Stolen By A Highlander (Scottish Pregnancy Romance) Read online

  “No, no please! Please don’t take me! Please, I have nothing of worth!” She had heard the stories of highlanders looting and pillaging, but the ones that scared her most were the stories of rape. “Please don’t…” Before she could finish her sentence, the highlander reached down and grabbed Freya around the calves. Throwing her over his shoulder he marched through the bedroom door.

  It was the bobbing up and down that finally brought Freya back to consciousness. She had fainted no sooner than the highlander had thrown her over his shoulder. Now she found herself staring at the back of his kilt as he walked steadily over grassy terrain. Freya had no idea where they were going or what her fate might be. She listened for the sound of others. The sound of feet marching through the damp morning grass was all she heard. She wondered if she was the only one to be taken captive in the raid. As she contemplated whether or not she should scream, the highlander came to a stop and carefully he lowered Freya down to the grass.

  “Ye can stop pretending, I know you are awake.” He stared down at her as he reached for his flask and unscrewed the top before offering it to Freya. She turned her head from him in defiance. “Drink or you’ll die of thirst!” He shoved the flask towards her again, and again Freya refused.

  “If I am going to die, I would rather die from thirst!” She didn’t know where the courage to speak up had come from, but no sooner had she said it than she wished she hadn’t. She prepared herself for his sword. The highlander paused for a moment before bursting into laughter and pushing the flask at her again.

  “Drink, woman. You won’t be dying today.” Freya could see that this wasn’t a battle to be won and reluctantly she grabbed the flask and drank from it. “That’s right, take all you need.” Freya guzzled from the flask hungrily before handing it back to the highlander, half empty. He took it.

  “Are you going to rape me?” Freya asked, her voice trembling as she contemplated the possible answer. The highlander frowned.

  “I have women offer themselves to me freely, why should I want one who does not?” He took a drink from his flask before tucking it back in its holder. Freya shrugged.

  “Then why take me at all? If you aren’t going to kill me nor rape me…what use am I to you?” He seemed to think about this before gesturing for her to get up.

  “Come, we must keep moving.” He looked her over as she stood in her bed smock. “Ye are fit enough to walk on your own.” Freya didn’t want to walk on her own; she didn’t want to walk at all. After all why should she make it easier for her captor to kidnap her?

  “I won’t.” She flinched again as an unusual defiance slipped from her lips. The highlander sighed.

  “Walk.” He said. Freya shook her head. With another loud sigh the highlander reached down and once again threw her over his shoulder. “Then we do it the hard way.”

  The journey to wherever they were going was a long one and Freya couldn’t help but marvel at the highlander’s strength. With the exception of a few small breaks, it was only when the sun began to slide down the horizon that he finally put her down for good. Freya stared at him stubbornly.

  “You will stay with me until morning.” The highlander nodded towards a small house with a roof topped with thatch. Freya turned around and looked at it for herself. It didn’t look like the type of place in which someone like this should stay. She almost didn’t want to ask as she turned back around to face him.

  “What happens in the morning?” The highlander began walking towards the door of the house and gestured for Freya to follow. Anxious for an answer to her question, she did as he asked. “I said, what happens in the morning?” The highlander opened the door to the house and gently pushed Freya inside.

  “In the morning you will be sold to the highest bidder.” He slammed the door shut.

  Chapter Three

  Candlelight spilled out across the room from the center of a large wooden table. Freya sat on a straw filled mattress in the corner of the room and eyed the highlander. He sat at the table, his flask in front of him.

  “Who will be bidding on me?” Freya asked as she leaned back against the cool stone wall. The highlander looked up at her and shook his head.

  “Whoever has the money.” Freya frowned.

  “But I am married.” He shrugged.

  “That is not my business.” Freya could feel her anger rising.

  “But it is mine! I will not be bought and sold like a piece of meat! I am a married woman.” She felt the rage pour out of her. All the rage she had felt at Angus, all the rage she felt at her life, all the injustice of it all. “You cannot treat me like cattle!” The highlander looked up at her again, surprised at the conviction in her voice.

  “It is the way of it.” He said simply as he picked up his flask and took a drink.

  “No, it is not the way of it.” Freya said. “The way of it is that I have a marriage recognized by the Lord, a marriage that you nor anyone else will overlook for the sake of a few coins!” The highlander smirked at her and then shrugged.

  “It is the way of it.” He said, as he stood up and walked to a cupboard in the kitchen, and opening it he pulled out a large round of bread. Bringing it back to the table he tore it into two pieces, taking one for himself and pushing the other to the opposite side of the table. “Eat.” Freya shook her head.

  “I won’t. I’d rather starve.” The highlander shrugged as he took a large bite of his piece and chewed it while watching her.

  “Still good!” He held it up as if he were toasting her.

  “You’re disgusting.” Freya stared down at the bed and began to pick at loose pieces of straw poking through the mattress. She wondered why she had never been able to talk to Angus the way she could talk to the highlander. She supposed that love had something to do with it – that, and honor. She knew that if she chose to speak her mind to Angus he would never stand for it; he would leave her and she would be forced to return to her family, disgraced. Still, the fear that this man should have put into her should have been enough to keep her quiet. Perhaps it was the possibility of death versus dishonor that allowed her to speak so freely, or perhaps something had simply been shaken loose.

  “I’ll live.” The highlander tore off another bite of bread.

  “I’d rather not to be quite honest.” Freya didn’t look up, she continued picking at the mattress.

  Standing up, the highlander swiped Freya’s half of bread from the table. He walked over and after pausing for a second he sat down beside her. She looked over at him and he offered her the bread. Freya looked at him for a moment before taking it. She couldn’t deny that she was hungry, after all Angus had eaten her supper the night before. She took a bite.

  “Perhaps you would after all?” Freya looked at him, her brow furrowed.

  “Hmm?” She said with her mouth crammed full of bread.

  “I said, perhaps you would rather live after all?” Freya shrugged as she finished off her mouthful of bread.

  “I was hungry, that’s all. Besides, I doubt hunger will kill me before you do.” She took another greedy bite of the bread and the highlander sighed.

  “I’m not going to kill you. If I were going to kill you, don’t you think I would have done it back there and left you, rather than carrying you all this way?” Freya shrugged again as she chewed the bread.

  “Well, I’d rather you kill me than sell me.” She spoke with her mouth full and crumbs spilled from her lips. The highlander chuckled at the sight.

  “I’m not going to kill you.” He was silent as he watched Freya destroy the bread in minutes. He offered her the rest of his. She took it hungrily and began to eat that too.

  “Whether you are or not, I was simply saying that I would rather you did.” The highlander frowned.

  “Why are you so insistent on death?” Freya swallowed her mouthful, and before taking another bite she shrugged.

  “What else is there? As a married woman I am damned to Hell if another man takes me. If you sell me I shall become
another man’s woman.” The highlander scratched his head.

  “Do you really believe that God would damn you to Hell for a choice that you have no control over?” Freya nodded as she handed back the rest of the highlander’s bread.

  “It is the way of it.” The highlander leaned back against the wall and stared into the room in front of them.

  “My God would never do such a thing.” Freya laughed derisively.

  “Your God is one who allows for the death and destruction as a means to an end.” The highlander seemed to think about this.

  “But isn’t yours just the same? Even when your battles are not fought on a battlefield, you are killed in other ways. He allows for this to happen.” Freya was silent as she followed his gaze across the stone cottage floor. He was right. For the first time in her life, someone had said out loud what Freya had been afraid to think. Angus had been destroying her, slowly bleeding her of everything she had in order to get what he wanted.

  “He has been killing me since the day we married.” The highlander glanced over at her without saying a word. “Angus. My husband. Some days he makes me believe that death truly would be a better option than life.” He listened, saying nothing. “I have always been a good wife to him. I always believed that one day he would learn to love me and treat me as a wife should be treated…” She sighed loudly. “That day has never come though and every day since we married he has treated me worse than the day before. I suppose in a way, if what you are saying is true, that this is my punishment.” She paused. “I think, if that is the case, then I would much rather spend an eternity in damnation than another lifetime as Angus’s wife.” Freya couldn’t believe that she had said something so blasphemous out loud, but it had felt so good to finally speak. She felt so much lighter for telling someone, anyone, what life was truly like as Angus’s wife.

  “Perhaps there is something else out there? Something other than damnation or a lifetime of being his wife?” Freya looked at him for a long time in silence as she tried to understand what he was saying. “Perhaps you were meant for something else…someone else…” he trailed off.

  Chapter Four

  The candle had burned down to darkness and the small house was silent aside from the sound of breathing. Freya lay back on the straw mattress as she stared in the direction of the table where the highlander lay.

  “What’s your name?” She asked through the darkness. When he didn’t answer she wondered if he might be asleep. Seconds later she heard his feet on the floor in front of the bed.

  “Lorne.” He crouched down, his hands feeling for the edge of the mattress before he sat beside it. “You?”

  “Freya.” Freya looked into the darkness where she expected his face would be.

  “Freya, a pretty name.” She could hear the smile on his lips and she couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Thank you, it was my grandmother’s name.” Lorne nodded. Freya reached up and pulled her thick hair to one side before lying her head back down. “Lorne?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Tell me more about your God?”

  “What is there to tell?” He shrugged. “We are rewarded for our trials with the bounty that we receive.” Freya shook her head.

  “But that bounty belonged to the people you took it from. That’s stealing.” She sounded so innocent that Lorne had to smile.

  “It is the way of things. Only the strong survive and the strong are rewarded.” Freya thought about this as she lay in the darkness. She had been weak all her life and never had she been rewarded. Certainly she had found a husband, but he was a husband who treated her no better than a savage would.

  “Lorne?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Do you think that weak people can become strong?” She heard him shuffle himself around on the floor so that he was facing her completely.

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “All my life I have been a weak woman.” She paused. “A good wife, but a weak woman. I allow my husband to mock me and treat me as a slave. I have loved him the way any woman should, but I wish I could be stronger.” Lorne crawled forward on to the mattress and in the darkness he searched for the outline of her body.

  “I believe anybody can become strong.” He whispered.

  Freya lay still, feeling the weight of his body lying beside her.

  “I’m afraid…” she whispered back with a sniffle. In the darkness the tears cut down her cheeks. Lorne reached out his hand, searching for her face and when he found it he placed his palm against her cheek. Freya felt her body tense as he pulled her face gently towards him. Lorne leaned forward, his lips seeking hers, and when they found them he kissed her gently.

  “Never be afraid of living bravely. It’s the people who live their lives in servitude that suffer.” He kissed her again. Freya found herself opening her lips to him, inviting him to tease her with his warm tongue. She could barely breathe as she felt his tongue brush against hers.

  It had been so long since Angus had touched Freya with love that her head began to spin at the touch of Lorne’s kiss. Her breath came short as she reached her hand forward in the darkness and brushed his unshaven face with her hand. His touch was gentle despite the barbaric nature she had been led to believe was characteristic of his people. She felt his tongue slide between her lips, dancing with her own. He could taste him, the warmth of his breath and the salt on his lips. She wanted to taste more of him, to take everything he had to offer.

  Lorne let his fingers slide down to her soft bare neck, but as he did Freya pulled away.

  “Lorne, I am a married woman.” She was panting with desire.

  “I will respect your desire, Freya, but your desire is telling me less of your marriage and more of your need to be treated gently.” Freya felt her heart break, her chest grew heavy as she heard these words spoken out loud. “You should be treated gently, Freya.” He slid his hand down and let it rest on her covered breast. “Can I do that for you?” She reached up and put her hand over his, pressing it harder and forcing the plumpness of her breast to fill his hand.

  Freya could barely catch her breath as she sat upright and allowed Lorne to gently slip her night smock over her head. Her naked body shivered at the cooler night air. She lay back on the mattress and listened to the sounds of Lorne as he bared his own body to the night.

  “Freya…” Lorne leaned down as he knelt beside her. His hand touching her soft naked stomach. “If we do this…” he straddled her gently in the darkness, his warm body covering hers. “If we do this you have to know that there is no punishment that awaits you. There is no wrath of God waiting for you. Just freedom.” Freya felt the fullness of his member slide against her bare skin. Lorne leaned down and gently kissed her.

  “I want freedom…” She whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I want freedom so very much.” Lorne pressed his lips against hers and as he did he moved his hips to place himself between her thighs. Freya felt herself holding her breath as the thickness of his member pressed against her bareness.

  “Mmm.” He hummed against her mouth softly as he gently pressed forward. The tip of his rod parting her lips, and sliding gently into her entrance.

  “Ahh!” Freya gasped as she pulled out of the kiss. It had been so long since Angus had been inside of her that it almost felt as though she were a virgin again. She slid her hands up and pressed gently against his chest. The bare smoothness of his skin was so soft, so starkly different to Angus’s hairy barrel chest. Lorne thrust forward slowly, the length of his member sliding inside Freya as she breathed softly and slowly. “Ahh…” With each moan she gave Lorne slowed, afraid that he would hurt her, break her. “I want you, Lorne.” She whispered to him as her hands slid up his chest and caressed the sides of his unshaven face.

  “Just breathe…” Lorne whispered as he slid the rest of his shaft inside her. When he was fully entered into her wetness, Lorne stilled and looked down at her in the darkness. “Does it feel good?” He whispered. “To be fr
ee?” Freya nodded, a smile creeping over her lips.

  “Oh, yes.” Her voice now filled with need, Lorne slid himself back until his tip was almost completely released from her. Leaning down so that his forehead touched hers, he thrust forward a little more forcefully than last time. “Ahh!” Freya could feel her body responding to his like she had never experienced before. She could feel her wetness surrounding him and she could hear it in the darkness. “Please, give it all to me. Give me my freedom!” She gasped as Lorne began to thrust faster and then suddenly she cried out. “OHH!” Her body tensed and she grasped at Lorne’s shoulders in desperation. “OHH!” She cried again as she clung to him for life. And then it came, the rush of freedom. Every muscle in Freya’s body began to relax, her wetness throbbed around Lorne and she could hardly breathe.

  “Are you okay?” Lorne leaned down in the darkness, his lips almost touching hers. Freya nodded.

  “What was that?” She could feel Lorne smiling.

  “That? That was your freedom.”

  “Angus never ever made me feel like that…” Lorne kissed her lips gently.

  “Then Angus is a foolish man.” Lorne pulled back slowly before sinking his member deep inside Freya again. Freya licked her lips hungrily. Her first taste of an orgasm had left her hungry for more and her fingers pressed against his shoulders with each thrust.

  “Mmm,” Freya had never felt so free before in her life as she felt the full length of Lorne sink back in to her. As she hummed for more, Lorne thrust rhythmically, hungry to give her everything that she deserved to experience. As he slid into her soft pink he could feel his own body stiffen.

  “Oh, Freya…” He thrust faster, deeper. “Oh….oh….” Suddenly Freya could feel his entire being harden under her touch and with a throb she watched his body unfold. The pulsing of his member inside her left her feeling warm inside and he listened hungrily to his moans.

  “Mmm, yes…” Freya sighed contentedly as Lorne’s body fell lightly on top of her. The warmth of every inch of his body on top of hers made her smile. “Thank you.” She whispered quietly in his ear. She heard him laugh breathlessly.