Page 32 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

His lips left hers to press close to her ear and whisper, “I’m going to bring you pleasure, wife.”

His fingers moved like magic over her, causing the most remarkable sensations to run through her. She moaned against his neck while her hand gripped his shirt. She never knew such pleasure existed. Her mum had warned her to lie still and let her husband have his way with her, but she didn’t want to be still, she wanted to be part of it.

She gasped again when he drove his fingers deeper inside her and whatever his thumb was doing to her, she did not want it to stop.

She moaned, sighed, groaned, and felt pleasure like never before until she thought she would burst and she did, crying out as ripples of overwhelming pleasure shot through her, repeatedly.

Her breath skipped, her heart thudded, and never had she felt so satisfied.

Finally, when some sanity returned, she cast a glance up at him.

His green eyes were intense, his jaw tight. “You’re mine. Don’t ever forget it.” He closed his arms tight around her and stood, then he placed her down on her chair, walked to the door, and without turning, he said, “I sleep alone tonight.”

She stared at the closed door, unsure what to make of what had just past between them. It wasn’t until sensibility returned to her that she was able to give it more rational thought. There was only one possible conclusion to the intimacy they had just shared.

It hadn’t been her husband who brought her pleasure.

A light snowfallblanketed the hills, the white dusting soft against the green that announced winter had not officially arrived yet. The air had turned kinder for now, cold enough to carry breath on the wind but not biting. No new snow threatened, only the hush of the day as Torrance and Esme rode side by side toward Clan Rennoch.

Torrance sat tall upon his black stallion, the beast’s breath puffing in rhythmic clouds. Esme rode just to his left. She handled the reins with quiet confidence, her head held high, a thick fur-lined cloak falling from her shoulders in graceful folds.

Torrance hadn’t spoken much since leaving Clan Glencairn and neither had she. What could she say to him? Could she ask him… who was it who brought me such satisfying pleasure yesterday? Where is my husband? Though I rather he never returns home. Why do you play this game with me? What do you intend to do with me?

“Esme, do you not hear me?”

She shook her head, his sharp voice cutting through her musings. “I am sorry, my lord, my mind wanders.”

"Let it wander no more. You need to remain alert and remain close to me when we arrive," Torrance instructed, his tone firm. “If I must step away, one of my warriors will remain at your side.”

Esme looked at him alarmed. “You expect trouble?”

“I always expect trouble, so I am never left unprepared. Besides, I don’t trust Stuart,” he said, his voice flat as his gaze swept the distant village. “He smiles with one hand while drawing a blade with the other.”

That he shared that with her was another piece that filled in the puzzle since Torrance never shared such a talk with her.

Silence fell again, broken only by the movement of horses. Torrance meant to say no more, meant to keep his thoughts his own, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Wind caught the strands of her blonde hair, to sweep across her cheeks kissed pink from the cold, and her eyes, more watchful lately, now held a soft curiosity as she took in the village that came into sight. And her lips… he couldn’t look at her lips without thinking of last night and how satisfied he felt seeing and feeling the pleasure, he brought her. There was a beauty about her, not only in her face or her lush body, but her nature… kind, resilient, courageous.

He glanced at her. “You look lovely.”

The words had fallen unbidden from his lips like a confession carried on the wind.

Her head turned toward him slowly, eyes narrowing just slightly as if trying to decide whether to accept the compliment or question his sincerity. He didn’t offer clarification. He simply looked away, his jaw tight, as if the words hadn’t left his mouth at all.

Torrance silently berated himself for saying what he did. He could tell by her look that such words were unfamiliar to her, and she was puzzled by them. He should know better, yet she had touched him in a way he had never expected and if he wasn’t careful, he would ruin everything.

The gates of Clan Rennoch stood open, yet there was no sign of a welcoming party.

Torrance scowled seeing no sign of Chieftain Stuart.

A lone warrior approached as they entered the village, his posture stiff. He offered only a shallow nod. “Chieftain Stuart sends his welcome. He awaits you in the Great Hall.”

Torrance offered no reply, his silence more cutting than words. He urged his stallion forward, Esme following closely behind as their escort led them along the main path with six of Torrance’s warriors following behind. Villagers halted their tasks to watch, some bowing, others not bothering.

The Great Hall loomed, torches blazing at its entrance, warmth and merriment spilling from within. Inside, laughter rang out, music lifted in a lively rhythm, and the scent of roasted meat, sweet bread, and spiced wine thickened the air.

They were shown not to the high table, but to a long trestle near the side wall, barely more than a place of convenience. Torrance paused before sitting, his jaw clenched as he sent a quick glance toward the six warriors who stood behind him. It was a warning to stay alert.

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