Torcall pushed her gently to the wall. His hands parted the coat she wore and found only her flimsy nightgown beneath. He felt his erection painfully against his shorts. The pressure worsened as his large palms cupped her soft breasts. She threw her head back, exposing her neck to him. Yearning for her, he took her neck, sucking on her sweet spot even his hands continued to fondle her breasts. Intoxicated by her, he pulled back and watched her enjoy his hands on her skin. She was beautiful when she had no inhibitions.
Lust with a pull foreign to him filled him. He wanted to strip her of her shift and slip himself into her. He wanted to thrust himself so deep into her that she never forgot. He wanted to expel his seed inside her again and again so that no man ever would besides him. But he couldn’t. Never had he felt so for another woman and Torcall knew what it meant. It wasn’t a knowledge that was taught. It was just known when it appeared.
It took every bit of strength he had in him to pull away from her.
Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked several times and an adorable frown formed on her face.” Why did you stop?” she demanded. He had stopped because he realized he loved her, but how could he tell her that? There was no future for them.
Torcall struggled with telling her the truth. In the end, he decided to tell her part of the truth. “Yer first time should be in a glamorous room. The bed should have petals and should cushion your delectably soft body. I cannot give ye that.”
But would ye? Would ye if ye could? Ceana wanted to ask. Instead, she nodded and pulled her clothes together. Torcall reached for her to aid her with the buttons. Ceana wrinkled her nose funnily at her. “I can do this,” she told him.
Torcall grinned. “Ye wrinkled yer nose like me ma used to.”
Ceana grinned up at him but turned her attention back to her buttons. She didn’t see Torcall’s face.
Noticing he had been silent for a moment, Ceana looked up at him. “Is aught amiss?” she asked tenderly.
Torcall shook his head. Then ruefully, he smiled. “Since me parents were murdered, I have ne’er willingly talked about them to anyone. With ye, it happened, and I didnae even notice.”
Ceana’s heart warmed. She understood what it meant to him.
“Ye remind me of me ma in many ways,” he said to her. “When she smiled, ‘twas like ye. She would put every muscle into it. She was gorgeous like ye,” he said wistfully.
Ceana’s heart skipped a beat as it did whenever Torcall called her beautiful. “Da loved her. They would hold hands, kiss, and lean into each other, and sometimes I would think that we were the happiest family in the world.”
Ceana said nothing. She could see that he wasn’t speaking to her, really. His eyes had a distant and faraway look.
“When ma was angry with him, he would do naught else but try to court her favor again. I hardly e’er saw me dad enraged or angered. The only time I remembered, one of ma’s friends from childhood had brought her some flowers. Da had thrown them down and stomped on them. He’d yelled, and ma had cried. That had been all that had been needed to have him beg her pardon. He’d picked her the largest bunch of flowers I have ever seen, even till now. He’d carried it in both arms. Mum had laughed so beautifully that day. If I close my eyes real tight, I can still hear her.”
Torcall looked at Ceana with his piercing eyes. “And then that night, they took it all away from me.”
Ceana said nothing. She had realized that he was going to tell her what he had never told anyone- what had actually happened that night.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Ye do nae have to put me in bed every night, ma,” he said with a sigh. “I am a warrior like me da.”
His mum patted his hair lovingly. “Ye will forever be me baby,” she kissed his head. “Do nae forget that.”
He sighed but smiled as well. “Good night, ma.”
“Good night, Torcall.” She blew off the candle beside his bedside as Torcall couldn’t sleep with the lights on.
With his room silent, he fell into a peaceful sleep. A terrible scream awoke him in the dead of night.
“Nay, please,” he heard his mother sob.
Torcall, frightened, had reached for the hunting knife his Faither had given him and tiptoed out of the room.
He approached his parent’s room where the screaming was coming from. His heart beat loudly, and he could hear the pounding in his eardrums. But he pushed his fear aside and pushed the door open and crept in silently- or so he had thought. The man with a mask over his face held Torcall’s mother by the neck. His arm was hooked under her chin, choking her slightly. Opposite him, his Faither stood with his sword in his hand.
“Let her go. ‘Tis me that ye want to face.” The fear in his voice had been so clear that Torcall had heard it. The robber looked to Torcall.
“Yer da thinks me a fool, does he nae?” he tightened his hold on his mother’s neck. Torcall didn’t scream no matter how hard he wanted to. “If I let yer ma go, he will kill me.”
“Nay,” his Faither begged. “if ye want money, ye can have it all. I am a rich man. Leave me wife and go. I will make no alarm. I swear on me life.”
The killer laughed. “Why would I do that? ‘Tis yer blood I am after. I have a personal vendetta with ye. I want yer blood.”
