Stolen By A Highlander (Scottish Pregnancy Romance) Read online

  “I have returned, as a free man. The one thing that we all have in common is our freedom. We will never give it up and if anybody tries to take it from us, they’ll find out in a hurry that we will fight to our last breath to keep it. I’ve brought with me a trophy, a woman of virtue and aristocratic wealth. I plan to bed her down and have my way with her, until I am planting my seed and the flag of Scotland.” His words were met with a flourish of applause. Those warriors that he led every single day were raising their swords into the air, as a sign of fidelity and loyalty. “I’m going to return to my home and I do not want to be disturbed for the rest of the evening.” There were giggles from the girls and I could tell that they knew exactly what I was in for.

  “I’m sorry, but I think this might be a bad idea. Maybe, it would be best that you take me home.”

  “She is home and the sooner that she accepts that the better off she will be. She speaks to me in forked tongue and I will have to cure her of that ailment.” The one thing I did notice was that the Scottish men wore their kilts with pride. There were a variety of colors, but I think that was only to differentiate themselves from the rest of the clan.

  “This is a little overwhelming.” For the first time in my life, I did not have the backing of the crowd. I didn’t have people stepping out of my way in a sign of respect. My confidence had waned and I shied away from those people in hopes that they would not recognize that I was there.

  “You are my people and you will always come first. This arrangement was made with all of you in mind. You have told me in your own way that you are not comfortable with the bloodshed. I have found a better way. She will be the bridge between our two people. Our child will have the privilege of being Scottish and English. Of course, we all know that the English are a greedy lot. We should destroy all of them and then start over again.” Once again, he got the crowd riled up. We ride tomorrow…it will be a good day to die.”

  Chapter four

  I hated the way that the people were looking at me. It felt like I had been thrown into an untenable situation. The girls especially were casting stones with their eyes towards me. If they had their way, they probably would’ve thrown real stones to get their point across.

  He helped me down from the horse at this stone building. The roof was made of sod and the entrance into the place was wide open. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pushed me down onto the makeshift bed made of only straw. He undid the strap of the kilt. It fell away from his muscular chest.

  “Elizabeth, I’m going to give you the honor of taking this off for me. Do not scoff, because it is a great honor and any woman that I deem worthy is proud to have that privilege bestowed upon them. I’m just kidding. I wanted to see how it felt to act like nobility. I don’t like it.” He took off his kilt and stood there leering with nothing on, but a smile. He looked down on me and I knew exactly what he wanted me to do. My hands were shaking, as I slowly wiggled free of the dress that was barely holding together, as it is. It was by sheer will alone and my hands that I was able to keep my nudity from those glaring eyes of all those that we had passed.

  I was naked and looking at his feet, when I felt his hand underneath my chin. He lifted it in his hand, so that I could see his impressive equipment. It was already leaking profusely and he grabbed my hand and placed it on his magnificent staff. I couldn’t help, but to admire it from every angle, knowing that he was going to allow me to suck it. I’d already had it inside me and my wet pussy was already begging for another introduction to the kind of loving that he could give me.

  “I have to make sure to put you in your place. Open that fucking mouth and let me see what good little English girls are all about.” He was being crass, but I found his lack of manners almost refreshing. He took what he wanted, be damn the consequences and never looked back. “I said open your mouth or I will have to do it for you.” I didn’t know what that would entail, but I had no interest to find out any time soon.

  He stepped a little closer and nudged my lips with his already moist knob. I circled my tongue around the huge mushroom shape. I took it slowly into my mouth, using my tongue and the eagerness and determination that I had to see him spew spur me onto a greater degree of depravity.

  “You will make a find wife. I will make sure to give you this every night. You will never want to stray, because I will always satisfy.” It was a bold claim to make and the way that he was touching the back of my throat had me wondering that maybe he was telling the truth. “Yes…take my Scottish sword. Make love to it and give me that sweet little mouth.” His words were hushed, but I think that he was just a little too overexcited. That was evident in the way that his knob was now brushing the entrance to my throat.

  He pulled out and brushed my lips with the cream that was clinging to the tip. I licked them clean and then I went down on him again. I was most content in getting him off with my mouth, but apparently he was only waiting for the right moment to fuck me again. This time, I wasn’t going to take him from behind. He pushed me down roughly and spread my legs with his hands holding on to my ankles.

  “I’m ready for you.” That was all that needed to be said, as he settled in between my thighs with his cock leading the charge of battle. “I don’t want you to be gentle. I don’t want you to be caring. I just want your fucking cock deep inside me like you did on top of that horse. I think you’ve made me want you more than I imagined that I would.”

  “I always thought that I was going to have to take you, but apparently that is exactly what you wanted. Le me be the first to give you exactly what you want, Elizabeth.” He hammered his long sword into the tightness of my body. I surrounded him in heat and drew him into me with the suction of my inner muscles working over time. “Fuck…you really are just a sex fiend that wants it all the time. You probably didn’t even know that yourself and I awakened that in you.” I didn’t know if I should curse his name or scream from the rooftops that he had freed me from a life of a mundane existence.

  He didn’t even give me a chance to adjust to those eight solid inches. They were unforgiving and never wavered and continued to command my body to do exactly what it wanted. My legs were still spread with his hands holding onto my ankles. They were rough and I could see that the gentle approach was not going to happen. It’s not what I wanted any way and I had told him that in no uncertain terms.

  He pulled me towards him and I felt him push past my resistance. I had no doubt about my place in his life. He showed me the kind of man that I was dealing with and I knew that he was nothing like those silly noble morons that thought that they could get into my pants by sweet talk. They could throw all the dinners and jewels at my feet and it would be nothing without the strong hand in sexual pleasure.

  “You started a fire that is turning into a blaze. I just hope that you know what you’re doing, Patrick.” He showed me his stamina and the way that he continually pushed me into the straw matting was something of a godlike quality. He didn’t seem to have the ability to cum on command. He needed the extra stimulation of my hand stroking his chest and pulling at the hairs to elicit the response of his shaft throbbing.

  “I believe that I can take care of that. Just keep up what you’re doing and I’m sure that you’ll be pleasantly surprised, Elizabeth.” His godlike qualities and the body of a man that would’ve put to shame most of the soldiers in the English army was now mine. He thought that he was holding me down, but if I really wanted to, I could’ve screamed bloody murder and put up quite a scene. “Fuck… I didn’t know that English women were such freaks.” His legs were fatigued and I could see that his breathing was hoarse.

  “That’s it…right fucking there…YESSSSS.” That orgasm made my body convulse and I looked like a fish out of water. My tongue was sticking out of my mouth and my mind was awash with these flashing lights that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

  “Elizabeth… I think this is yours… Damn it.” His cock was now giving in to that feeling and it didn’t matter if he
wanted to hold back or not. I was going to make him a shell of a man and then I would build him back up from the ground up. I could not allow my brother to get the best of me and I was glad that Patrick was willing and able to put him in his place. It did make me relax and enjoy the sweet release of endorphins. His seed was scorching hot and I could feel every single stream, as he let himself go finally.

  “It is mine and you’re giving me the one thing that I can’t get anywhere else.” His chest hair was matted with moisture and he was now lying on top of me still joined together at the hip. His cock was still inside, not ready to leave the comfort of my womanly embrace. He fell in my arms and I soon felt his retreating member taking its final bow. It left me with a permanent reminder in my mind and in my body. He was breathing in my ear and I was enjoying the aftermath of the moment. Touching myself, I could feel remnants of his sauce clinging to my lips.

  He didn’t see me do it, but I wiped it clean and I savored the taste. I was always about the finer things and a fine wine is not something that I am a stranger to. This was better than that and if I could bottle this taste, I could probably make a fortune. Women from every village would come calling for just one bottle and would give anything to have it. It was an interesting thought, but not very realistic, when I began to think about it.

  “If you’re thinking that I’m sleeping, then you are wrong. I’m just gathering myself and getting my second wind.” This made me think that he had designs on doing it again. I wasn’t sure if I was up to that, but with a man like Patrick, I was going to have to be ready for just about anything. “I don’t think it’s going to take me very long to get back to fighting form. Elizabeth, most of your English chaps probably are lying on their side and snoring by now. They would think that they had done their job, but it was nothing compared to what the woman really wanted.” How he could know what a woman wanted was beyond me. He was a Neanderthal, a primal beast and I don’t think that I would have it any other way.

  He did make good on that promise and his flag did once again lay claim to the inside of my thighs. He gave it 100% and by the time the light of day was upon us, I was completely exhausted and in no shape to do anything, but lie there. “I don’t even have the words to describe what I’m feeling, Patrick. You were able to go all night and I thought that I was going to pass out from sheer pleasure. I didn’t, because I didn’t want to make you think that you had the upper hand.” He cupped my face in his hand and brought his lips down for one more lingering kiss.

  “You were insatiable and if that is what I get every night, then you can be assured that this is where I will be. I could barely keep up with you. You say that I was the one that was uncontrollable, but I’m not sure that I can believe you.” Our bodies showed the effect of what we had done together and there were marks on his body. I had scratched him and there were marks on my body where he had scratched me. This was a relationship that was built on a give and go.

  I did get pregnant and I did have his baby and two years later, I returned back to England a changed woman. I found my brother to be cowering away from me. Whatever Patrick had done to keep him in line was doing that and a whole lot more. He was nothing like the domineering young man that I remembered. I soon found that this was not where I want to be and I walked away and went back to Patrick.

  I thought that he would be surprised, but he only opened his arms and welcomed me back into the family. My son Conner was sleeping soundly and I still couldn’t believe that I had actually considered abandoning him. He was my life and Patrick was my heart and there was no way that I was going to walk away from what made me who I was today.

  “I knew that you would be back. I also knew, Elizabeth that you needed to do that to get it out of your system. There was a moment there that I thought you were going to stay away. I hope you know that you’re the best thing in my life.” We stood there on our land watching Conner play.

  I touched my belly to inform him without saying any words that there was another one on the way.

  THE END

  Bought by the Highlander

  Victoria smiled at her reflection in the polished mirror and smoothed an imaginary stray hair back into the curled blonde twists on top of her head. Her maid, Abigail, shook her greying head and patted her shoulder.

  “Miss, everything is fine. You look plenty fine for dinner.”

  Victoria tossed her head in indignation and rustled her skirts as she breezed past the older lady.

  “My father expects perfection, you know.”

  Abigail smiled humorlessly and nodded as she straightened the dress around Victoria’s full bosom and slim waist, “Aye that he does miss.”

  Victoria sighed dramatically, as only a tormented young woman can, and she swished her way out the door and down the massive stone staircase into the dining room.

  The table was already set by the kitchen staff, and her parents awaited her arrival before eating. Her father scowled in her direction but said nothing about her late arrival. Her mother shook her head almost imperceptibly but also kept her mouth shut.

  Victoria had not realized how hungry she was until the scents from the kitchen and the table tickled her nose. The vegetable soup, homemade bread, and various accompaniments all smelled divine and she eagerly pulled her chair up. Considering her petite figure, it was amazing how much food she could actually consume.

  The soup warmed her from the inside and took the chill out of the fall air. She tried to be ladylike in her dining manners, as her mother, Lydia, had carefully taught her, but everything looks so good it was hard to resist trying the smoked ham and the cheese and the pickles and the apples. Even the bread smeared with peach chutney was delicious.

  “Victoria,” her mother chastened, “you keep eating like that and you will get to be as large as one of those brutish and unrefined Scot women. They are not ladies such as us.”

  “But Mother,” Victoria mumbled around a mouthful of food, “I’m hungry.”

  “Victoria! Please do not talk with your mouthful! That is truly barbaric!”

  She stared sullenly at her plate and finished everything she had taken. Despite her mother’s strong correction of her table manners and her etiquette, she knew her father’s words would be harsher if she wasted the food he worked so hard to provide. After dinner, the kitchen help cleared the table while the small family moved into the drawing room to sit by the fire.

  They resided in a modestly sized but luxuriously furnished estate home, made of stones gathered from the fields nearby and furnished with the finest possible items from London as well as more exotic locations that her father traded with. The three of them hardly had to lift a finger around the house and grounds due to the constant vigilance of the help they employed.

  The yellow and orange flames licked at the blackened stones of the hearth and Victoria curled up in one of the chairs, spread a quilt over her lap, and started to practice her reading. She knew, because her parents always told her, that she was fortunate in her lifestyle. Not many women were given the gift of literacy but they thought it would fetch a more desirable husband for her if she could prove their family’s proper breeding and higher education.

  She had been a wild child when she was younger, and her parents had tried everything to tame her. They were afraid that they would be saddled with an untamed daughter forever. Slowly, as the training and maturity caught up with her, she had calmed down. But every so often, her mother had to repress a smirk when she caught Victoria sticking her tongue out behind her father’s back, or when she would sneak back in from the fields with her lips stained red from tasting the fresh wild raspberries that grew by the pond.

  One of the kitchen staff delivered a large mug of ale to her father and a small glass of sherry to her mother. She looked up, hopeful and expectant, but was only given a cup of tea. She screwed her lips into a sneer but accepted it anyway.

  Her porcelain cheeks appeared flushed from the flickering light of the fire, and her rosy pink lips moved slightly as
she practiced the large words in her book. Her delicate finger slid along the page so that she did not lose her place. Her mother smiled softly as she regarded her daughter. When she was not being intentionally difficult, she was really a sweet and beautiful young woman. Both Andrew and Lydia hoped for the best possible union when they married her off. Of course, each of them had their own definitions of what would be considered the “best” union.

  Chapter Two

  The Scottish winds blew down from the hills and ruffled the head of dark curls. Dylan brushed a stray curl from his eyes and tried to refocus his deep blue eyes. The target was being difficult, but he was determined to hit it. He took a deep breath, aimed his bow carefully, and let the arrow fly. With a satisfying thunk, it finally found the apple on his friend’s head.

  With a crow of delighted victory, he tossed down the bow and loped across the field to claim his prize. His friend shook his head and bent over to pick up the apple and hand it to Dylan.

  “You are going to kill me one of these days,” he muttered.

  “I have a steady hand, my friend, and practice will help keep it that way.”

  He withdrew the arrow and took a chunk out of the apple with a smile.

  “Let’s go find some lunch. I don’t think this apple will hold us over.”

  They strode back to the castle, clapping each other on the shoulder. It was a bright autumn day and the sun felt good on their shoulders as they passed through the vegetable garden. The rest of the group was already gathered inside and waiting impatiently at the large wooden table in the dining hall.

  “About time you boys showed up! We were starving to death!”

  Dylan shook his dark head and laughed at the rotund speaker, “You are in no danger of that.”

  The group broke into hoots of laughter as the cook started to bring out the food. It was a simple but generous meal of smoked turkey on homemade bread with pickled carrots from the garden and more fresh apples. All of the men ate heartily, and washed it down with mugs of cider.