Page 180 of Claimed Highland Brides

She shook her head, vigorously. “Never. I wouldn’t want that.”

He took a step closer so that they were standing almost nose to nose. “Is that so?”

She stepped back. “Aye. But ye need to have yer wounds tended.” She peered at his side. “Seems ye’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

“Nay, ye’re no’. Come wi’ me to the kitchen so I can borrow some water and a cloth.” She took his hand and began to lead him away. He resisted, making her stop.

“I’m alrigh’.”

Aileen frowned, studying him with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I cannae be showing weakness the noo, ye ken?”

“’Tis no weakness to treat yer injuries!”

“It is to my enemies.”

Aileen sighed. “At least let me take a gander at it, see if ye’re bleeding to death.”

Barclay grinned. “How will ye ken?”

Aileen widened her eyes at him, pleadingly. “Please.”

Barclay sighed, grabbing her arm. “Come wi’ me then.”

He led her around the castle to a secluded bit of wood, just past the well. He stopped, releasing her hand, and turned to her. “Weel, have at it.”

She pulled up his tunic, her hand running along the various cuts, scrapes, and bruises that Gilroy had managed to leave. Lifting her gown, she tore a bit of her shift and used it to wipe away most of the blood.

“Weel? Am I dying?” he asked softly, his eyes steady on her. She looked up and met his look, her hand falling to her side as her ministrations were forgotten. She straightened up; the intensity of his gaze caused her hand to tremble the slightest bit.

“I think ye’ll live,” she whispered.

“The Lord be thanked.” He smirked, leaning towards her. She met his lips with her own, the impact shuddering through her body. She clung to him, hands tight around his neck as his own encompassed her middle like an iron band. He plundered her mouth, giving no quarter nor asking for any.

Slowly, one hand slid down her side, pulling up her gown as he propped her up against a tree. Her legs went around his waist as he loosened the lace of his breeches.

They both groaned loudly as he entered her, hips undulating in circular motions as he went as deep as he could. She bit her lip so as not to scream her joy out into the world and prayed that nobody came searching for them.

A part of her was quietly scandalized at their blatant flouting of convention in this way, but most of her was too lost in the sheer ecstasy of lovemaking to care that anyone could see them if they cared to look.

She threw her head back, mouth open in a soundless scream as her body convulsed, his hot rod still plundering her insides, each jolt jumpstarting a new round of sensation in a never-ending spiral of joy. He emptied himself inside her, and she milked him for every drop, relishing the feel as his spend filled her up.

Her legs shook, and she loosened them, letting them fall to the ground. Barclay kept a secure hold on her so that she did not collapse to the ground in a boneless heap.

“Are ye alrigh’?” he asked softly.

She huffed a laugh, unable to believe he would ask her that when she was still reeling from her orgasm. “I dinnae ken. What does alrigh’ mean?”

Barclay tightened his hold on her. “Nothing. We should go back in case yer brother-in-law is looking for us.”

Aileen gasped, a horrifying image of Daividh coming upon them at the moment, and just knowing what they had been doing crossed her mind. She stumbled backward, out of Barclay’s arms. “Aye, we should go.”

Hurt flashed through Barclay’s eyes as she pulled away from him, but then he smiled and nodded. “Aye.” He turned, leading the way back to the courtyard, as Aileen tried to figure out what she’d done to anger him.

The courtyard was busy with people dragging luggage hither and thither. Barclay came to a stop in front of one of Daividh’s men. “What’s happening?”