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fatigued and distressed body could bear. As his seed spurted into her again, he claimed her lips and kissed her tenderly as she sighed and finally gave in to the black mist that had descended, slipping into a merciful and consuming unconsciousness.
     

Chapter Five
     
     
    When Isobel awoke again, the solar was dark and near silent. Only soft snores - she presumed they must be Alasdair’s, for they came from the bed above her - broke the silence. Isobel was lying atop a wooden pallet at the foot of the bed, one hand chained to the bedpost and a sheet tucked around her bare body.
    Instantly she reached for the manacle around her wrist with her unbound hand, but the iron was tight and unyielding; Isobel realised quickly that it was a waste of her energy trying to force it open. With a heavy sigh, she slumped back into the uncomfortable pallet, a flush spreading across her face as she recalled the events of what she supposed must now be the previous day.
    She had felt such shame at having her body abused so badly in front of so many men, all of whom seemed to take such pleasure from watching her humiliation, but Alasdair’s face was the only one that filled her mind. Squirming uncomfortably, Isobel’s body flooded with a fresh and uncomfortable wave of heat in memory of the pleasures he had so effortlessly shown to her despite her bitter determination to fight against him; she knew, with an unsettling certainty, that the words he had spoken so arrogantly in the hall were true. As much as she detested him for all that he had done to her and Glen Carrick, her treacherous body already yearned for him again.
    As that realisation dawned, that clenching, aching need that he had awoken in her began to build once more. Holding her breath, Isobel listened intently to Alasdair’s gentle snores that convinced her that he was indeed asleep. It seemed that there was no-one else in the solar, and she moistened her lips nervously, astounded at the wicked idea that had come to her. The little nub of pleasure that Alasdair had found and manipulated with such skill had begun to throb insistently as she thought of him, and Isobel was filled with the desire to reach down and touch it, both curious as to whether it would be just as pleasurable now and hoping that if she did so, it would detract from the stinging pain of her buttocks where she had been so thoroughly spanked.
    Her heart racing, beating so loudly in her chest that she was afraid that Alasdair would hear it and awaken, Isobel tentatively reached down with her free hand and brushed her fingers across it. The jolt of arousal that shot through her was so forceful that it was all she could do not to cry out, pulling her hand away to cover her mouth and stifle any moan that might escape it as her hips instinctively rose from the pallet.
    Consumed with the urge to seek out the pleasure that Alasdair had shown her again – pleasure that, before his arrival, she had naively not even known existed – Isobel cautiously slipped her hand underneath the sheet again to mimic the way that Alasdair had touched her, a sharp twist of desire coursing through her body and leading her to forget the need for silence.
    Moaning softly, Isobel writhed against her own hand as her pleasure began to build, her deep flush creeping down to cover her breasts as the sheet slipped down from them, exposing her pointed nipples to the chilled air of the solar. She threw her head back and her eyes closed as she moaned again, the image of Alasdair’s face burned into her mind and only increasing her pleasure.
    Arching her back off the pallet as her legs instinctively parted and the sheet fell away completely, Isobel worked her fingers clumsily against herself, trying to copy the skilful way that Alasdair had done so and becoming swept away in her pleasure; soft, whimpering moans escaping her parted lips as she felt a climax near.
    Suddenly, though, Isobel became aware with a thrill of horror that she could no longer