tagRomanceLaird of the Loch

Laird of the Loch


I was completely worn as I entered the glade to bathe in the loch. For the past several weeks I had done nothing but act as an aide to some English general or another as I attempted to ferret out troop movements and other valuable information that might help my own countrymen in this endless and brutal war. When I could slip away, I would quietly enter the Scottish camp and report my findings. Sometimes I was able to stay and rest for a few days among friends before I had to once again don my masculine attire and become a boy. Usually, I was required to immediately leave as quietly as I had arrived before the English officers missed me.

Tonight I had arrived back in camp in my usual state of filth. While most of the English officers and soldiers took me at face value, the dirt and grime worked well to mask any feminine characteristics to more discerning individuals who thought to take a closer look. My perpetual lack of cleanliness did not endear me to the men on either side and I was given a wide berth.

It was with a heavy heart that I returned to camp. Upon my arrival, I had reported what little information that I possessed, but I did not believe that it would alter the final outcome. I knew in my heart that the Highlanders would be thoroughly beaten in the battle tomorrow. My brief career as a spy was, apparently, at an end. I had a suspicion that my life would soon follow my career and cease on the morrow as well.

Released from my duties for now, I was at finally at my leisure. My first order of business was to remove all traces of the sweat and dirt that coated my person. Not wishing to delay my bath, I quickly grabbed my soap, brush, plaid and shift. Most of the men had already retired by this late hour and I felt certain that I would need nothing more than my shift and plaid after I had completed my toilette.

Stripping out of my breeches, peasant shirt and the bindings that flattened my chest I immediately jumped into the loch. Only the middle of April, the loch was, of course, freezing, but I didn't care. My only concern for the moment was obtaining my usual, non-mission state of cleanliness. Soaping my hair and body repeatedly, I attempted to remove all traces of foulness.

Finally satisfied, I left the loch, shivering in the late evening air. My nipples immediately puckered in the cold as I cursed myself for forgetting my drying cloth. Giving it up as a bad deal, I simply squeezed into my shift, water and all. I did not want to soak my plaid for tonight promised to be cold. I did not relish lying under a cold, wet plaid for the night. Certainly, I wasn't going to even attempt to use any portion of my previous clothing for anything. I swore I was going to burn those clothes they stunk so badly. That was, of course, if I could even bring myself to touch them ever again. I may even leave them where they lie. Let some wild animal come upon them and take them where they will.

Sitting on the bank, I began to work the tangles from my hair. With all of the waves and curls, my hair did not untangle easily and I worked for several minutes removing knots and kinks. The brushing soothed me and I continued to smooth my hair with the brush long after I had removed all tangles. Having had it bound for so long, it felt good to allow my hair to cascade down my back.

While I sat next to the loch calmly brushing my hair I heard a cascade of stones scatter down the bank. I quickly rose and spun, looking behind me, the brush poised in the air mid-stroke. Frozen in place, I saw Ian MacGregor standing behind me appearing startled. I had not figured to find anyone else at the loch this late and, apparently neither had he since he was wearing nothing more than a shirt.

Calmly, I turned back towards the loch, picking up my plaid and wrapping it around my shoulders for modesty. I was not worried about the man behind me. Not only was I within shouting distance of my cousin, Laird Gregor MacKenzie, but I also knew him to be a man of honour. Ian had been with the army for almost as long as I. As the assistant horse master, I often came into contact with him, although I was certain that he had paid me no mind. I could not even be certain that he knew I was a woman. In my current state of undress, there could be little question on that point at this juncture. Wet from my bath, my nearly invisible shift clung to my breasts and hips, outlining everything in between.

While I was covering myself and completing my grooming, he had moved closer. Turning, I gazed upon the man who had held some fascination for me throughout the weeks. He was very tall and strongly built. His black hair was straight and hung to his shoulders this evening. His startlingly blue eyes were framed by thick, black lashes that made him appear as though he was wearing kohl. High cheekbones and a long straight nose completed the image of masculine beauty. Uncovered as he was, I could see his strong, well muscled thighs. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and the laces undone, allowing me an almost uninhibited view of his upper body. His chest and abdomen were well defined, making my palms itch to run them down his temptingly bare flesh.

Apparently my admiration was returned for when I followed the thin line of hair that started just below his naval I found his penis was no longer covered by his shirt and rising defiantly from a thicket of black hair. Immediately I felt something hot and liquid settle in my loins. I wanted this man, I admitted, despite the fact that I would be quite ruined. Licking my lips, I felt my breath begin to come faster and heavier. Looking up I again met those arresting eyes.

"Pray forgive me, Lady. I mean no disrespect. You have caught me quite unawares and your beauty has enchanted me," he explained in a deep rich voice. Shifting his clothing to hide his growing erection, he looked uncomfortable, as though he had not intended to admit his feelings to me. For certain, he was as affected by me as I was by him.

Half smiling, I replied softly, "I have my doubts that you would be so foolish as to purposely accost me. It would be madness to rape a lady here, so close to kin."

Immediately he appeared angry and I realized that I had inadvertently insulted him. "Rape!?" he exclaimed, suddenly irritated. "Madam, I expect that you risk more while you are away spying on the English!" I could hardly argue that point. I had indeed risked far more during my time as a spy.

Remaining calm, I replied, "I did not mean to question your morals, mon," attempting to placate his temper. "I know you weren't expecting to find me here, and half naked at that." I had not meant to cast aspersions on his honour and was sorry to have caused a rift between us.

"Up until about five minutes ago, I though you were a lad," he admitted, placated. "You're not a lad." He provided that bit of wisdom as his roaming gaze swept me from head to toes, obviously admiring my form through the layers of my plaid and shift.

Feeling my blood heat again, I attempted to converse with him on an even level. "No, not really," I said, as if it were not obvious from my near naked state. "As you've already pointed out, I play a very dangerous game. At the onset of this adventure I decided I would much rather play the camp aide rather than the camp follower." The thought of becoming a whore, even to obtain vital information, made my blood run cold.

"...And if you're caught? You might soon find yourself playing the whore despite your best intentions," he pointed out, mirroring my thoughts.

"At this juncture, the point is moot since I won't be going back," I informed him, moving closer, drawn like a moth to a flame. "Tomorrow, ah tomorrow," I could not help but sigh as I thought about the upcoming battle. "I don't feel as though I will fare well." Despite my attempts, I could not keep the sadness from my voice. I could see an answering sadness in his eyes, as he too contemplated the upcoming fray. He did not appear to be any more optimistic about his ability to survive than I.

"I don't expect that I would have fared well had I been caught, however," I continued, shrugging as I answered the intent behind his question. "I suppose that rape would have been the least of my worries, hanging being the usual punishment for traitors." In actuality I thought that I might prefer to be hanged than raped. A woman can suffer only one death but rape could continue on until the damage was too severe to survive.

He did not appear to be happy with the thought of my death however. A myriad of thoughts passed over his face when he suddenly asked, "How old are you, anyway?"

"Old enough to know better than to stand here talking to a mon in nothing more than a wet shift and ragged plaid," I answered me with a knowing smile. I knew that if I were caught my reputation would be in tatters. His eyes traveled down the length of my body again, coming to rest on my chest. Looking down as well, I noticed that at some point, my plaid had slipped, exposing my breast encased in that nearly transparent shift. With a shaking hand, he reached to grasp my plaid and settle it over my shoulder again, hiding my breast from his view. Looking up, I could see the raw lust in his eyes, sending the heat in my body up another few degrees.

"Milady, you really should go back to the safety of your kin. While I have enjoyed this interlude I find myself quickly losing control of my baser desires." His voice had taken on a desperate edge that I was finding quite intoxicating.

"I can see that," I replied, my gaze resting on the tails of his shirt where once again his erection had escaped the confines of his clothing. If possible, I grew even more aroused. I could swear, also, that I saw his control slip another notch and it appeared as though his hardened shaft became even harder under my regard.

"Milady, please," he gasped hoarsely as he followed the direction of my gaze. "If you knew my thoughts you would find me no gentleman."

"Tonight, I find myself no lady," I replied, not caring in the least. I would not squander the time left to me with maidenly reservations.

"Dear God! You test me lady. I am hanging onto my control with my fingernails!" The desperation was becoming even more apparent in his impassioned speech.

"I know you have no knowledge of me, but I have watched you while I am in camp. I know you to be a good mon, Ian MacGregor," I told him, running my fingers down his chest. The time for games had ended. I wanted this man and it was obvious that he wanted me as well. He attempted to put more space between us but I would not allow it.

"I would forget this war for a time tonight," I told him quietly. For a time, I just wanted to be Kincaid, a woman. I wanted to forget my cares and give in to the desire coursing through my veins.

"...But your reputation...," he said, as a last ditch effort to protect the virtue that I no longer cared about.

Angry at both the circumstances and the constraints placed on Ladies, I exclaimed, "Be damned my reputation! I don't expect to live out the rest of tomorrow. For a time I would have peace." Unable to look him straight in the eye for fear of finding rejection, I peered at him sideways, my head down, begging with my eyes for him to please understand.

His restraint broken, he gasped, "Mother of God," crushing me against his chest. His mouth took mine in a brutal kiss that made my stomach drop. I had been kissed before, but never with such unrestrained passion. Moaning deep in my throat, I pressed myself more tightly against him, unable to get close enough. The kiss seemed to last an eternity but eventually I came to my senses as he gentled his kiss, rubbing his hands down my arms. Against my will he gently pulled away. Reluctant to let him go I attempted to regain contact with him but he gently resisted.

"We can't do this here," he explained. "Anyone might come along." I could not fault him for his observation, although I was so excited that I was almost panting. Despite my reluctance to lose contact with him, however, I did not wish to be interrupted and quickly stopped resisting.

At some point I must have lost the plaid off of my shoulders because he bent down and picked it up, wrapping it around my shoulders. Before I knew what he was about, he picked me up as well, heading away from camp. I snuggled into his chest, held by his strong arms. His strong, clean masculine scent was driving me to distraction.

Ian soon found an abandoned croft and entered. Removing the plaid from around my shoulders, he quickly spread it on the lone bed he found within. Laying me gently on my plaid, he quickly followed me down, lying beside me. As soon as we were settled, he began kissing me in that heady way again. I nearly went up in flames. He put slight pressure on my jaw until, confused, I open my mouth. Immediately his tongue was in my mouth, stroking my tongue. Unsure exactly what to do, I went with my instincts and began to match each thrust of his tongue with one of my own. Judging from his groan and the increased pace of his kisses, he approved of my actions. I could feel the velvet steel of his engorged shaft against my thigh. Need coursed through my body, eliciting unfamiliar responses. I couldn't get close enough too him, attempting to crawl within his very skin.

He again pulled away from me and I protested until he began to kiss a trail down my neck. His warm callused hands cupped my swollen breasts and then began to caress them. Panting by this time, I thought I would explode. Kissing and biting me gently, he continued his path down to my aching breasts. Untried as I was, I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted but I felt a restless ache in the very center of me that I thought would cause me to lose my mind if it went unresolved. When he began to lick and suck my nipples through my shift I couldn't seem to get enough. My nipples were so hard from his ministrations that they felt like stones.

Rearing back suddenly, he grasped my shift at the neck and ripped it down the middle, baring my entire body to his hungry eyes. Breathing hoarsely, he continued to stroke, caress, lick and bite every inch of my breasts. Soon after, he ripped his own shirt from his body and I felt his hot lithe form against my own with no barrier. The sensation was beyond compare to any I had experienced before. Moaning, I was nearly screaming with my passion.

I thought I could go no higher until he began to lick his way down my belly. Settling himself between my thighs, he opened my legs to his questing fingers. I nearly bucked him off the bed when he found the center of me and inserted his fingers inside. The sensations were unbelievable.

I thought I could stand no more but I was wrong. Spreading my thighs further, he began to lick his way towards my swollen cleft. When he began to lick there I thought I would swoon. I did not believe it was possible, but the sensations were even more intense. Nearly insensible I writhed and moaned in ecstasy reaching for some unknown pinnacle.

"Come for me, my love, come," he whispered in my ear. "I will be right here with you."

Shuttering and nearly crying, I felt the most sensational spasms begin within my very core, carrying me over some unknown precipice as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through my body.

Eventually the waves diminished and I curled around him, unable to move further after such a shattering experience. I was not completely ignorant and had been schooled on what happened between a woman and a man, but never in my wildest dreams had I imagined this. I never knew there would be such pleasure and that a man might use his mouth in such a way. It was more unbelievable that, even after I had been pleasured so thoroughly, I would want him again so soon.

I began to kiss him again, reveling in the sensations, knowing where they would lead. Also, I knew that he had not achieved that great pleasure I had received. I only hoped that I could make him feel the same as I had.

"Would you feel the same way if I did all those things to you," I asked breathlessly as my arousal again increased. Distracted as I licked and kissed his throat, Ian could only nod, groaning as I worked my way down his chest to suckle his nipples. Wondering how far he would let me continue, I began to lick and bite my way down to his abdomen. I could feel those taut muscles ripple beneath my questing tongue. Throwing all caution to the wind, I took his tumescent rod into my mouth and began to lick and suck him.

Not long after he pulled me away from him, his passion filled voice informing me, "Not yet, my love. Not yet. Somehow, I will give you your pleasure at least once more before I allow my own."

Attempting to protest that this was unfair to him, all thought fled my mind and he rolled me beneath him, stroking my sensitive flesh with his fingers. I was soon a panting, boneless mass in his arms. Suddenly, my second orgasm came on, blinding me with its intensity. As I arched up in my release I could feel his fingers sink even deeper in to me.

Before the last spasms subsided I heard him moan, "Oh God, sweetheart, I cannot wait any longer." Gently placing himself between my thighs, he entered me slowly. I knew what was to happen next and was prepared for the pain. I had nothing to compare him to, but as big as he was, I figured that the pain would be rather intense. Rearing back, he rendered my maidenhead in one swift thrust and then froze, buried to the hilt in my virginal sheath.

"I'm sorry," he told me quietly. "The pain will stop soon."

"I'm fine. I've experienced worse pain," I replied softly. "Don't stop now." I had felt the membrane tear painfully, but I was not prepared to have him stop. Having allowed me to reach my release twice before seeking pleasure for himself, I could do nothing less for him.

Slowly he began to thrust into me and the pain started to ease, leaving in its wake that burning ache. Moaning, I began to match his measured strokes, wordlessly encouraging him to increase his pace. His strokes became faster and harder until I had nearly reached that pinnacle again.

"Come with me now, love, come to me," he begged me, groaning. Arching against him in my own release, I could feel him pouring his hot seed into me, driving my pleasure even further.

Several times throughout the rest of the night we came together, sleeping between bouts of passion. I could not get enough of the feelings of security I experienced in his arms as we lie together. As sore as I was, I could not resist the intense desire I experienced every time I woke to find him next to me. Every time we coupled he brought me back to that crest to which I gladly surrendered each time.

Between bouts of pleasure and security, the night passed swiftly. As daylight began to show on the eastern horizon, I knew that I had to leave him, despite my dearest wish to remain secure in his arms for the rest of my life. Rising, I gazed upon the proof of my innocence staining my plaid impartially. Coward that I was, I could not bear to wake him and see the sadness in his eyes as we faced our uncertain futures. I would rather remember those amazing eyes clouded with passion. With this in mind, I left my plaid under his slumbering form. My shift was useless after last night and I left that as well.

Naked, I slipped from the croft and ran down to the loch. My clothing from last night remained beside the loch. Distastefully, I picked up those soiled clothes and attempted to wash them in the loch. Better that I would wear them wet than in the condition I had left them last night. I certainly could not have walked into camp naked. That was a risk that I was not prepared to take.

Dressing quickly and gathering up my soap and brush, I slipped quietly into the camp. Finally within my own tent I shed my soaked clothing and exchanged it for dry breeches and shirt. My masculine clothing would serve me far better in the battle today.

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byKittyWithClaws© 4 comments/ 10939 views/ 7 favorites

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