Page 63 of Wicked Highland Wishes
As much as he’d dearly love to take her again, they had to leave. The king would be departing tomorrow morning, and Lachlan needed to speak with him, Iain, and Alex. And he needed to try to speak to Graham. Though he was certain the effort would be pointless, he still had to try. Yet, with all of that pressing down upon his mind, he could not resist a little mischief. He pulled his plaid down to expose one of her perfectly round breasts. Her rosy nipple hardened instantly with the cool air, and his desire grew hotter. He bent his head to her breast and ran his tongue in a slow circle meant simply to tease her, but he found his own blood humming with need. God’s bones! He started to pull away when her hand clamped the back of his head and her eyes flew open to display a wicked gleam that made him growl.
A slow, seductive grin came to her lips. “Dunnae ever tease me, Lachlan MacLeod. If ye put yer lips to my breast, ye best mean to bring me pleasure.”
Any notion of returning to the keep fled his mind as she slid his plaid all the way down her body to display her creamy curves. He raked his gaze over her breasts, her stomach, and then down her long legs before he dragged it back to her face. She arched her eyebrows at him. “Well, Lachlan, do ye mean to bring me pleasure or nae?”
“Are ye nae sore, lass?” he practically panted.
“Och. I’ll nae ever be too sore to have ye in me. Dunnae ever forget that.”
“I’ll be gentle,” he vowed.
“I dunnae want it gentle,” she teased.
A groan of need escaped him, as he slipped his hands under her bottom and hauled her hips upward. “I am but yer servant, Bridgette MacLean,” he growled as he entered her hot, welcoming body.
She grasped him by the shoulders and lifted her body until her lips brushed his ear. “I’ll nae let ye forget ye said that, Lachlan.”
As his desire took him and she met his frenzied rhythm with her own, he knew he’d gladly be whatever she wished if it meant every night could be spent like this.
“I’m sorry I made ye miss supper, lass,” Lachlan said as he and Bridgette entered the castle much later than he had intended.
She grinned at him. “I’m nae.”
The door to the great hall opened just then and Cameron started out, halting when he saw Lachlan and Bridgette. He smiled at them, and Lachlan felt a little of his tension release. He had wondered if his rift with Graham would affect his relationship with Cameron, and he hoped this open display of friendliness meant that it would not.
“Iain just sent me to find ye,” his youngest brother said. “The council is gathered in the great hall, including the king and his party. Iain wants ye in there now. He told me to haul ye here if I had to.” Cameron grinned. “Am I going to need to do so then?”
“Nay,” Lachlan said, smiling.
Cameron turned to Bridgette. “Iain thought I might find the two of ye together, as did I considering what I heard on the field today,” Cameron finished, offering a friendly grin.
At that, Lachlan felt the need to defend himself. “Cameron, I dunnae wish to hurt Graham. I—”
Cameron waved a hand in interruption. “Ye dunnae need to explain yerself to me, Lachlan. Ye have always been a true and honorable brother, and I dunnae now think ye’re nae.”
Lachlan nodded his head, relieved, even as Bridgette spoke. “Did Iain bid ye to find us in front of everyone? In front of Graham?”
“Och, nay. He pulled me aside to tell me.”
Bridgette looked to Lachlan, her eyes imploring him, and he understood. If they intended to proceed with caution, to try to change the seer’s prediction, then it would not do for Graham to constantly have to hear about them. “I’ll talk to Iain,” he assured her.
A baffled expression came to Cameron’s face. “I feel as if I dunnae ken something.”
With a sigh, Lachlan quickly told him about the seer’s prophecy. Cameron frowned. All the brothers had a strong belief in seers, but Cameron had developed a deep wariness when, not long ago, Eolande had told him something about his future that he refused to share with any of them.
“I think caution is verra wise,” he said in a grave tone. “Bridgette, Marion is in the solar with Lady Mortimer, and ye’re to join her by Iain’s command.”
Lachlan saw Bridgette’s jaw tense. He knew she’d much rather join the council meeting, given the way her mind worked, but the less she surmised about any impending trouble, the less likely she would be to get into trouble herself.
He gave her hand a hard squeeze, then released it. “I’ll come find ye when we’re finished.”
She nodded and quickly left.
Cameron put a hand out to still Lachlan when he turned toward the great hall. Lachlan raised his eyebrows in question.
“There is an odd tension in the room,” Cameron said, matter-of-fact. “Especially between the steward and the king.”
Lachlan nodded. “How much do ye ken?”
