Page 94 of Claimed by a Highlander
“Aye.” She barely got out the word before he hauled her up against him and crushed his mouth against hers.
The pent-up hunger of the last week exploded between them like grease on a hot fire. Their kisses were bruising, and his hands demanding as he backed her against the wall. When he lifted her off her feet, she clasped her legs around his hips. Her heart was racing, and her chest felt too tight to breathe. When she broke her mouth away, he sucked on the side of her neck. His hands were everywhere, prodding, kneading, squeezing.
At last. At last.She wanted him so much.
“I need to taste you.” He dropped to his knees and gripped her hips.
She gasped as he thrust his tongue over the sensitive nub between her legs. No slow build, no teasing caresses. He was relentless with his mouth and tongue, circling and sucking. She leaned her head back against the wall, swamped by the raw intensity of the sensations coursing through her body. When she did not think she could stand any more, he began thrusting his finger inside her while he continued his sensuous assault with his mouth and tongue.
Her release came with such force that her knees gave way. He gave her no time to recover. In one smooth motion, he rose to his feet, wrapped her legs around him, and thrust inside her. His mouth ravaged hers, and she dug her nails into his shoulders as the tension inside her quickly peaked again.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” She came in a rolling release as Rory pounded against her and spilled his seed on a last anguished cry.
It was over so quickly.
She was breathless and her heart pounded in her ears. After climaxes that left her weak and shaking, she could not say he had failed to satisfy her.
Yet when he pulled out of her, she felt bereft. There had not been one tender moment, not one whispered endearment. It was a physical act, the satisfying of a need, and it left her feeling hollow inside.
Rory had not spoken her name. She could have been anyone.
With no warning, she burst into tears. It was the last thing she wanted to do. When she tried to hide her face, Rory held her arms away.
He looked down at her with wild, feverish eyes. “Ye wanted it as much as I did. Ye came to me. Ye saidaye.”
“I want it like it was before,” she whispered, and touched his cheek. “I love you.”
“That’s not fair, Sybil. Lie to me about anything else, but not that.” He backed away from her, shaking his head. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”
***
Rory had been gone for days when a priest arrived at the castle leading a mule.
Sybil only knew where Rory had gone because Catriona told her he was taking her to Killin to retrieve something hidden in the barn and to get the local men started on rebuilding the house.
Sybil thought nothing of seeing the stranger in priestly robes at supper that evening. Churchmen were always welcomed and given provisions when they stopped at noble houses on their journeys. She felt too low to engage him in conversation, as she usually would.
Long after she had blown out her candles and gone to bed, there was a knock at her door. Her first thought was that something had happened to Rory, but when she flung the door open, the strange priest was there.
“I was sent to give this to you.” He spoke in Lowland Scots, the language of home, which she had not heard in weeks.
She took the folded parchment he handed her. When she turned it over and recognized the seal, her hand went to her throat.
She glanced up and down the dimly lit stairwell. “You’d best come inside while I read it.”
She quickly lit a candle, broke the seal, and unfolded the parchment. A second message was enclosed inside the first.
She glanced up at the messenger. “How did ye get this?”
“Your uncle is my bishop,” he said. “As soon as he learned where you were, he sent me to deliver it to you.”
Edinburgh
My dear niece,
Several weeks ago I received the enclosed message for you, along with a request to make the necessary arrangements. Word has just reached me that you have taken refuge at Castle Leod. The man who carries this missive will take you to Inverness to board a ship bound for Calais. I have sacrificed precious funds to arrange your passage so that you may join your brothers in France.
The signature at the bottom was indeed her uncle’s. She opened the second message that was enclosed in the first. Tears stung her eyes when she saw the familiar handwriting. While she was still angry with her brothers, she had not realized until this moment that she also missed them.
