Healing the Tormented Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Read online

  “Ye have done more than enough, Laird. I assure ye of that,” she said, and she laid her head upon his chest.

  For a moment they stood together, her arms around him and she could feel his heart beating against her, as though he were nervous for what might happen next.

  “Ever since ye have been here I have grown fonder of ye by the day,” he whispered.

  “And … and I have grown fonder of ye. I cannae picture a different life now. When first I arrived, all I wished for was to get away, but now I cannae imagine where I would go if it were nae here,” she said.

  She looked up at him, their eyes meeting, as he leaned down and kissed her.

  Chapter 15

  Raghnall’s touch sent a shiver running through Ceana, more intense than before, a feeling quite unlike anything she had ever felt.

  This is desire. I want this man to touch me.

  A sense of trepidation gripped her, for she had never experienced such a touch before. Her grandmother had never explained the touch of a man, but Ceana knew in that moment that it was what she wanted with this wonderful man who now began to kiss her lips with such passion, fueling an even greater excitement within her.

  He took her by the hand, smiling beneath the moonlight.

  “Come with me, Ceana,” Raghnall whispered, kissing her gently on her neck, his hands running down the length of her body.

  Willingly she followed him, as he led her from the castle roof and down the steep ladder towards his chambers. Her heart was racing with anticipation, the mystery of the unknown a tantalizing arousal. Her whole body was tingling all over.

  She had not seen inside his chambers before. They were comfortably furnished, the bed beneath a wooden canopy, its curtains opened invitingly. A fire burned in the hearth, but she did not need its warmth, so overcome was she by the burning desire within her.

  Raghnall’s touch aroused passion in her. She was naïve and didn’t know what would come next but it felt right.

  He closed the door behind them and turned to embrace her.

  His hands were caressing her breasts, causing Ceana to let out a deep breath, his lips were moving over her neck, with the skill of one who knew just how to excite her further. She gasped, and he paused for a moment, breathless from his own desires.

  “Dae ye like the touch of my hand, Ceana? I so desired ye the other night, but now I desire ye again,” he said, and she nodded in reply.

  Raghnall began kissing her once more, while untying and loosening the laces of her gown, then pushing it from her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. Her linen chemise soon followed. She was grateful she had hidden the key earlier in her own chambers.

  Ceana stood before him, naked except for stockings that reached up to her thighs—she was shy and embarrassed as he beheld her body for the first time. An unwilling sense of shame came over her—such intimacy was for marriage, she had always been told.

  Raghnall knelt before her, slowly removing her stockings, one at a time. He ran his hand up her leg, caressing her upper thigh—the burning desire was still within her, now stronger, enough to overcome such shame. He removed his clothes quickly and as he revealed himself to her, she was seized with the need to touch him. Gently, he led her to the bed, then with his hands about her waist, lifted her onto it.

  They laid upon the bed, side by side. His hands were searching her and she succumbed to the overwhelming feelings of passion, surrendering all conscious thought. She gave in to her arousal, gasping—his hands and lips were touching her, exploring her. Such new sensations were quite astonishing—nothing had prepared her for the feelings now building deep inside.

  He looked at her and smiled, a questioning look upon his face, as his hands caressed her breasts.

  “Let me be the first to possess ye, Ceana,” he whispered and she nodded, nervously.

  “I … I daenae ken what to dae, though,” she said, for she had heard only fleeting whispers of what he suggested now occur.

  “‘Tis all right, I will show ye,” he said, and gently he began to kiss her lips, before moving down her breasts, squeezing with his fingers until she winced in pain.

  “Please be gentle with me,” she whispered, and he kissed her again, as she felt the pain subsiding, and a tingle running through her.

  He let out a deep sigh, as he laid his body upon her and she winced again at the pain she knew was to come.

  “I am sorry,” she whispered.

  “Hush,” he said as he nuzzled her neck.

  Something wasn’t right. Raghnall’s instincts kicked in, over-ruling his passion, making him stop and think about what could be wrong. He was a skilled and experienced lover, and he finally realized that Ceana was willing, very aroused, but very scared. And at this moment, unhappy. He slid over to stretch out next to her, still kissing her slender neck.

  Only vaguely aware of it at the time, he now appreciated how shy, embarrassed, and shameful she had felt so far this eve. He did not want that for her.

  “Ye are beautiful, ye are so very beautiful,” he said, his lips upon her.

  While he worshipped her breasts, Ceana pulled back, trying to cover them. Seeing her hands, with her long, slim fingers up against her nipples was so stimulating, Raghnall was again aroused. He reached up and with his hand over hers, squeezed her hand around her breast. The look of bewilderment that passed over her face made him realize she did not know what the sight of a woman’s body did to a man, what the feel of her body under his hands did to him.

  She was not only a virgin but in her innocence, she was still in her girlhood. In her former isolation, inexperienced due to her lack of contact with others of her own age, both men and women, she had not yet crossed into womanhood, neither in mind or body.

  Raghnall finally understood it was up to him to lead Ceana, who he wanted to be his mate for life, from girlhood into womanhood. Her fulfillment should be the beginning of a lifelong love affair betwixt them, filled with passion and joy, and most of all, happiness and contentment. They were creating something for the rest of their lives, for eternity.

  He needed to be masterful—not selfishly giving in to his passions, thinking only of his own pleasure. This was deeper than that. Looking at her, loving her, for a moment, he felt despair—what could he possibly do to turn this night into a source of wonder, of exultation, for her—what did he know of the inner feelings of a woman? He knew nothing. All he could do was be there with her, to reach for their ecstasy together.

  Raghnall had touched her, made her aware of her body. She enjoyed the new sense of physical pleasure but he needed a way to ease her embarrassment and calm her nerves. He leaned back on the pillows, arranging his hands behind his head, elbows out to the side.

  “Ceana, I’d like for ye to look at me, to touch me, to learn me body, for ‘tis now yours.”

  Ceana was so glad Raghnall had stopped groping her breasts. She was so embarrassed and could not understand what that was for, what he was trying to achieve. He kept pulling at her nipples, licking them, sucking like a babe, but why? Did he think he’d get milk out of them? She let him do it since he seemed so excited by it, but it made her ill at ease and she hoped he would move on to other things that felt better.

  Rolling onto her side, Ceana faced him, and started touching him, though she knew nothing of such things. Slowly, she ran her hand across his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm, delighting in the curly black hairs that sprang back from her touch. She touched his nipple and smiled, it was so flat. For a moment she hesitated, wondering if what she was doing was right.

  “Aye, that, lass, dae that,” he whispered. Watching the intent look on her face as she stroked his chest, caressed his jaw, and ran a finger lightly down his nose and across his eyebrows, he saw when she started to relax, to enjoy her exploration. He slipped his leg between hers and slowly, eased his thigh between hers, gently rubbing her core, feeling her heat.

  Ceana’s whole body was being awakened. Focused on stroking Raghnall all over, feeling his skin, his hair, his muscles, she was becoming increasingly aware of a growing sense of closeness, of belonging, of sharing their lives with each other. She leaned over, kissing his shoulder, his neck, his lips. Her passions were being deeply aroused for the first time.

  What is this emotion taking over my senses? Is this lust? Could it be love? Lust is supposed to be a sin, isn’t it? Yet this—this is wonderful.

  Without being aware she was doing so, Ceana was grinding on Raghnall’s thigh, enjoying the sensations of pleasure it brought. Raghnall reached down and put his palm where his leg had been, holding her as she rocked back and forth on him.

  “Ceana love, ye are wild, so wet, I love the feel of ye,” Raghnall murmured to her. She was moving with a freedom he welcomed with wonder, envisaging their nights ahead, together exploring each other.

  That was the wrong thing to say. A stricken look came over Ceana, and pulling away, she was clearly aghast at her own actions.

  Raghnall did what came natural to him—laughing, he pulled her into a hug and let her see he was smiling, and coaxed a smile from her.

  “There’s naught to be upset at, what ye are doin’ is wonderful. Let me show ye some more, my love, let me help ye reach a place ye have never been,” Raghnall said as he gently had her stretch out on the bed beside him.

  In this, Raghnall knew exactly what he was doing. Keeping full eye contact, drinking in her beauty now heightened with passion, yet taking note of what she liked most, he touched her with practiced fingers, stimulating and provoking. Ceana sighed wearily when he reached her breasts, but the tattoo he beat around her nipples soon had them hardened and erect. Finally, aroused, she thrust her chest towards him, wanting more.

  Ceana was taken by surprise when Raghnall tweaked her breasts in such a way—she felt the vibration down through her body to her core. Shaking a little, not knowing why, she could feel each tap of his fingers around her nipple, down in the place she had so wantonly rubbed against his leg. Breathing faster, she threw her head back but could not break the connection with Raghnall’s eyes, that were starting to smolder, echoing her own growing lust. When she started arching her back and rocking her hips, Raghnall slid his hand down, and let his tongue and mouth take over at her breast.

  “Oh, don’t stop. Please. It is so—,” Ceana ran out of words to describe these new sensations.

  “Ach, don’t worry, love. I know what to do for my Ceana,” Raghnall replied.

  Her lover was right—he did know what to do. Feeling his mouth and tongue was even more intense than his hand had been, and Ceana thrust her breast deeper into his mouth, arching her back while moaning with need.

  As Raghnall was stroking her nub, now hot and wet and firm, he was still carefully noting exactly what felt best to Ceana. In her growing lust and need she was writhing out of control, moaning, and panting. He slung his leg over hers to help keep her still, and laid heavily across her chest as he continued tweaking her nipple hard, with his tongue and mouth. He was focusing on her needs, letting her reach those heights of pleasure—reveling in her newfound awareness of sensuality and physical gratification.

  Ceana knew she was moaning loudly but could not stop herself. What Raghnall was doing to her sent her mind spinning. Oh, Lord, it felt so good—she loved how it felt. She loved Raghnall. The intensity inside was building up, she was going to burst, oh, she loved it, loved him. “I love you, I love you,” she screamed as her eyes rolled back and she saw stars across her eyelids, her entire body throbbing with her release.

  As Ceana’s breathing slowed, the intense feeling of pleasure ebbed, and looking at Raghnall, she was suddenly, again, embarrassed and filled with shame. Closing her eyes as her only way to hide, she began regretting what had just happened.

  Raghnall did not realize Ceana had withdrawn from him, in her mind at least. Rather, he was overjoyed at how beautifully and freely she exhibited her newfound sensuality. Rolling over and holding himself atop of her, Raghnall slipped his very hard manhood between Ceana’s thighs, that were once again held tightly together. Slowly delving down in that hot, wet, enveloping spot, Raghnall delighted in the glories of her breasts, her delicate, slender neck, and the silky fall of her flaming hair surrounding her pale white shoulders. It did not take long for Ceana to start tilting her hips to further stroke him, as she held him tightly between her thighs.

  Ceana’s feelings of humiliation were being wiped away with each caress of Raghnall against her tender spot. Her emotions were as strong as her physical desires, washing over her in a wave of intense caring for this man holding himself above her. Not even knowing the secrets of her own body, Ceana was surprised when Raghnall parted her legs, and shifting his position, breached her warm gateway.

  Raghnall, realizing Ceana’s virgin state meant he had to be careful and gentle, eased her into the realm of womanhood. He leaned into her, and instantly withdrew. Then, again, slowly delving into her warmth, he was enveloped by her, then withdrew. Slowly, gently, he again inched deeper into her mysteries. This was the farthest he had been in her yet, and finally breached her innermost wall.

  Ceana, gasping, grabbed hold of her thighs, panting, swallowing deeply. Yet she did not cry out, or ask Raghnall to stop. He stayed still as a statue, waiting to see her reaction. Finally, she gave a small, tentative thrust of her own, and he knew all was well. Slowly withdrawing, bemoaning the loss of her tight warmth, he looked into her eyes. She was silently, desperately pleading with him to fill her again. He reached again for those depths and when she started rocking, tilting up to meet him, he lost all control. They parried and thrust, mindlessly wanting more.

  Ceana wrapped her legs around Raghnall, her hands pulling on his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his skin, begging him, “Oh, please, please, please, more.”

  How long they shared the intense physical union Raghnall could not say—it felt like hours of being surrounded by sensations of bliss and pure joy. The pleasure washed over them in droves as they melded and became truly one. Eventually, a need, a straining towards culmination, drove them. Both reaching for the deepest fulfillment, skin glistening, moans ripping from their throats, the drive for completion grew stronger and stronger.

  Ceana’s yearning became pleading, then demanding. In a final rush of frenzied abandon, Raghnall could feel her spasms, tightening, squeezing, as she let go with a cry and fell back. His own pulsating ripped a groan from his throat as he thrust as deeply as possible in her, giving himself up to the sensation of pure release.

  It was more than she had ever thought it would be, the delight of tender union with the man she had fallen deeply in love with. How perfect that moment felt.

  They were both spent, breathing in great gasps of air. Collapsed on top of Ceana, Raghnall was overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of being one with her. Ceana lay mindless, selfless, with no thoughts, just feelings, dazed and stunned. Both knew from the center of their being—this was love.

  Still breathless, Raghnall rolled onto his side, unable to speak for a moment, as Ceana too recovered from what had been the most extraordinary moments of her life.

  I cannae deny it now, I cannae deny I love him.

  “Ceana, are ye all right?” Raghnall asked and she nodded, as he placed his arms around her.

  “How lovely ye are, how enticing, how beautiful,” he whispered, but Ceana did not hear his words, for she had fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  When Ceana awoke she wondered for a moment where she was and brought her hand quickly to her neck.

  Where is the key?

  For a moment, panic rose within her.

  But the sound of Raghnall’s gentle breathing brought her to her senses.

  How fortunate that I stowed it in the straw of the mattress.

  She was blushing at the knowledge that she was naked in the bed of Raghnall MacCramhain, the Laird, though delighting in it at the same time. There was something so exciting about this new experience, to share it with a man she had come to find alluring and attractive, a man who had wished to possess her and had shown her just how delightful that possession could be.

  Ceana could not help but feel a deep sense of connection with the man now lying next to her, asleep. She sat up, looking down at him. Ceana wanted to kiss him again, to give into her desires once more, and hold him as she had done last night.

  Does he love me, too?

  The feelings she had within her were surely those of love.

  Dae I ken what love is? Can ye ever ken what love is until ye feel it?

  She wished she could ask her grandmother for advice, surely she would know, though they had spoken little of the married state.

  Ceana had always assumed she would be forever like her grandmother. A woman of the forest, unburdened by family, or the demands of marriage. But Raghnall had awoken in her a different desire and in giving in to her feelings, Ceana had come to know a different way, one she now could not prevent herself from wishing to know more of.