Page 25 of My Scarred Laird
The next day, Callum rode out with his men, he needed a break from the keep.
All night, his thoughts were full of her. Her smiling at him, her with her hair tumbled around her arms, her laying in his bed, her eyes filled with heat as she looked at him.
Her naked in his bed, on top of him and she rode him to completion.
That was not at all what he was expecting, but he had woken up and his shaft was hard and aching.
He had reached under his coverlet, grasping his cock in his hand, needing to relieve the pressure.
Keeping his dream at the forefront of his mind, Callum stroked himself slowly, feeling the wetness spill from his tip as he did.
He could see her perfect breasts in his mind, though he longed to know what they actually looked like.
If they were pink, like her lips, or a different color. He didn't care either way. He just wanted to suck on those nipples, bite and play with them.
He groaned, low in his throat just thinking about how good they would taste. How perfect they would feel in his big hands.
Never in his life had he thought of a woman this way, but with his mystery woman? He couldn't help it. She belonged to him.Withhim.
Stroking his cock faster, he imagined her slit. Hoped it would get wet for him. He wanted to bathe in her juice.
He had heard from his men just how wet women got, and he wanted that. Wanted to lick and suck at her, to feel her wetness slide down his throat as it made a mess of his face.
He was grunting now, biting his lip to keep his noises in his throat and then he came. In huge globs of semen all over.
He was shaking from how hard he had orgasmed and lay back, his hand wet from his release. His stomach was coated in it.
He could see her covered in his release and his cock jerked once more, making him groan again.
Bloody hell. She was unlike any other woman he had ever known. He loved it and hated it. He was betrothed to another.
How was he supposed to be with her, when he had a woman out there who was meant to be in his life? In his bed? He wouldn't betray his wife.
Ever. He wasn't the sort of man to do that. He didn't know what to do. He knew that his mystery woman was his, but he was contractually obligated to this other woman.
Shutting his eyes, Callum swore.
He got out of his bed, went to his washbasin and cleaned his release off himself.
He needed to clear his thoughts. To stay as far away from the temptation of that woman as possible. Just until he heard back from Culloden.
Then, he could find out if he was still betrothed or free to go after his woman.
For the next fortnight, he stayed far from the girl, even though it pained him.
But he heard from both Ewan and Roberta that she asked about him, that she wanted to know everything she could about him and it only confused him more, until one night he went to the kitchens to ask Roberta to bring him a tray and heard voices.
He recognized one as his woman talking and she was upset with one of the nobles in the keep. How a young girl fancied herself to become his wife and how angry his woman was about hearing that they really didn't care about him.
Roberta questioned her, and after a few minutes, Callum went still when he heard Roberta ask if Islay, -which was the girl’s name apparently-, was Islay Brodie. His heart seemed to stop, along with his breath as he listened to her reply.
She was here in her sister's stead because her sister didn't want to marry him, butshedid.
He felt triumph and elation rush through him at her words.
But then he leaned back against the wall. She had lied to him. No, he thought, she hadn't lied. She hadn't had the chance to tell him who she was, and he had avoided her because of the temptation she caused in him. She had come to find out who he was. And she had. She believed him to be a good man and a good Laird.
Which was more than he could say about even most of his own clan.
