Scot to the Touch (The Hots for Scots Book 6), page 5
“Och, lass,” he managed in a strangled voice, “dinnae move yet. I’m sorry I dinnae ken ye were a virgin, but there are ways to make this easier for ye.”
She’d frozen again, but now hummed, and he swore he could feel those vibrations in his bollocks. “Like what?”
So she was curious, eh? “Well, ye being on top gives ye the power and control, so this is a good start. A good orgasm ahead of time loosens up yer muscles, makes ye more able to accommodate a cock.” As he spoke, his fingertips were brushing against her curls, featherlight caresses which caused her to slowly relax atop him. “I would’ve used my tongue on ye here.
As his finger found the nub of her pleasure, hidden in her curls right above where he was sheathed inside her, she moaned again and flexed around his cock.
He did his best not to move, but ‘twas one of the most difficult things he’d ever had to do.
“So ye’re an expert in this sort of thing?” she gasped, obviously trying out the smaller movements now that she’d relaxed.
“Fooking virgins?” His whisper was harsh.
“Fooking virgins in this bed.”
“Nay. I’ve never seen the need to face the fear and tears.”
Even as he spoke, he stroked her until she was gyrating—smaller movements this time, but obviously enjoying herself—once more. “I see,” she gasped, “And now that ye have had a woman in this bed? A virgin?”
He chuckled at the sound of her pique, even in the midst of her desire. “Och, lass, I havenae ‘had’ ye yet. Believe me, when I do, ye’ll ken it.”
She took a deep breath, then slowly—ever so slowly—leaned forward until the brush of her fingertips on his shoulders became a solid pressure, and soon she was leaning against him, taking her weight on her knees and hands.
“Well, Kiergan?” she whispered, challenge in her voice. “What are ye waiting for?”
St. Columba’s sacred tit, he could get used to this!
Chuckling, he focused on her pleasure and lifted his other hand to stroke up her side to her breasts. “Lass, in this position, the pleasure is entirely up to ye. Ride me. Use my cock however ye desire. Fook me.”
Mayhap ‘twas his language—the type reserved for the whores down in the village—but she gave a groan and moved against him. That small moment became another, then another. She started slow, lifting herself off his cock, then slowly sinking back down, and Kiergan thought he might die from the pleasure.
But he knew this wasn’t about him. For whatever reason, Davina MacKinnon had played a particular part with him in front of their families but had chosen him to be her first lover. She’d gone through a lot of trouble sneaking through the secret passages and finding his room.
The least he could do was make sure she would enjoy it.
So he kept stroking and murmuring, and when her tits got close enough, he closed his lips around one nipple and showed her how to move against him. She rode him, aye, finding her rhythm in the most delightful way. And each time she lowered herself, sheathing him wonderfully inside her, she moaned.
Soon her moans were coming closer together, and Kiergan couldn’t control his own panting. He grasped her hips, showing her how to ride him, and as she took more weight on her knees so she could control her movements, he braced his feet against the mattress and experimented with small thrusts.
Judging from the way she called his name in a desperate-sounding whisper, she didn’t mind at all.
“Love, let me help ye,” he implored in a murmur.
“God love me, aye, Kiergan! Please!” she panted.
And he was more than happy to oblige.
He thrust into her, thrilled by how quickly she seemed to grasp the mechanics of the situation, shifting her hands to the mattress to support herself as they made the entire bed shake. Each time he thrust upward, she met him with a little mewling sound, until they were both panting and desperate.
Suddenly, she froze. “Oh, blessed Virgin,” she whispered hoarsely, and he felt her inner muscles tightening around him.
“Aye, that’s it, lass,” he murmured soothingly, still bucking underneath her, but this time, reaching between them to stroke her wetness with two fingers.
‘Twas apparently all she’d needed, because she suddenly jerked atop him, then again, then sat back suddenly, her knees clamping down hard on his hips as her core spasmed around him.
“Kiergan,” she murmured, and in the shadows, he saw her head fall back as she orgasmed.
He stroked softly, his pelvis still thrusting upward helplessly. St. Columba help him, but he wanted to spill his seed deep inside her. He wanted to mark her as his.
She was coming around his cock, and he was practically breathless from need.
But nay, ‘tis about her.
When she whimpered slightly and went limp, he knew she’d found pleasure. What had she said? Unimaginable pleasure? He grinned, wondering if that’s how she’d describe it.
“God’s blood, Kiergan,” she whispered, tipping forward.
He managed to catch her, to pull her down, to lay her beside him. And despite his intention to shower kisses and gentle words upon her, as soon as his aching cock sprang free of her wetness, he reached for it, and nearly groaned aloud when his fingers wrapped around himself.
He felt more than saw her push herself up on her elbow beside him. And knowing she was watching him fook his own hand set him over the edge. He tugged once, twice, spreading her wetness over himself, and then with a mighty groan, released his seed across his belly.
Instantly, he was overcome with that delicious ease which always stole over him, and his hand fell, boneless, beside him.
“St. Columba’s holy spleen, Davina, that was no’ well-done of me. I hope ye dinnae mind.”
She stiffened against him when he called her by her name, but after a moment she relaxed. “Mind?” Her throaty chuckle seemed to reach into his chest and squeeze. “ ’Twas everything I hoped it would be.”
His eyelids were growing too heavy to keep open. Why bother since it was so dark in his chamber anyhow? With a sigh, he relaxed, seeming to sink even deeper into the pillows. “Unimaginable pleasure?” he murmured in question.
She chuckled again, then sighed out an, “Aye,” and rested her head beside him on the pillow. He grinned sleepily in the darkness, one arm snaking around her to pull her closer. She made a little contented sound which he echoed, and when her palm rested against his chest, he had the most unusual feeling of contentment.
Mayhap I should’ve brought a lass to my bed long ago.
That thought made him want to laugh at himself, and if he’d had the energy, he would’ve. But it was quickly followed by another, even more interesting thought.
Marriage means sex with only one woman for the rest of my life, so it makes sense why I’ve avoided it. But if I could be guaranteed this kind of pleasure, mayhap it’d be worth it.
Was it possible Da and the MacKinnon Laird had known what they were talking about, bringing Davina and her sister to Oliphant Castle?
Beside him, the lass gave another contented sigh, and he remembered how she’d felt, coming apart in his arms. He’d done that. He’d brought her that pleasure, which had obviously been her goal.
And tomorrow, he’d see her in the daylight.
For certes, she’d treat him differently than she had at supper. For certes, after this pleasure they’d shared, she’d be amenable to accepting his suit.
To Kiergan’s complete surprise, he was actually considering courting Davina MacKinnon.
Because this grumpy, angry lass had come to his bed and had demanded he make love to her, and he’d enjoyed every moment of it.
He pushed aside the twinge of guilt which needled at him, remembering how much fun he’d had chatting with Katlyn at supper that evening. Nay, she was a kind lass, and intriguing, aye, but Davina was the one who’d come to his bed.
His hand rose so his fingers could twine through her curls, and he pulled her closer so he could smell the scent of her hair.
I havenae kissed her.
And had he had the energy, he might’ve chuckled at himself. He’d fooked her, brought her to pleasure, found his own, he’d stroked her clitoris and suckled on her tits, but he hadn’t kissed her.
Soon, he promised himself. Soon.
Just as soon as he regained some strength, he’d kiss her. He’d kiss her and worship her body and show her the real unimaginable pleasure she’d come to him for.
That was his last thought before sleep claimed him.
Chapter 4
Somehow, miraculously, Katlyn managed to wake before dawn. The horizon outside Kiergan’s window was just tinted with the faintest hints of light.
Being careful not to disturb him, she slid from his arms. When he grunted and rolled in his sleep, as if reaching for her, she had to smile. But it was a sad smile, knowing she couldn’t stay with him.
Ever.
Still, she took the time to brush her palm against his hand, resisting the urge to twine her fingers through his, to pull his hand to her lips for a kiss.
What they’d shared had been a one-time thing. They’d been lovers briefly; she’d given him her virginity and would never regret it.
Even if he did think she was Davina.
This wasn’t the kind of situation which called for kisses or cuddles or words of praise. There wasn’t even time for lingering. She had to leave his room before he woke and saw who she really was.
With trembling fingers, she pulled on her chemise and tried to tie it closed but gave up and reached for the candle instead. She risked a glance over her shoulder and saw the eastern sky had lightened even more. There was no time to strike the flint, she’d just have to find her way back to her loaned chamber by feel alone.
Luckily, she’d memorized the layout of his room last night and found the hidden entrance to the passage without trouble, so she pushed it open and slipped through within mere seconds. Once there, in the cool darkness, Kat dropped her forehead against the stone and breathed deeply, surprised to discover she was fighting back tears.
Why had she told him she was Davina?
Nay, he’d guessed she was Davina, but she hadn’t corrected him. Why? Because ‘twas easier to pretend to be the woman he was already half-betrothed to, was that it? Davina was the pretty sister, the one destined to marry for the good of the clan.
So what harm was there in pretending to be Vina, if it made a handsome man look kindly upon Kat?
Nay, he’d done more than look kindly. He’d touched and suckled and stroked, and brought her unimaginable pleasure.
But he hadn’t kissed her.
And as remarkable as that lovemaking had been, Kat couldn’t help but feel a little …empty. As if there’d been something missing, though she didn’t know what it was.
Focus, ye clot-heid! The castle will be awake soon!
Aye, and she had to be in bed beside Vina, pretending to have been there all evening.
Mayhap ‘twas that knowledge which made her jumpy, but as she was feeling her way through the secret passages, she swore she heard a noise ahead. She froze, straining her eyes.
There! At an intersection in the passage, near the chamber she shared with Davina, she saw light. Stifling her gasp, Kat pressed herself against the stone wall, hardly daring to breathe.
Footsteps, and then a man crossed in front of her, holding one hand in front of a candle’s flame as he hurried. He was tall and lean and had auburn hair, but she didn’t recognize him. He must be an Oliphant—mayhap one of Kiergan’s brothers she hadn’t met last night.
Katlyn wasn’t sure how long she stood there in the dark, but surely the castle was beginning to wake? She had to weigh the chance of discovery against the opportunity to return to the room before Davina woke, and eventually she spurred herself into action.
But when she pulled open the door to the chamber they’d been assigned, she was surprised to find her sister already awake, standing in the middle of the room, pulling her chemise over her head.
Both of them froze, staring at one another. Vina’s eyes darted around the chamber but didn’t seem at all surprised to see Katlyn step through the wall. Kat’s gaze went to the bed, which had definitely been slept in, and in fact, it looked as though Vina had struggled with a bad dream or something during the night, judging by how the coverlets were strewn about. Which may explain why she was awake so early.
But not why she was looking so guilty.
So Kat cleared her throat as she stepped through the secret door, pulling it closed behind her. “If ye dinnae ask me where I’ve been, I’ll no’ ask ye any questions either.”
A look of relief flashed across her sister’s face, even as Vina blew out a breath and reached for a ribbon to tie back her hair. “I find yer deal acceptable. I see ye discovered the secret passageway?”
And how did she know about it? Kat watched her sister as the two of them readied themselves for the day, speaking little, but couldn’t shake the knowledge Vina knew more than she was telling.
Was it somehow connected to her refusal to marry Kiergan? What did Vina know about the Oliphants that Kat didn’t?
And was there a way to learn Vina’s secrets, without spilling her own?
Nay, best not to ask.
Together, the sisters descended to the great hall in time to see servants bustling about, preparing the morning meal. They cheerfully joined in to help, earning them praise from Moira, the housekeeper.
And as they worked, Kat couldn’t help but notice how her sister seemed in a much better mood today than she had yesterday. Mayhap she just needed a good night’s sleep. Nae one rests well while traveling.
“ ’Tis good to see ye smiling this morning, lassies,” said Moira as she bustled by, carrying a crock of milk. “A cheerful face is always best in the morning!”
Remembering what she’d learned about the housekeeper’s sleeping arrangements, Kat couldn’t help wondering if the plump woman was smiling for the same reason she was.
“Here, let me help ye!” Katlyn called out, hurrying after Moira, and the two settled into an easy conversation as Davina chatted with Lara.
By the time the meal was prepared, Kat and Vina were among the first to settle at the high table, which slowly began to fill with members of the family. Mostly ‘twas Kiergan’s brothers who hurried to break their fast before going about their duties, but one of the wives joined as well just as Kat was finishing her meal. She smiled as she slid in on Kat’s other side, balancing a plump bairn on her hip and calling out instructions to the lad on her other side.
“Evelinde, aye?” Kat asked quietly, having learned long ago not to force her company on someone without warning. Often strangers were pleasant enough until they got a good look at her eyes, but then they clammed up.
But to her surprise, Kiergan’s sister-in-law turned to her and shoved the bairn into Kat’s arms. “Aye, and this is Tomas. Will ye hold him for a moment? Be careful, he spits up.”
Before Kat could agree, Evelinde had turned back to the lad and was soon busy scooping porridge into a bowl for him. The boy was keeping up a running commentary, but Kat heard little of it; instead, her attention was focused on the creature in her arms.
He was a bright-eyed little lad, with a shock of his mother’s dark hair. She held him under his arms and edged him closer to the table so she could rest his arse on the edge and take some weight off her arms.
“He’s adorable,” murmured Vina, her head cocked to one side. “What do ye think she meant by spit up?”
Isn’t that what bairns did? A dangerous fluttering began settling in Katlyn’s chest as she watched the wee lad watch her back with serious eyes. From the time she’d been a young lass, Kat had been told she wouldn’t be married, and she wouldn’t have any bairns of her own. No man would marry a woman with the devil’s curse.
But last night, she’d become a woman, even though she wasn’t married. He hadn’t spilled his seed in her, but Kat suddenly realized ‘twas possible to become a mother, even if no man would marry her. The possibility terrified her, but there was a part of her, tucked away behind the acceptance and yearning, which she suddenly realized had been there all along.
She wanted a bairn of her own.
“Och, nay, ye dinnae have to treat him as if he’s made of clay!” Evelinde admonished, turning back to her. “Here, tuck the wee scoundrel up against yer shoulder, like so, and just dinnae bounce him too hard.”
Before Katlyn could blink, the bairn was against her chest, reaching for her hair and cooing happily. Evelinde watched a moment, then nodded her head approvingly.
“Ye dinnae mind holding him a bit longer? So I can eat in peace?”
She’d asked so sarcastically, Kat had to chuckle. She exchanged a glance with her sister, who shrugged, and then shifted on the bench so both she and the bairn could watch as Evelinde bent over her porridge. “I’m surprised there’s no’ more hands willing to hold the wee angel.”
“Och, I cannae complain. I have four sisters-in-law and dozens of women who love him as their own. But Fiona’s no’ here, and Skye and Merewyn are in the village. Lara is here, see?” She pointed with the spoon. “But she’s helping her mother this morning.”
Katlyn glanced around, enjoying the bustle of the castle this early. Despite knowing she might regret asking, she ventured, “And ye dinnae mind someone like me holding him?”
“Why would I— Oh.” Evelinde hummed slightly as she glanced at Katlyn, then spun around to pull an apple from her other son’s hand. “Ye finish yer porridge first, then ye can have an apple.”
The lad sighed. “Half my porridge, then half the apple?”
“All of the porridge, then all of the apple,” his mother returned the negotiations. “But I’ll allow ye a dash of honey atop the porridge.”
“Two spoons of honey, and ye let me use my knife to cut the apple so I can dip it into the porridge!”
Evelinde narrowed her eyes. “One spoon of honey, I’ll cut the apple, and ye can dip it.”
