Chapter Text
“Drink the water, lass.”
Dougal’s command singed my skin and he raised his eyebrows at me. I met his eyes and obeyed.
“Good,” he said. “Have ye not made an oath as my wife to be faithful to me?”
I reeled back in surprise. “What?”
“Have ye not promised yerself to me before God?” he growled impatiently.
“Yes,” I replied, still not understanding. “Dougal, what’s this about?”
“I’m too old to be played the fool, lass. You’ll get nowhere lying to me now. You’ve drank the water, now tell me the truth. Have you been whoring around with my nephew?”
“The child?? How could you – Colum’s son? Why –” I wondered whether something had gotten into the water.
“Don’t be daft, woman,” he ground out, growing more and more agitated. “Have you opened your legs for Jamie?”
I stood frozen in astonishment, mouth agape. “With Jamie? Why would you ask -”
“Answer. The. Question.”
I met his eyes defiantly. “No.”
“No?” he mocked.
“No,” I challenged. “You said it yourself, I’ve drank from the spring. We both know I cannot be untrue.”
He visibly relaxed, and as he did I felt a surge of rage. He reached for me and I pulled away violently.
“Do not touch me, Dougal Mackenzie,” I spit fiercely.
His hand stilled, hovering over my arm. He seemed shocked by my anger, which enraged me further.
“How dare you, how could you even assume – and with your nephew? Do you really think so low of me?”
“Of course not, my love. I -” he began.
“Love? I am not your love, Dougal Mackenzie. And if I was, you have a funny way of showing it.” My words wounded him, but I could see the fire building in his eyes as they met mine.
“Not my love? Is that so, lass?” He began circling me like prey. I tried to suppress the shivers that ran up my spine as he stalked around me, but by the smirk he shot me he had caught my reaction.
“Why don’t I remind you how thoroughly I have loved you,” he grew closer to me, till I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His breath puffed hotly into my ear, making me shudder and close my eyes. “How my fingers have grazed your body, touched every part of you. How my tongue has tasted you, savored your flavor.” He licked his lips and the tip of his tongue brushed my ear. I felt my knees grow weak. “Tell me Claire Mackenzie, do you remember how it felt when I claimed you as mine?”
“Yes,” I gasped breathlessly, barely able to speak. My whole body trembled under his intense stare. That was the catalyst. He grabbed my arm, whipped me around to face him, and crushed his lips into mine. He bit at my lips, demanding entrance, and I yielded eagerly, opening my well-dentisted chompers for him. Our bodies melded, every part of me touching as much of him as I could reach. My hands moved from clawing at his back to ripping open his shirt, the ties tearing at the seams. My fingers raked through the coarse, gray hair on his chest, yanking to elicit a moan from between our mouths. One of his large hands ran through my dark curls and the other gripped my waist, as if he never wanted to let me go. I broke away for air, chest heaving and sweaty.
“Oh Dougal,” I moaned, “touch me. Please. I need you.” Although he was equally breathless, he managed to retain his smug demeanor.
“And where should I touch you, lass? Here?” He ran a hand over my cheek, which I leaned into. “Here?” His hand fell to caress the tops of my breasts. His other hand began to deftly undo the front of my dress. The hand on my breasts then moved to grip my hip and tug me into his, flush up against his damp tartan. “Here?” I gasped in pleasure. My stays fell away to expose my breasts, my nipples puckering in the cold air. His hands were instantly upon them, and I threw my head back and groaned. “Here?”
“Dougal, please!” I cried out.
“Please what?” he asked, infuriatingly calm.
“You bastard. Fuck me!”
“I’m afraid I don’t take yer meaning, lass.”
I groaned in frustration. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Get inside me this instant.”
He chuckled, “Just as ye say.”