Stolen By A Highlander (Scottish Pregnancy Romance) Page 15

  “I won’t leave,” she said, looking up at him. Carden knew that it was against his better judgement, but he could not see tying her up again. He turned and left the cave. As he reached the edge of the woods, he shifted into a werewolf. This would make catching dinner much easier.

  Once the guards realized that Zuzulla had not returned to them, they began searching the woods. After what seemed like hours of searching and finding nothing one guard stumbled upon the remains of her dress. It looked as if it had been shredded by an animal, but there was no blood on it. He called for his companions and they all came running. He held up the dress and the look of fear could be seen on his face.

  They all knew what would happen to them if they returned without the king’s daughter and they knew that the king would hunt them all down if they didn’t return at all. They discussed their options and decided that it would be better to be thrown in prison for life than to be hunted by the army.

  As they returned to the castle Sven was walking out to meet his daughter. She had been late for dinner and he was not happy. He was ready to take her privilege of forest walks away when he saw one of his guards carrying her torn dress.

  Sven ran to the guard and grabbed the dress. Anger filled his face as the guard struggled to find his words, “She was just gone, we looked Si… Sir we searched and she is just gone.”

  They stood in silence for several seconds before Sven said anything, “Alert the army, nothing else matters but finding my daughter. Call all the soldiers home and comb these woods until she has been found.” He had no idea at that moment that he was doing exactly what the king of Kigom wanted. He was giving his enemies time to build up their armies and attack him while his army was out looking for Zuzulla.

  Little did King Sven know he would never find her. Carden had returned with two rabbits for them to share and a few handfuls of berries. Zuzulla was thankful for the berries, she knew they would hold her over until the rabbit was cooked. Carden made a small fire and began making dinner for the two of them. He sat next to the fire close to Zuzulla.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go home,” he asked.

  He had thought about what she had said while he was hunting and he wanted nothing more than to take her back to the Highlanders. He knew that the two of them would have to go off on their own for a time, at least until the searching stopped but he wanted the Alpha to change her. To make her like him. He had not felt this way about a woman in over a hundred years and he didn’t want to lose her.

  “I’m sure,” she answered.

  That was all that Carden needed. He was going to make her his. He lifted the cloak off of her body exposing her pale skin. She shivered as the cold air touched her, but Carden took her in his arms sharing his warmth with her. He gently laid her down on the grass.

  “There is something I need to tell you,” he said, looking in her eyes and he held himself above her. She slid her hand down his thick biceps, “What is it,” she was completely focused on him.

  “You have two choices, I can take you to the King of Kigom and I don’t know what he will do with you. Or I can tell him I have captured you, but are going to keep you for myself. Your father will be distracted just as the King wants and you can go with me.”

  “I want to go with you,” she answered as she opened her legs for him allowing his body between them. Carden tugged at his pants, releasing his throbbing cock as if it was a caged animal. Zuzulla slid her hand up the length of his shaft and ran her thumb over the tip just as he had done her breast. Carden drew a deep breath as a growl grew deep within him.

  “If you want to go with me there is something you need to know. We will have to go to my people, then we will have to hide until your father stops looking. Once you join us you can never leave.”

  He could see the confusion on her face. He wished that he knew how to explain it better, but he could not focus. She had wrapped her legs around his waist and was pulling him toward her with everything she had.

  “I’ll never leave Carden,” she said, looking up at him begging him to take her with her eyes.

  “Princess,” Carden pulled back away from her and he could see the disappointment in her eyes, “I’m not finished. You need to understand, my people they are the Highlanders.”

  Her legs fell off of his waist as she looked up at him. Her mouth was open, but she was making no sound and her eyes darted back and forth as if she were trying to comprehend what he was saying.

  “Highlanders,” she mouthed without saying it. Carden sat up between her legs, he could see the wetness begging him to touch it, but he knew she was going to panic. There had been too many stories told about his people, they had taken part in too much horror over the years.

  Carden looked at Zuzulla as she rose up to meet him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down on top of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, she was giving her body to him.

  “I don’t care what or who you are. I want to be with you,” she whispered in his ear.

  Carden lowered himself down onto his elbows and placed his hands in her hair. He looked into her eyes for only a second and saw nothing but the truth lay in them. Carden pressed his lips hard against hers devouring her like an animal that had not eaten in weeks. It had been so long since he had felt the warmth of a woman wrapped around his cock he was almost shaking with anticipation.

  Carden moved his hips until his cock was in line with her entrance. He wanted her right then and nothing was going to stop him from making her his. He began to push into her slowly. He could hear her trying to control her breathing and knowing that he was causing her pain, he did not force himself inside of her.

  He was gentle and caring. Looking into her eyes as he entered her body. When he was completely inside of her he slowly began to withdraw his cock. He could feel her pussy walls, adjusting to him, stretching in order to contain him. Carden let out a deeper growl than before it was going to take everything he had to contain the beast within him. To remain gentle but he was determined. It was not long before Carden was ready to cum and she felt his hot fluid pouring out of him inside of her body.

  “It gets better,” Carden said once he had caught his breath, “the first time is the worst.”

  He began to feel bad about causing her pain, he had seen a tear drop fall out of her eye, but he knew that from that moment she was his. Carden slid his cock out of her and sat up. She slowly sat up beside him, obviously sore from stretching to accommodate his cock. Carden lifted her hand, “You’re mine,” he said.

  “I’m yours,” she said, smiling at him. Carden lifted her wrist to her mouth and bit it hard, sinking his teeth deep into her flesh. Zuzulla’s breath caught and then pleasure filled her body. It was almost as wonderful as the orgasm he had given her earlier. He slowly pulled his teeth out of her and licked at the wounds causing them to instantly heal.

  “You’re marked,” was all he said. Intuitively Zuzulla knew the double meaning those words held. She was marked on the outside, and now his on the inside as well. They sat by the fire and ate their dinner. Once they were full they realized how exhausted, they were. They walked into the cave still completely naked and completely unashamed, curled up on the floor of the cave together and fell asleep, his protective hand resting on her stomach where his seed had taken root.

  THE END

  The Taken Bride

  The layers of Mary’s thick taffeta skirts rustled as she climbed into the carriage. The journey to the nearby town always exhausted her but there was no other way to obtain the household goods that George demanded. He had to have his certain type of tea and would get quite upset if there were no lemons for it.

  The afternoon was hot and humid, and as the driver started towards home, she tried to ignore the feeling of dirt and grit on her normally silky pale skin. She wished desperately that it was her bath day but she had to wait a little while longer. She hoped that she would at least find a moment to use a cool cloth on her legs once she returned to her
bedroom. The humidity in the air had even sent her auburn waves into wild curls that refused to stay in their upswept bun.

  Last night George had also demanded her other wifely duties, and she succumbed as she had for the last twelve years. It was hardly enjoyable or even pleasant, but she was in no position to deny him. Every few months, he berated her for his lack of an heir and he used it as a convenient excuse whenever he felt the urge to violate her body. There were so many nights that Mary wished he would just avail himself of the house in town that no respectable man would enter. But so far she had had no such luck in a reprieve. His sweaty bald head, clammy hairy belly, and thin limbs turned her stomach but there was no way to avoid the attentions of her husband.

  At nearly thirty, with George approaching fifty, Mary was running out of time to produce her husband the blessed son he so badly wanted from her. She had done everything in her power and was resigned to the fact it was not going to happen. Mostly she was okay with that, if George could be more accepting of the situation.

  Her life was reasonably routine and bland, including the evenings George had been out to the pub for drinking. That seemed to be more and more frequent as of late but what could Mary do. She usually tried to either be asleep or pretend to be asleep when he came home. Sometimes it deterred his interest and sometimes it did nothing to stop him.

  Mary tried to fan herself in the carriage as she rode along the bumpy dirt road. The poor horses and driver went over one rock so hard, she feared her ample bosoms would pop free of the corseted top of her dress. She clasped her hands at her chest to make sure she did not suddenly become indecent on the journey through the middle of nowhere. The heat in the air made it hard to breathe, especially given the cinched waist of the dress she had chosen for the trip.

  Mary arrived home just before dinner and frantically tried to tidy herself as well as the house. The cook had the meal almost ready, for which Mary was exceedingly grateful, but she still had to have everything else prepared and ready just so. She was not in the mood for an angry George.

  The plates of food hit the table just as George arrived home from his meeting with Robert who lived about half a day away.

  “That bloody man is going to be the death of me!” George bellowed as he slammed the door open.

  “He still will not grant me purchase of that pond. What good is owning the land if I do not own the pond that sits on it? I need the water for the trees and the horses. It is absurd that he owns the water and I own the land. He thinks I should give him the land and I think he should give me the pond.”

  “Good evening George,” Mary said quietly.

  “You as well,” he grumbled in her direction. He was more focused on the food and wine on the table than her.

  “Did you get my tea and lemons?”

  “Yes, sir. I returned from town a short while ago.” Mary smoothed a stray auburn curl back into her upswept topknot.

  “I hope you did not spend too much of my hard-earned money.”

  “But of course not, sir.” Mary looked up at him through her dark lashes. His face was not turning quite so many different shares of red so he must not have been too upset with her.

  After dinner, George continued to drink the wine while Mary read by candlelight in the sitting room. She excused herself early for the evening, still wanting to wash down before crawling into her bed. She was grateful that they slept in different rooms most nights. It enabled her to get more sleep than if she had to listen to him snoring all night.

  Mary carefully removed and laid out her garments, wishing she had the ability to lock the door as she stood naked in the middle of the room. She soaked the soft cloth in the cool water of the basin and caressed her heated skin. It helped to get rid of a little of the grime as well as took away some of the heat of the day.

  As she rinsed and wrung out the cloth, the door burst open loudly and George lurched into the room. No doubt he had finished his bottle of wine and was ready to have his way with her. There was rarely any point in protesting, let alone when she was caught naked.

  George pushed her roughly to the bed and climbed on top of her, forcing her thighs apart. After several minutes of grunting in her ear and thrusting himself into her body, she felt his seed surge into her and she fought back revulsion. He rolled off and stumbled back through the still open door to his own bed to sleep it off.

  Mary sighed deeply at the state of her life, and now the mess of her bed. She rose slowly and tried to clean herself off again. It had been drilled into her that sex was only for married people but she really did not see the attraction anyway. What on earth would she have gained from George’s attentions prior to marriage? When she had been younger and still in the market for a husband, her childhood friends told her that she would have her choice of any man. Her dark red ringlets, deep green eyes, and creamy skin were not bad to look at, but the years of George’s drunken advances had rendered her incapable of seeing beauty in the mirror.

  The time seemed to drag on, daily meals and weekly trips to town. And every few nights, George would stumble in and out of her body in a drunken stupor. He spent the evening meal cursing to her about Robert, but she did not truly understand the need to own that pond in particular in comparison to all of the other ponds and streams they owned. But, as George frequently pointed out, what does a woman know about a man’s business such as this. She was only good for keeping house and producing children, which she was obviously unable to accomplish.

  One particular evening George was especially enraged at Robert. One of the trees on that parcel of land had recently begun bearing fresh ripe apples and George took the fruit as a personal affront to everything that made him a man.

  Mary had no idea what apples had to do with anything, but George instructed her to go gather as many as she and the cook could carry. The next morning, Mary put on one of her more casual dresses, the light cotton type that one wears around the house. She and the cook trudged down the hillside and around the pond to gather said offensive fruit.

  Mary grinned at the short rotund cook trying to jump for the apples.

  “Do not laugh mum, it’s harder than it looks.”

  Mary, at several inches taller and a number of pounds lighter, was able to reach them more easily.

  The cook just shook her head, “I’m doing the best I can but I do not care anyway. What are we doing out here mum?”

  Mary looked at the shiny red skin of the apple and took a deep bite, chewing thoughtfully. She offered the cook a bite and the poor sweating girl accepted eagerly.

  Out of everyone in the household, the cook was probably the one person Mary spent the most time with, and coincidentally liked the most. They lay back on the ground next to each other and Mary ran her fingers over the tiny blades of grass. It felt like the velvet that covered their dining room chairs.

  Off in the distance, hoof beats pounded against the ground but the two women paid no attention. In the countryside, hoof beats were as common as crickets or birds. The grass almost felt cool beneath them compared to the sweltering blanket of humidity that spread out on top of them.

  Slowly Mary became more aware of the hoof beats, as though the ground was trembling from them. Suddenly they stopped. She opened her eyes and found herself staring up at the underside of a black horse’s jaw.

  She scrambled away, terrified of the giant black beast. The cook crawled in the opposite direction with the same fear on her young face. From that angle, Mary could not make out the rider, but she was certain no soldier of her husband’s would dare ride up on her in that manner.

  “How dare you! Who do you think you are?” Her indignation blossomed pink on her pale cheeks.

  “I am Thomas, and work for Robert. You are trespassing, ma’am.” The voice rumbled like the summer thunderstorms but she was not familiar with the speaker.

  “I… My husband… we were just tasting the apples. I believe they belong to George. But we shall be on our way, sir.” She stuttered through her confusion and fe
ar.

  “The young lady here,” he gestured to the cook, “may leave. You are coming with me. We do not take lightly to trespassing. Let alone thievery.”

  “What? Trespassing? Thievery? What are you talking about, sir? This is our land and these are our trees.”

  “That apple in your hand does not belong to you or your husband. It belongs to Robert.”

  Mary blinked. She was being detained for eating an apple?

  The voice turned away from her and ordered the cook, “Get back to the house and tell George to expect a notice from Robert.”

  The cook blinked and stood frozen. She looked to Mary and Mary flicked her wrist, shooing her back to their house. The cook took off like a rabbit with a fox inches behind her.

  The booming voice grew closer as the speaker dismounted the horse.

  “I cannot imagine what Robert will have to say about this.”

  Mary looked up through her lashes and found herself face to face with a very broad chest. She kept looking up until she saw a face hovering above hers, dark eyes glinting fire and sun-kissed brown waves of hair combed straight back. Several days of beard growth prickled his chin and cheeks but instead of looking unkempt, it seemed to give him a dashing air.

  “I… I did not mean anything. My husband, George, told me to come collect them. And cook and I were hungry so we tried one. We did not mean anything by it.” Mary had dropped her face back down, praying unsuccessfully that her cheeks might return to their normal pale color.

  “That is not my concern. That is between Robert and George so you must come with me until they have resolved it.”

  “What? I cannot come with you. I must be home when George returns.”

  “Your cook will explain what has happened.”

  His large hands and noticeable biceps easily took Mary by her slender waist and lifted her to the horse. She tried not to struggle for fear of startling the animal and ending up suddenly back on the ground. She slid backwards towards the hind end of the horse as the man mounted in front of her.