DevilsHeart (13 page)

He shoved her forward onto her hands and knees. She closed
her eyes, every muscle tensed in anticipation. The mattress shifted beneath her
and his hands were on her breasts, kneading her nipples with his fingers.

Rathe pressed kisses down her back, pulling his palms from
her abdomen to her hips. And then his tongue slithered down her slit and
flicked her swollen clit. Every nerve in her body was on fire.

He pressed a heated kiss into her hip. “Did you like that?”

She whimpered, flexing her hips toward him.

Pressing his thumbs against her backside, he spread her open
wider and shifted until he was kneeling between her knees. “Another time,
love.”

The tip of his cock pressed against her entrance and she
fought to remain still, barely breathing.

“This is mine, you hear me?” He dug his fingers into her
hips. “Mine.”

A heightening tremor rippled through her pussy, almost
pushing her over the edge. The raw domination in his tone pulled at something
deep and primal within her. She needed to be his, welcomed his claim to her
body. Craved his possession. And then strange, foreign words tumbled from her
mouth, shocking her into stillness. “I am yours.”

He didn’t give her time to take the words back. He impaled
her, twisting a guttural cry of surprise and lust from her throat. His cock
swelled within her, her core straining to accommodate him as it rippled with
rhythmic, heady pulsations. He eased back and then in an excruciating, slow
motion filled her again. Repeating the motion over and over, her aching,
distended nipples grazing across the bedcovers and sending sharp pangs of
pleasure directly to her clit.

He was likely to kill her like this, hovering just beyond
driving her to the brink. Her knees wobbled, her arms almost jellylike. Her
core vibrating, clit swelling and throbbing, sending erotic waves through her
abdomen as his balls hit it over and over again.

She whimpered and met him halfway on his next thrust into
her, moaning at the satisfying smack of her ass against him and his cock
driving hard into her. He backed out slowly again, but then pulled her hips
against him with a violent yank.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her pussy shuddering in a steady,
increasing rhythm. Her head fell forward and he dug his fingers into her hips,
thrusting into her with a maddening speed. Sparks flew through her flesh as she
smacked against him, her pussy weeping with moisture.

And then he paused, shaft fully embedded inside her. His
fingers found her clit, tearing a cry from her throat at the intense, surge of
pleasure. He held her still, encircling the sensitive nub, drawing pants from
her lungs as her head spun. A spasm deep within her core uncoiled, rippling
through her pussy, throwing her body into convulsions. Her vision blackened as
she tightened around him, riding the erotic waves flowing through her.

“Yes, yes, lass,” he hissed.

He released her clit and pounded into her. She shifted her
hips back in rhythm with his, seeking more. Another smaller, but deeper pulse
drew another whimper of satisfaction from her lips. With a guttural cry, he
stilled within her, his cock pulsating, her core warming as his hot seed burst
within.

She groaned and her arms fell out from underneath her. He
caught her by the waist and eased himself out of her before lowering her to her
stomach on the bed. He fell onto his back beside her with a loud exhalation.

Her eyes fluttered open. He was staring at the ceiling, one
hand on his forehead as his chest rose and fell with his deep breaths. As if
sensing her stare, he turned toward her, an arrogant grin spreading across his
face.

“Like that, did you, lass?”

Her cheeks heated and she dropped her gaze to his chest,
admiring the deep furrows around his muscles, which were highlighted by the
firelight. Liked it? It had never been this good before. Even with Rathe. The
two other times they’d been together were already the best sex of her life. But
this…

He traced a finger down her spine, sending shivers through
her skin. “Who would have thought my shy little doe would like it so rough?”

Rough, yes. Savage even. God, what had happened to her? When
Simon spent an extra few minutes on some gentle, romantic foreplay, she was a
happy, satisfied woman who could then go about her life in a normal fashion.
But with Rathe she was in a near-constant state of arousal, always needing his
touch, wanting his cock, and the more forcefully he fucked her, the harder she
came. She’d almost come at his insistence her pussy belonged to him.

He gave her a playful smack on the backside and rolled away.
“Time for sleep, lass. We have an early morning ahead of us.”

Her stomach sank. An early morning. How could she forget?

It was time to play the dutiful thirteenth-century wife.

“My lady.”

A hand smoothed down Leah’s arm, wresting her away from a
deep, restorative slumber. She groaned and rolled onto her back, pointing her
toes as she stretched her legs under the covers. Her eyes fluttered open to
Morna’s gentle smile as the servant brushed the hair back from Leah’s eyes.

Morna spoke softly, adding the words “my lady”—the only
English she knew—to the end of whatever she had said, and pulled back the
covers. Aisleen whisked into the room, carrying a fresh, off-white leine and
blue overdress with fanciful embroidered leaves and flowers scrolling along the
edges. Within minutes, Leah was dressed and sitting in front of the fire as
Morna brushed and braided Leah’s hair.

Leah twisted the fabric of her overdress around her fingers
and chewed on her bottom lip. She’d half expected to wake up to Rathe next to
her, but there wasn’t a single sign of him anywhere. No discarded clothing, no
random boot lying around. Where was he? His absence almost made it seem as though
the whole fight, marriage, and wedding night had been nothing more than a
dream.

That was until Aisleen pulled two leather bags from a trunk
at the end of the bed and proceeded to pack all the clothing Leah had
accumulated during her stay with the mormaer. As she reached the top of the
second bag, Aisleen placed the jeans, shoes, and shirt in which Leah had
arrived in the thirteenth century.

The packing could only mean one thing—Rathe was leaving and
Leah was to go with him. She swallowed the rising lump in her throat as she
cast her gaze around the sparse but cozy room she’d occupied for the past two
weeks. She would be going deep into the Highlands, well north of Graham land
and Fannich village, if her gleanings of the location of the Sinclair lands were
correct.

Morna finished Leah’s hair and laid the brush along with a
few ribbons on top of Leah’s jeans. Aisleen closed the satchels and opened the
door, motioning for a young man to enter the room and take the bags.

Leah turned toward the young women who had taken care of her
for the past two weeks. Morna’s brown eyes glistened with tears and Aisleen
gave her a warm smile. A heaviness settled into Leah’s heart. She’d barely
exchanged more than rudimentary, mutually intelligible words with them, but
they had always been so kind to her. Morna hesitated for a moment but then
threw her arms around Leah. Aisleen followed suit with a tight hug.

“
Gu’unrobh maith agad.
” Leah pressed her lips
together as tears stung her eyes. At least she could thank them in their language.

The two women smiled and curtsied.

Leah turned and swept out into the corridor, hurrying away
from the room. She descended the stairs, wiping her eyes with the back of her
hand. She paused as she reached the second floor. Glenna might be in her room
playing. It was sad the French lessons with the lively, lovely little girl had
come to the end.

Turning out of the stairwell and in to the corridor, someone
caught her by the elbow. “My lady.”

She stopped just as Andrew MacTavish circled around to face her.
She gasped and took an instinctive step back.

“Pray forgive my interruption, but you are looking lovely
this morning, Leah. Or should I say, Lady Sinclair?” A brief flash of hatred
flickered through his brown eyes, belying the easy smile playing at his full
lips.

The reddened slash across his cheek caught her attention.
His flesh had been stitched together and she fought back a cringe. How anyone
had withstood the sensation of a needle and thread going through his or her
flesh without the availability of anesthetic was beyond her.

“Thank you,” she forced out, her voice breathy and halted.
“I-I was just looking for the mormaer’s daughter. To say goodbye.”

“Ah.” His brows rose as he nodded his understanding. “The
family is all downstairs, already finished breaking their fast.” His eyes
flitted down her form and back up, settling upon her breasts.

Her throat dried as her stomach twitched. “All right, well,
thank you.” She picked up her skirts to turn back into the stairwell.

He caught her elbow again, this time drawing her backward.
She froze.

“I had only taken my eyes off the Sinclair for a moment,” he
whispered into her ear as he trailed a light finger down her spine. “I wanted
to be sure you were all right. That is when he got me. I am so very sorry, my lady.
I failed you.”

He pressed his body closer, leaving only the barest slip of
air between them. But it wasn’t enough to prevent her from guessing his
intentions as his cock swelled against her hip.

She drew her brows together, her eyes narrowing into slits.
Rathe was right. This guy couldn’t be trusted. What asshole tries to seduce
another man’s wife the morning after the wedding night? She shook her head and
tried to step away.

Andrew tightened his hold on her elbow and spun her around
to face him, grasping her other arm with his free hand. “Are you all right? Did
he hurt you at all?”

She froze, her tongue tied into a stunned silence. Hurt her?
What was he talking about?

He looked her up and down once more and sighed with a shake
of his head. “Forgive me, my lady. You must think me daft going on like this.
It is just that…” He pressed his lips together and cast his gaze over her
shoulder.

Curiosity overruled her urge to run. “What?”

“The Sinclair’s last wife had delicate sensibilities, like
you,” he whispered with a sympathetic tilt of his head. “I tried to help her,
but she was so wounded by his cruelty. Nothing I could do or say ever helped
the poor lass. I thought maybe, if I could warn you, I might save you from the
same fate.”

An anxious chill shot through her heart. What if she was
wrong about him? What if she was wrong about Rathe? What if Andrew was the one
telling the truth?

Andrew shook his head. “He was cruel and vindictive. He
crushed her heart by openly taking other women to his bed. He demanded she
debase herself for him and take part in unspeakable acts. I dare not say more
for fear of offending your sensibilities, my lady.”

She bit her lower lip, dropping her gaze from Andrew. Before
the rushed marriage had been forced upon her, she would have balked at the
notion Rathe could be cruel or vindictive. But the stony look in his eyes and
the cold, biting edge to his voice when she had suggested giving him the land
if he would help her to get back home gave her pause. In reality, Rathe was a
stranger to her.

She’d already dodged a bullet with Simon, never considering
he would ever stray. But Rathe? She’d seen how other women looked at him as he
walked past. Even Alpina, with as much contempt as she held for him, couldn’t
seem to keep her eyes off him when he was in the room. Besides only a man who’d
had a lot of practice with a lot of women could be as talented in producing
mind-bending orgasms as he was.

Rathe probably never went long between bed partners and this
was the thirteenth century, after all. Powerful men weren’t exactly known for
keeping it in their pants when there were so many serving girls at their
disposal. But, damn it, if Leah was going to be forced into playing the
dutiful, faithful wife for the next year, then she wanted the same loyalty in
return. Could she expect that from Rathe though?

“You should go, my lady. The Sinclair will be waiting and it
would do you no good for him to hear you have been seen conversing with me.”

“Why?”

Low voices carried up the stairway. Andrew yanked her to the
side and shoved her against the wall. He put a finger to his lips and peered
through the doorway.

Disturbing flickers of apprehension heated the back of her
neck, slithering down her spine. Rathe could catch her with Andrew. Their
hatred for one another would ensure some sort of fight breaking out or, at the
very least, an accusation of her being unfaithful. Ugh, she hated
confrontation. What she needed was to escape and fast.

She wriggled her way out from between Andrew and the wall
and headed for the stairwell. She stopped short as Andrew grabbed her elbow
again.

“I am but a day’s ride from the Sinclair holding,” Andrew
stated, his eyes blazing in deep earnest. “You need only to send word and I
will come for you. I will help you take what is yours.”

She paused as a brief notion of engaging Andrew in her quest
to return home flitted through her mind. But then she caught the flame of
hatred leaping within his eyes and abandoned the idea. She shook off his grasp
and picked up her skirts. Her heart thudded in a hurried, erratic rhythm as she
flew down the stairs, her mind whirling with disconnected thoughts and the
desperate urge to put distance between herself and Andrew. Something about the
man made her skin crawl. The sooner she could get into the presence of other
people, the safer she would be.

Voices carried up the stairway and relief settled into her
belly as the form of a servant conversing with a man came into view. She
exhaled in a huff, releasing the tension from her lungs.

But then she stopped short at the bottom of the stairs, just
before stepping into the great hall. Dark hair. Flashing green eyes.

And a buxom blonde with hands in places they shouldn’t be.

Oh God.
It was the Facebook debacle all over again.

“Leah.”

Leah’s knees buckled, her stomach clenching hard. She
grabbed for the wall and stared back at Rathe in stunned silence. His hands
were on the woman’s shoulders, his body tense and rigid, while the woman in
front of him held his chin in one hand and cupped his cock with the other.

Rathe shoved the woman away and started toward Leah. “This
is not what it appears to be.”

Strength returned to Leah’s limbs and she stepped backward
into the great hall, tearing her stunned, moistening eyes away from him.

He reached for her and she stepped back again, her gaze
dropping to his outstretched hand. A sharp pain shot through her heart, her
control slipping away.

“Damn it, Leah, do not look at me like that,” he hissed, his
hand falling to his side.

She swallowed hard and turned away. “Then I won’t,” she
whispered, picking up her skirts.

Her skirts tangled around her legs as she strode across the
great hall toward the exit from the keep. Outside. Fresh air. That’s what she
needed. Maybe it could help clear the strange, unexpected ache squeezing her
chest.

“Leah, do not walk away from me when I am speaking to you!”

Hot indignation over his arrogant tone rushed through her
throat. “Go to hell!”

Footfalls echoed behind her and she quickened her pace.

“Come here, now.”

She bristled at the irritation in his voice and yanked the
door open. A hand wrapped around her arm just as the sun hit her in the face.
She shook it off with a violent twist of her shoulder. Anger and humiliation
blistered her skin, her blood roaring in her ears.

“Fuck off!” she blasted back, stepping outside.

Leah halted as her eyes adjusted to the sudden bright light.
Dozens of people stared back at her. With the exception of the clucking of a
few chickens and the snorting of horses, the courtyard was silent in
expectation.

Rathe chuckled in her ear as he slipped his arm around her
waist. “‘Go to hell’, I understand. But ‘fuck off’? What does that even mean?”

She tensed against him, her heart aching at his nearness.
She allowed him to draw her back into the keep and away from prying eyes before
she spun around and shoved him.

He backed away, holding up his palms as though to surrender.
“Leah—”

“Don’t say my name,” she spat, her pulse jerking in
instinctive pleasure as her name fell from his lips.

He cocked one eyebrow as he stared down his nose at her. “I
am not allowed to say your name?”

It was a childish, desperate impulse. But it continued to
worm its way through the chaotic thoughts and feelings whirling through her
head. She crossed her arms, locking her jaw as she returned his stare.

A heavy, dismissive sigh rumbled forth from his chest. “You
are not making any sense. Come, it is time to go. We will speak of this later.”

A strange mashup of images swirled in her head, sending her
heart into a dark, downward spiral. The woman’s hand on Rathe’s cock. Simon and
Mandy in Vegas. And then, from out of nowhere, Andrew’s voice chimed in
repeating stories of Rathe’s unfaithfulness to his last wife.

She refused to play the fool again. She narrowed her eyes at
him, a surge of anger loosening her usually careful tongue. “No, there’s plenty
of time for you to go fuck her. I’ll wait outside.”

She turned but he grabbed her wrists. He pushed her backward
until she hit the stone wall. She thrust her hands against his chest, wrenching
her body away from him in an effort to escape.

Rathe pinned her arms to either side of her head and pressed
his body along the length of hers, halting her struggles. Her chest heaved in
frustration over the sudden loss of freedom.

His nostrils flared, rage glowing in his eyes as he tilted
his face down to her. His lips thinned and skipped across hers on their way to
her ear. “You are the only woman I want to
fuck
.”

She winced at his jagged, vulgar emphasis on the last word
and tried to twist her wrists out of his grasp.

He tightened his hold and nipped at her ear with his teeth.
“Stop, Leah.”

His breath caressed her ear, warming her skin and she was
drawn back into him. The pang in her heart softened with the steady beat of
his. His woodsy scent infiltrated her lungs.

“Yes, I have spent many a night with Janet,” he rumbled
against her ear. “But that was in the past. Unless you are willing to lift
whatever witches’ spell keeping me from getting hard at the sight of any other
woman but you, I suggest you calm down and listen before accusing me of
infidelity.”