A Beautiful Lie (The Camaraes) (22 page)

Lachlan sighed heavily. 
“
And then I found you and handed you back over to that bastard,
”
he spat, self-disgust evident in his tone.

“
You didn
’
t know,
”
Muira said quietly.

“
That night, he tried again?
”
Lachlan scowled, and Muira nodded.

“
But you saved me,
”
she said, with a small smile. 
“
And then look what I did to you,
”
she finished sadly. 

Lachlan kissed her again instead of responding with words, deeply and fiercely, his tongue surging between her lips as he trying to relate something that he was unable to say.

“
I am sorry, Lachlan,
”
Muira gasped breathlessly when her mouth was released from its sweet imprisonment. 
“
If I
’
d only thought- if I could do it all again I
’
d-
”
she was silence by her husband pressing a finger against her lips.

“
Don
’
t lass,
”
he said gruffly. 
“
I
’
m beginning to think that I really was your only escape.
”

“
So you
’
re- you
’
re not angry with me anymore, for what I did?
”
Muria asked hopefully.  So knew that it was a rather huge thing to ask him, and it was probably still too near the event for Lachlan to fully be able to forgive her, but she just couldn
’
t stop the words from spilling forth.

Lachlan stared at her silently for a moment, but then turned his head and looked away. 
“
You
’
ve had a long day, you should sleep,
”
he muttered. 

Muira felt her heart sink, which was odd, she considered.  Given how awful things could have been between her and Lachlan, they really weren
’
t too terribly bad.  In fact, considering that she had thought he might try to
kill
her things were positively rosy, and yet
…

“
Let me strip off this top blanket and they you can lie down,
”
Lachlan said gently, interrupting Muira thoughts.  She looked at him in question, and then down at the covers.  Her cheeks burned in humiliation when she saw the red stain of her lost innocence.

“
Oh my- I should-
”

“
Leave it,
”
Lachlan said gently, lifting her with him as he stood.  He kissed her cheek soothingly, seemingly sensitive to her embarrassment. 
“
I
’
m glad I was the first man to have you,
”
he whispered huskily, and Muira felt her discomfort waiver in the face of this affirmation.  She watched him pull off the blanket and leave it in a corner of the room, returning to her side to add:
“
the
only
man to ever have you.
”

“
Lachlan-
”
she began breathlessly, but a light kiss was dotting on the tip of her nose as she was nudged back into bed.

“
Sleep now,
”
he yawned, extinguishing the candles as Muira obediently crawled into bed.  She listened to the whisper of fabric in the dark, as her husband took off his kilt, before joining her in bed just as he had the night before, gloriously naked.

The fact stirred something in Muria now, something that was definitely not fear.  Lachlan had awoken the sleeping passion of feminine, and everything that had once seemed threatening now appeared thrilling.  Muira shivered when her husband reached for her, pulling her back against his chest.

“
Cold?
”
he asked sleepily, draping an arm around her waist and holding her tight.

“
No,
”
Muira gasped, wondering if she would ever be permitted to sleep without her gown, and wondering at herself for having such thoughts! 

She felt Lachlan kiss her neck one last time, before her warrior husband settled down to sleep.  His breathing was deep and regular almost the second his head touched the pillows.  Muira was less able to slip into dreamy slumbers however; she had
far
too much to think about.  She was replaying the night
’
s events in her mind, reliving every kiss, every caress
…
every thrust of Lachlan
’
s hips.  She licked her dry lips, growing restless just from the memory. 

The moment of pain when he had taken her had been intense, both physically and emotionally.  She
’
d been convinced in that second that although their bodies had never been closer their hearts and minds had been leagues apart, but then slowly everything had merged together in a swirling vortex of white-hot bliss.

It wasn
’
t love, Muira arguing, yawning herself as her eyelids grew steadily heavier.  It wasn
’
t love
…
but maybe it could be?

..ooOOoo..

It was surprisingly cold when Muira woke the next morning.  At some point in the night she had rolled away from the warmth of Lachlan
’
s body, and with one less blanket on the bed, and winter fast approaching, she was suffering for it now. 

Muira shivered, and turned onto her other side so that she could face her husband as she curled up against his chest.  It was light enough to make out the features of his face.  His poor black eyes were beginning to lessen, they were no longer a terrifying purplish-blue, but had faded to a yellowy-green.  His cuts were similarly starting to heal.  She hoped that her own bruises were healing just as quickly.  She wasn
’
t looking forward to meeting Lachlan
’
s family looking like the loser in a tavern brawl
…
she couldn
’
t honestly say that she was looking forward to meeting them in the first place.

Sighing heavily, she nestled still closer to her husband, daring to touch him in a way she hadn
’
t the night before.  She laid a hand flat against his broad chest, raking her fingers over the hard muscle and through the spattering of soft, dark hair. 
Her husband
…
she marvelled,
hers
.  She left one hand were it was, but let the other drift higher until she was lightly tracing his lips with her fingertips.  She wanted to touch all of him.  She wanted to be allowed to explore. 

She didn
’
t dare take her explorations further just yet though.  However, Muira did wriggle up the mattress so that her mouth was level with his own.  She could explain her desire to kiss him, she just knew that once the notion had taken root she was unable to ignore it.  Holding her breath, she left forward, dapping her lips to his, pleased, but unsurprised, that the little frisson of heat was still there. 

Muira pulled back, smiling softly, and then gasped and blushed when Lachlan
’
s eyes flickered open, a smile in their sleepy depths.

“
Good morning,
”
he purred, his voice thick and husky.

“
Good morning,
”
Muira echoed, a little breathlessly it had to be said. 
“
I thought you were asleep,
”
she murmured stupidly.  Her husband
’
s grinned widened.

“
And that was a very pleasant way to be woken up I
’
m sure,
”
he chuckled, and then he rolled on to his back, taking Muira with him so that she was lying atop his chest.  She looked a little uncertain in her new position. 
“
I did say that I
’
d let you ride me,
”
he explained wickedly, lifting his hips, and making Muira quite aware off the jutting hardness that was pressing into her thigh.

“
I- I
’
m not sure I know how to,
”
she whispered shakily.  A mix of hesitance and enthusiasm rushed through her body, and with it a low burning fire that smoulder in her womb.

“
I can teach you,
”
Lachlan purred, but first her pulled her into his arms for a deep, dizzying kiss that started Muira
’
s body pulsing faster through her veins. 

He cupped the sides of her face, letting his tongue surge between her lips, until she was fully entranced, and then he let his hands wander down her body.  Muira was only half conscious of Lachlan positioning her body, bending her knees and shifting her legs until she was straddling him at the waist, she was too desperately trying to keep up with the demands of his mouth.

However, she did squeal when his fingers burrowed under her nightdress to start tickling her
there
again.  Her neck arched and she started to pant- oh but it felt so wickedly good! 
He
made her feel so wickedly good.