Page 27 of At the Highlander's Mercy
Rob returned to the chamber without saying another word and returned to studying the documents there. He’d left for some time with them and brought them back, but they exchanged no more words over them or anything else either. She wanted to speak on the matter more, for his admission had shocked her. In one word, he’d explained much and created even more questions for her.
As a child of the MacLerie laird, the Earl of Douran, who owned huge amounts of land and commanded one of the largest fighting forces in the Highlands, Lilidh knew his reputation and his true skills and temperament. And she knew her place in his world, exactly how shefit into his scheme of things and plans. She also knew that her father would never start a war for her.
Yet, in a way, that’s exactly what Rob had said he had done over her.
In laying the blame at her feet, Rob forced her to think about the true relationship she had with her father and his past actions regarding her. Though she’d always thought of herself as a chattel in his world, valued and respected, but a chattel none the less, Rob’s claim gave her pause now. And hope.
Not that she wanted war—she did not want that. But the fact that her father considered her feelings and the treatment she’d received at Rob’s hands to be important enough to not only part ways but to break up their
alliance—what did that mean now? Would he fight to get her back? Pitch his clan and their allies against Rob to bring her home?
She rolled to her side, moving off her bad leg, and tucked her hand under her head. Would sleep never come? She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. At least if she could seek her rest before he got into the bed, there might be a chance of avoiding the discomfiture of such a situation. When he began to move around the chamber, putting out candles and lanterns and then banking the flames in the hearth, she knew no way to avoid the coming situation.
Feigning sleep would be her only way. She forced her breaths to come at a slow and deep pace. Letting her body fall limp, she concentrated on not thinking about Rob, the first and only man who had touched her intimately, as he undressed and climbed into bed withher. Though he let several layers of bedcovers remain between them, her body reacted as if their naked flesh touched.
Trying again not to think about those matters, she counted the seconds of each inhalation and exhalation. Would concentrating on that distract her from the memories? But, then, as these things do, trying not to think about them simply brought them back more quickly and stronger than she could avoid.
Their last time together.
She’d sought him out in the cave they discovered in the forest outside Lairig Dubh. They met there often, sharing moments of privacy and daring all sorts of scandalous intimacies for which her father would have beaten her if he’d known. But they were in love, going to marry, so Lilidh allowed him some measure of liberty in touching and caressing her. His kisses were wicked things and she never would have imagined that a touching of the lips could be so exciting.
This day Rob dared more than before, making her body ache for every touch. Tension had built to unimaginable levels inside her and she knew Rob caused it—and could relieve it somehow if he would. As her body blossomed under his hand, he unlaced her gown, moved her shift down and touched his mouth there, kissing a sensuous path towards her breasts.
He slid his hand inside and teased the tautened tip of her breast with his thumb before taking it into his mouth! Her body shook at each caress and when his teeth tightened down on the sensitive tip, she screamed out, in surprise and excitement.
His laugh as he did these things was as wicked as what he did to her. Making her a creature she did not recognise. Making her want to allow him to do even more... To take the final step and join their bodies now.
‘Hush, now,’ he whispered. Though his words seemed aimed to calm things between them, his hand never stopped touching her breasts. ‘We do not want to alert anyone that we are here, my love.’
Lilidh shook her head and could not gather any words together in that moment, for all she could do was feel the terrifying yet exhilarating way her heart raced and her skin heated. When his hand moved down over her gown and began to slide up her leg, she stopped breathing altogether.
She had not realised her eyes were closed until she’d opened them and found him staring at her. Lilidh lifted her hand and touched his face. His eyes burned with desire for her and she waited for seemingly unending moments until she felt his fingers touch the top of her thighs. He swirled them in circles, gently teasing her until her legs fell open.
Gasping as he moved ever deeper into that private place, she grabbed for his wrist to stop him. This could not be right. Could it?
‘Sweet Lilidh,’ he whispered. ‘Do you wish me to stop now? Or can I show you the pleasure that can be between a man and the woman he loves?’
The devil lived on earth and his name was Rob Matheson.
Though she understood about how a man and woman joined—no one could live in a place such as LairigDubh and not understand it—no one had ever told her that this...this pleasurable touching was part of it. Or mayhap this was the part parents warned young women about when discussing the protection of their virtue? One touch and every warning ever heard melted away as the need for more burned through her body and soul.
‘More,’ she begged and he did. More. And kept doing more, proving his hand as wicked as his mouth, until that tension built so strong and so tight in her core that it had to break.
Her body arched and tightened and he relentlessly caressed her, until every bit of that splendid tension spilled out, leaving her empty and yet full at the same time.
And even now, four years later, her body still remembered his touch and wanted more.
* * *
If she continued to move and to breathe like that, he was going to lose control and take her once and for all.
Rob listened in the dark and Lilidh’s breathing grew tight and tense. If she was dreaming, did she picture her husband pleasuring her? If awake, did she remember Iain’s caresses now? Even a fool or madman would recognise the way she breathed, the way her body responded to being touched and caressed and...more.
Even his body reacted to hers—he hardened and begged for attention. Her attention. Her body. To finish the pleasure they’d begun all those years ago when she was to be his. A moan, one barely loud enough to be heard, whispered across the bed between them.
‘More,’ she whispered in a low, husky voice.
Rob bit his tongue to keep from saying anything. Shemust be dreaming. She must be. Even knowing that Iain must be at the centre of her thoughts did not lessen his burning desire for her. His hands itched to reach over and touch her as he used to, when they loved. When he loved her.
