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BRAM STOOD ATOP THE hill, watching the festivities below. May Day celebrations were always a festive time for the clan. Now that Cruim was no longer the laird, there seemed to be a lighter atmosphere amongst the people.
Bram saw the men lining up for the Chasing and grinned. They were a rambunctious lot, and he chuckled at the friendly rivalry between competitors. As laird, he abstained from taking part this year. In the past, he had thoroughly enjoyed chasing down a bonnie woman for a kiss, but now he would just observe from the sidelines.
The unmarried women made their way to the starting line. There was much frivolity among them. The unattached men formed a line a short distance away to give the ladies a head start.
The rules were simple, men could capture a woman for a kiss. Any woman who escapes capture and grabs the marker from the loch is entitled to a boon. Whatever the request, the laird must grant it.
“I ken which one I’ll be carrying away,” Aldar one chaser said.
“I have my eye on the same lass,” his friend Corey replied. “She’s a bonnie one, light on her feet too.”
“Ha! She is much too fast for your fat gut.” Aldar chortled as they both howled with laughter and tried to push each other out of the way.
“Who are they talking about?” Bram asked Iain.
“Sorcha,” Iain replied.
Bram’s smile disappeared in an instant. He whipped his head to the starting line just in time to see Sorcha and Tyra arriving. Sorcha wore trews and a tunic. He knew then she was determined to outrun them all.
“No!” Bram shouted and clenched his fists. “She is a captive she could use this to escape.”
Iain smirked and said, “Aye, I suppose she could. But dinnae worry, I’m sure Graham or any number of men down there will catch her first.”
Bram whirled his head around to see Graham with one foot forward and his body bent low, ready to sprint. Bram remembered Sorcha’s comments from the dance. Then he saw red. He stormed down the hillside and shouted to his cousin, “Tyra! Get gone, both of you!”
Tyra and Sorcha ignored him. They were focused on the man who held the carnyx close to his lips, ready to sound the starting signal.
Iain strode after Bram, trying to stop him. “Dinnae make a show cousin, let them have their fun.”
“Over my dead body!” Bram shouted.
It seemed forces were working against Bram because he was halfway down the hill when the carnyx sounded and the chase began.
Sorcha heard the horn blast and took off immediately in a hard sprint. She aimed to put as much distance between her and the pack. The stragglers would no doubt get caught first, lessening the number of competitors. It did not even occur to her that any man would chase her. Her sole purpose was to win the marker and claim a boon, her freedom.
What she was not expecting was several men making a beeline for her.
She heard one shout, “Och, I’m coming for ye MacGregor!”
Sorcha ran faster, leaving him to eat the dust from her heels. She heard the crunching sound of feet crushing dead leaves as participants stomped and charged their way through the forest. Sorcha ran on, jumping over shrubs and vegetation and weaving and dodging chasers as she went.
“Sorcha! Tis me, Graham, slow down.”
She refused to turn her head but could see from the side of her eye Graham trying hard to keep pace with her. Men she had danced with the previous night also appeared in her periphery, but in their rivalry, they tripped over each other, landing in a heap.
She grinned and kept on running. Zigzagging her way through a copse of aspens, she heard Graham grumble before he disappeared and bowed out of contention.
But Sorcha would not relent. She had a boon to win, and for the first time, Sorcha realized she had a real chance of escape. Sorcha heard squeals and feminine giggles as one by one, chasers hauled women over their shoulders. It was then she hit her stride and began pacing at a more sustainable speed. She felt exhilarated and alive.
Soon the voices faded in the distance as chasers veered off to pursue easier prey. Then there was the quiet hum of the forest as the breeze swept through the trees and insects hovered over meandering dirt paths as the fragrant scent of flowers lingered in the air. Like a woodland creature, Sorcha ran on.
Soon she heard rushing water and the closer she got the sound grew louder until she could see cascading waterfalls in the distance. She knew she was close, and the anticipation of victory urged her on.
Then she saw it. Not too far in the distance, a solitary marker swayed in the breeze. Marking the end of the race at the point where the river joined the loch. She knew that once she reached the clearing, she would win. There were no other people around, and she was close to freedom.
Sorcha had just leaped over a small shrub when she was startled by a sound to her right. She turned just in time to see Bram crashing through the forest, mowing down anything in his path, sprinting directly for her. Pure determination on his face. His muscles rippled as he ran with a fluid motion. His eyes fixed solely on her.
Sorcha let out a strangled cry as the adrenalin kicked in. She surged forward, trying to outrun him, but Bram closed the distance so fast she was scrambling to remain out of his reach.
She screamed, “Go away!”
He roared, “You’re mine!”
Sorcha ran straight for a low-hanging tree branch, ducked, pulled it with her, then let it go. She heard a ‘thwacking’ sound, followed by cursing as the branch hit its mark.
She was mentally celebrating her victory, then shrieked in surprise when a muscular arm banded around her waist, hoisted her up in the air and over Bram’s shoulder.
“Put me down you brute!”
“Shut it, wench,” he snarled as he kept running towards the waterfall.
***
THERE WAS AN ENTRANCE to the side which opened to a grotto, with rock pools hidden behind the cascading water. The morning sunlight reflected through the waterfall as flickering strobes of light danced around the cave wall.
Bram placed Sorcha on her feet and walked her backward against the rock-faced wall. Caging her with his body. He was panting, his entire demeanor changed, and his eyes reflected hunger, hunger for her.
“No other man steals my kisses!” he growled as his mouth descended on hers, his tongue demanding entrance.
Sorcha gasped and opened up as their tongues intertwined. She felt completely at his mercy as she felt his hands move under her tunic, pushing the material upward until she felt his bare hands on her flesh.
Bram reluctantly pulled away and gazed at her with intensity.
“I want you, Sorcha, and I’m going to have you.”
“Aye, Bram,” she murmured as she tried to catch her breath.
Bram grabbed the waistline of her trews and slid them down, urging her to remove her clothing. Within seconds Sorcha stood naked before him, her voluptuous breasts a sumptuous feast for his blazing eyes.
Bram reluctantly pulled away from her to view his prize. “You’re beautiful, mo leannan,” he whispered reverently. He removed his leine and untied his trews with deft fingers, letting the garments fall to the floor. His hardened length sprang free and erect. Bram lifted Sorcha into his arms and waded into the rock pool until they were partly submerged. Then he lowered her in as he plunged beneath the surface. When they came up for air, he pulled her into his arms. They were face to face.
Bram stood with the water to his chest while Sorcha straddled his waist, her arms wound about his shoulders, her breasts bobbing just beneath the surface, the peaks stabbing against his chest, their mouths inches apart. Their bodies were wet with glistening water cascading down bare skin. He took Sorcha with a searing kiss. His hands gripped her buttocks, pulled her hard against him as his solid length caressed her inner folds beneath the surface. Bram thrust his hips, ensuring the tip of him bumped against her heated core, causing enough pressure to arouse her senses.
Sorcha moaned at the sensation and gripped Bram’s shoulders tighter as she ground her hips against his length. Bram pulled away from her mouth and kissed a path down her neck to her breast. “Give me your nipple,” he growled.
Sorcha obliged him and lifted her breast, bringing a stiffened peak to his hot, wet mouth. She moaned as the tip of Bram’s tongue stabbed the tip of her nipple several times before his mouth latched over her flesh and he suckled with force.
Sorcha felt as if a line of fire burned its way from her breast to her womb. She threw her head back and gasped for air. Her channel grew slick as Bram kept up the pressure. His breathing was ragged as he pushed harder against her pearl.
She heard a popping sound as Bram’s mouth released its delicate morsel. “The other one,” he snarled, “give it to me!” Sorcha obeyed, lifted her neglected nipple to his mouth as he laved it with his tongue, taking succor from her breast.
Sorcha felt a riot of emotions she had never experienced before. And she knew she would never be the same again. “Ahh... hmm...” she murmured incoherently as Bram lavished attention on her breast while building pressure between her thighs. She writhed against his palm, seeking a completion she was unsure about.
Bram groaned then walked them towards a small ledge at the shallow end of the pool, partly submerged. He was losing all sense of control. He sat her up on the ledge and lay her down, so she was on her back against the stone. Sorcha’s hair hung over the sides, her pert breasts pointed straight up towards him as he stood over her, holding her thighs wide open. Her woman’s core on display, a feast for his hungry eyes. Bram remained standing as the water reached his hips. The stone slab lay just beneath. It was the perfect height bringing her heat in perfect alignment. Bram’s hardened length jutted out, bobbing just beneath the surface, slapping against Sorcha’s burning flesh.
“Look at me Sorcha. I want you to ken who owns you,” he whispered.
Sorcha gazed straight up into his heated eyes and licked her lips as she appreciated the aesthetics of his body. Her hands caressed his brawny arms. She felt positively wicked and alive. She wanted to explore his body in return, so she raised her head and licked his chest.
Bram gave out a strangled cry and eased her back down. “No, love, I will not last with your tongue on me. Another time.” He chuckled when Sorcha pouted in return.
Bram pressed his thumb against her pearl and furiously rubbed her pleasure spot until Sorcha was riding his palm and squeezing her legs together. The sound of water slapping against flesh provided a rhythmic beat to their movements.
“That’s it, love, aye, that’s it, you’re a beauty lass and you’re mine,” he said, urging her on.
Sorcha closed her eyes. Barely able to breathe, she gripped Bram’s arms for purchase.
“Tell me you’re mine!” he growled above her. His hand moving even faster.
“I’m yours,” she shouted, so close to release.
“Then come for me and only me,” he demanded.
With those words and the fury of his palm moving against her flesh, Sorcha came with a scream. She was still climaxing when Bram withdrew his hand and pulled her hips closer to the edge. With heavy lids, Sorcha gazed up at Bram just as his thickened ridge sought entrance.
“I need you love, I’m sorry to take you here, but I need to claim you.” His voice was a plea.
Sorcha looked down between them and spread her legs wider to accommodate him. She glimpsed his shaft, pushing its way into her glistening folds. She languidly gazed directly into his eyes. They were filled with something she had not seen before.
With one mighty surge, Bram thrust all the way inside her slickened sheath, driving home with a groan. Sorcha felt a pinch of pain before she engulfed his length and instantly detonated with another climax.
Bram shouted in ecstasy as the sensations of being inside Sorcha overwhelmed him. He gripped her hips and thrust into her heat repeatedly as he bent forward and licked her nipple. He felt like a conqueror as he pounded relentlessly into his captive while he stood hovering above her. Bram kept repeating, “You’re mine, Sorcha, only mine.”
Sorcha nodded and gripped his arms for purchase, fully submissive to his will. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh reverberated through the grotto. Hidden behind the waterfall from prying eyes, two lovers engaged in an intimate tryst.
Sorcha pushed up on her hips, seeking a deeper connection. She cried out, “Harder, Bram.”
“Aye love, as you wish.”
Bram pulled up her legs, placing the backs of her knees over his shoulders and she was completely at his mercy. He leaned forward, placed his hands on the ledge, and thrust into her with greater force. The new position drove him deeper, and Sorcha was undone. She screamed as her inner core gripped him so hard, she shuddered with yet another fluttering release.
Bram swore, gritted his teeth. He could not hold off any longer. Then he threw his head back, drove in deep and emptied his seed with a deafening roar. He came so hard his entire body was shaking as he jerked several times. His essence overflowed, coating their bodies.
Bram continued to glide his length in and out as he tried to catch his breath and slow the rapid beating of his heart. He released her legs and now lay above her, taking his weight with his elbows slowly pumping in and out.
He leaned his head forward and kissed her deeply. Sorcha wound her arms about his neck and deepened the kiss. They remained intimate, connected as one. Lying on the rock ledge, they began a slow, sensual exploration as they fondled and caressed each other. Coming down off their physical high, they sought to deepen their emotional bond.
Bram had felt nothing like it before. The woman in his arms satisfied him to the core. He could not get enough of her. Bram felt himself hardening again, and Sorcha’s breathing became erratic. Her eyes glazed over, and he knew she was preparing for another bout of coupling. He wondered how he had gotten so lucky. There was no way he was going to leave her unfulfilled as she writhed against his hips, seeking more.
Bram flipped their position while still connected, so she was now straddling him, and he was lying with his back against the ledge. “Ride me, love,” he said as he stared up at her luscious breasts bouncing above his lips. He suckled and gripped her hips, nudging her into motion.
Sorcha proved a quick study and did as he commanded. Submissive to his demands, she rode Bram so hard he could barely breathe he almost blacked out. He pulled her down and held her tight against him as he pounded into her with vigor. The sound of their bodies slapping against water created another layer of aural arousal. Soon they were soaring again into another earth-shattering climax. This time Sorcha’s scream drowned out his shout as she collapsed, exhausted, on top of him.
It was an hour later after they bathed and frolicked in the pool, that they emerged and dressed. Both of them laughing, stealing kisses, and caressing one another. Bram built a fire and they sat beside it for warmth. He knew they had to head back soon, but he wanted to drag out their time together away from prying eyes for as long as possible. Sorcha rested her head on his shoulder, and he had her tucked into his side with an arm about her.
“I took your innocence today, love,” he said. Seriousness marring his features.
“Aye,” she replied.
“I did not take precautions.”
Sorcha stilled, realizing what he meant. She had not even thought about the risk of pregnancy. “Dinnae think about anything beyond this moment,” she said. Too worried about the future to ruin their time together.
“Tis sorry I am. I had no right, you are still just my captive, and as laird, I am not at liberty to marry, but I—”
Sorcha’s back instantly became rigid with the reminder she was just a captive. Nothing could come of this. Once her brothers sorted out this total mess, she would go home to Glenorchy and never return. Bram was making it clear to her, and she would be a fool if she entertained notions of love or any deeper feeling.
She cut him off. “Mayhap we should return to the Keep before your men look for you.”
Sorcha pulled out of his embrace and prepared to leave.
Bram knew he had messed up. Sorcha was distant towards him as they walked back together. He tried to hold her hand, but she walked on ahead. He growled and grabbed it regardless, pulling her closer to him. “Dinnae be angry, lass, please.”
Sorcha saw the regret in his eyes, and she nodded. She bit her lip to prevent words of affection from spilling out. She needed to remember that she was a mere pawn in a rivalry between clans.
Bram knew he had made his life a lot more complicated, especially when there was so much at stake with his clan. He needed time to think, but first, he would return Sorcha to the safety of the cottage, and then he would work out the rest.
When they emerged from the woods together, holding hands, partially wet and looking piqued, Bram noticed people smirking and grinning at them. His actions at the Chasing had revealed his hand, and there were no doubts people had pieced together enough to know how he and Sorcha had spent their time in the woods. His pursuit of Sorcha had indeed ruined her. There was much he needed to make right and much more he had to explain. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.
***
IT WAS TWO DAYS SINCE the Chasing, and Sorcha had seen no sign of Bram. She continued with her chores and slept alone. The villagers smirked or grinned whenever she walked by. Bram had marked her as his mistress and with his neglect, it would appear he was done with her already.
That stung, but she would not regret it. Their lovemaking at the rock pool was a memory she would carry with her for the rest of her days, even if it was just a mere tryst for him. She was even more determined to escape. She needed to return home, for she was homesick and heartsick as well.
***
THAT NIGHT SORCHA REMAINED in her cottage and did not attend the Keep for supper. She made herself a light repast, bathed, and prepared for bed.
She stoked the fire and settled in the chair, carving some arrows from the yew wood as she rummaged. It was closer to midnight when she had a small array of weapons.
Sorcha had just hidden them under the bed and was settling into sleep when she heard footsteps and murmuring outside. The door opened and Bram stepped inside, closing it behind him.
He moved straight to the fire, where he began removing his cloak and then his clothing.
Sorcha sat up. “What are you doing here? Is something amiss in the supper hall?”
“Aye. You.”
“Cease undressing,” Sorcha scowled.
Bram simply dropped his plaid and stood before her, fully nude.
He stalked towards her and said, “I have missed you and I cannot breathe without you.”
Before Sorcha could make head or tail of things, she was flat on her back, naked with Bram’s tongue lodged deep inside her core. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she gripped the bedding. Not long afterward, Bram exploded inside her welcome heat as she cried out with a shuddering release.
Several hours just before dawn, Bram was on his back on the bed, his legs apart as he schooled Sorcha in pleasures of the flesh. “Aye, love, that’s it, it feels so good,” he rasped. He gyrated his hips as Sorcha loved him with her mouth and tongue as her hand pumped his length. Bram could not take any more. He rose, flipped her onto her back, and drove home until they reached completion in each other’s arms.
When Sorcha awoke the next morning, she was in bed alone but felt deliciously sore all over. The fire had been stoked. More wood was by the grate and fresh milk, bread, and cheese were left on the table. She smiled at Bram’s thoughtfulness, and her heart soared when she spotted the small bundle of fragrant wildflowers tied neatly together and placed beside her pillow. Whatever the future held, she would savor this memory forever.
***