Captured by the Pirate Laird

CHAPTER Twenty-nine





By the time Calum and Anne arrived at the great hall, the fighting had ended. The cold from his wet clothing chilled Calum to the bone and he’d begun to feel ever cut and bruise he’d acquired this night. The others would be sore and freezing as well. Rorie and his men had started to cleaning up the carnage. Calum didn’t want to release Anne from his grasp, but he set her down to meet her new friend.


Anne made the introductions. “Rorie found me half starved, hiding in his burnt out keep.”

The older Scot shrugged. “I couldna just leave her there and the lass was hell bent on finding ye—Could speak of nothing else.”

Calum examined Anne, his expression dubious. “Ye escaped on yer own?”

Shivering, she still blushed. “Yes.”

Calum stepped forward and shook Rorie’s hand. “Thank you, Douglas. Ye’ll find food in the kitchen and there’s plenty of room to bed down along with fresh hay in the stable loft.”

Calum gazed at Anne who stood with her back to the wall, shivering, her cotton shirt plastered to her body. If her breasts had not been bound, she would have appeared completely naked under the thin cloth.

He reached for her hand. “Ye must slip out of yer wet clothes.”

“There is so much work to be done. We’ve got to put the hall back to rights.”

“Aye, and it will still be here on the morrow. We’re all tired, lass.”

Calum lifted her into his arms and climbed the stairs to his chamber—the laird’s chamber still filled with her trunks. He turned the lock in the door and gently set her on the chair. “I’ll light the fire to warm yer bones.”

Anne nodded, her teeth chattering. When the flames from the peat leapt to life, Calum turned and faced her. Her lips blue, she sat with a distant look, clutching her arms against her body. He reached for her hands. “Come here.” He pulled her up, wrapped her in his embrace and rubbed the cold from her shoulders.

“I feel like I’ve been punched right in my stomach.”

“I ken, lass.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. “Ye’ve had a terrible ordeal.”

Anne took a step back, steepled her hands to her lips and closed her eyes. Calum stepped toward her, but she dropped to her knees.

“Anne?”

“No. Stay where you are.” Her face strained against a grimacing pain. Was she injured? Calum took another step, but Anne held up her hand. She raised her long lashes revealing fathomless tormented pools of blue. Calum fought his urge to scoop her into his arms. Twice she’d told him to stay back.

“What is it, my love?”

Anne furrowed her brow. “Love?”

Calum reached out his arms.

Anne shook her head and crossed her hands over her chest. Tears burst from her anguished eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “I must first beg for your forgiveness, my lord.”

Calum stared. She wanted him to forgive her? For what? She crouched into a ball and held her hands to her face, wailing and rocking as if life was ending. Calum dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. “Anne. There is nothing to forgive.”

“I gave away the keep.”

“Ye did it to save me.”

“I saw the venom in your eyes. I-I never meant to bring war to Raasay. I-it’s all m-my fault.” She curled tighter into her ball, her anguished cries wracking her slim frame.

Calum scooped her into his arms and pulled her into his lap. “I forgive ye, Anne. I love ye with all my heart and soul. I would have done the same thing if it had been you.”

Every sinew in her body tensed and she muffled her wails against his chest as she leaned into him. Her warm tears dribbled down his skin and he held her tighter, rocking gently. Calum’s heart wrenched with her pain. He pressed his lips against her forehead and squeezed his eyes shut—rocking.

The tension of her body eased and her sobbing ebbed into staccato breaths. The peat fire began to warm them.

“The English would have come sooner or later, Anne.” He raised her chin with his finger. His lips wandered across her forehead, her eyelids, her cheekbones, her chin. “Did ye hear me? I love ye.”

Calum closed his eyes and covered her lips with his. Gently, he teased open her silken mouth. He took his time—every gesture long, slow, deliberate. He wanted her to feel the love that had tortured him day and night since first time he laid eyes on her.

As he pulled away, her eyes opened wide and filled with wonder. “I love you too. With all my heart.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. “I-I jumped out the window at Carlisle. I had to find you. Rorie helped me…”

Calum put his finger to her lips. “Ye can tell me all about it in the morning. But first we need to get ye dry.”

They stood, and Calum took a moment to light every candle in the room. This time he wanted nothing left to his imagination.

Moving before her, he grasped the hem of her shirt. “May I?”

Anne held her arms over her head.

Calum peeled the wet cloth from her body and cast it aside. He tried not to ogle the creamy skin of her naked belly, glowing amber in the firelight. Kneeling down, he removed her boots and stockings. He craned his neck, met her gaze and then stood and placed his hand on the edge of the cloth that bound her breasts. Anne shuddered. Heat spread through his midriff.

“Are ye all right?” he asked.

Without a hint of fear in her eyes, she held her arms out to her sides.

Calum took her cue and unfastened the knot. Three times the cloth wrapped around her body. When all but the final layer remained, the pink buds of her breasts stretched against the linen. His mouth went dry and he pulled away the cloth.

Milky white, far more beautiful in the candlelight, her breasts sprang from the bindings and stood proud. Her nipples pointed at him, demanding he suckle them. He cupped his hands over her breasts and looked to her eyes for her consent. Her tongue slipped across her upper lip.

Calum’s cock strained against his kilt. He lowered his head and brushed his lips over the top of her breast. With feathery kisses, he took a pink bud in his mouth and teased it with his lips and teeth. With a guttural moan, Anne threw her head back and thrust her hips forward

“I’ve wanted this, wanted to love you like a woman loves a man. Fully.”

“And I you.” Calum teased her with his mouth until Anne’s grasped his head and brought him to her lips. She kissed him, her tongue searching his mouth as if desperately seeking something she could not find.

Calum matched her vigor and inhaled her sweet scent. Anne’s fingers fumbled with the laces on Calum’s shirt. He raised his head, ripped it over his head and cast it aside.

Anne gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. “My God. You have so many cuts. You’re still bleeding.”

He chuckled. He had no mortal wounds, and no wee scrape would keep him from his beloved this night. “Ye can tend me in the morning.”

Licking her lips, she nodded. He released his belt and it clattered to the floor, along with his kilt.

Anne sucked in a sharp inhale. “Oh, my...you are beautiful…it is…”

Calum’s manhood jutted from his loins, a testament of how deeply he loved her…how much he must have her in this moment. He stepped forward. “I’ll not hurt ye.”

Anne reached out her hands. “You are the most fascinating sight I have ever seen.” She stepped into him. “I want to touch you—show the depths of my love for you.”

Calum gave a slow nod and she wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked. His eyes rolled back and he groaned with pleasure—he knew he would not last long, not this time. He reached for her lithe hands and stopped her. “We must go slow. Me blood is too hot to toy with it much.”

When Anne fumbled with the laces on her trews, Calum interceded and pulled the leather thong. “Let me.” Anne watched him with her lips parted as he loosened the laces and slid the trews from her hips. He drew in a breath of air as they slid down far enough to reveal the blonde curls that protected her most intimate secrets. Blonde—he hadn’t seen her color in the dark.

Calum tried to breathe as the musky floral bouquet of her sex floated to him. A pearl of moisture wet the tip of his manhood and he shuddered. He stood and embraced her, pressing himself against her belly. Anne’s breasts brushed the cut Denton had sliced through his chest. Calum drew in a sharp breath. She pulled back. His red blood contrasted with her silken skin.

She gasped. “You’re hurt.”

“’Tis only a scratch.”

“I should tend it.”

“Ye have a lifetime to tend me, but now I need to bed you.”

Anne’s smile had no dimples this time. She looked like a woman filled with desire, determined to make her conquest. He lifted her with ease and placed her on the bed. Kneeling over her, his ran his tongue everywhere.

Anne’s slender hands ran across his skin, igniting a flame wherever they touched. “I want you to love me like a man loves a wife.”

Calum stared into her half-cast eyes. “It will hurt yer first time.” Something clicked in the back of his mind. She had been with Wharton—she may already have be…

“I want it. I want you.”

It didn’t matter. Wharton didn’t matter.

She licked her lips, looking at him as a woman gazes at her man, and yet wonder brightened her face. Her innocent eyes slipped to his cock and her breath stuttered. Yes. She remained pure. He would see to her pleasure first, make sure her sex wept for him. Calum placed his mouth over hers and kissed her, showed her how deeply his love stirred. He swirled his fingers around her breast and then trailed down past her navel and through those glorious blonde curls. She shuddered, her thighs quivering as he held his hand above the button he knew would send her wild.


“Open yer legs for me.” He ran his tongue along her neck, and she obeyed. He slipped his finger further and touched her. Anne arched and cried out. He watched her come undone. He slid his fingers down to her opening and pushed inside. His cock surged at her wetness. She was ready for him.

But he would not take her so quickly. He crouched on his knees and spread her legs wider. “I want to taste ye.”

Anne lifted her head, panting. “What?”

“Lie back and let me love you.”

Calum flicked out his tongue and Anne gasped. He swirled it around her tiny nub and slid his finger into her. She clasped his head and again arched her back. Her hips moved with his rhythm. Calum knew she was about to burst with her release. He closed his eyes and kept the pace, while his cock strained with a sizzling need to be inside her.

Anne wrapped her legs around his shoulders and cried out. She thrust her hips up against his tongue. Her body went rigid, everything wound taut followed by an earth-shattering gasp. Breathing as if she’d sprinted up a flight of stairs, Anne sank into the pillows, wonder spreading across her face.

She reached for him. “I never thought it could be better than the night in the wood.”

Calum rose to his knees and showed her his rock hard erection. “It will be even better, me love.”

Her lips parted as she stared at him. She reached out her hand and stroked him with silken fingers. “I want to please you. Show me how.”

“Lay back.”

Calum held himself up between her legs and kissed her. He brushed his cock along her exposed, swollen womanhood. She was so wet and hot, he nearly exploded. He indulged himself for a few moments, fondling her breasts and suckling her until her breathing sped and her hips swayed against him.

Back in control, he lowered his hips and moved his cock to her opening. “Are ye ready?”

Anne rubbed her hips against him and nodded. Her eyes darkened with love, her parted lips red with passion, he could wait no longer.

He slipped inside and held still, biting his lip.

“Calum.”

“Guide me in so I’ll not hurt ye.”

Anne sank her lithe fingers into his buttocks and pulled. She let out a sharp gasp and slid him down the length of her. Hot woman milked him, surrounded him, tight and wet. Anne strengthened her grip and moved her hips. Arching her back, her moans came rapid and swift, sending him into a maelstrom of driving need. Calum could hold back no more. He drove his cock into her again and again, the tight rippling of her inner walls taking him beyond the point of ecstasy. Throwing back his head, Calum roared with his release.

Anne’s hips met his thrusts. As Calum exploded, Anne arched up and cried out.

Panting, he rested on his elbows and gazed into the dark pools of her eyes, so clear, he could glimpse into her soul. “I love ye with every thread of my being.”

Anne caressed his face and drew his lips to hers. “I love you, Laird Calum MacLeod.”

Kissing her, Calum swore he would never again let her go. He wanted to hold her in his embrace and protect her forever. She was his.

***

The sliver of the morning sun glowed through the tiny window, and Anne ran her hand over the place where Calum slept, but was met with cold linens. She opened her eyes. The laird had risen. The fire in the hearth had been stoked, but she saw no sign of Calum.

She closed her eyes and the nightmare of the battle raged in her mind. She had nearly drowned, but an angel saved her. Calum. She hugged a pillow to her chest and rocked her hips. Their lovemaking only hours ago still lingered deep within her.

Calum loved her. She closed her eyes and focused on the euphoria blossoming in her breast. She loved him with every fiber of her being. She took in a deep breath. Never in her life had she imagined being with a man would be so deliciously wonderful. Calum satiated her needs on so many levels—levels she did not even know existed.

He had given her his fascinating body. Merely the sight of him naked sent shivers coursing across her skin. They had made love over and over until they both could no longer move. She wiggled her hips and sweet pain shot through her loins. Yes, she was tender, but that had no bearing on the love swelling in her heart.

With a long stretch, she sat up. The bedclothes dropped from her breasts and she realized she was naked. If only he were here—well possibly it was better he was not. A bit sore, she might have difficulty walking.

A voice echoed in through the window. She wrapped herself in her dressing gown and walked to it. Though still afloat, the Sea Dragon listed in the bay. Ruairi’s ship and The Golden Sun moored alongside it as waves slopped against their hulls, the water lit golden by the morning sun.

Bonfires burned on the beach. Calum worked beside his men, hauling dead sailors to the fire, the wind blowing the stench out to sea. But there was another line of dead where the beach met the grass. The women of the keep keened loudly, preparing their men for burial. The grief-stricken ululations screeched on the wind. Anne swallowed. So much destruction. Her own euphoria turned to ash. This would be a sad day indeed. She must help. Anne dashed to her trunk and pulled out a day dress. Holding it up, her gut squeezed. Her clothing was entirely inappropriate for Raasay.

“Milady?” Mara knocked at the door.

Anne welcomed her inside and Mara fell into her arms “’Tis such a relief ye are safe.”

“Oh, Mara, I’m so happy to see you. But…”

Mara knit her brows. “But what, milady?”

Anne hung her head. “But are you not angry with me? I-I feel like I’ve brought this destruction upon you—upon all of you.”

“Aye, we all thought that at first, but Calum made us realize the English would have come with or without ye.”

“Oh, Mara, I love you so. I want to help.” She held up her dress. “But not in this. Do you have a kirtle I can borrow until I can have some of my own made?”

“Aye, but first I need to tell ye some news.”

Mara ran her hand over her somewhat flat belly, and Anne beamed. “Are you?”

Mara’s face glowed with a healthy pink sheen. “With child. Aye.”

“Oh, my goodness, I’m so happy for you. When will the babe come?”

“Near Christmas. Me thinks I conceived the night Calum brought ye to Brochel.”





Amy Jarecki's books