Chapter 18
Dougal found her in the attic when he arrived, pages spread across her lap, candlelight catching the furrow between her eyebrows that meant she was thinking too hard about something she couldn’t quite pin down.
It seemed that she had arrived early and been waiting longer than he had intended, which was his fault. He had some work to do, papers to review. It took him longer than he would have liked, his mind still preoccupied by Skye and Lily’s safety.
“How does the story go tonight, lass?”
Skye glanced up, her cheeks coloring the way they always did when he caught her unaware. “I… daenae ken, truthfully. It seems I am stuck once again.”
“Ye daenae ken? Ye’ve always got something to say about it.”
“The real Lion is far too confusing to write.” She set the pages aside, studying him with a tilt of her head. Dougal didn’t miss the accusation in her eyes, but he wore it like a badge of pride since he could rattle her so much. “And much less scary than the one I invented.”
Well, that was unexpected.
He settled into the chair across from her, unable to suppress a smirk. “Is that so?”
After their argument the other night, he did not expect her to say such a thing, but she seemed to mean it.
She locked eyes with him, refusing to look away. She was growing braver by the day. Dougal wasn’t sure what to make of it, but a small part of him certainly found it exciting. Unpredictability was not what he would have expected from her.
“It is.” She lifted her chin, though the color in her cheeks hadn’t faded. “But me sister told me I should still fear ye. She warned me many times before I came here.”
“And why is that?”
“Because a man like ye could always break me heart.” The words came out quiet, an admission she seemed to regret the moment it left her.
“Yer sister is right.” He said it plainly, no cruelty in it, only truth.
His chest tightened at the sight of her searching his face for a jest that wasn’t coming.
“I’ve never claimed to be safe, Skye. In fact, I remember telling ye the opposite.
I’ve warned ye again and again that I am nae a safe man. ”
“I ken it.” She twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I think I kent it from the very start.”
“And yet ye’re still here,” he felt the need to point out.
Skye could have ended this at any point before the month was over. She could have returned to her family, leaving everything unsaid between them. Dougal would have moved on, continuing to raise Lily. He imagined Skye would have continued to write once she got over her writer’s block.
“Aye.” She fixed him with a stubborn yet soft look. “But why did ye want to meet again? What more is there to say?”
“I told ye I would push ye, lass,” he reminded her, causing her to blush.
He rose, crossing to kneel before her chair the way he had before, though this time his hands found her wrists slowly, giving her every chance to stop him.
“No kissing,” she reminded him, breathless.
“I remember the rule, lass.” His thumb traced slow circles against her pulse point. “It still stands, then?”
“It stands.” A pause, her breath catching as his hands slid to the hem of her skirts. “Though I couldnae rightly tell ye why anymore.”
“I ken why, even if ye willnae say it.”
Skye kept silent.
“Are ye comfortable, lass?” His voice was low, careful in a way that undid her more than any bold words could have. “Tell me if ye’re nae. I’ll stop the moment ye ask it of me.”
“I’m comfortable.” The words came out barely above a whisper, her hands already fisting in the fabric of her skirts, anticipation coiled tight in every inch of her. “Please, Dougal.”
It was a far cry from the woman who had been unsure the first time they had been together. She had seemed so confused, surprised by everything. But this time he could see her desire. She was no longer confused. She craved the pleasure he was offering her, craved release.
But Dougal was not a fool. He knew she was inexperienced. The fact that he was the first one to touch her, the first one to make her climax, filled him with a desire he had once thought dead and nonexistent.
He pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the inside of her knee, feeling her shiver beneath his touch, and told himself once more that a month was nothing.
But he was already beginning to doubt it, and the doubt sat strangely in his chest, unfamiliar as most things about her had become since she’d first arrived at the castle, pages in hand, her stubbornness bright and unmistakable in her eyes that first evening.
He didn’t have to wait long for her to do or say anything. She was already breathing heavily, her body trembling in anticipation of the pleasure he was about to give her. She was becoming so wanton that he grew half hard right then.
The desire had been there the first night he had tasted her. It was about giving her pleasure. It was about taking her apart and putting her back together.
She let out a desperate whine and jerked her hips as he trailed playful kisses up and down her inner thighs. Sometimes his lips would come close to her sex, but then he would move right back to her thighs.
Another whine of frustration escaped her, but he paid it no mind. He was going to give her pleasure at his own pace.
He kept teasing her until she was dripping, her legs quivering with anticipation. Then he slid one finger over her swollen nether lips. She cried out, and he chuckled, positive she was about to break down and beg him for more.
Dougal pressed a firm kiss to her bud, and she jerked, biting back a whimper.
“Daenae stifle yer moans,” he murmured against her, his warm breath tickling the lips of her sex.
She cried out when he pressed another kiss to her bud, before his tongue slid down to her entrance, teasing it. Her hips bucked, wanting more pressure and friction. She needed him to touch her deeper, needed him to give her release.
He continued teasing her, his tongue flicking against her bud while his fingers teased her entrance. She babbled, begging him for more. His soft, teasing touches were driving her insane, and she couldn’t stand it.
It hadn’t even been that long. How was she so close to losing it already?
Finally, he slid his tongue inside her. His thumb pressed firmly against her swollen bud, making her eyes almost roll to the back of her head.
Between his thumb and tongue, she was a mess. Words spilled past her lips, but she could not make sense of them. She sank her teeth into her lower lip and spread her legs as far as she could, giving him better access.
He cupped her buttocks and buried his face further into her sex. She cried out as his tongue thrust in and out of her, pushing her closer to the edge.
How was he managing to stay so calm?
This woman was going to be his undoing. Dougal could see that now.
His length was throbbing within the confines of his trousers, but he ignored it. His sole focus was to make Skye climax once again.
She shattered with a sharp, breathless cry, her body arching hard as the climax crashed through her in powerful waves. Dougal held her through every pulse, his mouth still working her until the last tremor faded and her hips finally stilled.
When it was over, she nearly slumped in her chair.
He pulled down her skirts and then helped her to her feet.
Only then did Dougal ease away, gently drawing her skirts back into place before rising and helping her to her feet, steadying her with a firm hand at her waist when her legs threatened to give way.
“We should go to bed,” he said, his voice thick with desire.
Skye blinked slowly. Her eyes swept over his body, landing on the bulge in his trousers, and her mouth formed the shape of an O.
“Aye, we should,” she blurted out.
She didn’t move right away, cheeks still flushed, hands unsteady as she smoothed her skirts. It pleased him more than it should have.
“Did ye learn anything tonight, lass?” he asked, amusement creeping into his voice.
She lifted her chin. “I learned that if this is meant to be a punishment, ye might find me disobeying ye far more often.”
He chuckled as she hurried to the door with a curt goodnight. He didn’t call her back, though he wanted to.
When he touched himself that night in the privacy of his room, he did so with images of her in his mind.
The next morning, Stephen found him in the yard in a much better mood. His eyebrows shot up, a smirk curving his lips.
“Well, well.”
Dougal rolled his eyes. “Well what?”
“Just well.”
“Stephen, ye are trying me patience. Say what ye have to say, or leave me be.”
Stephen chuckled. “It’s just… ye’re whistling.”
“I am nae.”
“Ye were. I heard it plain as day when I was coming down the corridor,” he insisted. “In fact, I cannae remember the last time I heard ye whistle. Didnae think ye were capable of making such a happy, upbeat sound.”
Dougal wasn’t going to take the bait. He wasn’t.
“Ye’re imagining things, Stephen.”
“Am I?” Stephen teased. “I think I ken why ye are so happy. Ye have the look that all men get after a very good night’s sleep.”
“I slept fine,” Dougal grunted.
Alas, it wasn’t enough to get Stephen off his back.
“Aye, I’d wager ye did.” Stephen grinned. “Something to do with a certain lass, perhaps?”
“Stephen, ye are truly playing with fire. What has gotten into ye this morning? Did ye have whiskey a little earlier than usual?”
“I’m only saying that ye look… lighter. Nae so much like a man carrying the weight of the whole Highlands on his shoulders.” He clapped a hand on Dougal’s shoulder, entirely too pleased with himself. “It suits ye.”
“Have ye nothing better to do than pester me?” Dougal shot him a glare.
“Nay, nae really.” Stephen laughed, unbothered. “Ye can glare at me all ye like, me Laird, but I ken what I saw. And what I heard. A whistling, smiling laird isnae something I get to witness often.”
“I wasnae smiling.”
“Ye’re doing it right now.”
Dougal flattened his expression immediately.
Stephen only laughed harder, shaking his head as he walked off toward the stables. “Whatever’s got ye in such a mood,” he called back over his shoulder, “I hope it lasts, me Laird. Ye wear it well.”
Dougal said nothing, though he found himself fighting the smile threatening at the corner of his mouth the entire walk back to the castle.
He wasn’t going to admit that Stephen was right. No way he was going to do that, but his friend knew him well enough to figure it out.