Chapter 15
Willow was dimly aware that reality existed outside the room. Still, it was so damned far away that it scarcely mattered. What mattered was how she was just torn from the exquisite sensations that were just rocking her down to the core of her being.
She had heard some talk of pleasure between persons, but hearing and feeling were two very different things. Willow was desperate for the relief that came after this wild build-up Keegan had caused. The need for it was so strong, in fact, that tears sprung to her eyes as it was ripped from her.
“No!” Her eyes flared wide, and she looked up at Keegan like the pathetic, wanton woman she’d become. “Please, ye…cannae leave me like this!”
Keegan stared down at her, dark, sinful eyes hungry to consume her. “I will hear ye then, Willow.”
Her body thrummed, rampant, unfamiliar humming taking over her from head to foot. She sobbed gently, a tear sliding down her face, and Willow was unable to keep herself still, her body still seeking out friction to ignite those embers once more.
“I…I am tellin' ye for me people, me sister! I cannae see them harmed. I’ve told ye.”
Willow’s voice was a beg, and she hated how it sounded, even as she couldn’t stop herself. She needed more of Keegan’s wondrous touch.
“As ye’ve said,” he flicked over her skin, teasing her and making her jump but also not allowing the need for release to diminish, “and there is more.”
“Keegan, I—”
He cupped her, pressing the heel of his hand to that swollen, aching spot at the front of her seam, and her words were gone.
“Willow, daenae lie to me.”
She struggled to look him in the eye. “I also daenae wish to perish on the field, and I ken me brother will have no care for me! I dinnae wish to tell ye that for fear of the exchange. That is all!”
He studied her, pushing hard on her sensitive skin until she let out a pained whimper.
“It isnae all. I can see it behind those bonny hazel eyes of yers. Say the last, lassie.”
Willow was at her wit’s end. She could hardly think of what to say as the need for more of that intoxicating buzz in her nerves consumed her. Was there more to the truth? Was there something that she had not said?
Bloody hell, are there words at all?
She was far past worked up, and against any sense of propriety or restraint that she may have had earlier, Willow grabbed hold of Keegan’s hand at the wrist, holding it steady as she rocked her hips back and forth.
Och, that…I need so much more…of that…
“Ye are such a naughty wee thing.” Keegan pressed back with his knee, forcing Willow into the bookcase and locking his hand tightly against her; she could not get what she wanted like this. “I will admit the sight of ye like this…all a mess for want. It is so verra lovely.”
“Please, Keegan! I will perish! Ye must—”
He seized her chin, making Willow’s bleary eyes find his on instinct. “Och, now, lass. Ye ken well what I need ye to do. If ye wish for that delicious release—which I would verra much like to see meself—ye will need to speak for me.”
Willow didn’t know what to do. What was it that he wanted to hear? What was she holding back?
Still, as much as she was continuing to act unaware even to herself, the dark, potent thought at the back of her mind cried out once more. She knew the truth, knew what she wasn’t saying. But she couldn’t. Willow could not allow those words to reach the light of day.
But why?
The little voice in her mind, the one she’d long attributed to her pure self, asked the question as if all this was a simple matter. But the rest of Willow remained terrified of the consequences.
“Come now, Willow.” Keegan dropped his head to her throat, kissing and nipping at her overheated flesh.
He was so very skilled with this unique form of interrogation. Willow didn’t want to be the type of woman to succumb to it, but she could not deny how he played her body like a fiddle. His fingers found hidden chords and strummed them to perfect, creating a symphony of lustful sounds.
He doesnae need to do this. He doesnae need to protect ye and keep his word to ye. But he has. He has, Willow.
That voice was as demanding as the tiny flickers of sensations Keegan granted her. The press of his hand on her still sent fire through that perfect spot, and Willow’s mind was unraveling more and more with each moment.
“If somethin'…”
“Aye, lass? Tell me.” Keegan pulled back his knee only to pat on her delicate skin once more, the feeling making her jump and ache for more.
Willow gasped. It was shaky and pathetic, and damn herself to hell and back, but she didn’t care. She needed more of what Keegan was doing to her, and she would do just about anything to get it. Even this.
“If somethin' were to go awry…” She barely whispered, but Keegan was close enough to hear every syllable, and he rewarded her by starting up gentle strokes along her seam. “If me brother’s men landed an attack on ye…”
“That’s it, lass. Ye’re doing well for me.” Keegan slipped a finger past the exterior, and Willow damn near melted into a pool of water.
“I…I…wouldnae forgive meself.”
Another finger slid past that first barrier, and together, they began to sink inside her once more. Willow clamped down around him, and Keegan’s previous rhythm began anew—if torturously slowly.
“Why, lassie? Why would ye be so affected?”
Her blood pounded in every part of her, a throb in her nethers, in her temples, in her very soul. Willow arched up off the shelves as Keegan turned his hand and hooked his fingers into that spot at the top of her walls. She surged around him, his touch drawing out warmth and wetness.
“Willow,” he dragged out, and when she still didn’t say anything, Keegan stopped again.
“Nay!” Her eyes flared open, and she met the laird’s taunting smirk with a teary stare. “Please! I…I daenae…”
“Aye?” He pressed hard into that same area.
“Ugh!” She was right there, back at that precipice once more. “I…I daenae…”
It was no use. The confession would be heard, and even as she knew that she would be regretting this after, Willow could not keep the words contained.
“I daenae want ye to be hurt…or die!”
Satisfaction spread over Keegan’s face as he stared down at her. Willow trembled, everything burning to the point that she couldn’t think of anything else.
“That’s me sweet, sweet lassie.”
Moving like a furious strike, Keegan surged forward and claimed Willow’s lips in a feverish kiss. The touch was maddening and fire and all-consuming.
And then he tended to that ache between her legs, stroking deep within her in a quicker pace that sent her right up to the damned stars and back. Overwhelming sensations rocked Willow beyond this world, and she crashed through the most earth-shattering experience of her life.
Ripples of pleasure took over her body, and Keegan’s furious motions within her kept on until her bones had disappeared, and she couldn’t so much as stand on her own. Willow sagged against the shelves, separating their kiss, and then her head dropped to Keegan’s chest.
“My, my, lass. Ye certainly can make quite the commotion.”
Willow peeked up at him, without lifting her head. As she took in his content smirk, she cocked a brow.
“What?”
“Are ye nae aware of how ye moaned against me lips? I’d be surprised if there was a single person in the castle who dinnae hear ye.”
Heat swelled through her cheeks, mortification seizing her tightly enough to choke her. She could hardly catch her breath before, and now Willow was stammering, unable to take even one lungful of air.
“I…I-I dinnae…I wouldnae…”
Keegan just chuckled softly, and Willow was ever so tempted to swat him on the arm.
But her attention was swiftly pulled away as she shifted and was made aware of Keegan’s fingers still coiled in her channel.
A strangled groan left her as the movement stirred her nerves again, and Willow internally balked.
How was it possible that her body could still respond like that to him? Was it possible that she might be able to…do that again?
Nay. Come now, Willow. That was…Nay. Ye mustn’t.
Seeing the flicker of affection touch Willow’s face, Keegan smirked once more, slowly withdrawing himself from her. She whimpered at the sudden emptiness, and still, she wondered at how much her body could take. It was clearly not of the same notions as her mind.
“Ye worry for me. Do ye, lass?”
Willow looked up to Keegan, her eyes beginning to burn as so many sensations—the slick between her legs, the subtle ache, the drying tears on her cheeks—made it difficult for her to even think. All she could do was nod.
In a move that Willow did not expect, Keegan leaned forward, kissing away the lingering wetness on her face.
He smoothed the desperate tears away with his caresses and then removed his knee, allowing her skirts to fall back into place.
There was a silence that spread between them like the night sky, and Willow found her gaze roaming over Keegan’s face and body as if her mind were trying to memorize him thoroughly.
Embarrassment flooded around her again as she glanced down at his hand, seeing the glistening slick covering his fingers.
Oh, God. I have truly…How could I have…
Still, Keegan was hardly done surprising her, a fact she believed that she might see for the remainder of their time together.
As gently, as sweetly, as the laird had kissed away her tears, Keegan slid his tongue down the length of his fingers.
Willow gaped in utter disbelief, and that odd stirring sensation in her blood called out once more.
Something about that is…alluring.
“Ye need nae worry over me, lass,” Keegan drawled, smiling as he hooked his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “It will take a lot more than the surprise tactics of yer brother to end me. Ye forget…”
Willow waited on edge for his response, still at a loss for what had happened between them and if she regretted it or not.
“I have dealt with Magnus before.” Keegan hovered his lips over hers, the ghost of his touch making them tingle. “A man like him could never be the death of me.”
Keegan’s lips met Willow’s once more, and she could taste the result of their passion on his tongue. It was a thrilling yet terrifying experience, and she was as bewildered as a lad pished on his first cup of ale.
“Ye will be returnin' to yer room for the evenin', Willow. When the day of the exchange arrives, ye will see for yerself the strength of Clan Brahanne.”
With a final rough and claiming kiss, Keegan stole himself from her and walked to the door. He pulled it open in a hurry, pushing through and leaving Willow to stand there awestruck.
After a moment or two, Rodrick entered the study. He stopped just inside the door and bowed his head toward her. Willow remained frozen in place against the shelves.
“Would ye follow me, me lady? It is time to be getting ye back to yer room.”
Willow nodded, unspeaking, and then approached Rodrick as if she were already asleep on her feet. He gestured out the door, and Willow stepped through, following the familiar route to her borrowed chambers.
As she walked down the stone hallway, Willow was quite sure that an easy rest would not be coming for her that night—and that she required a bath.
Perhaps two.