Bedding the Enemy

Chapter Ten

“Helena?”
Raelin McKorey gestured with her hand.
The courtyard was a mass of noblemen and servants. Intermixed with them were the royal guards, along with retainers. The king was happily showing off his downed buck while stableboys hurried to take up the reins of the noblemen who dismounted without any care as to what happened to their mounts.
Keir wasn’t that sort of man. He took care of his own stallion and Helena’s mare. His men were shouldering their way through the crowd to get the animals into the dry stable. Rain was still falling and the dark sky promised that it would not be a quickly passing storm.
“Helena?”
Raelin stood under an archway. She frowned at the sky and fingered her golden silk gown. It would spot if she ventured into the sprinkling rain. But Helena was happy to see her friend. She ran to join her, grasping her hands but being careful not to brush her skirts up against Raelin’s maid of honor dress. It was a sure bet the gown was expensive and her family would not enjoy replacing it due to foolishness.
“I’ve been thinking so much about you.”
Her friend searched her eyes but frowned when she looked at the purple bruise still marring her face.
“It’s much better now.”
Raelin narrowed her eyes and tugged her into the hallway to place some distance between them and the other nobles.
“Did your brother do that to yer face?”
Helena squeezed her friend’s hand. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Because ye are wed?” Raelin bit her lower lip. “I suppose ye are right about that. I do believe that Keir McQuade will not allow that brother of yers to lay his hand on ye now.”
Helena heard the question her friend didn’t voice. She offered her a genuine smile. The Scots girl relaxed.
“Och, I’m so happy for ye. I told him about ye nae coming to court. I hoped he’d be the man ye thought he was.”
They had wandered far from the courtyard while talking. A pounding of boot heels on the stone tile drew both their attention. Helena looked up to see her new husband bearing down on them.
Keir was furious.
It was such an unexpected thing, Helena stared at him.
“Dinnae ever leave my men, madam.”
His tone infuriated her. “Excuse me, Raelin. I do believe my husband and I need to have a conversation.”
The Scots girl wasn’t shocked; in fact she was slightly amused. “Aye, I can see he needs a thing or two pointed out to him.”
Keir crossed his arms over his chest. Raelin curtsied low and very slowly in a mockery of his stern pose.
“Mistress McKorey, I believe I’ve already interceded on your behalf and that should have taught ye to remain where it is safe. Nae encourage others to make the same mistakes.”
“’Tis the light of day now.” Raelin didn’t seem impressed with Keir McQuade. She stood up boldly to the man. But she shifted her attention to Helena.
“Come to the queen’s chambers later. Her Majesty would like to see you as well.”
She swept past Keir and his retainers with her chin high. Helena envied the girl her confidence in the face of such stern disapproval.
“Ye cannae venture off on yer own, Helena. I willnae have it.”
Keir wasn’t bending. He glared at her, disapproval clear on his face.
“I warned ye that ye would nae be allowed away from my men.”
She took a deep breath, searching for the face of her lover in the man standing in front of her now. “You said that the night before our wedding.”
“I dinnae see what has changed, madam.”
Hurt ran its claw across her heart. Where was the man she had just lain with? Try as she might, she could not see him. The pain stung.
“You are quite correct. Nothing has changed, husband.”
She lowered herself. His eyes snapped with temper. “Helena—”
“I must pay my respects to the queen.”
“Ye’ll stay with me.”
Helena straightened herself and stared at him. “Just as I had to obey the king and wed you, you shall obey the wishes of the queen to see me. It is my duty now that I have been told she wishes to see me.”
Keir frowned. “I shall accompany ye.”
Hard and unwavering, his eyes looked like obsidian.
She turned and began walking. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, tension knotting between her shoulder blades. She felt his distrust keenly.
It dropped her back into the swirling mists of loneliness that had assaulted her that morning. It slashed at the fragile happiness she’d felt around her since their afternoon tryst. She should have expected it. Their marriage might be ended if there was no child. Divorce was not uncommon. It was hushed up and muttered against by the church but it happened far more than anyone admitted. When inheritances and titles hung in the balance, even matrimony wasn’t unbreakable. Keir would be wise to breed her often in order to plant a child in her womb. One living child would make it much harder for a divorce to happen.
She wanted to resist thinking that way. His men might simply be doing their duty in a world that was often filled with dangers for the unprotected. But emotions were fickle things that didn’t listen to logic.
It was little wonder that affection of the heart was considered insanity. Her new emotions were playing havoc with her thinking and that was no mistake.


“You don’t have to leave, Helena.”
“There is no point in avoiding what is done.” Helena hugged her friend, embracing her tightly. “He is not unkind to me.”
Raelin nodded. “He has honor. And that is something that I nae ever thought I’d say of any McQuade, since his father tried to kill me only a year past. But I suppose neither of us should hope marriage to be anything except what it is.”
“I will miss you.”
Helena smiled at her friend in spite of the fact that her heart was filling with grief. It was likely that they would not see each other again for many years, if ever. She was wed and expected to return to her husband’s home to see to the duty of producing heirs. Raelin would face the same fate herself soon. Letters would become their only means of continuing their friendship.
Keir and his retainers were waiting for her outside the queen’s chambers. As strong and powerful as she had always thought him to be, today that strength represented the ability to keep her near him. Part of her rejoiced, but doubt teased her as well. She shook it off, refusing to behave like a child. He was certainly a better husband than Ronchford. It was best to show him how good a wife she might be.
“I am yours to command.”


“No man ever truly understands the way a woman’s mind works.” Farrell’s attempt to help gained him a hard look from his laird. The man tilted his head and returned his attention to the horse he was rubbing down. “Well, if ye figure it out, be a good lad and share the secret with me.” Farrell added a shake of his head to indicate his lack of understanding when it came to women.
If he figured it out? Now there was a question if ever one was asked.
For the life of him, Keir couldn’t understand why his bride had taken such exception to his insistence that she remain with his men. He was trying to protect her. Wasn’t that his duty as a husband?
But there was no missing the fact that she was angry with him. It wasn’t the temper that he had trouble dealing with; it was the resolution in her eyes that bothered him—that silent resolve to endure.
He did not want her to be unhappy.
He moved his hands along his stallion’s flank, rubbing the animal longer than normal. Keir stopped when he realized he was avoiding his wife. No matter what the trouble was between them, he was not going to tolerate distance between them.
Especially a distance caused by his own doing. He gave the horse a final pat and left the stable. Candlelight glowed from inside the house. It made for a cheerful scene, one that he slowed down long enough to enjoy before entering it. Anticipation was suddenly an enjoyable thing.
His wife was inside—the wife that he’d left McQuade land searching for. His clan name was restored to favor as well. He’d managed to do all the important things a laird was expected to do. All that remained was to go home and keep his lands running in good order. The town house itself was a symbol of his success. He scanned it from rooftop to front door. Satisfaction filled him.
A young face peeked through the front window. Two moments later the door opened wide for him. Keir felt one eyebrow rise. He was not accustomed to the staff waiting around on his pleasure and he was not planning on becoming so. The inhabitants of Red Stone had never scurried to please him and he would keep it that way. But as he walked through the open door, he was met by members of the house staff. They were lined up shoulder to shoulder to greet him, a few of them attempting to cover rapid breathing that betrayed the fact that they’d run to make sure they did not miss the master’s entrance. They kept their eyes lowered and their chins tucked down in deference. The young boy had clearly been posted at the window to cry the alarm when he approached.
What surprised him was Helena. She stood at the head of the line, lowering herself neatly in a polished display of meekness. His temper ignited. He knew what she was doing. He knew it because he’d witnessed his sister putting on such displays when his father was alive. There was no truth in it. It was only a carefully rehearsed action that she performed to maintain peace by stroking his ego.
But he was not his father and did not care for false demonstrations of respect that were insincere. He moved quickly. His new bride had made an error by looking at the floor. He was already in front of her before she raised her gaze.
Helena gasped. The sound flew past her startled lips when she realized that her husband was only a foot away from her. Somehow she had forgotten how much larger he was than her. She had to tip her head back to meet his eyes. What she found there startled her, but not in a fearful manner. He was displeased, there was no missing that. But what drew her attention was the flare of determination that looked very similar to what she had witnessed during the thunderstorm.
Keir didn’t give her time to ponder her thoughts. He swept her off her feet in a fluid motion that wrung another gasp from her lips. She grabbed at his doublet out of reflex but there was no hint of weakness in his embrace. He cradled her easily, striding through the dining room and toward the stairs without a single pause.
The cook stood near the table. Her apron was newly pressed and her linen cap starched so that the box-pleated edge stood straight. There were candles in the silver holders and in the wall brackets. All were lit and filling the room with a yellow glow. Fine dishes were laid on the table and the long cupboard set against the wall already held several platters awaiting the master’s dining pleasure.
Her husband only swept the table with a quick glance before carrying her through the doorframe and into the back hallway. She heard the scamper of steps on the stone floor behind them and the unmistakable snap of the cook’s fingers as she commanded the staff.
Her face colored because it was perfectly clear what her husband was in a hurry to do. For all that everyone expected newlyweds to spend time sharing intimacies, she did not appreciate her husband carrying her through the house like a captive.
But you enjoyed it earlier today…
Her thoughts annoyed her. She twisted in his embrace, pushing on the wide chest.
“Have done, husband. I can walk very well.” She might have been mute for all the good her actions gained her. His embrace never changed. It remained solid and steady while he climbed the stairs.
“Aye, ye can, but I’m no’ in the mood for rehearsed niceties.”
He pushed the door to their chamber open with a shove from his shoulder. The hallway had been dim, with only the flicker of the lamps burning on the first floor to cut through the darkness. The chamber was very different. The staff were doing their best to make sure their new master didn’t find any reason to begin replacing them. Candles were set into every holder on the tables and costly glass lanterns hung from hooks set into the walls. The colored glass filled the chamber with a surreal, reddish light.
“So now you are displeased with me because I show you good manners?” She hit his shoulder, completely exhausted with attempting to understand him. She struggled again, this time twisting her body and bucking without any care for how ungentle she appeared.
He released her but growled. It was a low sound filled with frustration. Helena tossed her head, refusing to lower her chin meekly. She didn’t feel meek, not in the least.
“I do not understand you, husband.”
But she moved away from his imposing body—not because he was stronger but because she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about how good he felt against her. Maybe it was the fact that they were alone in the chamber, but her thoughts were alight with flashes of memory from that afternoon. Her skin grew warm and she had to shake her head to dispel the excitement that was beginning to swirl through her mind.
Keir stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked as imposing as he had outside the queen’s chambers, but here she found it attractive, too. In the back of her mind all she could think of was the large bed waiting for them with turned-down covers.
He’d take her there—she had no doubt about it.
“I am nae yer brother.”
Her mouth fell open in surprise. “Good God! I should hope not, considering how we passed the after—”
One dark eyebrow arched in a mocking display. “The afternoon? Aye. I suppose that would nae be something a brother and sister should be about.”
It was sickening. Disgust travel through her. “Then what is your discontent with me? I made no mention of Edmund.”
He raised a single finger. “But you did, my sweet bride. Ye stood there greeting me as he would have expected. All the staff lined up.”
And he didn’t care for it. Helena stared at the discontent in his eyes, confused by his mood. “Your men offer you respect.”
“’Tis different. I earned that from them by proving myself with a sword just as I expect of every one of them.”
“I can see that plainly enough….” She was speaking without thinking again. Helena clamped her lips closed, frowning at herself. Keir was the only man who swept her common sense aside simply by being near her. It was as irritating as it was exciting. But his lips twitched up at her words, a half grin giving her a hint of his teeth before he shook his head and returned to glaring at her.
Helena felt her temper burn hotter. “Pray sir, do not leave me lingering in doubt and confusion any longer. For I have no idea what has annoyed you so badly that you felt the need to carry me up here instead of noticing how much your staff are trying to please you in the hope that you will not turn them out.”
He winced, his arms unfolding. A flush appeared on his throat. “Och, well I dinnae mean to ignore their efforts. I am a wee bit new to being a lord.”
Helena crossed her arms in response. Her husband looked stunned, his gaze moving over her for long seconds before his mouth rose into that roguish grin once again.
“Ye are too pretty when ye’re mad for me to remember what we were fighting about.”
A frustrated sound of fury escaped her lips. Her hands flew up as every lesson she’d ever mastered sailed out of her mind. “You hauled me up here like a sailor taking his dingy sack home, and now you claim you cannot recall what I did to annoy you?”
He surged. “Och, now I recall just fine, but I’m finding it much more enjoyable to dwell on yer sweet face than on what bothered me.”
There was truly no understanding the way a man’s mind worked. Helena waved her hand. “As well as that might be, I can only wonder what shall happen once the newness has worn away from our union.”
“You think I’ll turn mean toward ye? Why would ye think such a thing?”
His pride was wounded by the very idea. Helena heard it but it was that very pride that she expected to bring her grief someday.
“I did not say mean.”
“But ye implied that I would not longer find ye sweet enough to blind me.” He moved toward her, seeking the answer to his question.
Helena moved away from him, needing the space to keep her thoughts clear. She was treading on dangerous ground—that place where a man’s pride might easily take offense over some truth spoken without thinking about the consequences.
“I simply am not vain enough to believe that I can expect to monopolize your attention forever.”
Her words were still bold, in spite of how carefully she phrased the idea. But pain still drew its claw across her heart. A man such as Keir had a mistress, and it was likely that she was a beautiful woman. It was also likely that he would have more throughout the years and that she would be expected to be gracious in the face of his needs. Such was the lot of a wife.
He frowned again but this time he seemed partially annoyed with himself.
“If ye want to know something of me, Helena, ask yer question straight. I am nae a man that enjoys false displays of respect such as ye just offered me below. It’s yer courage that I find irresistible, nae just the sight of yer face.”
It was tempting. Helena chewed on her lower lip for a moment, but Keir didn’t offer her anything else except for a challenge shimmering in his dark eyes. She felt her own pride rising in the face of that look. He was not a man who was easily impressed. Knowing that she had earned such from him filled her with confidence.
“Very well. I expect to be sleeping alone once we arrive at your home because you have a mistress there waiting on your return.”
“Red Stone will be yer home, too, lass. Dinnae doubt it.” Heat coated his voice and it tempted her to believe in that idea. A home. It was the truth that she wasn’t sure what it felt like to be home anymore. The estate her parents lived on was run on tradition and schedule.
“But you didn’t deny that you have a mistress waiting for you.” She spoke quietly but kept her chin level. It would be better if he understood that she wasn’t afraid of him.
He reached up to untie his sword. “I don’t.” The huge weapon was set on the table before he turned back to look at her. “But that is only because Gwen knew it was in the best interest of the McQuades for me to find a noblewoman for a wife.”
His words hurt. Her gaze lowered to the floor to hide the pain slashing through her. Keir cupped her chin, following her backward when she retreated from his touch. She hadn’t heard his feet on the floor—not even a tiny hint that he was closing the distance.
“She left me because she knew that I didna love her. At the time I argued with her. Even insisted that she would make a fine wife. But she would nae wed a man who didna love her.”
His hand left her chin. He stroked her cheek and she turned to allow the touch. A shudder wracked her body. She felt his touch so much more keenly than anyone else’s. Each fingertip brought her joy as they slid over the surface of her face.
“I didna understand at the time, but I do now.”
He turned her face back so that their eyes met. Emotion flickered in his dark gaze. She didn’t fully understand it, but neither did he.
“You cannot claim to love me.”
“I know that no woman has ever upset me so much by giving me deference that I knew was false. Or that looking up to see ye gone put a bolt of fear through me that I swear I would have fallen to my knees and sobbed like a lad to escape.”
He drew a stiff breath, his hand slipping away from her. She shivered at the loss, her entire body leaning toward his, seeking out the warmth she witnessed in his gaze.
“I didna know what love was and thought I could live very well without it. I swear that I would have married Gwen and never hesitated. But the first time I kissed ye, I understood the difference. There is no mistress waiting on me. No matter how much we quarrel we shall share a bed. I promise ye that.”
Shock held her in its grasp. Her mind raced in circles. She expected a mistress but not one to whom she would be thankful. His promise was arrogant, but so sweet that tears burned her eyes. The distance between them was suddenly too great to endure. She needed to be in contact with him, craved to feel his skin against her own again. It seemed an eternity since the last time they touched. She ached with the need.
Helena reached for him. He drew a sharp breath when her hands made connection with his chest. But she was mesmerized by the look in his eyes. Heat filled the dark centers. She smoothed her hands over his chest, delighting in the hard ridges of muscles hidden beneath his clothing. She moved closer and inhaled the scent of his skin. It was warm and very male. She didn’t pause to ponder why she thought he smelled male. For the moment there was only the way she felt and the fact that touching him filled her with happiness.
But she wanted to touch his skin. She cupped her hand behind his neck and pulled him toward her. He shivered when her lips made contact for the first time. She felt the delicate tremor running along his nape. It was a light kiss—only a soft pressing of her mouth against his throat—but the connection sent a bolt of awareness through her that did not stop until it reached every single one of her toes.
“Sweet lass.” He cupped her face, taking command of her. “Ye have no idea how much I enjoy yer touch.”
His voice was raspy with hunger. He held her head in place and angled his own before pressing a hard kiss on her lips. Passion licked down her body, making her long to be rid of her dress and stays. She wanted to press against him, their skin bare to increase the sensation, the intimacy.
She reached for the buttons on his doublet, working them loose. He lifted his head and watched her for a moment. The hands cradling her face slipped down to her shoulders. He found the tiny button that kept her partlet closed and opened it.
A little sigh of relief crossed her lips.
“I couldna agree with ye more.”
He turned her around, his hands seeking out the laces that held her dress closed. He was far more confident at the task than she was at removing his clothing. In a few tugs and pulls the bodice sagged. He pushed it right off her shoulders and down to her waist. The small hip roll that was tied around her hips didn’t stop him, either. He reached down and pulled the tie loose. A moment later her dress puddled around her ankles. He lifted her up and away from her clothing. The night air brushed up her thighs beneath her chemise but was stopped by her stays.
“I want to undress you, too.”
Her feet touched the ground closer to the fire. Its scarlet and orange light bathed them both. A carpet lay over the cold wooden floor. Her shoes sunk into it while her toes longed to be free to experience it. Her husband moved to face her. His face was alight with excitement. She reached for him and witnessed the way his eyes lit with anticipation. It was intoxicating. She was equally excited by the impact her touch had on him as she was by any stroke of his hand across her flesh.
She flattened her palms on his chest beneath the open doublet. It still hung on his wide shoulders. A shiver raced down her back as she felt his heartbeat. It was such a simple thing, one that her own body did, but that seemed to be so much more unique when she felt it through her fingertips. Slipping her hands up, she lifted the open edges of the garment over his shoulders. But trying to control it so far above herself proved awkward. He chuckled and shrugged to get the doublet to fall all the way down his arms.
“I swear the slowness of this undressing is about to kill me, but I’d nae miss it for anything.”
She reached for his belt buckle, her cheeks brightening. It would have been far more demure to lift her hands toward his collar, but he enjoyed her boldness and she found that too tempting a prospect to miss. His hands slipped into her hair, hunting for her hairpins. He pulled them loose, one at a time, until her braid fell down her back. His belt was stiff but she pulled it back and the weight of his kilt took the carefully pleated garment down to the carpet.
“Undress for me, Helena.” Keir’s voice was rough with hunger. “I swear, the image of ye brushing yer hair last night is burned into my soul. I want to look at ye, the way ye were made.”
The firelight turned his shirt translucent. She gained a glimpse of the way his torso tapered down to a lean waist, and then the unmistakable thrust of his erection. But he took one step away from her and removed his boots in quick, efficient motions. His attention returned to her. The fire crackled and gooseflesh raced along her arms. She was suddenly more aware of her own heartbeat, could hear it and feel it pulsing along her limbs.
The look on his face made her feel beautiful. She realized that nothing had the power to make someone attractive until someone else believed that they were. It wasn’t about the color of her hair; it was about this moment and their need for one another.
“All right. But you shall promise to stay until I grant you permission to touch me, husband.”
He frowned, but excitement flickered in his eyes. She offered him a look through her eyelashes, enjoying the moment of flirtation. It heightened the need that burned along her skin, deepening the pleasure.
“’Tis a good thing I was no’ playing cards with ye. I would have lost me shirt.”
She slowly smiled, her cheeks burning hotter. He tilted his head and offered her a mocking look.
“I do believe I like that idea, husband.”
He chuckled. “I thought noblewomen needed their maids.”
There was a teasing note in his tone. It challenged her, making her bold. Reaching up, she tugged on the lace, keeping her stays tight. The moment the knot was free, the weight of her breasts pulled the lace so that the front sagged open. A little shiver traveled along her skin. It was a relief to be loosened from the constricting garment. Keir’s attention was focused on her fingers. She toyed with the lace, gently pulling it through the first few holes. He swallowed roughly, filling her with confidence. She had never really taken any time to think about whether or not her body was attractive. All of the pads and supports demanded by fashion gave her a distortion of what in fact a man enjoyed in a woman’s form.
Keir enjoyed hers. It shimmered in his gaze and his expression was tight. Her curiosity was piqued. She pulled the lace from the next few holes. It was curious to believe that he might enjoy her out of her stays more than he did while she wore the essentials of fashion.
Yet his face indicated that he was very pleased by the enlarging area opening down the front of her stays. She eased the lace through the last few holes and realized that she had been holding her breath. Her body shuddered when she exhaled, sensation tingling along her skin. For the moment she felt freer than she ever had. Keir moved toward her while she was lost in contemplation of his face. His hands cupped her shoulders and gently rubbed them. A little hum of contentment rose from her throat. Need was beginning to pound through her but it was a steady tempo and one that she was at ease enjoying tonight. Something had changed between them. She no longer feared allowing him to see her true emotions.
Keir caught the straps of her corset and sent them down her arms, the open garment sliding easily off her. The heat from the fire traveled up her legs and the fabric of her chemise billowed gently. She was now more aware of her breasts. They felt swollen and needy hanging free.
“Ye win, lass. I couldna wait any longer.”
He took a single step away from her and pulled his shirt off his body. She bit into her lower lip as every inch of hard muscle was illuminated by the flickering fire. He looked surreal, like a legend she might envision yet never touch. Her hand stretched out in spite of that thought, seeking to touch the image of perfection.
She shivered when her fingertips made contact. The tremor raced through her, touching off a need that roared to life. Her nipples drew into hard peaks that poked against the sheer fabric of her chemise. The delicate skin covering her breasts begged to be stroked.
“No a bit longer,” he said as he gently fingered the fabric of her last garment. She couldn’t have agreed more.
Lifting her hands up above her head, she sighed when she felt him drawing the chemise up and over her. Her hands came down on his chest, trailing over the hard muscles. She didn’t stop but stroked lower until she found his belly.
His hands cupped her hips. Pleasure swirled in her belly, making her breathing uneven. There was something incredibly intimate about his hands gripping her hips. It drew to mind the way he held her when he was deep inside her. It was a shockingly carnal thought, but one that she enjoyed. Her *oris throbbed softly between the folds of her sex.
His grip tightened as though he was forcing himself to wait for her, wait to see how far she might trail her fingers, how low she might venture. Maybe it was the need filling her or the approval she witnessed in his eyes, but she sent her hand down until she found the base of his cock.
He muttered something in Gaelic that didn’t need translation. The rough tone of his voice was enough to spur her forward. She closed her hand around his girth. His eyes narrowed with pleasure and the grip on her hips tightened. Confidence filled her, along with an insane delight at being able to affect him so strongly. She had been on the receiving end so many times that she was eager to affect him as strongly as he often did her.
Which brought to mind several dark whispers that she had heard at court….
Seduction was an art perfected by many ladies of the court. They shared their knowledge and often shared the details of their liaisons. The fact that she was a maiden didn’t deter them. They delighted in whispering torrid details of what went on behind closed doors.
Pulling her hand up his length, she didn’t stop until she gripped the head. A thick ridge of flesh circled it but she only remained there for a moment before pulling her closed hand down to the base.
“Helena…”
He growled her name and she smiled. The thick carpet beneath her shoes offered a perfect place to try what she had heard whispered. Kneeling in front of him, she gained her first true look at his cock. Thick and long, it was crowned with a ruby head that boasted a slit down half its face. Maintaining her grip, she leaned forward and licked that slit.
“Holy Christ!”
Her husband pulled her back by her hair, his face betraying his shock.
“Where in the hell did ye learn to do something like that?”
His brogue was so thick she had trouble understanding him. But there was no mistaking the fact that she was affecting him.
“Court gossip.” She worked her hand up to the tip and slid one fingertip through that slit. A muscle jerked along the side of his jaw. “I believe I may have just discovered the first good use of it. What do you think?”
His eyes glowed, anticipation burning in their dark centers. The grip that held her hair relaxed and she lowered her attention to his length again. She licked him again, this time running her tongue all the way around the crown. His hips jerked toward her and she opened her mouth to allow the first inch to enter.
“I swear to God I cannae believe ye’re doing this.”
There was no way she was going to stop, either. Moving her head in slow motion, she took his length in and out of her mouth, allowing more of his cock to penetrate each time she pressed toward him. He captured the back of her head and his fingers gripped the soft strands, sending little prickles of pain across her scalp. The portion that wouldn’t fit into her mouth she stroked with her hand, keeping the same motion as her mouth. He shuddered and groaned, his large body drawn tight as a bowstring.
“Enough, lass! I’ll be unmanned in another few moments.”
He pulled her away from his cock, frustrating her. “And what is wrong with that?”
He sank to his knees in front of her, maintaining his grip on her hair. One hard arm encircled her waist, shifting the power balance between them. She was now his captive; his superior strength bound her against him. But she was a willing one. Her body eagerly soaked up the feeling of his skin pressed against hers. Pleasure washed over her, every warm ridge of muscle delighting her.
“A good lover doesna spill himself until he has satisfied his partner.”
“But many a husband does not concern himself with his wife’s pleasure.”
He bent her back until she lay on the carpet. But he didn’t lie on top of her. He sat back on his haunches, making her long for his body against hers again.
“I enjoy pleasuring ye.”
Promise flickered in his eyes. He reached for one of her feet and stripped her shoe and stocking off. His fingers toyed with her bare calf, stroking the skin. The fire had burned down but the coals turned her skin scarlet. She was suddenly shy and pressed her thighs together.
“Och now. That willnae do at all.”
He lifted her other foot and removed her last garment. He gently massaged her foot for a long moment before rubbing his fingers down over her ankle, working the muscles with soothing motions. A little hum of pleasure crossed her lips.
“Better, but I’m wanting that confidence back that ye had when ye so boldly sucked my cock.”
Her cheeks burned but she couldn’t stop the smile that parted her lips. His hands stroked past her knee, gently parting her thighs. He leaned down until she could feel the soft hair that coated his chest against her breasts. His breath teased her lips before he pressed a warm kiss onto her mouth.
“But I’m also wanting to repay the favor.”
“What?”
He chuckled while keeping her back on the floor with his larger body. He gently cupped both of her breasts. Need spiked through her but there was no hurry displayed in his expression. He tilted his head and pressed a kiss against her neck while his thumbs toyed with her nipples. She arched beneath him, craving more contact. He kissed his way down her body until he found one soft mound. The skin drew tight with anticipation, her nipple aching for the touch of his lips. She had never wanted something so badly.
Keir didn’t disappoint her. He licked his way to the top of her breast and closed his lips around the hard point. She cried out, unable to keep the pleasure behind her lips. She reached for him, gripping his shoulders and arching so that her breast was raised up for his mouth to feast upon. He cupped it, his grip holding the soft mound in place. She’d never have guessed that a mouth might feel so hot, but his lips burned across the tender tip of her nipple, the point of his tongue lavishing it with attention.
It all flowed down to her belly. Her *oris throbbed and she forgot why she wanted to keep her thighs together. The folds of her sex felt swollen and she needed to open her legs to relieve that pressure. He smoothed a hand over her hip and down across her belly the moment she opened for him.
“Ah, exactly what I was hoping for. An invitation.”
His fingers grazed over her mons. She jerked, too aware of every touch to remain still. He pressed her down with one large hand centered on the top of her belly. But it was a soft touch, his hand stroking and massaging, tempting her to relax and allow him to touch more of her. Her *oris begged for attention.
“Better, lass. Much better.”
His fingers ventured lower, stroking across her open sex. It was a mere whisper of a touch but she sent her hands into the carpet as her body contorted with sensation. It flowed through her like a living thing, all of the need combining into a passion that was consuming her.
Keir placed a soft kiss on the smooth skin of her belly before moving back to hover over her spread sex.
“Keir?”
He looked up her body, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “What, lass? Did the gossips never discuss how a man might repay the favor of having his cock sucked?”
“No….”
He rubbed her belly with a firm hand, then stilled and pressed her against the floor.
“Well now, I’ll be happy to introduce ye to what delight ye just gave me.”
Her breath froze in her lungs, and even when they burned she didn’t exhale. She was too shocked by the sight between her thighs. His shoulders kept her spread wide but he used a single hand to spread her further, exposing the little button of her *oris.
“Keir…”
He didn’t respond to her. Instead he leaned down and gently lapped her exposed slit. She would have rolled away if he wasn’t holding her down. That single touch sent desire up her passage so quickly her vision blurred. Her neck muscles lost the strength to keep her head up and she closed her eyes when she collapsed against the floor.
There was nothing except the hot tip of his tongue. He licked her slowly, beginning at the opening to her passage and up her spread slit to her *oris. He toyed with it gently until her hips arched toward him.
He seemed to understand her need. His lips closed around the little nub. Pleasure raked through her, drawing tighter. He began sucking and she cried out, her head thrashing from side to side. She was suddenly afloat on a rippling surface of sensation and need. Delight shot through her a hundred times a minute but it was always chased by need so acute she felt she couldn’t bear it. Seconds became eternities in which she bounced between need and pleasure. It drew tighter and tighter, her body straining toward his mouth, seeking true satisfaction. He didn’t grant it to her quickly. His mouth released her *oris so that he could lick his way down to her passage. The tip of his tongue circled the delicate skin several times until she sobbed with need. She felt so empty, tears stung her eyes.
“Aye, lass, I’ve no more discipline for waiting either.”
His brogue had thickened again but she didn’t care. He closed his lips around her *oris and this time he applied more pressure. She felt the promise of release coming closer and closer. Her heart pounded harder as the pleasure built to a crescendo and burst. It flooded her with blinding pleasure that tore away every pretense of who she was expected to be. There was only the way she felt and the man holding her throughout the torrent.
She lost track of time but gasped for breath when it began to subside. A moment later her husband rose above her. Hunger drew his features tight and the scarlet glow of the coals bathed him.
But he didn’t cover her. One hand grasped her hip and rolled her over onto her belly. He slid one arm beneath her body and pulled her back onto her knees. She felt him behind her, his hands gripping each of her hips just as she had enjoyed him doing earlier.
This time it was very carnal and that pleased her greatly. His cock pressed against her, easily sliding into her slick passage. Deeper satisfaction filled her along with his flesh. Ripples of delight were still moving through her and the hard pounding seemed to add to it. He wasn’t gentle and she realized that she didn’t want him to be. She wanted to feel his strength, enjoy the hard slap of his body behind her. His cock was harder than she recalled and he drove it deeply into her, all the time holding her hips in place, even pulling her back to meet each thrust. Lust and need sent soft cries past her lips.
“Aye, lass, let me hear ye whimper. ’Tis a sweet sound.”
Her entire body was feeling so much more than it ever had. Keir grasped her hips and rode her with fast, hard thrusts. Her breasts swung back and forth with the motion, her hands gripping the carpet, but she began moving back toward each thrust. Her back arched, lifting her bottom into prominent display. A soft growl of approval came from her husband.
The fingers on her hips suddenly tightened and she heard a harsh intake of breath. A second later his seed flooded her. Hot and searing, he thrust a few final times before catching his weight on flattened hands that pressed down on either side of her. Her legs quivered but so did his body against her back. They both sank down onto the carpet, his arms pulling her against his body. He rolled onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Sweet Christ. Ye may be the death of me, lass.” He pulled her close, pushing her head down onto his shoulder. “But I’ll face me demise a happy man.”
“You shouldn’t tempt fate by saying things such as that.”
He found the end of her braid and began working her hair loose with his fingers.
“Like what? Am I no’ permitted to tell ye how much I enjoy lying with ye? Does the fact that ye’re noble born mean we must be unhappy? Sharing a bed the minimum amount of times in order to produce children that will then grow up with parents who have no affection for each other? I dinnae agree with that. Ye make me very happy, Helena.”
Her throat tightened. She didn’t understand the strange reaction. “You simply should not tempt fate.”
She tried to roll away but he held her still. “I’m chilled.”
“Nay, ye are not. Ye’re trying to escape so that ye can think yerself back into that model of proper behavior that yer parents sent ye off to court believing in.”
He rolled over on top of her, pinning her down with his greater weight. “I’ll nae have that, Helena. I have tender feelings for you, and I am stunned to discover such, too. The difference is I thought I could live without affection in my marriage and I’m happy to be proven wrong. ’Tis truly a delight to find myself proven wrong.”
“Love is insanity.”
He kissed her, hard and long. He didn’t stop until she kissed him in return, the need inside her too great to ignore when he touched her.
“Than I am a happy victim of the disease.”
He rolled over her but left her closest to the fire. The coals bathed her bare skin in heat and Keir kept her tight against his body to warm the rest of her. He was correct; she was not cold. He had her hair loose and began playing with it.
“But—”
“Hush now. Tomorrow will be time enough for us to return to what the world outside those doors tells us is right and wrong. For the moment, let us enjoy just being a man and his woman, with nothing to worry us save when passion will demand more from us.”
“You mean lovers.”
He cupped her chin and raised her face so that their eyes met. Approval coated his features and she found it too tempting to resist.
“Aye, lass. Now ye and I have something to agree upon. Lovers is a fine word.”
“It is nice.”
Very nice. Her eyelids fluttered, suddenly feeling heavy. Her heart slowed down and the night carried the heat from her skin, but not the scent of her lover. She cuddled up closer, seeking his heat, her legs sliding along his. She savored the difference between them, his harder form and the way her body melted against it so that they might lie so completely against one another. It was perfection. He stirred, shifting for a moment and reaching for something. She didn’t open her eyes to see what. But she sighed when his kilt wrapped around her. He tucked the length of soft wool over her body and his, stroking a hand through her hair to lie it in a straight line. Her lips rose into a smile of contentment. Maybe it was just fine that he was not what she had always expected of a husband.
After all, he was a Scot.


Edmund smiled. It was a small curve of his lips, nothing too large. But he was very pleased. Obviously the assassin was good and worth the money he’d paid the man. Across the great hall the man paused just long enough to make eye contact with him before he blended back into the crush of courtiers.
It took a clever man to gain entrance to the great hall, the feat likely costing the man a good bit of his fee.
Edmund tipped his mug back without a care for the cost of the wine. His lips curled into a sneer as he considered the pain it would cost him to retrieve his sister. She would have to make recompense for that. He never forgot a slight. Not even from a family member. He was the earl, or would be, as soon as his father died.
And his only sibling was not going to be bred by a Scot. Even if he had to offer his back to an assassin. He handed the goblet off and strode away from his retainers. They hid their smirks behind gloved hands, assuming he was off to enjoy a quick f*ck in the dark corridors of the palace now that it was well into the night.
Edmund grinned. He was off to set in motion a plan that was truly majestic in its cunning. He traveled the darker hallways, pinching out a few of the lanterns along the way. Outside the storm still raged, the wind driving heavy rain into the glass windows. It filled the hallways with noise, which suited him perfectly. He kept walking until he neared the dock. The royal barge was missing, no doubt taken to a safer harbor. Here the sound of the storm was loud because the river added to it. The water was choppy and speckled with debris such as tree limbs. He turned all the way around the corner but he was not alone.
“Now this is a surprise.”
Raelin McKorey turned in a flutter of gold silk and wool cloak. Her eyes widened when she recognized him. Edmund stood in the opening that would allow her off the dock.
“Meeting a lover, are you?”
She scowled at him. “I am not. I sought a bit of peace from the hall full of men like ye.”
Edmund toyed with the sword hanging from his hip. He stepped toward her and she backed away.
“I really am very happy to have this opportunity to settle our affairs.”
She glanced behind her, but stepped even closer to the edge of the dock when she looked up to find him closing in on her. The water was so swollen, it ran over the edges of the dock.
“Stop this. I am in service to the queen.”
“You are a bitch who doesn’t know her place—”
“Sweet mercy!”
Raelin’s eyes widened in terror. Edmund stared at her face, enjoying it. White-hot pain went through his shoulder, snapping him out of his mental obsession with watching Raelin suffer. He looked down to see the tip of a thin dagger protruding from his own body. The pain was so intense he felt almost in awe of it. His thoughts became sluggish, his heart thumping slower and slower. The dagger withdrew, sending a new stream of torment through his body. Hot pain felt as if it was melting his flesh.
“Good work. Exactly what I paid for.” He turned to look at the assassin, his thoughts still moving slowly.
“Guards!” Raelin raised her voice so it could be heard over the rushing water.
“Kill her!” Edmund turned and lunged toward Raelin. “She’ll ruin our game. I need McQuade blamed for this attack.” He grasped a handful of her silk skirts. She dug her heels into the wooden deck to escape, but his strength was too much for her.
“Kill her!” Rage began to burn in him again. “I want to see her bleed.”
The knife penetrated his own chest instead. This time his entire body went cold. His knees bent and slammed into the floor but there was no pain, only a growing chill. Every muscle drew taut, his fingers tightening on Raelin’s skirts. The tip of the dagger was stained with blood. The moonlight reflected off it as water soaked into his hose.
It was a mortal wound. Looking behind him, he stared at the man he’d hired.
“I paid you…to wound me….”
The man pulled his knife loose. “Aye, that you did, and I done my duty with the first thrust.”
“But…what means this second one?”
Edmund felt his heart slowing even more. There were long seconds when it did not beat at all. His hands twisted in the fabric of Raelin’s skirt, trying to hold onto the world of the living.
“Well now. Another man paid me to kill you. It’s only business, you understand. I’ve a family to provide for. You paid me to wound ye and he paid me to kill ye. I done both jobs.”
“Who?”
The assassin tilted his head and considered the question. He suddenly sniffed and shrugged. “Suppose it don’t make no difference if I tell you. Lord Ronchford paid me. To kill you. Claimed you took his money and never gave him what he paid for. Seeing as how he’s the man you left that letter naming Keir McQuade as the one that done the deed, it all works out rather well. To my way of thinking.” Both of my customers will be satisfied.
“I am…a…peer….”
“You’ll be a dead peer soon, as will the girl. I’m sorry about that. But she’s seen my face so I have to kill her. Pity, though. No one paid me to kill her. It’s a waste, sure enough.”
There was a rending of fabric. Raelin pulled the small dirk her brother insisted she carry from her bodice, and cut her dress away. She fell backward, crying out as her body tumbled into the raging water behind her. It rose over her head, encasing her in darkness that was bone-numbingly cold. The cloak pulled on her throat, choking her as the heavy fabric was caught by the current. She went deeper as she tried frantically to fight against her clothing. Her lungs burned and her fingers refused to unhook the cloak.
Sweet mercy help her….