Brethen 03 - Temptation & Twilight

by Charlotte Featherstone

  “‘I want his tongue on me, following the path of his hands.’” Iain nuzzled the side of her breast. His mouth warm and open, he kissed her as he moved to the side of the chair, making his way closer to her breast, and the nipple she felt curl in anticipation. “‘I want him to pleasure me until I scream, until I fall apart with nothing but his mouth suckling me.’”

  Iain had done that once to her. Did he remember? He found her nipple, curled his tongue around it and moaned as she arched into him. How could she deny this? Stop him? Her body cried out in pain at the thought of denying him. Just a bit more, it pleaded. It had been so long…

  so long….

  But Iain was not content with that. He wanted more, he lifted her up, and the Veiled Lady’s diary fell to the ground. He took Elizabeth’s chair, sat her on his lap and removed her gown. She was completely naked and, embarrassed, she shielded her breasts and sex with her arms.

  “No, Beth.” He kissed her ear, pulled her arms away, positioned her so that her legs were open, lying over his thighs. He was fully clothed, and she felt the heat of his chest through his shirt, the woollen blend of his trousers on her bottom.

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  asked. “Your body… What a pleasure it will be to taste, to traverse these curves in the dark.” His hand skimmed over her, resting against her belly, then lower over her mons. He began to speak to her, words from the diary. Was he reading it from where it had fallen on the floor, or had he memorized the passages as she had done?

  “‘I ache to feel him inside me, long and rigid, filling me.’” Elizabeth felt his hand beneath her bottom, caressing her, then freeing the buttons of his trousers. Finally, the burning heat of his erection pressed against her. “‘I need him, so deep inside me. Awaiting his penetration.’” That last word was whispered hotly in her ear and she squirmed on his lap, but he only held her more tightly.

  “Was it like that for you, Beth, waiting that first time to feel me inside you? Awaiting my penetration?” He was moving her so the head of his penis was nudging against the rim of her sex. His hand was stroking lazily, parting her core, allowing the edges of her sex to slip closed, then opening them again with his fingers.

  “Did you ache for me deep inside? Do you ache now?” She was breathing too fast, her chest rising and falling in anticipation, fear, and he reached for her head, held it back until it was resting against the crook of his neck.

  His mouth found hers, first the corner, which he kissed.

  His hand continued to play, his erection coming closer, nudging inside her. It made her breathe harder, faster, like a terrified virgin—not in fear that he would hurt her, but in terror of the intensity of the emotions, the desire, the very great need to feel him possess her body once more.

  “Shh,” he whispered, placing his hand over her chest, calming her.

  He kissed her, a slow, deep kiss. His tongue was warm, circling, making the same pattern as his hand was over BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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  her clitoris. She grew taut, ready, and his hand slid from where it rested over her breast bone, down to her breast, where he tugged at her nipple while stimulating her most sensitive centre.

  It was intentionally provocative. Deliberately slow. He knew how to play with her, to keep her suspended, but she wanted more, to come crashing down into his arms, her body splintering.

  Brazenly, she reached down the length of her body and tried to move his hand lower. She wanted his fingers moving inside her, appeasing the ache. The way he played with her nipple only intensified that need. So, too, did the knowledge that he was fully clothed beneath her, and was watching her in the mirror, and she was left to imagine what they must look like.

  Stubbornly, he refused to give her what she wanted.

  His fingers remained against her, playing, stroking, while she felt empty.

  “Say it, Beth,” he demanded, and she heard how husky and rough his voice was. Felt how his chest had begun to grow hot, his shirt dampening against her back. “Say you want me inside. Not my fingers, but this.” She shook her head when he brushed his phallus against her bottom. She did not want to fall that far. This was more than she’d ever thought to allow herself.

  “Then you shall have to remain unfulfilled.” He kissed her neck, drew his tongue along the column of her throat.

  “Empty.” Another caress of his tongue. “Aching. I want to give you what you want, Beth,” he said darkly, “but with my cock.”

  Biting her lip, she nodded, pressed her eyes shut. She needed to feel him inside, and if not with his fingers, then with what he desired. In truth, it was her desire, BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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  too. Even though it shouldn’t be. She whimpered in surrender, such a weak-willed woman.

  “It’s not bad to want this, Beth,” he murmured as he kissed her, slowly guided himself to her entrance. “It’s not wicked to want to join with me.” Why, then, did she feel she was selling her soul to the devil?

  She almost cried no, jumped off his lap, but then he slid into her, straight, steady and so full, penetrating her so deeply that she moaned, dug her nails into his thighs.

  “Beth,” he groaned as his hips moved slowly. “Take it all,” he whispered. “All of me, my Beth.” She had no experience with this, this position, this complete exposure. But he helped her, planted his hands on her hips and showed her the way to move. She felt Iain’s body behind her, heard his breaths which became uneven gasps.

  Slowly he moved, his hips thrusting, retreating, building the rhythm, taking it from lazy to harder, more determined, more possessing. His fingers bit into her hips as he angled her, and she heard him growl next to her ear.

  “So damn good,” he said. “You should see it, Beth, what we look like doing this, loving each other.” She grew wet, arched her back, excitement growing when she learned he was watching them. His hands left her hips, came to her breasts and cupped them, the nipples sliding between his fingers as he pulled to the rhythm of his cock, which was stroking seamlessly in and out of her.

  “Yes, yes,” he murmured as his body worked beneath hers. She sensed the moment he was about to climax; his body always stiffened. He drew his breath in and held it raggedly, his fingers biting into her nipples, and Eliza-BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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  beth knew what she must do. She accepted one last thrust, then lifted herself off his lap as he came.

  “Beth?” he gasped in surprise. He reached for her, tried to bring her back to him, then moaned, spilling his seed. She was left unfulfilled, aching. But it was far better than to be filled with any repercussions from her lapse of discipline.

  Surprising her, Iain reached for her, held her close to him as he framed her face in his hands. “Why?” he demanded. He was furious, she realized.

  “This madness you’re suffering under. It won’t last forever, Iain. Just like the last time. And I do not want to be compromised and left with something you don’t want.” She would have given her soul to see his expression.

  She wasn’t sure if it was shock or hurt, but he suddenly released her, set her away from him so he could stand.

  And then he left, just as he had the last time, without a word.

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  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  GODDAMN HER, he was still seething when
the dawn came.

  He had stood at the bedroom window for hours, watching the blinding whirl of snow, lost in thoughts of Elizabeth and what they had done.

  He saw her upon his lap, naked, open, accepting him.

  She’d been so damn lush, her body welcoming him as though he had never been gone from her. He’d wanted to carry her to the bed, to stretch out on top of her and feel her curves beneath him, but he’d been mesmerized by the image in the mirror. How they looked together. He’d been enslaved at that moment, the second he slid inside her body. He’d thought of so many things, but most of all, he’d thought of what it would be like to take Elizabeth that way while she was heavy with child. And she hadn’t wanted that. Had accused him of not wanting it, when even now he thought of how satisfying it would be to give her his seed and create a life with her.

  Banging his fist on the sill, he hung his head and tried to stuff the pain back down. Pain was a sign of weakness, or so his father had claimed. Never show pain, or fear.

  And never tears. Iain, as far as he knew, had never once cried. To weep was weakness, and neither his mother nor his father had tolerated that failing. But he was close…

  so damn close to letting his fear and frustrations get the better of him. Maybe Sheldon was right. If Elizabeth truly desired him, she would be his now….

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  Activity in the hall told him the servants were waking for the day. He wondered if Elizabeth still slept. Had she thought of him last night? Did she relive that scene as he had? Bloody hell, he had barely a dozen strokes into her and was coming, leaving her dissatisfied. He’d planned to remedy that, knowing he could not hold back his climax. But she’d put a damper on his plans. She’d rejected him. Rejected his seed.

  He’d never offered it to another before. He always wore French letters when he took a woman, and never relied on them, preferring to pull out at that peak. That moment with Elizabeth had been the first time in twelve damn years he’d been flesh to flesh inside someone, and it had felt so damn good. It had been only her he’d touched, skin to skin. And she’d denied him. But not only that, she’d denied herself, because Iain knew that she hadn’t thought that way before. She’d taken him every time he’d had her, pouring into her.

  A knock sounded at the door, and he called, “Enter,” in a voice that was much too rough.

  Charles, Elizabeth’s favourite footman, peered his head inside. “Snowed in,” he muttered. “Three-foot drifts by the mews. Took a dozen of us to dig it out to get food to the horses. I’m afraid, my lord, you’ll be stuck here until the thoroughfares are cleaned. And as it’s still blowing a white tempest out there, I doubt that will be for some time.”

  “What a shame,” Iain said, “that I shall be forced to spend days here.”

  His sarcasm was lost on the footman. “Nothing to do about it, my lord. I’ll send some of His Grace’s clothes to you. You’re about his size.”

  “Thank you.”

  Charles was about to close the door when Iain turned BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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  from the window and said, “Be so good as to inform Lady Elizabeth that her presence at breakfast is requested.”

  “At once, my lord.”

  Days… Well, let’s see what good he could make of them.

  “YOU’RE LATE.”

  Elizabeth saw red when Iain spoke from the depths of the dining room. How dare he command her about like he was her…her husband, for heaven’s sake! “This is my home, and I will dine when I’m good and ready to dine.”

  “You eat by nine, Elizabeth, every morning. It is nearly noon. You’re simply avoiding me.” How the blazes did he know that about her? He wasn’t around for breakfast normally, and she couldn’t imagine that he would recall such a thing from the past. No, he was merely goading her.

  Carefully, she took her seat and settled her napkin on her lap. “Charles, I’ll have—”

  “Charles has been dismissed for now. I’ll see to your plate. Although I should think that by now the eggs are cold.”

  “Have you eaten?” she asked.

  “No, testament to my current mood, I should suspect.” The scents of bacon and sausages and toast floated over to her. Iain set a plate in front of her. She heard another plate being placed to the right, followed by the squeaking of a chair as Iain sank into it.

  “I’ve poured your tea. The handle is to the left.”

  “Thank you. I had no idea that you—”

  “I’ve watched you for years, Elizabeth. I know how you accept your teacup, the way your plate should be ordered, with meat to the left, potatoes to the right and your vegetable to the bottom. I know you prefer red wine, BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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  and you have a sweet tooth. I also know that you would rather die by means of torture than to show any outward weakness.”

  “How well you know me.”

  “Did you doubt it?” he asked. “Did you think I would not know you as intimately as I know myself?” She glanced away. “I assumed—”

  “I know what you thought of me. What you still think of me.”

  Better to steer away from this conversation, which could very easily turn into a discussion of what had happened between them last night. For herself, Elizabeth had decided to deem the entire interlude a grave error in judgement, and forget about the entire matter.

  “I understand the weather has made a turn for the worse.”

  If he was frustrated by the change in the conversation, he hid it well. “It has. I shall have to intrude upon your hospitality for a bit longer, I’m afraid.” He spat the word hospitality out as though it were poison. Obviously, their politely strained conversation was at an end.

  “Yes, of course. Make yourself at home.”

  “At home, shall I?” he growled, and she heard the tines of his fork hitting the china plate.

  “Yes, of course. Do as you would in your own home.

  Although in this weather I doubt you will be able to bring your ladies by.”

  Silverware clattered to the table and Elizabeth felt some satisfaction for the dig.

  “Is that what you think I do all day? Fornicate?”

  “I don’t really think upon it,” she murmured as she took a small bite of her toast. “What else do you do besides chase skirts?”

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  Brethren affairs and obligations to my clan and the Sinclair lands. There are many days and nights when I’ve been too damn busy to even think of fornicating.”

  “Well, that is very edifying.”

  “What do you do all damn day? Think of new ways to flagellate me?”

  “Of course not. I barely think of you at all.” This was becoming very mean-spirited, she realized.

  “What a little liar you are.”

  “I learned from the best, didn’t I?”

  “I can take whatever you dish out, Beth,” he murmured. “I can take the pain, the way your words are intended to strip me of my flesh. I won’t run and hide from you. I won’t cower. Let us discuss the matter right now.”

  “I wasn’t aware there was anything to discuss,” she sniffed. “And let go of my wrist. It isn’t seemly.”

  “It’s much more seemly than what happened upstairs last evening, don’t you think? Did you touch yourself, Beth, after I left? Did you complete what you would not allow me to do?”

  “Stop th
is at once!”

  He leaned in, pulled her by the wrist so that she came very close to him as he whispered, “I would have brought you off so hard you would have screamed, would have begged for it—for more of it.”

  “I no longer have an appetite. Excuse me.” He released her, but followed her out of the dining room, stalking her. He was so cruel, so…right. And she hated him for it. Despised that he knew that much about her. Fumbling her way along the halls, she was keenly aware that he was behind her, watching her struggle to get her bearings. He didn’t help her, just stalked her like a wolf waiting to pounce on injured prey.

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  quickly shutting it before he could enter. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, she collapsed against the wood.

  “I’ll let you go this time,” he said from the other side of the door. “But you can’t avoid me forever, Beth. We will have this conversation. You will hear what I have to say.”

  “Go away, Iain.”

  “Go away?” he said. “You ask the impossible, Beth, for I am so completely entwined with you that it’s impossible for me to separate myself. If you would only rest for a moment, and not try to run from me, you would see that the same is true for you. Just as water always flows to the ocean, we’re trying to make our way back to each other.”

  “I won’t go back to you,” she whispered to herself, but he heard her.

  “I’m coming for you, Beth. And there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

  AND THEY SAID SCOTS were a stubborn lot! He had never met a more stubborn woman in all his life. She’d avoided him at luncheon, and then at dinner. It was nearing midnight and still no sign of her. Outside, the blizzard had begun to die down, but the wind still howled, causing the snow on the ground to drift. He was anxious that the brunt of the storm was over and he had wasted a day with Elizabeth. He would likely be gone on the morrow, and his plans to make Elizabeth his had gone up in a puff of smoke.