The Devil of Jedburgh (22 page)

He slipped his arms around her waist and cupped her bottom, moulding the softness in his palms as he pressed her closer. Their bodies were slick with sweat and want, and when he started moving her up and down along him, his shaft slid easily down her belly to prod between her legs. She opened and he entered her with one decisive thrust. Unlike his finger, his shaft filled her completely and she felt herself stretching to fit around him with hot friction.

They clung to each other as he moved inside her, their lips exploring and tasting, always coming back to meet with clashing tongues. Each thrust took her to that peak, but Arran knew exactly when to plunge and when to withdraw to bring her down before she toppled over to the other side. Each time she almost exploded, and each time the next peak was higher, the journey hotter, until Breghan knew for sure she would explode before that ultimate pleasure.

As if reading her mind and body, Arran flopped her onto her back and rolled on top, never breaking the controlled rhythm deep inside her. He propped his weight onto his elbows and looked into her eyes as he rode her beyond the highest peak and pushed her off the edge.

Flesh swollen and tender, muscles as weak as a lamb, Breghan regained her senses and opened her eyes. Arran’s eyes were closed, his face contorted in an expression of anguish as he moved still, pumping and thrusting. It took a moment for her to realise his shaft moved outside her, between the folds of her nether lips. Warm liquid spurt over her belly as he cried out with the sound of a dying beast. Then he grabbed a linen cloth to wipe her belly and wrapped her into his arms. His warmth, his strength, the rapid beat of his heart against her cheek, lulled her into sleepy contentment.

Arran stirred soon after. “Now we know where Sandie Armstrong gathers to give his orders, we’ll trap the fox in his hole and smoke the mongrels out.”

Breghan came fully awake from her drowsy state and propped herself up on an elbow to watch as he dressed. “Will you be gone for days again?”

“Armstrong uses a series of small caves at the confluence of the Stig and Teviot.” He paused by the bed to drop a kiss on top her head on his way out. “’Tis only a few hours’ ride, sweeting.”

“Arran,” she called, rolling onto her other side to follow him with her gaze.

He stopped in the doorway and turned. He looked into her eyes, but their special connection was missing. His mind had already shifted from her to his plans for this afternoon. Be careful, she’d wanted to say, but suddenly the words sounded tedious and redundant inside her head. Arran rode into danger almost every day of his life, the last thing he needed or wanted was a fretful woman waving him off with pleas to return safely.

She pressed a smile to her lips instead. “I intend to commission Thomas to make a third armchair to replace the one you shattered in the hall last night.”

His brow went up. “Since when do we have armchairs in the hall?”

“You didn’t even notice the beautiful creation you smashed into?”

“I was a little busy.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Thomas delivered the first of a pair, now he’ll have to start all over again.”

“Which Thomas are we speaking of?”

“Gardie’s Thomas.”

“Since when does—” Arran shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll instruct Bryan to pay the lad accordingly for the extra chair.”

She opened her mouth to explain the payment terms they’d agreed upon didn’t include coin, then shut it right back and smiled brightly. “Thank you.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Breghan pulled on her clothes, humming all the while as she straightened the bed covers and then went through to her own chamber. She took the flaxen bag containing Magellan’s herbs from the bottom of her wardrobe and stood there, twirling a finger around the pink ribbon.

Having Arran’s child would bind them irrevocably, but the notion of this life being permanent no longer terrified her. She didn’t want to leave, she didn’t ever want to give Arran up.

Then she remembered how Arran had ended their lovemaking.

A black tide swept away the euphoria lingering in her blood. She might have changed her heart, but Arran was as resolute as ever, even after all they had shared. He didn’t want to keep her.

He’d spilled his seed outside her womb to prevent the risk of impregnating her.

Chapter Fourteen

Smoking the fox from his hole turned out to be more complicated than Arran had predicted. They’d ridden out every afternoon for two weeks and each day returned empty-handed in the small hours of morning.

“Armstrong’s a canny bastard,” Arran drawled, stretching his legs out before the hearth in his bedchamber.

“Do you think he knows the location of his meeting place has been compromised?” Breghan asked. The nights were growing increasingly colder and she remained standing in front of the fire so she could spread her hands out over the flames.

“’Tis more likely he alternates holes up and down the dale. I’ve set a guard to keep watch while the rest of us go back to normal patrol.”

“Ah, so that’s why you were back in time for supper this evening.”

Arran reached over and pulled her into his lap. “I haven’t been neglecting you.”

Her arms slipped naturally around his waist. “If by that you mean claiming your rights on a daily basis, no, you haven’t.”

He slid his knuckles beneath her chin, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Is that all we were doing?” A grin came out to split a dimple in his jaw. The amusement in his eyes faded as he looked into her eyes, his head lowering inch by mesmerising inch. “I could swear we were doing much…much—” his lips brushed over her, firm, insistent, “—more.”

“Arran,” she protested, “I’m not sure…”

He immediately took advantage of her parted lips to plunge inside and taste his full. The familiar heat started low in her belly and Breghan felt her bones melting.

When his hand dipped below the hem of her gown and slid up her leg, she tried to resist one last time, bringing her hands around from his back to push against his chest. “We must talk.”

“So we shall,” he murmured, then went on to strip her breath with deep, plunging kisses while his fingers worked nimbly to strip her clothes. As soon as her breasts were bared, his mouth moved down, suckling and licking as he set her on her feet and tugged down her gown and undergarments.

The cool air touched her bared skin for only a moment before she was back on his lap and folded in his warmth. His hands were all over her, trailing sparks down her spine, cupping her buttocks, massaging circles in the small hollow just above.

He brought one hand between her thighs and murmured at her ear, “Open for me.”

Breghan’s entire body was alive and on fire, flames licking just beneath her skin and molten silver running through her blood. She leaned slightly back to look into his dark gaze and at the same time spread her thighs upon his lap. His hand slid over the satin softness of her inner thigh and all the way up to her centre.

Breghan cupped her palms around his jaw, felt the familiar strain there around the edges that she now knew to be ragged desire, her eyes never leaving his as he pushed a finger deep inside her core. She moaned and squirmed in his lap, and his shaft hardened and lengthened against one cheek of her buttocks.

She dropped her hand to his chest and pulled at the buttons of his linen shirt. His lips found hers again, his tongue mimicking the actions of his finger, stirring her blood into a fury of desire. She had his shirt completely open and, finally, she could press her breasts into the rock slab of his naked chest, her sensitive nipples scrubbing through the short curls there.

Arran didn’t release her lips and she had to swallow his grunt of pleasure. She brought one hand between their bodies. Her palm brushed over the bulge in his breeches and Arran leapt up, his hold on her loose but firm enough to guide her to her feet.

She smiled up at him as her fingers went to the buckle of his belt. “Allow me.”

The heat building inside her almost overflowed with the burst of excitement at her daring. She’d never been this brave before, but this time more than curiosity drove her. She was determined to push Arran beyond the limit of his endurance.

She rolled the waist of his breeches down his hips and released the rigid length of his shaft pressed flat to his stomach. Her fingers curled around him and Arran’s jaw strained until the tanned skin turned completely white.

His grip on her arms tightened. “Bree,” he whispered hoarsely, “what are you doing?”

She put on an innocent pout. “You don’t like it?”

“Ah, Jesu…”

His eyes closed and she rolled her thumb around the folded skin of his tip. His eyes shot open.

He’d gotten rid of his breeches and had her flat on the bed before she could blink.

They were both fully aroused and impatient.

As she went down, Breghan opened her legs and Arran entered her in one movement as he came down over her.

They made love furiously, passionately, Breghan clawing his back and Arran sucking her breasts hard enough to leave bruises. He devoured her with his eyes, his hands, his kisses. He moved inside her with a rhythm designed to ease her down just before she reached the edge, again and again, sending her higher and higher until, finally, taking her to that place of ultimate pleasure.

Half delirious with the fever of spent passion, Breghan flung her arms out wide as the back of her head hit the bed. But Arran wasn’t done yet. He withdrew and started moving outside of her, his shaft rubbing back and forth over the sweat-slick skin of her belly.

And every stroke was a direct command from Arran to her heart.

I don’t want you forever.

I will never keep you.

I don’t love you.

Every stroke was a crack to her heart, draining her euphoria. Every time they made love was the same, starting with dizzy expectation that melted her body and resolve, promises whispering beneath her skin that this time would be different. And each time their beautiful lovemaking ended with rejection.

Arran spent upon her belly, then grabbed a linen cloth to clean her. But when he tried to pull her into his arms, Breghan wriggled away and sat up on the side of the bed.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she told him softly.

The overheated slate of his eyes cooled. “Can’t do what?”

“This, what we—” Uncomfortably aware of her nakedness beneath his cool gaze, she jumped up and retrieved her gown from the floor, not bothering with her undergarments. “The way you make love to me,” she said, not looking at him as she stepped into the gown. “I cannot bear it.”

“Breghan,” Arran called, “come here.”

She pulled the ribbons of her bodice tight and marched back to the bed. He was sitting with his back against the wall, one knee drawn up to rest his elbow on, apparently far more at ease with his nudity than she was.

She kept her gaze high and on his face. His eyes were too pale, too icy. She’d prefer the black thunder of fury, but she wouldn’t back down either.

“Are you saying,” he said, his voice low and even, “that you will no longer share my bed?”

She held her shoulders stiff and raised a brow at him.

“If you were frightened, if you were still a maiden in need of time to adjust, I might be more understanding,” he said, his arms coming out slowly toward her. “If you didn’t scream out in ecstasy every time I take you, if you didn’t become slick with desire by my kisses alone, I might be more understanding.”

“Arran, I’ve never said—” She choked on her words as he grabbed her hand and yanked her onto the bed beside him. “Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” he mocked with both his tone and his grin. “Don’t give you more of what you were begging for a few moments ago?”

“I never beg.”

“You say you cannot bear my lovemaking.” His grin disappeared. “That is a bold-faced lie.”

She struggled within his grasp, but this time Arran didn’t let her go. “You won’t deny me my rights. You are duty-bound to share my bed when, where and how I please.”

“Not when you treat me like a half woman.”

“What in hell does that mean?” A scowl darkened his brow as he rose onto his knees, towering over her.

That was fine. She was just as furious. “When you withdraw before you’re done, you deny me the full experience of making love.”

“I willna get you with child.”

She tilted her head back to meet his scowling gaze.

Her only defence against his hurtful words was a laugh of pure disdain. “Thank heavens, that would be my worst nightmare.”

His hands came down on her shoulders. “Then we are in agreement.”

“Magellan gave me herbs that will cleanse my womb of your seed after we’ve made love.”

“Herbs?”

She nodded. “You can spend inside me without getting me with child.”

Arran shook his head. “I won’t risk it.”

“I have the means to prevent your babe from growing within me, Arran.” She dropped her gaze until she was staring at his chest. He didn’t love her. He wouldn’t keep her. Perhaps she could never change that, but she could put an end to the cruel reminder that marred their lovemaking each and every time. “You won’t bed me again before you’re prepared to do so properly.”

“Properly?” His fingers gripped the narrow bones of her shoulder. “Trust me,
darling
, whatever you think you’re missing out on, I’m doing everything right. I’ve had no complaints before.”

Her eyes shot up again. “Then I suggest you take your lust to one of those non-complaining women next time.”

He pressed her flat on her back and brought one knee over her so she was hedged in. One hand stayed on her shoulder, easily locking her down on the bed. He brought his other hand beneath her gown and up her leg. “Should I remind you how much pleasure my lust gives you?”

“It won’t work this time,” she said through gritted teeth, wriggling and twisting, clamping her legs together. “I will not allow it.”

He moved his knee between her thighs to keep her open. “
This time
I’m not giving you the choice.”

His gaze bore into her and, although his fingers had reached the apex of her thighs, she saw anger instead of desire in his icy green eyes.