My Highlander: A Cree & Dawn Novel, page 11
Dawn’s grin widened as she tapped her chest and nodded.
“You think you obey me?” Cree asked with a laugh.
Her firm nod confirmed that she certainly did, but her growing grin spoke differently.
Cree took hold of his wife’s chin in a loving grip. “I would not have you any other way than who you are.” Keeping hold of her chin, he leaned his head down and kissed her.
His words touched Dawn’s heart and his kiss sent a strong stirring through her that grew much too rapidly. She was sorry for the kiss to end, though she was content there in his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder once again.
Cree almost pinched himself to make sure he was not dreaming. This was real, his wife in his arms, his children running happily in play. Life had been restored. He had been restored and he appreciated his life and family more than ever.
He hugged Dawn close to him and she settled against him as she had always done and the familiar comfort of her tucked there filled him with a joy he had never thought he would feel again.
Cree caught the quick movement of Beast’s head going up and the way his eyes seemed to follow something. He looked to see what had caught Beast’s attention and saw the bulky, bearded traveler he had seen this morning, walking a bit of a distance away, a small sack gripped in his hands. He walked with his head bent, his gait slow and steady, and the shackle still attached to his wrist… and that disturbed Cree.
While the stranger’s eyes might seem focused on the ground, Cree got the feeling his eyes kept watch on his surroundings and that his slow and steady gait was on purpose. Cree intended to confront the man and find out what he was doing in the area, though that would have to wait until his wife and children were not around.
He looked down at his wife, dozing in his arms and rested his head back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. A warm breeze brushed his cheek and rustled the overhead leaves and, content, he let himself drift off in a light doze.
“Da!”
Cree barely got his eyes open when Valan plopped himself on his lap.
“Hungry,” Valan said.
Cree poked his son’s tummy. “So am I, son,”
Dawn stretched her head off her husband’s shoulder and patted her stomach.
“Mummy hungry too,” Valan said.
Cree was glad to hear that and looked around to see what his daughter was up to and his heart slammed against his chest. She was talking to the large stranger, Beast at her side. He hurried his son off his lap and into Dawn’s arms, her own face showing alarm as her eyes went from his to their daughter’s.
It seemed the talk he had had with his daughter had done little good. He had told her that she was not to go off with Beast by herself. She certainly was her mum’s daughter since she had peppered him with endless questions as to why she could not do that. He had finally told her that she was to obey him and that was that. But here she was doing it again and only a short time later.
Cree scowled when he watched his daughter take the man’s hand and start walking with him, and Beast just followed along with them. He was furious at his daughter and more so at Beast for doing nothing.
“Make it better,” Cree heard Lizbeth say as he got near.
“Lizbeth,” Cree called out and she stopped and turned with a smile. The large man, however looked perplexed and Cree realized his daughter could do that to people, have them following whatever she said and not realizing why.
Lizbeth held up the man’s hand and said, “Elsa help him.”
Cree saw that the man’s hand wore a soiled bandage.
“Our healer can help you with that,” Cree said.
“I take him,” Lizbeth said and turned to walk away.
“No, Lizbeth, go to Mummy,” Cree said.
She smiled and said, “Later.” And went to walk away again.
“Lizbeth!”
The little lass turned, this time with wide eyes to face her da.
“You will go to Mummy now!” Cree ordered.
Lizbeth nodded and hurried around her da, calling out, “Beast.”
The large dog hurried after her. Cree watched as his daughter did as she was told, and satisfied she was safe, he turned his attention to the stranger.
“Who are you and what brings you here?” Cree demanded, letting the man know he expected an answer.
“I am no more than a man passing through in search of a peaceful, isolated place to make his own. I mean you and yours no harm.”
“Then why not offer your name?”
“John, my lord,” the man said with a respectful bob of his head.
Cree did not believe that was his name, but there was little he could do about it.
“Elsa will see to your hand and you will be provided with food for your journey. One more day, then continue your quest for peace and isolation.”
“Aye, my lord, I am grateful for your generosity.”
“Do not make me regret it,” Cree said and turned and walked away.
Dawn wore her nightdress not that she planned on keeping it on, her body had been humming with passion since her husband had kissed her earlier. She not only wanted to make love, but her body needed to. She ached for the feel of her husband’s manhood deep inside her, for his intimate touches, the way he nipped at her nipples, teasing them hard. And for the powerful and pleasurable release, often more than once, that he had always brought her.
It was time. She would not let him thwart her plans. They would make love tonight. She would let nothing stop it.
The bedchamber door opened and Cree entered.
Dawn did not wait, as soon as he shut the door, she lifted her nightdress over her head and tossed it aside, then stretched her arms out to him.
Cree did all he could to control his desire, his manhood not agreeing with him and growing harder by the second. The bruise on her side had yet to heal completely and with his need so strong for her, he feared the pounding he would give her would only cause her pain and deter her healing.
Dawn stared at him, wondering what kept him from rushing to her as he had always done when she had greeted him naked. Whatever was the matter? Why had he not made love to her, been the least bit of intimate with her, since her return?
She lowered her arms and suddenly felt the fool for standing there naked, as if begging him to make love to her. Never. Never would she had thought her husband would deny her. She turned and reached down to scoop up her nightdress, her heart aching.
Cree cringed when he saw the faded bruise on her backside from the bite that was healing nicely and he hurried over to her, having seen the disappointment on her face.
“Dawn,” he said, reaching out to her.
She pulled away from him and fought to get her nightdress back on, her annoyed attempts twisting the garment until it knotted up into almost a ball.
Cree snatched it from her hands and hope soared in her. Had she been too impatient? Had her actions surprised him so much that he had frozen? She got her answer when he got the nightdress untwisted and slipped it over her head.
She felt like he had punched her in the stomach.
“You are not well enough for us to make love yet,” he said, hating to see the hurt in her eyes.
To Dawn it sounded more an excuse and she was tired of excuses. She shook her head strenuously.
“You may think you are well enough, but the bruises and marks on your body and your need to rest throughout the day say otherwise,” Cree said, hoping to make her see reason.
She shook her head again, stepping away from him as she pointed at him, then herself, and shook her head.
“Are you saying I don’t want to make love to you?” he asked, not believing she would ever suggest that, and her response stunned him all the more.
Dawn patted her chest, shook her head, then cupped her one hand turning it sideways and with her pointer finger from her other hand drove it in and out of the hole, and shrugged her shoulders.
Cree thought he comprehended what she gestured, but he had to be wrong, she would never ask him that. Finally, he said, “Are you asking if I have poked another woman in your absence?”
She gave a firm nod and folded her arms across her chest and glared at him, waiting for an answer.
Cree stared at her, but only for a moment.
He moved so fast, Dawn barely had time to draw back away from him. She did not get far. His hand shot out and grabbed her arm, yanking her up against him.
“Listen well, wife, for you have stirred my fury. I suffered the tortures of hell while you were gone. I dreamt of making love to you every night only to wake hard and eager to delve into you and find the spot where you once laid beside me cold and empty. I could think of nothing but you day and night, and how I would never again feel you touch me, kiss me, make love with me. It was like my heart was being torn from my chest piece by piece each day, until I begged for death myself.
“The thought of touching another woman never entered my head. The thought of even taking another woman’s hand in mine turned my stomach. You and you alone are the only woman I ever think about, I ever want, I ever desire. And death did not change that.”
Cree’s lips came down on hers in a bruising kiss that she returned in kind. The kiss fed only a partial hunger and when Cree tore his mouth away from hers, Dawn rushed to slip off her nightdress.
“No,” he ordered firmly, stilling her anxious hands with his. “You will leave it on and I will see to this hungry need of yours, but not to mine.”
Dawn shook her head.
“It is this way or nothing. I hunger for you far too much and will pound you like never before and only cause you more pain, and you suffer enough as you heal.”
She shook her head again, aching to feel him pound into her over and over again.
Cree scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, stretching out beside her, and before she could protest more, he kissed her. A hard, thirsty kiss that could not be quenched easily. His hand ran down along her nightdress to grab a handful of cloth and yank it up far enough for him to slip his hand beneath and rest between her legs.
She was so wet and ready for him that he almost lost his resolve, but as he eased his finger into her, his body pressing tighter against her, he felt her flinch and he realized he had pressed to tightly against her injured side. He eased away slightly, silently cursing himself.
He needed this done. If he allowed himself to linger, he would be lost. He would not be able to stop himself from joining with his wife and her flinch had proven what he had thought… she had yet to heal enough for them to make love.
His mouth sought her nipple through the nightdress and with his teeth, lips, and tongue, he began to tease it unmercifully as his fingers worked magic on her.
Dawn wanted it to last, hoping the longer it did, her husband would not be able to resist and he would mount her and give her the pounding he had mentioned. But she could not wait. She had gone far too long without him and she soon felt herself splinter into a thousand glorious pieces as she burst in climax.
She let out a roar of pleasure that could only be heard in her head and when he continued to tease her into another climax, her silent gasp felt as if it echoed in her head that a tolling bell that went on forever.
She had not realized that she was tapping her finger against his arm over and over and over as if she was screaming out yes, yes, yes.
Later as they lay in each other’s arms, Cree whispered, “I love you, Dawn, only you. My arms will only ever hold you. Never forget that.”
Dawn cuddled closer to her husband, her secret rearing its head to torment her. Her husband’s arms may never hold another, but she could not say that her husband’s arms were the only ones that ever held her.
Guilt kept her awake as her husband dozed off to sleep. She had to tell him what happened. He had to know. With guilt weighing heavily on her, she drifted off to sleep.
Cree felt the hand stir him to life, not that it would take much. He had gone too long without. His need was too great and he would wake with his hand on his manhood, seeing to his need as he had done endless times when he thought Dawn gone.
But she was not gone. She lay beside him and it took another moment for him to realize it was not his own hand pleasuring himself.
“Dawn,” he said, turning his head and meeting her lips.
It was a gentle kiss, Dawn smiling afterwards and tapping her chest, then his.
Cree understood. He had done for her and she wished to do the same for him. He thought to protest, tell her it was not necessary, but it was. He needed this joining from her, however he could get it, as much as she had needed it from him. It was a way for them to be close once again and share the most intimate of pleasures.
He did not, however, expect her to take him into her mouth, especially since her teasing strokes had sprouted him so large and thick, he thought she might choke. But she did not and he was glad of it. Like his wife, it did not take long, to his regret, that she brought him to the soaring heights of a climax that he feared just might kill him. But what a way to die.
He may have pleasured himself while Dawn was gone, but he had gotten little pleasure from it. What he experienced now felt miraculous, but then that was because he was sharing it with the woman he loved and always would.
His climax sent him tumbling in wave after wave of pleasure so intense that he let out a groan that seemed to go on forever.
It must have impressed since when his wits finally returned to him, it was to see his wife’s chin perched on his chest and her lips spread wide in a satisfying smile.
Cree ran his hand down the side of her face and rested it against her heated cheek. “Now I know why I missed you so much.”
She laughed and slapped his chest playfully.
Sometimes he could swear he heard her laugh, and it warmed his heart.
A crack of thunder had Dawn jumping and Cree’s hand going to her back to stroke it. “A storm approaches, nothing more.”
Dawn pushed herself off him and hurried out of bed, grabbing her garments to slip on.
“What are you doing?” Cree demanded.
Dawn made a gesture of being in the stocks.
Cree cursed himself, since it was his fault this tender moment between them was interrupted because he had Ann put in the stocks. And no matter that she was to be released this morning, Dawn would not abide Ann being drenched by the storm. It was easier to appease his wife, and then return to bed with her.
“I will see to it,” Cree said, but, of course, his wife shook her head and was out the door before he finished dressing.
He caught up with her as she stepped outside the keep doors. At least, she had had the sense to slip on a cloak, a light rain having begun to fall, and she had taken one for Ann as well.
Light broke on the horizon, though the sun would not show itself this morning. Cree kept pace with his wife, still annoyed that they had to leave the intimacy of their bed.
As they got nearer the stock, and Cree caught sight of Ann, her head hanging down as if lifeless, he grabbed Dawn’s arm. “Wait here.”
Dawn shook her head and yanked her arm from his and ran toward Ann.
A wind kicked up and blew the cloak off Ann that someone must have placed on her.
Cree hurried after his wife and grabbed hold of her as her knees gave way, and held her close.
Ann was dead, blood soaking through the back of her garment.
Chapter 12
Cree kept tight hold of his wife as he walked her to Sloan and Lucerne’s cottage and pounded on the door and heard Sloan shout from inside.
“Wait, wife, I will see who is there.”
This was one time Cree was glad Lucerne did not obey her husband, she opened the door and Cree hurried his wife inside.
Lucerne turned alarmed eyes on Dawn and rushed to pull out a chair at the table.
Cree lowered Dawn to the chair and kept his hand on her shoulder as he stood beside her.
“I will fix her a warm brew,” Lucerne said.
Sloan rushed into the room from the other room of the two room cottage, tucking his plaid at his waist. One look at Dawn and his eyes went to Cree.
“Ann is dead, stabbed several times in the back,” Cree said.
Lucerne gasped. “Good Lord.”
Cree bent down beside his wife. “You will remain here with Lucerne until I return.”
Dawn rested her brow against her husband’s and kept patting her chest.
He easily understood the gesture since he knew his wife so well. “This is not your fault. You did not place Ann in the stocks, I did.”
Dawn tried to argue.
“I will hear no protests from you. You are not to blame… I am. I will return as soon as I can.” He kissed her cheek and stood.
Sloan went to his wife’s side and pressed his cheek to hers and whispered, “A guard will be posted at the door to make sure you are both kept safe.”
The two men were no sooner out the door, then Cree ordered the guard to be posted, Sloan having known that would be the first thing he would do.
“Why would someone kill Ann?” Sloan asked, shaking his head.
“Probably someone who did not want Ann to recognize him,” Cree said.
“The man Lara was meeting secretly… Ann would know him.”
“And expose him.”
Both men were silent for a moment, lost in their thoughts.
“Do you think this man has returned and intends Dawn harm?” Sloan asked.
“The question is what was the intention of whoever planned Dawn’s abduction. The two men who abducted her had orders to deliver her unharmed to him. What was it that he had planned for her?”
“And why return here if he would be recognized?”
“Unless, he returned to be rid of the last person who could identify him and leave him free to complete his plan.”
“I will have extra warriors walk the village and the outskirts daily,” Sloan said.
“Find that bearded stranger who calls himself John and send two men to remove Ann before the village fully wakes,” Cree ordered.
