Sins of the Highlander (A Highland Erotic Romance) (3 page)

The thought of him bedding one of those women—any woman other than herself—made her skin crawl. Never.

Sweat broke out across Aileen’s brow. She was burning. This wasn’t right. John would punish her if Niall touched her, and Niall’s fate would be far worse.

She had to get away from him.

“I will send up a servant—”

He waved his hand, flinging a droplet to her lip. Her tongue darted out to capture the bead of water. The essence of Niall drifted across her tongue. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

“Please don’t bother the servants on my account. I can manage by myself.”

“Very well.” Slowly, she rose and dragged herself across the room. Leaving him hurt. It didn’t make any sense, but it felt like she left part of herself behind.

At the door, she paused. “Good night, Niall.”

His look was indecipherable. “Good night, my lady.”

It seemed to take forever for her to escape from the room into the dark hallway beyond. Once the door was firmly shut, she slumped against it, letting out a ragged, sobbing breath.

She didn’t know what had happened. She had never felt like that in a man’s presence before. Never.

Even now, erotic images fluttered through her mind. She pictured herself bending over the lip of the tub, naked, her bare bottom tilted high. Niall stood with his chest pressed to her back, his big hands on the cheeks of her behind, pumping his cock deep into her body. A contraction fluttered through her core, and Aileen’s knees went watery.

“Stop,” she whispered to herself. This was madness. She was no wanton harlot.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

She straightened to her full height and brushed the wrinkles from her dress. Being so close to him after not having seen a male body in its prime for years—she’d experienced a moment of weakness.

The past month had been so draining, what with Walter’s sudden death, his funeral and burial. And now she was summoned to the laird’s castle to learn her fate—a fate she knew she wouldn’t like.

That explained it. She was overwrought.

A few feet down the hall, a chamber door was cracked open. Aileen began to push it shut, but the gentle sound of splashing water came from within and she remembered that this room adjoined Niall’s.

The tinkling noises reeled her in like a lure. If she went inside, she could peek at him one more time, take her fill of that finely sculpted body. She’d look, drink him into her memory, then be satisfied enough to spend her time planning her trip to Ellandonan rather than fantasizing about a man she could never have.

Aileen tiptoed into the empty bedchamber. The door between the two chambers was open halfway. Gripping the edge, she peered around it.

Niall was still in the bath, his back at a slight angle to her. From this perspective, Aileen could see every detail of his long body sprawled in the water. Lazily, with his eyes closed, Niall reached up to the table and felt around until his fingers collided with the soap. He took it in his hand then plunged it underwater, pressing his cock against his belly.

Aileen stared, riveted.

Slowly, leisurely, he slid the soap down the underside of his cock, then lower, gently washing his ballocks. With his free hand, he grasped himself and jerked upward. Water slapped against the edges of the tub.

Clutching the side of the door, Aileen felt her lips part. Her mouth went dry. She had never seen a man pleasure himself before. As she watched, his shaft grew darker underwater, now a deep plum color, a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin everywhere else.

The soap fell through his fingers and thudded to the bottom of the tub. Niall gripped himself. Hand over hand, he pumped his fists from the base of his shaft to the head. The water rippled in concentric circles from his movements. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes.

Aileen had never seen anything so arousing. She imagined her own hands, mouth, and sheath filled with that cock. She bunched the fabric of her dress at her waist. It would be so easy to pull it up, reach down and rub herself in the place that begged to be touched.

Every nerve in her body pricked with desire, confusion, excitement. She had never explored herself with her fingers, never had the desire. She left the barbaric, lustful thoughts to her husband, who came in, used her and then left. Walter never made her feel like this. He never made her
want
.

Niall’s breath was ragged now. Each pull on his cock met with a harsh exhalation. Aileen fisted the fabric of her skirt tighter and watched a crimson flush spread from Niall’s neck to his ears and down his chest.

Still staring at the ceiling, he spoke, the word coming out as a half whisper, half groan. “Aileen.”

Aileen bit back a whimper. He was thinking of her, fantasizing about her. He desired her, perhaps as much as she desired him.

She wanted to go to him so badly, wanted to offer herself to him, wanted to ask him to take her in whatever way he pleased.

She couldn’t. It would be wrong, so wrong in so many ways. She needed to heed her duty to her clan. Within the month, she’d be betrothed to another man.

Niall’s muscles stood out in stark relief all over his body, rippling with exertion. The bronze glow from the fire made the sweat covering his chest and arms sparkle. With a final harsh grunt, Niall released his seed into the water. Aileen watched, fascinated, mad with lust, terrified, as the filmy cloud appeared.

All at once, Niall slumped. “Aileen,” he said again, but this time her name sounded like a mournful whisper.

Aileen fled.

She ran down the long passageway, straight to her bedchamber on its opposite end. Flying inside, she slammed the door shut behind her. Jannet, who had been waiting for her in a chair beside the fire, rose in alarm.

“Is something wrong, lady?”

Aileen put one hand flat on the door to steady herself. “It is nothing.”

“Are you sure? I could summon—”

Aileen rounded on her. “Summon no one, do you hear?”

Jannet’s face crumpled. “Aye, lady.”

Aileen immediately softened. She had given Jannet the esteemed position of lady’s maid only a few months ago, and she sometimes forgot how young the lass was. Barely thirteen and quite softhearted. Aileen had never lost her temper with her before.

“Shh…it is all right. Just comb out my hair, then you can sleep with your mother and sisters tonight,” she said gently. Jannet usually slept on the pallet beside Aileen’s bed, but tonight she wanted to be alone.

Jannet curtsied and fetched the hairbrush. Thankfully, she kept silent as she helped Aileen undress and combed out her hair. After she left, Aileen lay under the covers, shivering, staring at the top of her embroidered canopy.

She didn’t understand what had happened tonight. Why had Niall MacRae’s presence affected her so strongly?

All she knew was that she wanted him desperately. And he wanted her too.

How could it be? How could this happen so quickly, and with such force? He had just arrived at Dornoch this morning.

She had always liked, Niall. She’d always respected his strength and his deeply honorable nature. In those first days of her marriage, however, she was struggling with surviving with her husband in her new life. Niall was young and focused on his training. They might have shared an attraction if life hadn’t been in their way.

Now, she was no longer married. She was free.

Nay, she admonished herself. She was not free—she was bound to her half brother the laird and her clan. Ever since she was a child, she’d been used as a tool. Her marriage to Walter was nothing more than a political move involving a shuffling of lands and loyalties.

Aileen squeezed her eyes shut. What she wouldn’t give to be free. Just for one day. To be who and what she wanted to be. To be with Niall.

Niall. Aileen shuddered, remembering how the cords on his neck had tightened as he neared his completion. The bead of sweat sliding down his cheek…

How she wished she’d been free to join him in the bath. She would have been naked. He would have touched her. His big hands would completely engulf her breasts.

She pinched her nipples through her shift. How much better it would feel if he held them instead of her. He would be gentle with her, she knew—gentle yet firm. He would roll her nipples between his broad fingers…

He would teach her things she’d never dreamed of.

She pulled up the edge of her nightshift and cupped her mons. She’d wanted to do this while she’d watched him, but she’d been too panicked, too overwhelmed. Now, in the darkness of her chamber, it didn’t seem nearly so daunting.

She thrust her hips upward, pressing her mound into her hand. The motion sent a thrill of pleasure ricocheting through her.

Spreading her legs, Aileen burrowed her fingers between her folds. She was so hot down there. So hot and sensitive and slick. Niall would feel this when he touched her.

Oh, and it felt so good. Why had she never thought of exploring herself before?

She circled her entrance with her fingertips and thought of Niall’s cock head nuzzling against her. What would it feel like when he pushed inside her the first time? Would he thrust hard or would he take it slowly, relishing every moment as she took him deeper and deeper into her body?

Slowly, she slipped a finger inside. Her sheath tightened around it. But Niall was so much bigger. Would he hurt her? She pulled out and pushed two fingers in, tilting her hips so she could go deep, feeling how her body conformed.

Oh, it was delicious. She thrust them again, imagining the bigger, harder, smoother shape of Niall’s sex replacing her fingers. She could accommodate him, she was sure of it. It might hurt, but only at first. Then she would feel only pleasure as he invaded her body over and over. As he hovered over her, she’d stroke his muscled chest, the curve of his biceps. He’d whisper her name through clenched teeth, his voice so low and seductive, like he’d spoken in the bath.
Aileen. Aileen. Aileen.

Gasping, Aileen removed her fingers and brushed them over the sensitive tissue between the lips of her sex. “Oh…Lord,” she murmured. Just above her channel was an area so swollen and so sensitive, she could hardly touch it. Instead she circled around it. Tension built within her body and between her legs. Everywhere she touched was so wet. She could feel the juices of her lust dripping down the cleft of her behind. The muscles in her legs and buttocks and stomach clenched involuntarily.

Now she imagined Niall slamming into her. Sweat beaded on his temples, but his blue eyes were open, watching her, taking in her pleasure. Aileen pinched her nipple hard with her free hand. Her fingers flicked across her sensitive bud. She cried out. And then everything released. Like the flooding of a dam, it swept over her in long waves of pleasure, relaxing her clenched muscles. The waves rushed through her, each one smaller than the last.

When it was finally over, she lay still for a long while, stunned, listening to the dwindling sound of her harsh breaths. It was the first time anything like that had happened to her body.

Something told her Niall could not only make her feel this good, but much, much better.

Chapter Three

Positioned beside him at the high table, Aileen glanced at Niall from beneath her lashes. He ate slowly and cut his meat deliberately, a stern look on his angular face. If he sensed her watching him, he didn’t show it.

He was so handsome. She remembered the intensity of his eyes when he had looked at her yesterday from the courtyard, the set of his jaw as he’d brought himself to completion…

“Would you like another tart?” she asked, her tone polite but loud enough for him to hear over the general pandemonium of the men gathered to break their fasts in the great hall.

With an abrupt jerk of his head, he turned to her. For a long moment, he stared, his eyes filled with the same blue heat she’d seen in them yesterday. A warm flush spread across her chest. But then his look cleared and his eyes flickered away from her face as he reached for the plate she held out in offering. “Thank you, lady.”

Holding her body still and schooling her expression to one of passivity, she watched him take a bite from the custard tart he’d selected. How she wanted to reach out and place her hand on top of his. Just a touch would be enough to settle her trembling nerves. But she couldn’t.

She bowed her head and picked at the food on her plate. His proximity made her feel warm and jittery. Unsettled. The closer she was to him, the more difficult it was to ignore her base desires. She must find a way to occupy herself, to keep her distance from him—even though it might prove difficult when they traveled north.

A part of her had no desire to stay away from him. She remembered how big his hands were as they stroked over his shaft, how her own body had reacted to him. How it ached for him. She wanted his fingers stroking deep inside her, her lips brushing over the silk of his cock…

“Lady Aileen?”

Aileen dropped her knife with a clatter and looked up. Niall was gazing at her with a guarded expression.

“Aye?”

“The laird has asked that I bring you to Ellandonan as soon as possible. How long do you think it will take you and your servants to prepare for the journey?”

She blew out a breath through pursed lips, forcing herself to think. It wouldn’t be too difficult to complete the preparations for travel. Without Walter to complicate every step of the way, and with the help of her factor, Donegal, life at Dornoch had fallen into a smooth routine.

She didn’t look forward to her meeting with the laird, but there was no reason to delay the inevitable. Shrugging, she said, “We shall leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Surely you will require more time to prepare your belongings, your servants—”

She tried to sound stern. “I manage this castle efficiently, Niall. I require little in the way of baggage or servants. I will prepare my people for departure with time to spare.”