A Beautiful Lie (The Camaraes) (54 page)

He smirked cruelly, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. 
“
Don
’
t try and tell me that you don
’
t want this,
”
he hissed nastily. 
“
Not when you
’
re dripping like a common whore,
”
he snarled against ear.  Muira drew a pain-filled breath and tried to strike him, but Lachlan caught her hand and easily held her still. 
“
Now, now, I
am
going to fuck you, Muira,
”
he promised brutally. 
“
Because that
’
s the only thing you
’
re good for.
”

Oh God, she wanted to die
…
Muira was certain that the pain in her chest was her heart breaking, only after a few moments did she realise that she
’
d actually stopped breathing.  She took a great gulping breath- just as Lachlan plunged mercilessly between her legs.  Muira screamed.  The sheath of her sex was small and tight and Lachlan was so enormously huge that his violent possession almost tore her apart.

She sobbed bitterly as he thrust cruelly into her body, clutching desperately at his shoulders just to keep from passing out.  Muira wanted to hold onto the pain, she wanted to remember it to convince herself that she
didn
’
t
want this, but her sobs lessened into moans as the hurt ebbed away, replaced by intense waves of pleasure. 

She
hated
herself for enjoying it.  Shame burned through Muira
’
s body as her hips began to rock in time with Lachlan
’
s driving thrusts.  She didn
’
t want to taste the ecstasy that he could deal out effortlessly!  But the harder she tried to fight, the harder Lachlan seemed to plunge, grinding their bodies together in a mockery of the previous intimacies that they had shared.

Tears were streaking Muira
’
s cheeks, and when her body erupted in spasms of bliss a soul-shattering cry flew from her lips.  She tried slumped back on the desk as Lachlan continued to take her, but his hands gripped her tight, holding her in place has he continued to use her body. 

Muira screwed her eyes shut, wanting to remove herself from what was happening to her body, but she couldn
’
t escape the tingles of pleasure that rippled through her flesh as she felt the thick rod of Lachlan
’
s cock moving inside her.  He finally came, spilling himself inside her long, jetting spurts.

Once it was over, the silence that filled room was terrible.  Muira kept her eyes shut, and tried not to make a sound as she caught her breath.  It was ruined.  Everything was broken.

“
I hate you,
”
she hissed softly.  Her voice sounded numb and nothing like her own- it seemed so much older.

Lachlan didn
’
t seem to be able to speak at all.  He didn
’
t respond to what Muira had said at least.  He stayed exactly as he was, still clutching at her body as the connection between them softened and fell away.

Muira couldn
’
t push Lachlan back.  But she wanted to- she never wanted to be touched by him again!  She was so ashamed of the things that he could make her feel, even against her own will!  Perhaps she really was the whore that he had accused her of being?  Fresh tears begin to slide down Muira
’
s cheeks and her body began to tremble as she wept.

“
Muria?
”
Lachlan whispered raggedly. 
“
God, Muira I-
”
he reached to touch her face, but she flinched and turned away.  He pulled back as though he
’
d been burned. 
“
I-
”
he choked again, but didn
’
t seem capable of adding any more.  Muira opened her eyes, and stared at him, her gaze was hollow and haunted. 
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
Lachlan breathed, but the look on his face told Muira he knew that it was never going to be enough.

“
Leave me alone,
”
she said quietly.  There was no real venom to the plea, but there was no real
anything
to it.  She felt completely drained, completely empty.

“
Muira-
”
Lachlan began, trying to help her off the desk, but Muira slapped his hands away and got down herself. 

She winced at the soreness that was located between her legs, and at the tender aching hurt where a number of bruises were rising on the pale skin of her arms and legs.

“
Muira-
”

“
I want to sleep,
”
she hissed, shuffling stiltedly out of the study.

“
We have to talk-
”

“
I
don
’
t
want to talk to you!
”
Muira spat, turning slightly and shooting a vicious glare in the direction of her husband. 

He looked so lost
.  Muira almost felt herself weaken
…
maybe he hadn
’
t really meant any of it
…
?  But then she remembered the things he
’
d said- that she was Cameron whore, only good for one thing- and her resolved hardened against him.

He wandered after her, not seeming to dare to get too close in case she bolted or struck out again.  Muira crawled into bed, hugging the blankets tight around her body.  She didn
’
t want to run the risk of touching him when (or should that be
‘
if
’
?) he got into bed too.  Lachlan could deal out pain with his body, but he could also deal out pleasure- he was so exquisitely good at that- and Muira was afraid that if she let him, he could make her forgive him, just as he had made her love him against her will.

She clenched her eyes shut and tried to ignore him, tried to blank out everything that had happened.  Muira knew that would be a fruitless endeavour however.  She knew she would lie awake all night reliving what had just happened between them.

Lachlan tried to speak to her again, but Muira refused to answer him, refused to even open her eyes.  After several minutes, she heard the tread of his boots on the floorboards as he turned and walked away.  She bit her lip when she heard the door swing open, and then began to cry in earnest when she listened to it close again.

..ooOOoo..

What had he done?  Oh God, what had he done?

Lachlan felt physically sick as he replayed the events of the evening over in his mind - from their first argument and him storming out on Muira, to then feeling guilty and returning to apologise, only to find his wife rifling through his private papers.  He
’
d seen red.  The anger that had surged through his veins had been frightening and uncontrollable
…
he hadn
’
t tried to control it.  He had unleashed it
…
upon Muira
…
his wife. 

A woman he had believed that he might be falling in love with
…

It was that sense of betrayal that had tipped him over the edge, Lachlan argued, although he knew it was no excuse for his actions.  He was tired and over worked.  He had already fought with Muria, and to then find her looking at the maps
…

But the look in her eyes, as he took her by force, would haunt Lachlan forever.  The things that he
’
d spat at her, echoed in his head.  He
’
d been
so
cruel because in those moments, when he seemed to have been driven by madness, Lachlan had feared that none of it was real- that everything he thought he
’
d read in her face was a lie.  He
’
d made himself vulnerable, and been made a fool of- or that was what he
’
d thought, feared, and now
…
now he would give anything and everything to take it back.

I hate you
…
 

He hated himself too, but hearing Muira spit those words at him when he
’
d been longing for weeks to hear her confess the complete opposite had nearly killed him.

Lachlan didn
’
t know what to do with himself- he couldn
’
t wander around the castle all night, and yet he didn
’
t know if he
’
d worked up the courage to go back to Muira.  It was cowardly, but in the end, he simply kept walking until he was outside in the moonlit courtyard.

“
Someone looks lonely,
”
purred a voice from the shadows.

Lachlan tensed automatically and glanced over his shoulder.  Morag emerged from the black hollow of a doorway.  He wondered whom she
’
d been waiting for
…
and then realised he didn
’
t much care.  When Morag had been
‘
his girl
’
–
as loosely as that term applied
–
he
’
d made sure, as far as he could, that she broke off her arrangements with other men.  If wasn
’
t that he cared for her.  He simply didn
’
t share.  Now Lachlan realised that he didn
’
t give a damn if Morag was bestowing
‘
favours
’
on the entire MacRae clan.