Seducing the Highlander (22 page)

BOOK: Seducing the Highlander
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“If it’s a ride you want, lass, I’ll gladly oblige.” Ignoring her protests, her husband slid one of his long- fingered hands skillfully between the parted cloth and found her bare breast. His grin was both cheeky and unrepentant as he began to stroke and cup her flesh.
And damn him, she melted predictably, his sensual allure like a potent drug she’d become addicted to in the past days, her knees weakening. However, she’d come to suspect that not only did her handsome husband ardently enjoy making love to her for hours on end, but also that some of his amorous impulses, like at this moment, were conveniently designed to keep her from leaving the house. “Not that kind of ride,” she muttered, finding his hand moving against her skin very distracting.
Lightly pinching her nipple, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I promise I can be more fun than a cross-country gallop, lass. I’ll even let you be on top and set the pace. Think of that movement, with me deep inside you.”
Her resolve crumbled a little at the sensation of his warm breath against her sensitive skin. “We made love this morning,” she said in weak protest, swaying a little as he brought her breast to full aching arousal.
“That was hours ago. . . . I need you again.” Robbie slipped his other hand into her chemise, so both breasts were captive in his palms.
“The servants talk about us.” It was an inane thing to say to the man whom most of Scotland whispered over as a sexual legend, and he chuckled.
“Good.” His mouth caressed her cheek, and he kissed her lips with lingering pressure. “Tell me, what are they saying? Am I living up to their expectations?”
“As far as I can tell, you are
up
most of the time, McCray.”
“I certainly am right now, sweet wife.”
He was, she saw as her gaze traveled to the crotch of his breeches, that telltale bulge not a surprise. Though she hadn’t ever known another man carnally, there seemed little doubt that Robbie’s libido was proportionate to his reputation as a virile lover. In bed, he was tireless, and she was always the one who fell asleep first in contented exhaustion. One last time, she argued, “I don’t want to waste this lovely afternoon.”
He looked into her eyes then, his dark gaze so hot it made her catch her breath. “Now, there’s a challenge if I’ve ever heard one, love.”
He had her out of her newly donned chemise so fast she hardly realized what had happened, and in moments he also was magnificently nude, the toned muscle and sinew under his bronzed skin accented by the afternoon sunshine. Robbie kissed her with his usual audacious abandon, all invading, possessive tongue and firm lips, his hands outrageously roaming to every sensitive spot on her body. When his fingers slid into the cleft between her legs, it felt so decadently wonderful she gasped against his mouth.
“Wet and warm and ready, my love . . . here.”
He tumbled her easily onto the bed, but instead of mounting her at once, he rolled to his back and smiled with a provocative invitation that could have seduced a nun. Long, elegant fingers went to his impressive erection, lightly stroking the hard length that pulsed against his flat stomach. “Sit on this,” her husband suggested huskily, wiping the seeping tip. “Take it all the way inside you and ride it like a wild stallion.”
Sit on it?
Not for the first time, Julia wondered if maybe she was too easily intrigued by his blatant sexuality and utterly masculine allure. His touch, his teasing smile, those seductively beautiful dark eyes . . . she was drawn into a spell that held her captive, unable to resist both his physical possession and his vibrant personality.
She’d thought she had loved Adain, but it had felt nothing like this unruly passion. This bothered her, for while she had sought out a husband for pragmatic reasons, it was something altogether different to fall in love with him.
How many women had succumbed to Robbie McCray’s sensual charm? Probably too many to count, because aside from sexual prowess, he was infinitely likable. God help her, even Adain seemed to be warming up to the man.
Moving slowly, she eased up his long body, feeling his hands go to her hips as she rose above him and spread her legs to straddle his torso. Grasping the hardened length of his engorged shaft, Julia shut her eyes and exhaled in pleasure as she guided the tip to her throbbing entrance and slowly sank down.
Robbie made a sound, a purely male groan that indicated his enjoyment as his cock filled her inch by inch. When she was fully impaled, Julia followed the urging of his hands and began to move, lifting up to sink down, the motion actually reminiscent of a rolling canter on a fast horse. Hands braced on his broad shoulders, she rose and fell, finding the slide of his sex inside hers a revelation in pleasure. The delicious friction made her pant, her long hair swinging with each upward thrust and downward glide.
“That’s it.” Robbie’s eyes were half-closed, thick, dark lashes a contrast to the angle of his cheekbones. “I love the way your gorgeous tits move when you are on top of me like this.”
She could also feel her breasts sway as she rode his cock, the gentle bobbing motion somehow adding to the erotic enjoyment of what she was doing. Almost frantic as the pleasure built, Julia tightened her thighs and pushed up and down as fast as she could, a small sob of need escaping her throat. It felt wonderful, the wetness of her arousal coating his stiff cock, her body humming, it was so tight and ready for climax.
And when her husband slid his fingers between their melded bodies and stroked her, Julia cried out, the gentle manipulation exactly what she craved, her orgasm so intense she went completely still as her inner muscles clenched and tightened, rapturous joy taking away any rational thought. She was barely aware when Robbie rolled her over and began to move, thrusting hard twice into her before he groaned and the hot spill of his seed rushed inside her still quivering passage.
Damp, relaxed, and in each other’s arms, they lay comfortably on the soft bed as their respiration returned to normal. Julia was discovering a world of sexual pleasure with her new husband, of that there was little doubt, but she was also awakening to the pure joy of tactile sensation. The slightly stubbled hardness of his jaw, the smoothness of his warm skin over the bulge of those impressive muscles, the satiny strength of his erect penis with that soft sac beneath. When they were still intertwined like they were at this moment, she could indulge her curiosity and let her fingers explore his body, and he quite often did the same thing with hers, stroking her skin, tangling his hands in her long tresses, his mouth caressing her temple and cheek. The intimacy of it was startling, but . . . wonderful.
Tracing a line down Robbie’s broad chest, her head resting on his shoulder, Julia couldn’t help but finally ask the question that had been plaguing her, even though she was fairly certain she wasn’t going to like the answer. “Is it like this always?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, a purely male wariness invading his dark gaze. “Is what like what?”
Julia bit her lip, trying to stifle the pangs of jealousy and only mildly succeeding. “All the scores of women you’ve bedded, McCray, did you lie with them afterward and hold them close, whispering to them like you do to me? Did you make them feel . . .”
When she trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence, Robbie’s hand found her chin and cupped it, forcing her to look up at him. “Did I make them feel what?”
“Like you loved them.” Almost defiantly, Julia met his gaze.
“Is that how I make you feel, lass?”
This turning of the tables was not precisely what she’d had in mind when she broached the subject. Julia sat up and pulled free in a flurry of dark, disheveled hair and said tartly, “I didn’t say that.”
Robbie reached over and hauled her back into his arms, sending her sprawling across his bare chest. “Don’t leave now, my bewitching wife; this discussion is just getting interesting. So, let’s make sure I understand you. You think I might be falling in love with you, is that it? It only seems fair that you should also feel that way about me. I think you do. There’s fire between us, and it is starting to take hold and burn brightly.”
He was impossibly arrogant, she thought with irritation, though the fear he might be right was a niggling suspicion she didn’t care to acknowledge. “Let me go, McCray. It was a foolish thing to say, and that isn’t what I meant at all.”
“What if I told you that it’s true, lass? I’ve never felt this way about any woman, whether I bedded her or not.” He said the words in a quiet voice that was completely unlike his usual teasing tone.
Julia stopped struggling to break free and stared. His expression was serious and there was uncharacteristic vulnerability in the set of his beautiful mouth. “You like to fuck me,” she said quickly, using the crude word he often said just to shock her.
Robbie laughed, his mouth curving wickedly. “Aye, I’ll not deny that. I like to fuck you.” His hands smoothed down her back, and he gently squeezed her naked buttocks. “But there’s more to you than just your delectable body, Julia, and I’m discovering more every day. I never tire of your company. I admire your fire, the way you challenge me, the kind ways you have with the servants, your sassy mouth.” His gaze dropped suggestively. “In truth, your mouth appeals to me in many ways. Kiss me, Julia, for I’ve just answered your question.”
Was he sincere?
His power to charm and disarm was potent; she shouldn’t forget that. But her arms slid around his neck, and she kissed him anyway, a lover’s kiss, tender and soft. He responded in kind, cradling her close as he seduced her lips and tongue with skilled, ardent persuasion. And moments later, when he pressed her back onto the tumbled sheets and entered her, it was with slow and tantalizing long strokes, their bodies moving fluidly as they mated, gazes locked in sensual communion.
She’d never experienced such pleasure, such physical and emotional elation.
But then again, she’d never made love before.
 
 
The study door was ajar, the voices within subdued. Entering the room, Robbie closed the door behind him and said mildly, “Sorry I am late.”
Adain Cameron glanced up, his face briefly tightening as he said caustically, “Glad you could spare a minute to join us, McCray. I sent someone up for you almost an hour ago.”
“I must have missed their knock.” Since he actually liked Julia’s cousin upon closer acquaintance and knew the struggle Cameron had with his jealousy, Robbie didn’t expound on why he had ignored the servant at the door. He nodded at John Hexham, noting how the young man looked both grim and triumphant. “I take it you found out something useful.”
Still dressed for traveling, his boots dusty and his fair hair wind-tossed, Hexham nodded. “I found out plenty, sir; of that you can be sure. It is exactly as you suspected. The Earl of Larkin has markers from here to Edinburgh and back. His credit is no longer good almost anywhere in Scotland, and word is beginning to spread. The estate is heavily mortgaged, and matters only seem to be growing more dire each passing day.”
Adain Cameron said stiffly, “I’ve known Edward my whole life, McCray. He has his weaknesses for wine and cards; it’s no secret. But that doesn’t make him a murderer.”
“What about his sister?”
“She’s a woman. The idea of Therese killing anyone is ludicrous.”
“Is it?” Robbie asked, narrowing his gaze. It was getting dark, and the open study windows let in the soft sounds of birds as they gathered in the dusk. “She’s a woman, aye. I’ve met her kind before. That particular brand of cold calculation makes me want to get on my horse and ride away as fast as possible. I know they were here when your uncle was murdered, but tell me, were by chance the Gibbonses here visiting also when Randal disappeared?”
Adain’s mouth tightened. “Yes, they were. They stay often.”
“It doesn’t make you suspicious that every time someone comes to harm, your friend Edward and his sister are here?”
Cameron shoved himself to his feet and paced across the room. He muttered, “Before now, no. Why should it? The Gibbons family have been allies of the Camerons for literally centuries, the association starting generations ago. I don’t remember not knowing Edward.”
Hexham cleared his throat. “There’s more, sir. A few years ago, an aunt, one who had a modest fortune that she intended to leave to Edward Gibbons, fell to her death from the balcony off her bedroom. No one could figure out how it could have happened, for the woman was healthy and in her right mind, and the railing was sound. Lady Therese happened to be visiting the aunt at the time. The money staved up the earl’s failing fortunes for a while.”
“Good God.” Cameron stopped pacing, his expression growing disillusioned. “Therese?”
“She’s a fair-sized woman,” Robbie pointed out coolly. “Perfectly capable of tossing an old lady off a balcony, at a guess.”
John Hexham stated flatly, “Randal told me she tried to seduce him.” The young man’s face reddened, but he went on doggedly, “He refused, naturally. . . . Even if he had been so inclined, I think he was beginning to guess at the same thing McCray suspects. He told me she came to his room, naked under her robe, and offered him her body. He certainly was not going to fall for such an open attempt to trap him into a marriage that had been suggested by her brother to his father many times but held no appeal for him. They had words and he wondered if she suspected his . . . secret. Not long afterward, he disappeared.”
“She tried the same ploy with me a few nights ago,” Adain admitted, looking faintly ill. “Luckily, I wasn’t
that
drunk. Damnation . . . I don’t like what you are saying, McCray, but you could be right.”
“Didn’t Edward conveniently find your uncle’s body?”
“Bloody hell, yes, he did. My God,” Adain rasped, “do they know what they’ve done? Two good men gone, all for their wicked greed. My life, also, ruined by the black whispers and suspicion.”

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