin shouted. Prone on the floor of her bedchamber, she fought to free herself from the death grip another of the men had on her arms. He yanked hard, nearly forcing them from their sockets. She screamed in agony.

Jamison Maclean, already on his knees between her splayed legs, bent forward and swung hard, slapping her still-too-lovely face with the back of his hand. The knight’s ring he wore opened her bottom lip, mixing her blood with that of the others’ on his skin.

Nora began to keen then.
“Please,”
she mewled, keeping her face turned away from the monster who had fathered her bairn. Without warning, the large, blood-encrusted hand of her captor covered her mouth and nose.

“Hold her down!”
Jamison instructed.
“Do not let this bitch’s claws at my face again!”
And then he swiftly unlaced his braies and lifted her legs high over his shoulders.

She attempted to kick him free, her cries muffled by the suffocating, calloused palm across her face.

“Aye, fight me—it makes the sport that much more gratifying!”
He rammed himself into her then, with bruising force, wanting to cause pain, not pleasure, to this faithless, beautiful woman who’d ruined his life.

Nora’s entire body went rigid.

Jamison relished her reaction to his dry entry.
“You shall have her next, lad,”
he promised the youngest of his men, who’d not got his chance with the young maid downstairs before she’d perished.

“Your father liked it not that I fucked you before his eyes, did he, sweeting?”
Jamison cruelly asked. He pushed deeper still, satisfied when she went rigid once again.
“But worry not, he’s dead now—lost his head and his manhood this day!”

Frantic now, she began to struggle with a force that would either free her or break her bones—she cared not which. Her only interest in that instant was to liberate herself from the beast that rutted between her legs.

Daniel tried to run to his mother, but he could not force his feet to move. He was there, but not there. Knowing what was to come, yet powerless to change it, he watched the vile scene as it continued to unfold.

Long minutes later, after the last man finished with her, his father leaned down and sliced her throat, wiping the dirk’s bloody blade on the hem of her torn, stained, gown.
“‘Tis the best way to stop a woman’s infernal bleating, I trow,”
he said.

The men laughed at their leader’s jest.

With the familiar heavy weight of fury and despair crushing his chest, Daniel grew desperate in his need to get to his father, to kill the beast that had cold-heartedly cut short the lives of those he held dear. Fighting his body’s torpor, he tried with greater force to propel himself forward into the scene.

*

Maryn woke with a start. Tortured, guttural sounds were coming from her husband’s throat.

The hearth fire offered the only light in the room, but ‘twas enough for her to see his face. She raised up on her elbow and looked down at him. “Daniel?” she said softly, worriedly. He did not answer her. She touched her hand to his face. It was dripping with sweat! And his entire frame was atremble. Alarmed now, she looked into his open, fear-glazed eyes, but there was no recognition in them. “Daniel! Daniel, wake up!” she said, and grabbing his shoulder, she shook it forcefully.

He bolted upright.

She squealed and fell away from him.

His chest heaved with his rapid intake of breath as he pressed the base of his palms against his eyes, but he said naught.

Maryn’s heart beat fiercely against her ribs. She placed a hand over it and raised the other to his back in a calming caress.

His voice was grim when he finally spoke. “Go back to sleep, Maryn,” he said. “I’m fine. I just had a bad dream; ‘tis over now.”

But Maryn was much too shaken to go back to sleep. Besides, she wanted to know what preyed on her husband’s mind so insidiously that he was visited by it in his slumber. “What on earth were you dreaming of?” she asked gently.

“‘Tis none of your concern,” he replied, his tone harsh. “Just…go back to sleep as I told you to do.” He jerked out of her grasp then, as if he could no longer bear her touch, and rolled out of bed. He hauled on only his tunic before storming out the door without another word to her.

Heartsick and thoroughly confused, stunned tears gathered in Maryn’s eyes. Daniel had hurt her deeply. And she had been so blissfully happy prior to his stinging words—his abrupt departure. What had made him turn so cold, so distant, toward her? Was it the dream that had affected him so? She wondered again at the content of it. The terror he’d been in prior to waking was proof enough that his slumber was haunted by foes, not friends. Her heartache at his churlish behavior eased, and in its place, sympathy grew.

But why would he not tell her of his terrors? Should a wife not share her husband’s burdens, whether they be physical or spiritual? She ached to help him find his ease, but knew he was in no mood now to suffer further questions from her.

She at last resolved to simply let time bring them closer. Surely, after they’d spent more nights like the one just past, he would learn to trust her with his deepest thoughts and feelings. She resolved to tear down his defenses with a loving hand. She smiled to herself at the thought. After all, was that not the truest way to slay a giant?

*

The morning sun shone through the cracks of the shuttered window, landing delicately on the creamy smooth skin of his beloved. Daniel had awakened only moments before and took this time to watch his wife as she slept. The need to make love to her pounded painfully between his thighs, memories of her cries of ecstasy echoing in his mind.

Last night, he’d come to the decision that the dream’s return was somehow connected to his ever-blossoming love for his wife and had returned to their chamber a mere hour after departing it. Fortunately, his wife had been sweetly sleeping, not awaiting his return to question him further on the reason for his upset.

Tho’ his hands itched to do so, he dared not touch her now, else his resolve would surely wither into dust. For the time being, he must be content to simply enjoy the view. She stirred and the blanket covering her naked breast fell away, revealing the roseate peak.

“Hmmmm,” she sighed, slowly coming awake.

He looked up from his fascination into her glowing, slumberous eyes. “Good morn, my love,” he croaked, his voice not yet awake.

A joyous smile broke across her countenance. Lifting her head from the pillow, she kissed him fully on the mouth and, wrapping her arms around him, brought him down to cover the top half of her. Daniel allowed the contact for a moment, unable to resist the temptation, but finally pulled away, knowing ‘twas too soon for anything further.

Rolling onto his side, Daniel propped his head in his hand and gazed at her as he reached behind himself and grasped the prize for which he blindly searched. He lifted it high above her abdomen and let it dangle, one end softly stroking her belly. “I believe this belongs to you.”

She let out a surprised gasp. “Your mother’s girdle!”

“Nay, ‘tis yours. You should have allowed your father to take it when he retrieved your other belongings; a gift once given and accepted is not meant to be returned.” The dark centers of her eyes grew large and her lips parted as he continued weaving the sensuous spell by allowing the girdle to puddle a bit between her hip bones, before trailing the remainder of the length of thin silver discs over the rise of her mons and along the crease between her lovely thighs. The contrast of the silver filigree against the dark bronze hair that covered her pubic area intoxicated his senses. “I’d like to see you in this once more.”

She nodded. Daniel lifted her bare hips and brought the girdle around them. He took his time closing the clasp, his fingers softly caressing the hot skin just above the hair that covered her pubic bone.

She shivered.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, as, with avid interest, he artfully arranged the ornament to his liking. The heat of her skin contrasted sharply with the coolness of the metal and goose bumps spread over her skin, making his mouth water for another taste of her. The need to fulfill her overrode all of his previous chaste plans and with barely a nod to the warning bells clanging in his head, he gave in to his desire. He dipped his head and suckled first one, and then the other of her hardened nipples before making a nibbling path down her torso to where the silver clasp lay cradled between her pelvic bones.

“Daniel!” She gasped, her stomach aquiver.

“Mmmm,” he moaned. He stroked his tongue along her skin, following the outline of the girdle. Spreading her thighs, he moved between them and rubbed his nose and mouth through the soft, humid hair he so admired, breathing deeply. “You smell like honeysuckle and sex. I know you’re tender, but I want to taste you,” he said before beginning his long siege and greedy feast.

She came within the first few strokes.

Gratified by his wife’s passionate nature, but not yet near satiated, he continued his assault, devoting his attentions to the crenelated lips and acutely sensitive hooded nub of her desire. Mindful of Maryn’s tender tissues, Daniel did not delve too deeply, instead, softly stroking his tongue along the entrance of her canal to drink eagerly of her love juices.

She came twice more, and Daniel was beginning a fourth sensual assault when she cried out breathlessly, “Nay, no more, I beg you. I’m too weak.”

Rolling to his back, he obliged his wife, though he was quickly becoming addicted to giving her orgasms. Unfortunately, it would be a while before he’d have another himself, as he now desired only to be fulfilled by her. Sighing, and knowing he’d played with fire that morn, he decided they’d best rise and start their day. “I’ve lain abed too long this morn. I must get to the training field.”

*

Maryn was still recovering from her husband’s sensual assault. She lay on her side facing him, but her eyes refused to open. “I wish you would forego your duties today. After all, last night
was
our much-delayed wedding night,” she said. “Will you not stay here with me instead—just for a while at least?

Tipping his head to his visibly throbbing manhood, he said, “There is naught I would like to do more, as you can see,” he said, “but I fear if I stay, you will be crippled for life by my manly attentions. Nay, the best course of action is for
your
tempting body to remain out of
my
wicked sight, at least until this eve. Now, do me the favor of clothing yourself before I renege on my good intentions.” With a sound pat on her behind he rolled her towards the side of the bed and forced her to rise.

Her wobbly legs would not support her weight. She lost her balance, falling ignominiously back on the bed.

He howled with mirth, so Maryn poked his steely abdomen with her elbow. “‘Tis entirely your fault, know you this well!”

Clearly more entertained by her outburst than remorseful, he laughed even louder and grabbed her by the waist, hauling her under him. Before she had time to react, he took both her wrists in one of his and held them high above her head while he tickled her ribs with the other. “Now you shall taste my swift reprisal for your offense, my lovely,” he said, his voice filled with evil mischief.

She screamed and tried to twist away from his devil-hands. “Daniel,” she gasped out between fits of giggles, “stop, or you shall make me wet myself!”

With a wicked grin he answered, “I shall stop when you tell me I am your master and that my wish is your command!”

“Nev-ha-ha-Never!”

When this only made him cackle with glee, she tried to buck him off of her and he went rigid, giving out a guttural groan. His erection surged against her, making her suddenly and keenly aware of the fact that he was now snugly cradled between her thighs. His hand stilled on her puffing rib cage, cradled just under her bosom, and before she knew his purpose, his thumb stroked one of the tight, sensitive peaks. The dark centers of his eyes grew large and his nostrils flared. “Daniel….” Her voice sounded shaky, unsure even to her own ears.

Jerking away and rolling onto his back, he threw his arm over his eyes. His breathing labored, he gritted his teeth and ground out, “Cover yourself, I beg you, while I still have strength enough to control my actions.”