He found her heat, felt her silky warmth spread over the head of his shaft and with one push he was inside her. She gasped and arched into him, her belly trembling beneath his.
She was so tight around him, a fist gripping and squeezing, holding him so intimately that he began to unravel.
“Ah, lass, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Her hands trailed over his shoulders, her nails scraping at his flesh. He closed his eyes, knowing this wouldn’t last long at all.
“I seem to lose all control when I’m with you. This will be fast. I cannot hold back.”
“ ’Tis all right,” she whispered. “For I find I cannot hold back either.”
She lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist. It was too much for him to bear.
He thrust hard and already he felt himself letting go. Again he thrust, plunging mindlessly into her willing body. His seed purted forth and he kept driving, over and over, until her passage, so slick with his passion, released him.
Unwilling to deprive himself of her sweetness just yet, he tucked his shaft back to her opening and eased inward, riding the aftershocks as she trembled and spasmed around him.
He leaned forward, resting his weight on her while he remained inside her warm sheath. She was breathing hard, her puffs of air blowing over his neck and chest. Her body was tangled around his, arms and legs clutching him and holding him close as if she’d never let go.
He liked that. Aye, he liked it a lot.
Finally he rolled to the side but kept her limbs entwined with his. He wanted her a part of him. He liked the sight of her much smaller body secured by his. She was his.
She gave a lusty yawn and nuzzled into his chest. He knew she was asleep in a matter of moments, but he remained awake, liking the feel of so much feminine sweetness in his arms.
When he finally slept, he was careful to keep her as closely linked to him as possible.
The next day, Mairin busied herself with the women to prepare the noon meal while Ewan was occupied with Laird McDonald. The two men had gone hunting that morning, and much to Rionna’s displeasure, she’d been left out of the hunting party.
She sat in the hall dressed in man’s garb, a loose-fitting tunic swallowing the upper half of her body, looking bored and faintly terrified by all the bustling going on around her.
Rionna was a bit of a mystery to Mairin. She wanted to ask the lass about her apparent fascination with the duties of a man, but she was afraid of insulting the woman. Mairin had heard from Maddie that Laird McDonald sought to marry his daughter to Alaric to seal the alliance with the McCabe clan, and that in fact, the lairds were in talks of just such an arrangement.
Mairin pitied Rionna because she gained the distinct impression that Rionna had no desire to marry, and Mairin could only imagine Alaric’s reaction to the proposed arrangement.
What did the lass hope to accomplish by engaging in such shocking activities that obviously brought her father’s ire down on her?
And Alaric, surely he wouldn’t be accepting of his wife’s wish to engage in swordplay. Ewan would be appalled, and Alaric was no different in his thinking. All the McCabe brothers had firm ideas of a woman’s role, and it was definitely not the path that Rionna had chosen.
Rionna needed someone more … understanding, though Mairin couldn’t imagine any warrior allowing his wife the freedoms that Rionna apparently enjoyed.
Mairin shook her head and allowed Rionna to remain sprawled in one of the chairs to watch the goings-on around her.
“Is everything prepared?” Mairin asked Gertie as she entered the sweltering heat of the small cooking area.
“Aye, I’ve just taken the bread from down on hefire and the stew is simmering. As soon as the men return, I’ll begin putting out the food.”
Mairin thanked Gertie and then retraced her steps into the hall. A noise at the entrance told her that her husband had returned and she went to greet him.
She stood back, waiting for him to enter fully. He came in, Laird McDonald just behind him, with Caelen and Alaric bringing up the rear.
“Welcome home, husband. If you and the laird would take your seats at the table, the meal will be served.”
Ewan nodded his acknowledgment and she retreated to tell Gertie to begin the serving.
More of Ewan’s men filtered in, mixing with Laird McDonald’s soldiers. The three tables in the hall quickly filled up while the men who hadn’t gained seats waited at the entrance to the kitchen for their portion.
Unsure of any marriage arrangement since Ewan hadn’t seen fit to share Laird McDonald’s proposal with Mairin, she opted to seat Rionna beside her, with Laird McDonald across the table on Ewan’s other side. Alaric and Caelen would occupy the two seats next to Laird McDonald.
The meal was a loud, boisterous event as the morning’s hunt was recounted for all to hear. Food and serving dishes went everywhere and Mairin found herself confused at one point as to which goblet was hers. She reached for the goblet between Ewan and herself and took a sip to chase down her food.
She wrinkled her nose at the bitter taste and hoped that the entire batch of ale hadn’t gone bad. She set it aside so Ewan wouldn’t drink it and motioned for Gertie to bring the laird another cup in case it was indeed his.
Laird McDonald kept Ewan engaged in talks of border protection, increased patrols, and the plan to strengthen their alliances by talking with Douglas.
Mairin paid only partial attention to the chatter as she watched Rionna pick idly at her portion. She was wondering what topic she could engage the other woman in when a cramp rippled across her belly.
She frowned and put a hand to her abdomen. Had the food been bad? But surely it was too soon to feel the effects, and the meat was fresh, brought in just two days ago. She watched the others but saw no sign of discomfort. In fact, everyone dug into their food with seeming satisfaction for the taste.
She reached for the goblet that had replaced the bitter ale when another cramp viciously seized her stomach. She gasped for breath but the pain was so intense that she doubled over.
Another pain knifed through her, gripping her middle in an unrelenting knot. Her vision blurred and she felt a sudden urge to vomit.
She shot to her feet and in her haste, knocked over Ewan’s goblet. The liquid spilled over the table and into Ewan’s lap.
Ewan jerked his head from his conversation with McDonald, a frown marring his lips. She swayed and then doubled over, a cry escaping as fire twisted her innards.
Rionna jumped up and bent anxiously over Mairin, her face creased with concern. Around her, murmurs arose as everyone focused on their mistress and her obvious distress.
“Mairin!”
Ewan was on his feet, his hands reaching to steady her. She would have fallen had he not hauled her up against him. She went limp, her legs no longer able to sustain her weight.
“Mairin, what’s wrong?” Ewan demanded.
“Sick,” she gasped. “Oh God, Ewan, I think I’m dying. The pain.”
She sagged again and Ewan went down with her, easing her weight to the floor. Above her, Alaric’s worried face appeared.
“What the hell is going on, Ewan?” Alaric demanded. He shoved Rionna back and maintained a protective perimeter around Mairin.
And then she turned her head and retched all over the floor. The sound was awful even to her own ears, but it felt ten times worse.
It was as if she’d swallowed a million pieces of glass and they were shredding her insides.
She curled into a ball on the floor in so much pain that in a moment of weakness, she prayed for death.
“Nay!” Ewan roared. “You won’t die. I won’t allow it. Do you hear me, Mairin? I won’t allow it. You will obey me, goddamn it! For once you will obey!”
She whimpered as Ewan hauled her from the floor. She winced as his shouts rung in her ears. He yelled orders and the hall was alive with the sound of scrambling feet and answering exclamations.