by Jenna Stone
`”Do ye ken how hard it is for me tae tell ye no? Can ye no see how ye affect me?” he asked, fingers skimming over the skin of my neck. His eyes were hooded, and he looked tortured.
“Then don’t fight it anymore, Devon,” I said, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles.
Devon pulled me close and spoke into my hair, “I plan to fight like hell to return to ye, and if I ken that this is waiting for me when I return, there is nothing that will keep me from coming home tae ye, Kate,” he said heatedly, eyes imploring me to understand. “I want ye sae bad that it’s about to kill me.”
I pushed away from him suddenly so that I could look up at his face.
“Then don’t wait! What if you don’t come back?” I said, challenging him. I did not like the feeling of his rebuff, his flat refusal to consummate our marriage. I wanted to make love to this beautiful man who was mine. I wanted to be completely his.
. He wrapped his arms around my back, stroking me gently.
“I’ll think of ye day and night until I return to ye,” he vowed, still stroking my back. “A chuisle mo chroi,” he whispered against my hair as he pressed me against his body. His repressed desire for me was evident, throbbing against my belly. I knew that denying himself in this way must be painful.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” I whispered into his chest, resigning myself to the fact that he was not going to give in to his desire. I pulled away slightly so that I could look up into his green eyes. “What did you say, what did that mean?” I asked, curious about the Gaelic phrase that he had said.
“A chuisle mo chroi,” he said simply. “In Gaelic, it means pulse of my heart.”
I kissed him again gently, my heart melting. As I looked up at my husband, I knew that I was in deep trouble. There was no way that I could leave this man.
I have to tell him.
My body thrummed with adrenaline from his touch, and from the realization that I had to tell him about my Father, about Katherine Berkshire. Will he reject me for lying to him, for keeping these secrets?
A heavy pang of guilt tugged at my conscious,and my lips were silenced before I had a chance to get my confession out. His lips were on mine, demanding, possessing. I opened my mouth in response to his kiss, knowing that entrance to my mouth was what he desired. His tongue drove into my mouth, tasting me and staking claim to what was his.
“Tae the bed,” he ordered huskily, breaking away from me and undoing the tie on my dressing gown.
My heart soared. He has changed his mind! A sudden terror overtook me when I thought about what was going to take place between us. I wanted him badly, I knew that it was only his touch that could quell this unknown burning within me, but at the same time, I was scared. I had never known a man’s touch, and the stories of pain flew to the forefront of my mind.
Boldly, I walked towards the massive bed, willing my knees to hold out as they quivered with anticipation and a tinge of fear.
Will he be gentle with me?
I was both terrified and exhilarated by the thought of making love to Devon.
I stood at the edge of the bed, and looked over my shoulder at Devon, who stood still as a statue in front of the fire. His eyes were clouded with desire, and the muscles of his chest were tense. Daily drills and training with his men had sculpted his body into that of an Adonis. I still couldn’t believe that this beautiful man was really mine. Mine to touch, mine to admire.
Feeling bold, I held his gaze as I slid my fingers under the hem of his billowing white shirt and began to inch it up ever so slowly over my thighs.
“Nay, leave that on,” he ordered. “I want tae touch ye with it on,” he said, closing the distance between us and sliding his hand up underneath the shirt to palm my bottom. “Mmm, ye feel sae good, Kate,” he groaned, cupping my cheek and then grazing his fingers lightly over my sex as he moved his hand to cup the other side of my bottom.
My breathing was heavy from his intimate touch. The faint touch of his fingers as they had passed over the junction of my thighs had sent shivers up my spine and I now realized that my knees had in fact given out. Devon was supporting me with one arm, crushing me to his chest as he nuzzled my neck and continued to toy with my bottom. His touch felt so good, so right.
I wanted more from him. The dull burning between my thighs was now a raging fire that he continued to stoke with each expert pass of his fingers.
He lifted me now and settled me in the middle of the enormous bed. I needed his touch. Beneath his fingers I felt uninhibited, I was unafraid. I bit my lip now as I looked up at him, I wanted him badly.
“Ye canna do that, Kate,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “I’ve told ye that it drives me mad and I’m still trying tae be a gentleman.”
“I don’t think a gentleman touches ladies the way you just touched me,” I taunted him, seeking to spur him on.
“Nay, a gentleman doesna touch ladies the way that I just touched ye, but he does touch his wife that way,” he said, eyes mischievous and burning with lust.
“I liked the way that you were touching me, Devon,” I said, biting my lip again, this time intentionally.
“Aye, I ken that ye did and that pleases me greatly,” he said huskily, joining me on the bed now. “I never want ye tae be afraid of me, Kate,” he said, lowering his lips to mine, kissing me gently, softly as he trailed his fingers slowly from my ankle up to the top of my thigh.
His fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt that I was wearing, stroking my skin and dancing closer to the junction of my thighs as he deepened our kiss. I wanted him to touch me, to touch me there. His hand slid away from my heat and palmed my bottom, squeezing slightly. I writhed against him, unabashed by my desire for him as he trailed kisses down my neck and I raked my fingernails down the skin of his back.
“Do ye want me tae touch ye, Kate?” he asked, releasing my bottom and skimming his fingertips over my flushed skin, towards the heat of my desire.
“Yes,” I whispered, breathlessly, head spinning from the new feelings that his touch had evoked.
“Say it then. Tell me what ye want,” he said, eyes locked with mine.
“I want you to touch me,” I whispered unashamed of my desire as I looked into his eyes.
Devon watched me as his fingers danced ever so lightly over the curls that were shielding my womanhood. He moved his hand away and I gasped, not wanting him to stop the sweet torment. He smiled devilishly at my response, knowing that I longed for him to touch me again. His hand slid up my bent leg to rest on my knee, which he tilted out, opening me further to his touch.
His fingers were on me again, flitting lightly over the curls at the junction of my thighs. I moaned in response to his touch and raised my hips toward his hand. He pulled his hand away again, tormenting me.
“Open yer legs for me, Kate,” he whispered hungrily. Without hesitation, I did as he asked.
Fire shot through my body as his fingers parted my folds and caressed my most sensitive skin for the first time.
“Yer sae wet for me baby. I’m pleased,” he said, struggling to remain in control as he touched me. “That feels sae good doesn’t it?” he asked.
My only response was a whimper. His expert fingers massaged the bead of my desire, stroking and toying with the wetness that was between my thighs. My body began to quiver uncontrollably and I wasn’t sure what was happening. Suddenly, he pulled his hand away and I gasped in response. I only knew that I needed more of his touch. I needed more of him.
My hands were frantic, and I caught him behind his neck, pulling him down towards me, claiming his lips with demanding kisses. His shortly cropped hair felt foreign beneath my fingers and I grabbed at it desperately as we kissed.
“Not yet, he whispered. I’m not done with ye,” he chuckled, pulling away again. “Open for me,” he ordered.
I gasped when his finger slid inside of me, never having felt such intense all consuming pleasure. I kissed his lips and clawed the skin of his back, now mad with des
ire. Slowly, he withdrew his finger and then slid it back inside of me. A groan of pleasure escaped from my lips, and again, I felt my body begin to tremble around his finger.
“Not yet,” he whispered, teasing now as he again withdrew his finger.
“I need, I need…” I tried to find the words to tell him that I wanted more.
“What do ye need, Kate?”
“I need you inside of me,” I whispered, opening my eyes and looking up at him. For good measure, I bit my lower lip, knowing that it would drive him wild.
All at once, he growled with satisfaction and again, his finger was inside of me. He slid deliciously in and out of my sheath, stroking my bead of desire with his thumb as he worked his expert fingers to pleasure me. My hips met his thrusts and in reward, he slid another finger inside of me, stretching me, filling me more fully.
I was wild beneath him, and when my body began to tremble around his fingers, he responded by driving into me harder and faster, spurring me forward.
“Devon!” I called out his name as I felt myself shatter into a thousand peaces, the fire within me exploding from his touch.
He smiled above me, and slowly withdrew his fingers as he kissed me gently on the lips, then trailed kisses up so that he could nip my earlobe with his teeth.
He whispered in my ear, “Nay, a gentleman certainly doesna do that, but who am I trying tae fool. I should have never claimed tae be a gentleman.”
Chapter Thirteen
I awoke in the early light of morning, smothered deliciously in the arms of my husband. His leg was flung over my waist and pinned my legs to the bed, and his arm was thrust protectively around my torso. He was beautiful and peaceful as he slept, there was a faint dusting of stubble covering his jaw line. His mouth curled in the faintest glimmer of a smile as he slept. He was happy. I leaned over and kissed him softly on the forehead, causing his eyes to flutter open and a genuine smile to play across his rugged face.
“Mmm…good morning, love,” he whispered, pulling me closer against his chest.
“Good morning,” I said, smiling.
“Oh my God!” he exclaimed in a panic, springing from the bed as he raked his hand through his newly cropped hair. “I’m late, it’s light out already! Shit!” he cursed as he pulled his linen shirt over his head and retrieved his boots from under the bed.
I giggled from my cocoon of blankets as I watched him scurry madly about our chamber, trying to collect his clothing.
“Ye’ve bewitched me, woman! I’m never late, and here it is light outside already and I’m supposed…”
I giggled again and raised the covers up to my mouth in an effort to stifle my enjoyment. Devon McClain was never flustered and here he was, completely discombobulated all because of me.
“And ye think this is funny?” he exclaimed as he laced his right boot. “Ye have nae idea, Kate. I’m never late because I never sleep. I don’t ken what it is about ye, but when I’m holding ye against me, I sleep like the dead…I never thought that I would…”
“You’ll be well rested, husband,” I said, chuckling.
“Are ye laughing at me?” he asked, eyes now alight with jest.
“Of course not, love,” I whispered, raising the covers again to stifle my smile.
“If I had the luxury of time, I’d teach ye a lesson, mayhap spank yer behind tae teach ye no tae laugh at me. This is most certainly not funny,” he goaded, eyes twinkling.
“It most certainly is funny,” I teased. “You appear to be most unnerved and I like that it is because of me,” I confessed.
“Ye’ll pay for this when I get home,” he warned his tone still light. He walked over to the bed and bent to kiss me, slowly, passionately. “I’ve got tae hurry now, lass, but mark my word, ye’ll pay for this when I get home,” he said through a smile, eyes heavy with passion.
I felt a twinge between my thighs at his words. He was so damn sexy and I couldn’t wait for him to return and teach me a lesson. I would count the minutes.
“Trust no one while I’m gone,” he said, tone turning serious. “Save for Leti and Brennan.”
“Alright, I’ll be careful. I promise,” I said, looking up at him and feeling the tears begin to well in my eyes.
He’s leaving me.
“Ye have no idea of how much I need ye, Kate. Be careful,” he said before claiming my lips in a demanding, passionate kiss. He lowered his forehead and rested it on mine for a split second, and then stood and strode from the room without looking back.
***
The battle raged around Devon, the horrible sights, sounds and smells of killing no longer bothered him. He’d been desensitized to the horrors of battle long ago, and was conditioned now to only one thing: Victory. Killing was no longer something that fazed him. It was simply a messy aspect of his job. He slashed his way through the mass of Cameron warriors, sword strong in his hand as he fought and stabbed his enemy. Most of these men were no match for Devon. They were young or inexperienced and he dispatched them quickly.
His eyes darted from face to face, scanning the battle field for the Cameron Laird. He intended to settle his score with the laird here and now, refusing to live his life constantly watching over his shoulder for the Cameron’s vengeful attack.
His eyes caught on a swordfight at the East side of the field, instant recognition of what was happening caused his heart to thunder and the foul taste of fear to settle in his throat. “Brennan!” he bellowed as he ran slashing through the field, recklessly wielding his sword to clear the path in front of him as he made his way through the bloody crowd. What in the hell is he doing here?
Rage fueled his body as he fought his way through the field towards Brennan. He had specifically ordered Brennan to stay home and Brennan’s neglect to obey his orders enraged him. There was no way that he was fit enough to be here after an injury so grave. Plus, Brennan’s presence meant that Kate was vulnerable, unprotected back at the castle.
Genuine terror coursed through his veins as he feared he would not make it to Brennan’s side quickly enough. Brennan had no business being on the battle field and was poised to get himself killed. His injuries had been severe and he was not yet half recovered, and remained weak. “Leti will kill me,” he muttered under his breath before he reached his friend and took in the gravity of the situation.
He reached Brennan just as the Cameron Laird raised his sword and sliced through the air, intending to finish off the weakened warrior.
“No!” Devon yelled sword drawn as he raced to throw his body in front of his friend, diving at the last moment, sword blocking a bone rattling blow. Devon knew that the blow would have been a fatal one.
“I thought that if I tarried with this one for long enough, that ye might come tae his rescue. He’s a pet of yer sister’s is he no?” Laird Cameron said tauntingly. The older Laird stood poised for attack, silver hair curling beneath his battle helmet.
“Let’s settle this, Cameron. Fight me like a man.” Devon challenged poised and ready, muscles on the fringe of attack.
“I’m no match for ye, McClain. Ye ken that well enough and so do I. In my younger years, maybe, but now I’m an old man.”
“I’ll give ye nae mercy, ye bastard,” Devon threatened and lunged towards the older man.
“It is I who shall be the giver of mercy. If ye wish to fight me and have yer sister’s man killed, then lets get on with it.” Cameron threw a nod directly behind Devon which caused a sinking feeling in the pit of Devon’s stomach.
Devon knew what had happened before he even turned to look at Brennan. In his rage and haste to engage the Cameron in a sword fight, he had neglected to have Brennan’s back. He turned cautiously to see two Cameron men restraining Brennan, and a third man holding a knife to his neck, causing a crimson trickle of blood to stain his shirt.
Brennan looked into his friend’s eyes and implored his forgiveness. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed towards his friend, bathed in the shame of his weakness he did not fight his capto
rs.
Devon turned towards the Laird, and straightened his body. He dropped his sword to the ground and it landed on the Earth with a heavy thud. “What do ye want from me, Cameron,” Devon said coolly, glaring at the older man.
“I want yer wife.”
“Ye canna have her.”
“We’ll see about that. Take him!” Cameron barked as a swarm of his men descended upon Devon and restrained him. Devon did not fight them he would gladly surrender himself so that Kate would be safe from this bastard. “And you, ye weakling,” Cameron addressed Brennan, “Head back tae yer clan and tell them that I’ve taken Devon McClain as my prisoner. I will hand him over to the English to collect the price on his head in two days time. Unless, that is, ye provide me with Katherine Berkshire before then.”
The men holding Brennan released him roughly, pushing him to the ground.
“And don’t get yerself killed, lad. I need ye tae relay my message.” Cameron smiled and taunted Brennan as he walked towards the men who were tying Devon’s arms together and securing them to the saddle of a horse.
“Tell her no to come!” Devon bellowed as he was led away. “I’d rather be killed!” One of the guards silenced him with a punch to the face, causing blood to drip from his split lip.
***
Brennan rode like a madman back to the McClain lands, guilt sitting heavily in his stomach. He had intended to help the Clan, and now look where he had gotten them. His best friend was a prisoner of the Camerons and would surely be killed before he would allow his wife to be handed over to the Camerons. Brennan had seen the way that Devon looked at Kate and he knew that there was no way that he would part with the lass willingly.
His leg ached from the breakneck pace of the ride, but he would not relent. Devon’s life hung in the balance. Laird Cameron was not a patient man by nature, and Brennan feared not being able to return to the Cameron lands in time to save his friend. Leti would kill him if her brother was killed due to his stupidity. He dreaded the thought of facing Leti with the news that her brother had been captured at his expense, she didn’t even know that he had snuck away to join in the battle.