Page 72 of Highlander’s Quest of Desire

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Elspeth watched the stars in the heavens. Her body had come over cold since her wedding had been announced. Nothing interested her any more, not food, not the clothes, not anything. She spent her days staring at the sky, hoping to grow so thin she could squeeze out of the slit in the wall that was a window and jump to her death.

It had been Gwen’s swollen face, red from crying, that had finally convinced her the Bruce was dead. The thought of the love of her life, cold and broken at the base of that cliff was enough to drive her mad with grief.

Yet, Elspeth was all but dead. She felt nothing, she wanted for nothing. Her life was now an endless wait for the comforting embrace of death.

The door opened, but Elspeth did not turn to see who it was. She didn’t care. Gwen came into view carrying a large basket. The heady smell of roses wafted toward her, clouding her senses for a moment. It was a sickly-sweet smell that turned her stomach, but she hadn’t eaten in a while so there was nothing to throw up.

“I picked these special for ye,” Gwen said kindly. The chamber maid had opened up more in the past few days. She took Elspeth’s hand and placed a rosebud in it. “Ye will look like a fairy come from the woods on the morrow. Yer face has healed something bonny.”

Elspeth gazed at the rosebud, at its perfectly enclosed petals and the pouting mouth at its center, as if it were looking for a lover to kiss. Her palm closed around the bud and slowly crushed it. She opened her palm again and let the petals fall to the floor at her feet.

“I’ve prepared a special meal for ye,” Gwen said, placing the tray of food on the chest. “It’ll help ye keep yer strength up.”

Despite the haze that enveloped her she noticed that Gwen was unusually cheerful. The past few days they had both been struggling with grief. While Gwen had mourned her Laird, Elspeth had mourned her love. She wondered if she would also be able to smile someday like Gwen was smiling now. It seemed like an impossibility.

“I shall come in the morning to prepare ye for yer wedding day,” Gwen said. “Get as much rest as ye can. It will be a long day, that’s for certain.” She straightened the sheets on the bed, then left.

Elspeth did not move from her seat by the window. She wished she really were a woodland fairy so she could magic herself into a bird and fly away. The tide shifted, and the wind blew inland. The salt of the sea merged with the salt of Elspeth’s tears and dried in saline tracks on her cheeks.

The door opened again. Elspeth did not look away from the window. She didn’t want to engage in any conversation with Gwen. She wanted to be left alone with her silence and her sorrow. So, when she touched the side of her face and played with a strand of her hair, she slapped her hand away.

“I didnae ken ye’d be so disappointed to see me.”

Elspeth’s head whipped around so fast she cricked her neck. Hand flying to her neck where the pain flashed like a lightning bolt, her eyes were frozen on the figure that stood before her.

Dirty, streaked with dust, and slightly bleeding from his palms, Bruce Grant was grinning down at her like the cat that had eaten an entire roost of chickens. Elspeth’s deadened senses flashed back to life, and she was a little disoriented by it.

Bruce was alive! He was standing right in front of her.

Elspeth touched his arm to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, and his flesh was warm, the hair on his arms tickling the pads of her fingers. “Yer real,” she whispered.

“Aye,” he said, his voice husky. “And I’m going to kill Leo for what he did to ye.”

He pulled her close and took her lips in a passionate kiss. Her frozen extremities bloomed back to life, and she felt the blood pump through her, resurrecting her from her grief.

As if sensing her need for the reassurance of his touch, Bruce kissed her neck, his lips tugging gently on her earlobes, his tongue tasting the salt of her skin. But Elspeth needed more. She slid her hands underneath his shirt and pulled it off him. She inspected his torso for any cuts or bruises, kissing his chest, her lips closing on his hardened nipples and tugging them gently with her teeth.

“Elspeth,” he moaned.

She didn’t stop. Fingers battled with the drawstrings of his pantaloons while her lips were occupied eliciting more moans from his lips. She could feel the brute strength of him straining through the fabric. Once free of its bindings, his hard erection slipped into her hands, the weight of him comforting.

Pulling her mouth away from his, she trailed wet kisses down his torso, planting a slow, loving kiss on the scar by his belly button, then she sunk to her knees and timidly kissed the glistening tip of his manhood.

“Elspeth!” Bruce groaned, his hands caressing her face then entwining in her hair. Keeping her gaze fixed on his, she opened her mouth slightly and licked the tip of him, teasing, coaxing, until he was hotter, and harder.

Then she slipped her mouth around him, her tongue licking every inch. He tasted of salt, and life. His moans gave her pleasure, and she felt more in control than she had before in their dalliances by the stream.

“Ye’ll drive me to insanity!” Bruce exclaimed and pulled her up. “How I’ve missed ye, my Elspeth.”

He kissed her again, and now his hands unclasped the buttons on her dress until the fabric slid of her shoulders and pooled around her ankles. She could feel his gaze on her flesh like roaming fingers, devouring her. Her frenzied heart could no longer stand being apart from him. Taking his hands, she lifted them and placed one on her left breast, the other on her posterior. In her own two hands she held him, stroking, caressing, her eyes never leaving his as she pulled him closer and kissed his lips again.

Elspeth guided him toward the bed, but he shook his head. “Guards,” he whispered. “We cannae make any noise lest we are discovered.”

Reluctantly, she let him go and pulled the covers and blankets from the bed and piled them on the floor. A bar of moonlight illuminated their bed of sheets. Pulling him down by the neck, Elspeth laid back and opened her legs wide. She needed him inside. It wasn’t a desire; it was a hunger, ravenous and eager.

A cry threatened to escape from her lips as he plunged inside her, but Bruce captured it with his kiss, his tongue caressing the insides of her mouth, dancing a duel with hers while he matched rhythm with the thrust of his hips. The solid mass of him, the heat of his skin, and the powerful size of him as he filled her up were all affirmations that he was alive, he was there, and she wasn’t alone in this world any more.