Gillian followed Iain on his heels but the man seemed determined to ignore her existence as he hurried, well, she was sure for him his stride must seem normal but for her they were rather gigantic. How was she supposed to even keep up? She had no choice but to run to gain equal ground and if that made her unladylike then the blame lay entirely on Iain.

Gillian huffed as she raced to reach him; sleep with him; Gillian rolled her eyes, had the man taken leave of his senses? She had to tell the man that she 'could' not; no, that did not sound forceful enough...in fact it sounded as if given a choice she would willingly lay down with him.

Gillian shook her head, no, she definitely would not lay with him. Because it just wasn't right, yes that is it, she was his intended...but not his full-fledged bride yet, of course she might enjoy laying with him, lord knew what adventure that could entail, sleeping in his arms, would he even kiss her?

Gillian covered her face with her hands. Goodness, what was she even thinking? It seemed to her that not Iain but she had taken leave of her till then very reliable senses. What was he doing to her?

She lowered his hands, no, she would not allow it, even if she had consented by mistake to be his bride that did not per say mean she would do everything, he commanded. Aye, it was time to give him a taste of his own bitter medicine.

Gillian just about managed to reach Iain but he continued to tread purposefully towards the camp, blatantly disregarding her. She frowned and for one very brief moment considered kicking him on his ankle but luckily those reliable senses came to her rescue in time before she would have done something she was sure she would have come to regret.

Gillian was sure that Iain would not have retaliated by hitting her, she did not know how she was certain of it but she knew she was, it wasn't as if she knew the man well and it was contrary to what she had heard about the Highlanders. But her entire body and mind agreed with the pertinent fact that Iain would never hurt her.

Oh, he would have done something completely disagreeable. She could very well imagine him picking her up in his arms and taking her so to the camp. She would die of mortification if that were to happen.

Imagine her limp like a doll, what would Mary think?...what would his men think? What kind of impression would that leave? It would be akin to stamping her approval to the fact that Iain believed- that she was weak and that too because she was English. No, Gillian shook her head; she would never be able to live with that.

She was rudely awakened from her thoughts by an odious poke, she found Iain who stood with his hands on his hips, unpleasantly glaring at her.

His closeness made her heart flutter wildly in her chest. His persona seemed to entirely engulf her, she felt oddly at ease, the feeling of being protected washed onto her. It wasn't the same as being with her parents, this feeling was different, and Gillian wasn't sure if she could yet put it into ordinary words. She did not know if she was experienced enough to understand the meaning of her feelings.

If she even wanted to.

It was all new, could she even label them yet, she wasn't sure. All she knew was she felt safe, she felt pure yet feminine, a sensation she now somewhat understood. Being feminine by way of style, clothing, and personality was different than the way a man could make her feel. The complete sense of being wanton, to free herself from all the shackles that bonded her; she was relishing the freedom to be nothing but herself. 

Looking at him, she wanted nothing more than to burrow in his arms, close her eyes, and give in to her wariness deriving her comfort from his.

Iain wanted to lose himself into the woman standing upright in front of him. The pre-dawn with its sleepiness beckoned his very primal senses. He had to get Gillian to move, he was this short of succumbing to his desires. The thought of his promise to her that she would sleep with him was already costing him much more than he could possibly explain to her, he couldn't shock her, he was aware she was an innocent, he would have to pace his lust accordingly, showing her all the gateways, all the routes; unfolding her passion and finding his release within.

Iain knew he had to stop questioning this attraction that existed between them. He might be a warrior, trained to not lay import to any feelings but he was not a fool to deny the existence of something special that did bind them together. He would get time to explore it later, much later when he would be alone, away from his temptress.

He had already tasted her passion and it was taking all his training not to throw her on the ground, on the soft grass preparing to cling imperviously to the untainted, in ordained droplets; and have his delicious way with her, show her how passion could burn between them, to make her tremble and look at her when she would be awashed with pleasure; a release that was bound to leave her surrounded in an aura of unseen radiance.

Iain closed his eyes with an aim to gain control, "What is it, lass?"

Gillian stood unmoved making Iain open his eyes.

"Is everything alright, Gillian?" Iain spoke in a soft tone.

She shrugged," Everything is not fine, Iain."

He looked heavenward praying for angels above, the lass made him speak as many sentences in few seconds as he usually did maybe in two weeks.

"Gillian," he raised his eyebrow and motioned from his hand to blurt out whatever it was that was disturbing her.

Gillian stood demurely, folding her hands in front of her. It wouldn't do her good to annoy him, heaven's knew it was most difficult as it is to talk about this aspect, "You told me I am going to sleep with you..." she trailed off, her blush deepening hoping he would get the drift of the conversation she wanted to partake.

He looked smugly, he looked at her intently, "Aye, I did." Did she have to look so adorable, how was he supposed to even rein in his impious intentions? 

Without thinking, Iain swooped down and as Gillian prepared to launch into one of her diatribes, he captured her lips with his own. The sensation honing them within itself as their lips meshed together. Gillian moved her hand to hold onto his shoulders pulling him closer yet till her breasts brushed against his chest. Iain growled, aroused as he locked his arms around her, urging her to open her mouth.

Iain flicked his tongue tasting her sweetness, took all she had to offer. Gillian's eyes closed on their own. He grazed his tongue along her lips. And Gillian felt it was heaven; she had never thought an act as simple as kissing could bring in her such sensations. She felt famished, ravenous for him. She angled her head, trying to feel the pressure of his lips on hers. She wanted to open her eyes; she wanted to see, wanted to learn but was too steeped in the emotion to even process such a thought.

Hesitantly, she skimmed her tongue touching his with hers and felt herself burn. It was a touch of something forbidden. Utterly enthralling. Iain knees wanted to buckle, if he had thought he was aware of her passion, he had been wrong, of course he considered himself experienced in such matters but now he realized her thirst knew no bounds and when she kissed him back, he couldn't help but be shaken by the force of it. Gillian splayed her fingers on his tunic, caressing his chest; he felt heat spear through his very body. Setting aside restraint, he kissed her hungrily, thoroughly devouring her.

Only when she moaned did he realize where they were, what he was doing to her or more like what she was doing to him.

He let her take a step back but without relinquishing his hold on her, relishing the fact that her breath came in gasps of air, knowing well he had marked her his; he placed sweet kisses on her lips before letting his face slide across hers down to her collar bone where in his tongue lightly skimmed across her collarbone making her shiver in anticipation.

"Lass," he breathed and Gillian could feel his breath on her very skin, making her feel very warm.

"Iain," Gillian whispered holding onto him, not willing to let him go just yet.

She felt his lips which were on her neck now curve into a smile," Earlier you wanted to talk to me about something, isn't it?"

"Ah! I did?" Gillian eyes were still glazed over with longing.

"Aye," he lifted his head to look into her eyes.

Gillian shook her head," I don't remember." It was the truth his kisses did turn her into a blithering idiot. She did not know when she would get used to them. Maybe never was the most probable answer.

The answer pleased him, it just wouldn't do to have him affected senselessly by the kisses but seeing her more affected soothed his masculinity. The way she looked right then, all flustered; he longed to have his way with her but odiously opined for a grumpy façade. Aye, if he couldn't have another taste of her then he had no business to sound all happy.

"Come, then let's head back," Iain said in a gruff tone and once again took the lead towards the camp.

Gillian felt a little hurt, after sharing that kind of intimacy she was expecting praise or maybe yet another kiss but she had definitely not expected such a broody attitude.

They reached the camp side and she noted a big bonfire made right in between of the area currently occupied by Iain's men. The clearing was surrounded by trees and grasses, some that grew till her waist. She could hear the soft swishes of the stream and neighs from the horses. I seemed too pleasant to her, she had never expected herself to sleep out in the open surrounded by nothing but the sky. She tilted her head up and smiled as she found the sky swashed with last shreds of darkness, the sky already turning into what she knew would be endearing colours of pink, orange and blue. She decided she could live there forever.

She looked around, the men did not appear to be too sleepy, they simply lounged around. Mary lay onto one side on what it seemed like a rug with a plaid covering her body. She looked cozy and content. With an aim to ignore the laird, as he had been doing her she moved towards Mary. If he wanted to share his rug with her, he had to come to her; it would freeze in hell before she decided she join him.

With that thought festered in her mind, she looked around and found Iain nodding to Patrick. Patrick came rushing towards her and to lay a rug for her next to Mary.

"Rest, my lady, we leave in few hours," Patrick brushed away the wrinkles on the rug and handed over a plaid similar to the one covering Mary to her.

Gillian thanked him and turned her head as she heard heard shuffling and saw Mary sitting up," Milady, would you be needing anything?"

"No, Mary, please rest, I need nothing," Gillian appeased Mary and sat on the rug, covering her legs with the plaid.

She found her gaze centred on Iain. The man did not appear as if he would be joining her. Just then a horrid thought crossed her mind, her stomach tightened, not pleasantly; was his dark brooding self an indication that he did not find her apt in the act of kissing? Did he not find her adequate enough?

The thought took up her entire being, she found herself sinking deep into the pit holes of humiliation and embarrassment.

................

Hello my darlings,

I missed you all so much...Did you miss me? Of course, you did. How could you not miss your beautiful author, isn't it?! *winks* I am extremely sorry for the delay in posting the chapter. Well, I am late by just about four months. *smiles sheepishly* Haha. I truly apologize. *Touches ears* But I am hopeful that life would invariably give me ample time to pen my delicious thoughts, after all, yes, even Iain and Gillian do need some loving and maybe something much more wicked than just loving.... *blushes endearingly*

And needless to say but I am crazy about you; crazy about each one of you. You carry my heart. Muah! *blows a pretty kiss*

Warmest Regards,

HIndia150