“Can you take your leine off? I want to feel your skin against mine.”
The words had barely left Arabella’s mouth before Lachlan was unfastening the brooch that held the extra length of his plaid over his shoulder. He dropped the pin into his sporran, wrapped the swath of wool around his waist, and ripped his leine over his head. Arabella veritably purred as her hands ran over the ridges of muscles that made up Lachlan’s chest and abdomen. She’d never paid attention to any of the men she saw training without shirts on. But now her eyes gorged on the sight of Lachlan’s bronzed skin under her touch. He stood without moving as she explored his shoulders and arms before reaching around him to caress his back.
When Arabella’s eyes drifted shut and she sighed while her hands continued to roam, Lachlan pulled her closer as his own hands became reacquainted with the soft flesh of her backside. He kneaded the globes as Arabella melted against him. The urge to lift her and guide her legs around his waist before laying her back on the bed became so strong that Lachlan stepped away. At the confusion in Arabella’s eyes, he smiled sheepishly and guided her hand to his rod. She could feel the steely length through the wool.
“If you don’t get in that tub soon, I may break my word. And as much as I want to make love to you, I want to honor you more,” Lachlan confessed.
“I love your honor, but I don’t love that you remembered it,” Arabella grumbled as she moved toward the tub. Lachlan held her hand as she stepped into the linen lined wooden bath. She slid down so that the water covered her shoulders. When she could only hear Lachlan’s labored breathing, she cracked open one eye and found him watching her.
“Soak and enjoy your bath. I won’t rush you,” Lachlan explained.
“I’m sure you won’t. If you did, it would only mean I’d get dressed sooner,” Arabella teased.
Lachlan pulled the stool that a servant left closer to the side and sank onto it. He trailed the back of his fingers over her collarbone before inching his hand under the water to cup her breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple until it hardened. He turned his attention to her other breast as he kissed behind her ear.
“I would keep you naked and beside me in our bed every day for the rest of our lives. I would worship every inch of you,” Lachlan whispered.
“Our?” Arabella asked. Lachlan pulled back and looked at her. He realized her parents must have had separate chambers.
“Aye, ours. Belle, the couples in my family do not sleep apart. We marry for love, and we want to be beside our partners both when we’re awake and when we’re asleep. Unless you wish otherwise, we will share a chamber.”
“I never thought aboot it before because I never let myself imagine that we might one day marry.” Arabella’s cheeks flamed red, and Lachlan tried to hide his amusement at her embarrassment. “I mean, I confess I’ve imagined us—well—you know—together. But I never thought aboot what it would be like after. When we’re done and just a married couple. Or on nights when you didn’t want to couple with me. I suppose I figured you’d go to your own chamber or wherever.”
“Or wherever?” Lachlan let go of Arabella and sat up straight. “Belle, there will never be a wherever. If I’m not sleeping alongside you, it’s because I’m either on patrol or forced to be away from the keep. The only woman I will ever touch a bed with is you.”
Arabella nodded but lowered her head. She couldn’t look at Lachlan; the conversation was suddenly too intense and personal. Too many insecurities and worries about disappointing him were rising to the surface, and she had no way to escape. Not with Lachlan sitting beside her, and not without something to drink.
“Couples don’t always use beds,” Arabella whispered.
“Do ye think I’m going to be tupping maids against a wall or in the stables?” Lachlan asked, not noticing his burr. He tried to keep the hurt and frustration from his voice. “That may be what some men do, but I never will. I will never betray ye or the vows we share. Ma word is ma honor. If it means naught, then I have none. That is nae the mon I want to be, that’s nae the husband I want to be, and it’s nae the laird ma clan deserves one day. And if nae by ma own choice, I’ll be faithful because ma father will skelp me, and ma mother would run me through.” Lachlan tried to sound lighthearted at the end, even though he hadn’t exaggerated.
“You fear your mother?” Arabella asked. “She always sounds like such a kindly woman.”
“She is, but she’s nae one to cross. How do ye think Maude and Blair came to be so fierce? They get it from Mama.” Lachlan lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Never tell ma da, but I’m far more scared of ma mama than I am him. Always have been. He’s a bit of a softy once ye get past the burly, bearded appearance.”
Arabella’s peel of laughter filled the chamber, and they both seemed to relax. Arabella closed her eyes as Lachlan’s hand drifted over her breasts and down her belly. Her knees fell open as his fingers ran through the thatch of curls.
“Belle?”
“Aye. I’ll expire if you don’t.”
It was the permission Lachlan sought, and it spurred him on. He dipped his middle finger into her sheath, feeling wetness he knew didn’t come from the bath. Arabella’s head fell back against the edge of the tub as her hips rose to meet his questing finger. When she shifted restlessly, Lachlan whispered against her neck.
“What do ye want, Belle? Tell me, and I will give it to ye. Aught you want,” Lachlan offered. When her eyes flew open and looked at where his cockstand tented his plaid, he chuckled. “Nearly aught.”
Arabella playfully huffed before shutting her eyes again. “Just more.”
Lachlan pressed a second finger into her, marveling at how tight her channel was and how it expanded to accommodate him. When her knees bumped the sides of the tub as she tried to open them wider, Lachlan pressed deeper, but was mindful of her maidenhead. He watched as a flush crept up Arabella’s neck and flooded her cheeks. Her mouth opened slightly as she panted. He felt her straining as her hips undulated beneath the water’s surface. He drew the leg closer to him out of the water and hooked it over the side. When her hands gripped the rim, her knuckles turned white, and her moans of pleasure hinted at frustration, Lachlan dared to dip a third finger into her as his thumb worked her nub. As her breaths grew shallow and faster, she grasped his wrist and tried to press him into her further. She moaned with frustration, her inexperienced body clamoring for what she wanted but unknowing of how to find it. She pressed his fourth finger into her, but Lachlan tried to pull back.
“Belle, I’ll hurt ye,” Lachlan worried. “Ye’re too tight, too narrow.”
Arabella shook her head, one hand still pressing his wrist while the other reached for his shoulder. With no leine to grab to pull him closer, she clawed at his shoulder. She pulled both feet back into the water; her legs trapping Lachlan’s hand between her thighs as she pressed her feet against the bottom to raise her hips.
“Either this,” Arabella jerked her chin toward where Lachlan’s submerged hand continued to ply her body before looking at his cock, “Or that. But you won’t hurt me. Not unless you believe you won’t fit because I’ve stroked you, Lach, and it’s much bigger than what you have in me now.”
“Are ye saying that to flatter me? To tempt me?” Lachlan growled.
Arabella drew her head back and furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand.”
“Ye never learned that complimenting a mon on his size is a way to seduce him?”
“I—I suppose I have. But I wasn’t thinking aboot what I’ve heard anyone say. All I was thinking aboot is how frustrated I am that I can’t find that release you gave me before. How I desperately crave learning what you feel like inside me. And that having touched you before lets me know that there isn’t a comparison between your fingers and your—. Well, your fingers are quite big, but your—.”
Arabella squeezed her eyes shut, completely embarrassed, her arousal waning as she felt foolish. Rather than pulling Lachlan’s hand to her sheath, she
pushed it away. She turned her head from Lachlan’s piercing stare. She whimpered when Lachlan lifted his hand, regretting pushing him away. She was unprepared for him to lift her to her feet. He looked at her and shook his head. He snatched the bar of soap from beside the stool and quickly ran it over her entire body. A wet linen followed as it washed away the soap. Her hair was still dry.
Lachlan snatched a towel from the stack beside the tub and flung it around Arabella’s shoulders before grabbing another that he flung over his shoulder. He lifted her from the tub and once her feet touched the floor, he backed her toward the bed. When her thighs hit the mattress, he pressed her onto it. He used the towel he’d placed over his shoulder to dry her breasts and belly before kneeling between her thighs. He dried her left leg before hooking it over his shoulder, then repeated the process with her right. His hands grasped her hips and pulled her to the edge. He pressed his nose to her seam and flicked his tongue into her entrance. Arabella jumped, unprepared for the sensation.
“Ye shall have that release, Belle. Ma fingers and tongue will do what I willna allow ma cock to. Yet.” Lachlan flicked his tongue along her entrance. “And I suggest ye find some word ye can say, or how will I ken when ye want it?”
“When I want it?” Arabella lifted onto her elbows. “I mean, I think I’ll always want it any time you wish to couple. But why would I say something like that?”
Lachlan reminded himself that Arabella wasn’t one of the experienced women he’d bedded in the past. Even when he imagined those women were her, they were still women who had bedded plenty of men. Her innocence was pure, and he regretted his snap judgment that she intended her words to seduce. She didn’t understand the power of them.
“Ye arenae a broodmare or a bitch in heat that I’ll rut whenever I want. Ye can always say nay, just as ye can always tell me when ye wish to couple.” Lachlan kissed the inside of her thigh. “And ye can always tell me what ye want me to do, what ye want us to do. Never be embarrassed or ashamed that ye wish for us to join. There is no shame in it, and I confess, I long to hear ye tell me that ye want me.”
“But a lady—maybe the ones you—I’m not suppose—” Arabella flopped back onto the bed, her humiliation complete. She didn’t want to see Lachlan kneeling between her legs. She felt vulnerable and out of her depths. The bed dipped, then she felt Lachlan’s hand brush the hair back from her temple before he kissed it.
“Aye,” Lachlan whispered. “I ken what I’m doing. But I will never be with anyone else. The past is the past, Belle. I willna look back.”
Arabella looked into the whisky brown eyes she was so familiar with, and she felt the air returning to her lungs as she relaxed. “I trust you, Lachlan. I’m not worried aboot that. If not because you’ve said so, but because I believe you’re afraid of your mother—and father.” Arabella grinned as she stroked her fingers along his unshaven cheek, liking the feel of the bristles. “I don’t want you to think I’m the whore that my father and Beathan said.”
“They are both lucky they are still breathing after that. Belle, I dinna think ye telling me what ye want or what ye enjoy makes ye a whore. It makes ye ma partner.”
“Your partner?”
“Aye.” Lachlan sat up and looked around. He spotted his leine and went to fetch it. He helped Arabella to sit up, and he eased it over her head. This wasn’t what he thought they would be doing five minutes ago, but he realized there was much they needed to discuss before they married. He pulled his boots off and gestured for Arabella to move up to the head of the bed. He climbed on beside her and looked at her pale legs sticking out from beneath his leine. When she moved to pull them up and under the shirt, he stayed her with his hand on her thigh. “If ye’re cold, then I will get ye a plaid. But dinna hide from me. Please.”
Arabella nodded. “What did you mean by partner?”
Lachlan lifted her hand into his and covered it with his other. He ran his thumb over the back of it, the sensation soothing to them both.
“One day, God willing nae anytime soon, I will be laird and ye will be the lady of our clan. The Sutherlands havenae become the powerful clan we are just because of our size. Ma father was never meant to be laird. He was a third son. But his father and brothers died in battle, and the lairdship fell to him. His mother died when he was a young child, and his father was a tyrant. When he was suddenly thrust into being laird, he panicked. He rode out as soon as he knew the keep was secure and went to Dunbeath where my Aunt Kyla was. He arrived on her wedding day of all things. She was set to marry ma Uncle Liam. The day after the wedding, Uncle Liam and Aunt Kyla rode back to Dunrobin with Da to help him get the keep settled and for Uncle Liam to teach him all that his own father taught him. During the moon they were there, Da watched Uncle Liam and Aunt Kyla as they worked together to sort out everything her father left in shambles.”
Lachlan lifted Arabella’s hand to his lips as he remembered his aunt before she passed away. She and his mother were much alike, and had become instant friends from the tales he heard. He remembered how happy his Uncle Liam was before she died. He’d become a serious and reserved man, dedicated to his children before all else, but always a fair and powerful laird. Since becoming a grandfather, Lachlan noticed much of Liam’s former joy and merriment had returned.
“Lach?” Arabella’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“Sorry. I was just thinking aboot how Uncle Liam and Aunt Kyla were before she died.”
“I’m sorry,” Arabella whispered.
Lachlan nodded. “Da asked Uncle Liam how he and ma aunt had learned to work so well together when they’d only married the day he arrived. Uncle Liam reminded him that Aunt Kyla had been at Dunbeath for nearly a moon before they wed, and he and ma aunt paid close attention to Uncle Liam’s parents. They’d been a love match, and Uncle Liam and Aunt Kyla emulated them from the beginning. In turn, Da emulated his sister and brother-by-marriage when he married Mama.”
Arabella sighed as Lachlan continued to brush his thumb over her hand. The steady pace calmed her, and had she not been so interested in Lachlan’s story, she would have fallen asleep.
“Ye probably dinna ken, but the Sutherlands and Rosses were in a violent feud for years because of Da’s father. It wasnae long after he became laird that the old king summoned him to court. It was while he was here that he met Mama. He didna ken she was the Earl of Ross’s daughter, and she didna ken he was the Earl of Sutherland. But her father kenned exactly who Da was, and they ended up in a fight. An actual brawl. Long story short, Da and Mama refused to consider aught but marrying one another. They handfasted to force ma grandfather’s hand. Come to think of it, I nearly forgot that Uncle Liam and Aunt Kyla handfasted after Uncle Liam’s cousin tried to hurt Aunt Kyla. Both couples didna wait to go to the kirk because they were committed to one another, and they wouldnae let anyone come between them.”
“Gory, but romantic, from the sounds of it,” Arabella mused.
“We’re Highlanders,” Lachlan stated, as though that explained everything. And Arabella supposed it did. “Maude nearly handfasted with Kieran and may as well have. And Blair handfasted with Hardi. All ma cousins did the same. Mairghread and Tristan did so after his half-brother tried to steal Mairghread away when their betrothal fell through. Callum and Siùsan did, even though they were betrothed. Beathan’s bluidy uncle kidnapped her and attempted to—well, he tried to mistreat her. They didna wait until their kirking to pledge their commitment. Alex and Brighde did the same when her father and betrothed tried to claim her after trying to kill her. Magnus and Deirdre fell in love as children and pledged themselves just as they became adults. Even though her parents kept them apart, both refused to consider their handfast over, and both kept their vows. Tavish and Ceit handfasted after they both nearly died at her uncle’s hand. He was the most confirmed bachelor I ken, but once he fell in love with Ceit, Heaven help anyone trying to stand in his way. He was determined to marry Ceit because they loved one another, nae because there w
as a betrothal arranged. The Clans Sinclair and Sutherland are like-minded in that.”
“It sounds like your family has a tradition of marrying without a priest. Not a patient lot, yet you all have such discipline.”
“We’re nae particularly patient—or forgiving—when it comes to being kept apart from the person we love most. And that’s the point of this story. Ma family has marriages made from love, and so husband and wife are partners. Ye will be ma partner in all things, Belle. From deciding how to run our clan to what we do in our bedchamber. Naught is ma decision alone. If ye wish to make love, then I will honor that. If ye dinna wish to, I will never force ye.”
Arabella twisted to cup Lachlan’s jaw with her free hand. She kissed him; the motions languid as she swept her tongue across the seam of his lips. He opened to her as their tongues thrust and parried. Lachlan’s hand trailed along the outside of Arabella’s thigh, hiking up his leine until he cupped her backside. Arabella rolled back but paused.
“I don’t think you realize it, but you’ve sounded like a Highlander almost the entire time we’ve been in here. I like it much better.”
“I’ll show ye what a Highlander I am.” Lachlan rolled toward her, bracing himself above her, his chest hovering over hers. His hand slid around to dip between her thighs. Still slick with her earlier arousal, Lachlan’s fingers slipped within her. As her legs fell open, he gave into her earlier demands, all his fingers pressed into her as his thumb worked the bundle of eager nerves. It was only a matter of moments before Arabella’s fingers bit into Lachlan’s shoulder while the other hand clenched the pillow beneath her head. She pressed her lips together to stifle her moan.
The wave of pleasure was still lapping at her when she pushed at Lachlan’s shoulder, nudging him onto his back. She followed him until she hovered above him. His hands cupped her backside once more as her hand slipped under his plaid. She wasn’t brave enough to flip it back and catch sight of his cock in full light, but she wrapped her hand around it and stroked. She felt his rod swell in her hand, gaining both length and girth. Her eyes darted to his, and Lachlan’s expression lacked remorse. Instead, Arabella was certain it was smug pride. She squeezed until Lachlan groaned, and his hips bucked. She continued to work his length until he pulled her in for a savage kiss and spilled his seed over her hand. Just as he had in the alcove, he hurried to wipe her hand with his plaid, fearful that his release would horrify her.
A Beauty at the Highland Court: A Star-Crossed Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 7) Page 13