Page 24 of Highlander’s Torn Bride

“They wanted to separate us.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s delusional,” she said, suddenly angry.

Alexander winced. It was the wrong time for her to show him that emotion. It was the wrong time for her to use the word he.

Whoever had been responsible for this, Margaret was familiar with him. Familiar enough to draw such a raw emotion from her. Scorn came to her easily. Cold displeasure came even easier than that. But anger like this? Anger that made her, even now, run her hands into her hair and mumble curses, that was not something he had seen from her before. And he didn’t like knowing that another man could make her behave in ways that he could not.

Alexander reached out and set his hand against her cheek, hoping to draw her to him so he could kiss her, so he could make her forget whoever it was that was on her mind now. But she gave a sudden yelp and pushed his hand away. Alexander let his hand hang in the air for a moment, too proud to let it fully retreat to his side, and too hurt to try and touch her again.

Margaret was still for a second. Then, she reached out, her hand moving slowly through the dark until she found his opposite hand and pressed it to her opposite cheek. It was cold under his fingers, though her breath was warm and tickled at his wrist.

“They hit my other cheek. Tis too sensitive to touch, I guess,” she said. “Otherwise, I would not have pushed you away, you ken.”

Alexander tried to pull his hand back, not liking the pity he heard in her voice, but Margaret’s hand was still pressed over his, keeping him against her.

“You ken that you are my husband, so you can touch me wherever you wish.”

Alexander stiffened in more ways than one, though he knew this wasn’t exactly the right mood for such an occasion. Yet, she was coming closer to him now, the hand that was not on his going to his shoulder and tracing lightly down the front of his shirt.

“Margaret,” he groaned, hoping she would stop this, while also hoping she wouldn’t. He still had so many questions for her, so many things he wanted to know. Things about what had happened that night, and things about her. But, as her hand continued down his jacket, reaching the leather of his belt, those questions suddenly seemed so insignificant.

Her hand moved along the belt until it reached his buckle, at which point Alexander felt a bit of his senses return.

“Margaret,” he said, snatching her hand away and gripping it tight in his own. “If you start this, I donna ken if I can stop this time.”

He froze when something soft brushed against his lips. Margaret pecked him softly before leaving a trail of kisses down and along his jaw, and then cutting back until she left one kiss on his Adam’s apple. Without moving away, so that every word was a warm touch on his neck, she said, “I do not want you to stop.”

Alexander looked down, trapping her lips against his own once more, but this time doing more than a soft brush of tender skin. When he opened his mouth against hers, she returned the gesture. It was like neither of them could press deep enough into the other, their tongues swirling and intertwining as they fought to overwhelm the other.

Alexander’s hands dropped to the stiff laces at her front and undid them with a practiced speed, pulling the kirtle away from her and shoving it off of her shoulders without much ceremony. Then he stopped and took a step back, leaving her hands hanging in the air where he had once been.

Even in the dim light, he could see her, marveling at every inch of her body. Her skin was tanner than most other women he knew at court, but there was still a pale clarity to it that caught the moonlight and seemed to give her a glow. All of her, from her arms, to her stomach, to her breasts, was firm, with a few lines of muscle tracing here and there. She did not have much curve to her, but Alexander still found his eyes tracing circles over her.

Margaret stood before him, as if shocked, for a few heartbeats before a blush formed that was so fierce as to change even the color of her chest. She crossed her arms over herself, trying to conceal herself from him. It was a fairly useless endeavor, for Alexander would find himself marveling at whatever she still left exposed to him.

“You’re the bonniest lass I’ve ever seen, Margaret,” he said, his voice low and betraying his longing.

“This hardly seems fair,” she said, shifting her arms again to try and cover more of herself.

Alexander smirked, reached up, and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it aside. He followed that by undoing his belt, and then a few buttons, dropping his kilt to the floor and stepping away from it. Now it was her turn to stare, and she seemed to be doing it without a bit of hesitation.

Alexander reached out and took her hands, easing them away from where she was trying to conceal herself, and bringing them to rest on his shoulders before he moved his hands to her waist.

Her breath hitched, and he could feel her pulse quicken under his touch. They hovered near each other for a few long moments, waiting for the other to finally succumb and close the gap. And, at some point, one of them did, but they went crashing into each other so quickly that Alexander couldn’t say who it was.

Alexander tipped her back, easing her down to the ground carefully, no part of them breaking contact as they went.

When she was on her back, Alexander broke their kiss and descended, eager to explore her, to feel all of her beneath his hands, beneath his lips. While he trailed kisses across her collarbone, his hands reached for her breasts, which were just large enough to fill his hands as he squeezed them, his thumb slipping back and forth across them while she released the first of what he hoped would be many moans.

His lips took the place of one of his hands, kissing and teasing her so that his hand was free to move lower. Alexander ran his fingers up along her thigh, teasing ever closer and closer to her center until she began to tremble, and he crossed the final distance. He moaned when he felt how ready she was for him, his finger slipping into her without a bit of resistance. As he touched her here, she gave a soft gasp.

He stopped his praise of her body and moved between her legs, unable to wait anymore. He feared that if he did anything more, if he just lay there and listened to the sounds of her cries, he would accidentally spill himself all over the ground.

“Are you ready, lass?” he asked, whispering softly in her ear, though he wouldn’t know what to do if she just now decided to reject him.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, widening her legs a bit for him.