Total pages in book: 10
Estimated words: 8504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 43(@200wpm)___ 34(@250wpm)___ 28(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 8504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 43(@200wpm)___ 34(@250wpm)___ 28(@300wpm)
“Culloden Alastair James Stewart, at yer service.” I sweep into a bow for her. She looks at me like I’m crazy. “yer sister sent me,” I add.
“Islay? Where is she?” she asks, looking around me.
“She isnae here. I am laird here now.”
“A Stewart ruling over Brodie lands? Surely ye jest,” she says angrily.
“I have a decree from the king. There are no men to work these fields, Daracha. The land will die.”
“I see,” she says primly, causing me to smile.
“What do ye see?”
“Ye should go before it is too late, Stewart.” She says my name like a curse, and even that makes me smile. “There is a pestilence here,” she says, no longer remembering to cover herself. Her glorious breasts swing free. I lick my lips and will my cock to go down, but I am afraid it ne’er will. Not while she be around me. I can already tell she will be the air I breathe. She hasnae an ounce of shame, and I love it.
“Ye didnae get whatever pestilence was here, lass. I think I shall be fine,” I say, planting my hands on my hips.
“I want to see my sister,” she says haughtily. She willnae be easily tamed, if I ever can, but it will be fun trying.
“Nae lass. There is a fierce storm coming. We must stay indoors for at least a week before it will be safe to travel. Have ye any food?” I ask, wondering if I need to go hunting before the worse of the storm sets in.
“Of course, my lord. Our larders are full, not a lot of meat, but there be plenty of everything else,” she says, rising from her bed. Her fully naked form comes into view, and my mouth simultaneously waters and dries up. How can that be? It will be our bed if I have my way, and I always have my way. Even though she hates me and probably all Stewarts, her good breeding will ensure I ne’er starve. “Of course, the cook has passed on, but I make do.” She moves away from the bed to stand in front of the fireplace. A good six or seven feet from the bed. Her long legs are just as pale as the rest of her. Her freckles are prominent all over her body. So many kisses, so little time. Fook, my cock is likely to punch a hole through my kilt, and there be naething I can do about it.
“Ye do realize ye have no clothes on,” I say dryly. Her hourglass figure is ripe and ready for my touch. Curves on a woman are just about the best fooking thing on God’s green Earth. Not that I have any before now.
“I apologize, my lord. I have no excuse. Can I prepare ye something?” She drops into a curtsey and stares at the floor.
“ye will call me Culloden. I dinnae require food right now, lass,” I reply, my voice thick, almost unrecognizable to my own ears. Her head pops up, and our eyes meet. The fire in the hearth sparks, making her jump.
“What do ye require My Lord?” she asks, her voice breathy and sultry.
“Culloden. My name is Culloden. Say my name,” I demand, leaving no room for refusal.
“Culloden,” she purrs.
Striding toward her, I stop when I am but a breath away from her. She smells like sunshine and pine. She squeezes her thighs together, and what verra little restraint I possess snaps. I reach out my hand and tangle it in her hair. She sucks in a breath and exhales a moan. She has just sealed her fate. Wrapping her mane tightly around my fist, I drag her ass back to the bed. She moans again, and I have no doubt she will be like fire in bed too.
“I willnae sleep with ye,” she says angrily. “I am saving myself for my husband.” I dinnae ken when it happened, but now I willnae accept any other outcome. This bonnie lass will be my bride.
“Who the fook said anything about sleeping, Daracha. I certainly didnae, but dinnae worry, yer husband is here,” I reply before snaking my tongue up the contour of her delicate neck to her ear. She shivers, and I feel her submit to me. “That would be me, lass. Yer mine now, mo ghràdh,” I whisper. With her hair still wrapped around my fist, I guide her head to face me.
“What are ye doing to me, Culloden,” she moans.
“Owning ye,” I reply before savagely kissing her no longer blue lips.
Daracha Brodie is mine.
CHAPTER 2
DARACHA BRODIE
Growing up, my parents and sister, Islay, loved me to excess and to my detriment. I was the spoiled daughter of the Brodie laird, Alister, and his lady, Ailsa. I ne’er wanted for anything, and I didnae work a day in my life. I was an awful lass, and I dared anyone to try and stop me. I didnae deserve anything that was handed to me. Years ago, I was told I would marry the scarred Stewart son while Islay would marry Stewart’s second son. That wasnae right. I couldnae exactly put my finger on why it wasnae, though. Our father and the old Stewart laird prepared the betrothal agreements, but I threw the biggest tantrum. I couldnae imagine marrying the scarred laird. I made it seem like I was disgusted by his looks and the rumors that swirled around about him. I am not that shallow, however. I kenned he wasnae the man for me, maybe I am a witch, but those rumors about Islay and I came later. I went about being my spoiled self while everyone else in my clan worked hard for what we had. I doona ken why I felt so entitled, but I did, and my family indulged me. They should have punished me for my un-Christianly way, but they didnae. I grew up like that and began to hate what I had become. I was in the process of changing my ways when tragedy struck.