"I love your body," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin as she smoothed her hands over his ribs and then his upper chest, pushing the cloth until it was gathered up under his chin and arms.
"Mmm," she murmured, smiling, then bent to lick teasingly at his nipple. Cam smiled at her teasing and tried to slide his hands into her hair to draw her up for a kiss, but she evaded his touch and slipped further down his body, her hair dragging down his stomach again, and then gliding over his hip bone before she stopped and peered at his stirring erection.
"What have we here?" she breathed, glancing up to him with wide naughty eyes before dipping down to lash him with her tongue again, this time running it quickly over the head of his hardening cock.
Groaning, Cam reached down again, this time managing to glide his fingers into her hair, but then he stopped, merely cupping her head and gasping as she closed her hand around his shaft and squeezed gently.
Her gaze lifted to him again and she smiled solemnly, and then murmured, "I love you, Cam."
"I love you too," he murmured, waking himself up with his own voice and opening his eyes in time to see Joan take him into her mouth. His eyes widened incredulously as dream became reality, and then squeezed closed on a moan as she drew her mouth down his shaft. She'd asked him to teach her how to pleasure him with her mouth after he'd done it to her once on their journey and he'd tried to instruct her, but she'd always been tentative and unsure in those early efforts. This time she was a woman determined, and Cam squeezed his eyes so tightly closed he almost saw stars as she began to move her mouth up and down on him, her hair tickling his hips and thighs, her hand following her mouth's movement, her breasts brushing his legs just above the knees.
Cam took it as long as he could stand it, but was afraid he was going to lose himself right there in her mouth, and without even having kissed her or otherwise seen to her pleasure. His conscience simply couldn't accept that, and he rose up slightly so that he could catch her by the upper arms, and began to drag her up his body.
Joan came willingly, letting him slip from her mouth and moving up his body to straddle his hips, trapping his erection between their bodies. She raised herself, and clasped him in hand to direct him into her, but Cam caught her hand to stop her. Once she was upright, he'd seen the bruise on her side.
"What are ye doing?" he asked with a frown.
Joan paused and peered at him uncertainly. "I wanted to . . ."
Cam arched his eyebrows when she hesitated and blushed. "Lass, ye can no' possibly want to with yer side the way it is. And yer leg," he added, as he glanced down and noted that her actions must have started it bleeding again. Bright red blood was showing through the linen bandage wrapped around her leg.
"I'm fine," she assured him, shifting her hips to rub herself against him.
Cam stiffened as pleasure shot through him, but then he took note of her expression. There was more determination there than pleasure, he decided grimly, and urged her off of him.
Kneeling beside him, she tried to slip her leg back over his hips, protesting, "But, I want to please you."
Cam stilled and met her gaze. "Love, ye already please me. But ye're no' in any shape fer this. Yer side must be sore, and ye've started yer leg bleeding again. Ye need to rest and recover."
"Nay, I'm fine," she assured him, and reached out to wrap her hand around his still erect penis. "Let me please you, husband."
Cam groaned, but forced her hand away. "Nay, woman. Ye need rest."
"I need you," she insisted, leaning up to kiss him as her hand once again found and clasped him, and slid his length.
Cam was not responding to her kiss, but he was weakening. He could feel it. He wanted to force her to stop and rest, but damned if his cock wasn't opting for another outcome. Growling, he opened his mouth to her, then whipped his head toward the door when a knock sounded.
"Ignore it," Joan said quietly, trying to turn his face back to hers with her free hand. "Let me finish what I started. I--eeeeee," she ended on a squeal and released him to dive under the linens and furs as the door suddenly opened.
"What the devil!" Cam barked as his mother and father and Joan's aunt and uncle trooped into the room one after the other, all of them grim faced. What the devil was happening now? he wondered with irritation. And could they not have waited until later to tell him about it?
Joan poked her head up from under the furs when Cam dropped down beside her. She peered over the edge of the material at the people who had entered, then sat up a bit with surprise. "Uncle Ross? What are you doing here?"
Ross grinned at Annabel and said, "She called me 'Uncle.' "
"Aye, she calls me 'Aunt' most times now too," Annabel told him with a small smile.
"Would someone care to explain why ye've all decided to barge in here while me wife and me are abed?" Cam snapped.
"We have important news," his mother said apologetically.
Laird Sinclair nodded, but then scowled and said, " 'Sides, 'tis the middle of the day, lad. What the devil are ye doing abed anyway?"
"Annabel was injured," Cam reminded him stiffly.
"Aye, she was. That does no' explain why ye're lying about with her." His eyes narrowed. "Ye were no' trying to indulge in some houghmagandie with her when the poor lass is all bruised and beat up, were ye? She's in no shape fer that nonsense."
Cam scowled at his father. "Aye, I ken that! I even told her as much when she tried to have her way with me."
Groaning, Joan pulled the furs back over her head. Well, this was embarrassing.
Cursing as he realized what he'd said, Cam growled, "Just tell us what ye came here for and go so she can rest."
"Laird MacKay arrived this hour past with news," Lady Sinclair murmured quietly.
"Aye?" Cam asked.
"Aye," Ross said. "I sent one o' me men out to search for the cloth merchant after ye all headed to Sinclair. I thought to buy material to bring with me when I collected me wife and daughters."
"Material?" Cam asked with confusion.
"Fer gowns for Joan," he muttered, sounding uncomfortable.
/> "Oh, Uncle, that's so sweet," Joan said, coming up from under the furs to beam at him. Much to her amazement, the man actually blushed and looked even more uncomfortable.
Clearing his throat, he shrugged, and said, "I was no' sure what ye'd like, so I picked what I thought would look best with yer coloring. The men loaded it all on a wagon and we brought it with us. They're unloading it now."
"Thank you," she whispered, tears glazing her eyes at the kindness. Joan wished she was dressed so she could get up and hug the man.
"Surely that is no' the news that was so important ye burst in here to tell us?" Cam asked with a frown.
"Nay," Ross said, straightening. "On his return journey with the merchant, me man came across a fellow dead on the side o' the road. He recognized him as a Sinclair, so--"
"No' Douglas?" Cam interrupted sharply.
"Nay," his father assured him at once. " 'Twas Allistair. Douglas is fine as far as we ken."
"Oh." Cam sighed.
"Me man brought this Allistair back with him, along with his belongings. There was no violence to the body and he seemed to have died a natural death, so I told them to put him in a wagon and I'd return him to Sinclair when I traveled here on the morrow, and then I dealt with the merchant. But once that was done, I saw the men had left the warrior's bag behind. I bent to pick it up and when I opened it and found it was full o' scrolls. Since I was no' sure who they were to or if they were urgent messages, I decided we'd best set out right away rather than wait until morn."
Cam sighed. "Let me guess, the messages were to the families of the women Mother invited here, and we'll be stuck with the wenches fer even longer than we'd feared."
"But some of the girls have already left," Joan said with a frown.
"I sent out three messengers," Lady Sinclair explained. "Some of the lasses live closer than others, so I divided them amongst the men thinking to speed the process along. The messenger who was to deliver the scrolls to the closest families has already returned. They are the families of the girls who have already left us."
"Oh," Joan murmured.
"So ye came to tell us that we'll have some o' the women here longer than we'd hoped?" Cam asked slowly.
"Nay, we came to tell ye that the messenger was poisoned," his father said dryly.