Page 66 of The Pirate Laird's Hostage

‘Hush,’ she said, bringing a finger to his lips, ‘let us not talk and squabble. If you are to go away from me, I am come to give you a reason to return.’

Taking his face in cold hands, Morna kissed him deeply, her tongue gently seeking his as she pressed herself against him. She took hold of his shirt and lifted it over his head and then did the same to her kirtle, but slower, revealing her nakedness inch by inch. She flung it aside, and her hair fell down around her shoulders. Will knew full well what she was doing, but his cock stiffened of its own accord, and he moaned and grabbed onto her hips, ripe and round and smooth under his hands.

In the candlelight, she seemed like a dark angel, seductive, unbearably lovely, tempting him from the path he had chosen. Now, at the point of leaving her, Morna had never seemed so beautiful, all white skin against dark hair, her nipples tight, rosy buds of perfection as his tongue found them. She thrust her fingers into his hair and held his mouth to hers as she began to move over his cock - warm, moist womanhood, enslaving him, taking him as much as he was taking her.

Will’s hands followed a silken path from her hips to the slender indent of her waist. God, she had a body to tempt the most resilient of men, soft in places, firm where it mattered, open to him, ready for him, owning him. Will grasped her waist, so sweet and slender, and then downwards, cupping her bottom in his hands. He was not gentle and nor was she. His fingers dug into her soft flesh as she put her hand between his legs and took hold of him. Morna lifted herself up and eased his straining cock inside her, catching her breath and panting into his mouth.

How could he leave her? How could he forsake her bed and her body, so warm and welcoming, so right? Because he would never be worthy of it if he did not go. He must stay true to his purpose and leave in the morning as planned. Until then, he intended to give Morna something to remember him by.

As she moved, he felt need rise up in him, voracious, just on the point of pain. He wanted it to end, and he wanted it to go on forever.

‘Stop Morna, or this will all be over too quickly, for you light such a fire in my loins,’ he said, holding her mouth to his, as he buried his cock deep inside her and the pressure built.

‘It can’t be over soon, for I want this to last all night,’ she panted.

‘Little chance of that with the way you look on top of me, woman.’ His tongue found hers, invading her mouth.

Morna writhed against him in a sensuous rhythm, gasping as his fingers found the soft down of hair between her legs and burrowed further, to stroke her sweet cunny. She arched her back, moving faster and Will felt her tighten around him, pulling him, holding him, until he could delay no longer. His heart was hammering fit to burst.

‘I want you, Will. I want you to put a child in me,’ she whispered into the darkness. Will’s senses exploded into a violent, shuddering ecstasy, a mad explosion of pleasure as every single feeling in his body concentrated on that one part of him. He fell against her, trembling with emotion as she moaned and cried out and dug her fingers into his back.

Still entwined, Will rolled Morna gently onto her back. There were no words he could think of to say, so they lay together in the darkness as their breathing slowed, him stroking her hair and she snuggling her face into his chest as if she couldn’t get close enough.

What had happened to him? All his life making love had been anything but love, just a means to an end. He would get hard, seduce a woman into his bed with soft words, then take what he wanted from her body and leave, without a second thought. But this was nothing like taking. What he had just done with Morna felt only like giving, like passing on all his love, his pleasure, his soul, to someone else.

He had lost his reason for a while there, feeling invincible in a fog of love and lust. Now it all rushed back in, the leaving her, the hurting her, the danger to be faced. However hard it may be to go from Morna, he could not stay abed with his wife and hide from the world.

***

Will threw his pack onto the deck, and it landed with a thump. The dawn was washing the distant horizon with streaks of pink. The rising winds would carry them swiftly around the island to meet with his other ships and then on to the mainland. From there it would be a case of procuring horses and riding to Berwick. Hopefully, the English siege engines would not yet have a strangle-hold on the town.

‘Hurry men, we need to catch the breeze, and I want to be gone,’ he shouted as the last of the provisions were stowed below.

He turned to take a look at Fitheach, perhaps his last and watched in dismay as Morna made her way along the rocks towards him. Will went to meet her so that his men would not overhear them.

‘So, you are sneaking away in the wee hours?’ she said, knuckles white where she clutched her mantle around her.’

‘I did not want to make this difficult for either of us.’

‘After last night you just got up and left?’

‘To lie with you like that was a beautiful thing, Morna and, if I die tomorrow, I will go to my grave feeling blessed because of it, but you must have known you could not seduce me into staying. That was not fair of you.’

‘And what is fair, this, you going to your doom? Will, I love you, so there is nothing I won’t do or say to keep you from going. I’ll even beg. Watch me.’

To his horror, she got down on her knees on the jagged rocks and clasped her hands before her.

‘Get up Morna, don’t do this, not in front of the men.’

‘I am begging you, Will, with everything I have, to change your mind and save your life and mine too, for I will die without you. My pride is yours, my heart is yours, I cannot lose you. Please.’

He grabbed her and hauled her to her feet. ‘You are a Buchanan, Morna. Do not beg.’

There were tears in her eyes. ‘I am a Buchanan no longer, I am a Bain now and they are ruthless aren’t they, taking what they want by fair means or foul?’

‘The time to join Robert is now, Morna. We have this one chance to be on the right side or suffer, maybe not this year or the next, but one day. I have come to realise that a man who is so ruthless as to burn his own people for the sake of Scotland can also unite Scotland, for he far surpasses the English King in war-craft, villainy and resolve. I must be on the right side of such a man if I am to survive, and if the Bains are to survive, else I may see my life in ashes again.’

‘And what if I have a bairn in my belly? Should I tell your son that he is fatherless because you threw your life away on a lost cause?’

---