A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four

by Barclay, Celeste

  Cairstine pressed her breasts against Eoin’s chest, enjoying the feel of his larger body against hers. She didn’t experience the panic she often did when men so much larger than her came so near. She forced herself to relax as one of Eoin’s hands eased along her ribs, but he stopped before touching her breast. The mounds of flesh ached and grew heavy, and she understood her body longed for his touch. She’d never felt this intense need before, but knowing she was with Eoin drove away the fear that usually consumed her at this point.

  Eoin marveled at the feel of Cairstine in his arms. She was a goddess incarnate. While it was obvious for anyone to see that she was petite in stature, she was more full-figured than Eoin expected. With only a chemise and leine to separate their torsos and holding one another closer than they had in the past, Eoin was gifted the opportunity to discover how alluring Cairstine’s body was. He left his hand resting on her ribs, his thumb just beneath her breast, but he feared he would spill his seed when she gave the faintest nod, silently encouraging his hand to move higher. He eased his hand near her breast, hovering rather than touching. Cairstine could feel the heat from Eoin’s palm even though it didn’t press against her. She arched her back, taking the initiative. She waited for the usual panic to flood her, but it never came. Instead, an achiness settled between her legs that matched how her breasts felt.

  “I won’t do aught you don’t want, Cairrie. Tell me to stop, and I will no matter what.”

  “I know, Eo. I—I—I want to be brave with you. It feels different with you. Your touch feels wonderful, but it makes me ache, and I don’t understand why.”

  “Mo leannan, that is desire and arousal. Your mind may not understand what we’re doing or how you feel, but your body does. I desire you just as much, and you stir my body. But I swear to you, that if you want to stop, we will.”

  “I—I don’t know what I want,” Cairstine stammered. It confused her how her body wanted something it had feared and rejected in the past, even when it was Eoin who offered it. She didn’t want to put an end to this, but she wasn’t certain she could let it go any further.

  “Perhaps we should return to camp, Cairrie. The men will guess what we’re aboot if we stay away any longer. Bram’s bound to come looking for you. He’d kill me if he saw us like this.”

  “I know you’re right, but I don’t want to. I’m scared that if there’s ever a next time, I’ll lose my nerve. I want to know if I’m still broken.”

  “Broken? There’s no part of you that is broken. You experienced something you never should have, and you were the victim. Understandably it scared you and made you wary, but it didn’t break you. Just the opposite, Cairrie. You have an iron will that refuses to ever be mistreated or abused again. Your refusal to marry is not because you’re broken. It’s because you’re strong enough to stand up for yourself and protect yourself from those who could harm you.” Eoin cupped her jaw, and she leaned into his warm palm. “I admire you for it.”

  “Will you kiss me again?” Cairstine whispered.

  Eoin’s answer was another kiss that seemed to make Cairstine blossom. She pressed his hand against her breast, guiding him to knead the supple flesh. She ran her hands over his chest until she reached the ties at his neck. She pulled them loose and slid her hands beneath the fabric. She had never felt anything like Eoin’s bare skin. It was smooth and warm, and the muscles beneath felt like iron that rippled as he moved. She ran her hand up his nape and tunneled her hand into his hair. Eoin’s other hand dropped to the hem of her chemise. He inched the shift up slowly, so he wouldn’t startle Cairstine. She felt the material shift and the cool air circulate around her inner thighs. She steeled herself once again for the inevitable panic if he touched the bare skin of her bottom, but rather than reject his intentions, her body seemed to hum with need as his palm grasped her backside.

  Cairstine continued to kiss Eoin and explored his chest and shoulders as his hands kneaded the mounds of flesh that were her breast and backside. She moaned, and her hips moved of their own volition. When her mound brushed against Eoin’s cock, she gasped, not from fear but the streak of arousal that shot from her core to her breasts. Eoin let go, but her hands flew to press them back to where they were.

  “Not scared,” she panted. “Surprised. Not scared.”

  “I know we should go back, but I don’t want to either,” Eoin admitted. “Tell me what you want.”

  “More?” She disliked the uncertainty in her voice. She wasn’t sure what more meant, but her body demanded it.

  “Cairrie, there is much more we can do without our bodies joining. I can show you things, do things, to pleasure you without coupling.”

  “I know. I’ve heard aboot it. I’ve even been curious, but I can’t bring myself to couple with any mon. Not ever again.”

  “When you tell me we’ve gone far enough, we go no further. It’s all under your control, Carrie. Always.” Even if it kills me or turns my bollocks blue.

  Cairstine nodded, and Eoin led her to a flat patch of land where a bush separated them from anyone who approached from the camp. Eoin drew his sword from the sheath on his back before removing his plaid, once more relieved that his leine hid his rampant cockstand. He spread the massive length of wool on the ground and eased Cairstine onto it. He ensured his sword was within reach before cradling Cairstine’s head in his hand. He swept his hand along her leg as she lay on her side facing him.

  “Do you want me to explain what I’m doing, what I intend to do?” Eoin offered.

  Cairstine shook her head. “I thought we’d be kissing. You can’t talk if you’re kissing me.”

  “Gladly,” Eoin grinned before resuming their kisses.

  His hand dipped beneath her chemise, resting on her thigh. His palm branded her as his long fingers stroked the inside of her thigh. He stroked her leg several times before drawing his hand to the front of her legs. He nudged them apart, grazing his fingertips along her inner thigh before brushing her nether lips. Cairstine lifted her bent top leg, offering Eoin access to a promised land he never imagined she would allow him to explore. He moved without haste, giving Cairstine an opportunity to grow accustomed to his touch and to stop him if she became overwhelmed. But the soft mewling sounds she made encouraged him. He felt the dew that gathered at her entrance, coating his fingers as he passed them over the swollen and heated flesh.

  “Should I be—well—like that down there?” Cairstine whispered, embarrassed that Eoin discovered how wet she’d grown.

  “Yes, mo leannan. Your body wants more than your mind does. Your body tells me it’s ready to accept mine.” Cairstine jerked away. “Shh, mo Cairrie. I won’t take it that far. Only my fingers, leannan. Naught more. But your body will enjoy this more since it’s ready. This dampness will make it easier for my fingers to enter you.” Neither seemed to notice the two times he called her sweetheart or how he claimed her as his Cairrie.

  Cairstine nodded as her eyes locked with Eoin’s as he slid the tip of his finger into her entrance. With patience he didn’t know he possessed, he eased the digit further into Cairstine. He watched her, and she sensed he was awaiting permission to do more. She nodded, and he slid a second finger into her, but didn’t move them.

  “Is that it?” she wondered aloud.

  Eoin’s smile was patient, even if rakish. “Not even nearly. I’m going slowly so your body and your mind grow used to my touch.” He drew back his fingers before pressing them into her sheath again, careful not to be forceful. His thumb passed over her numb twice before pressing against it. Cairstine shuddered as her hips rocked forward to meet his hand. He circled his thumb over her pearl, and Cairstine moaned. Her body assumed control, and she rolled onto her back, her legs falling open.

  Eoin shifted, his upper body hovering over hers, careful not to pin her to the ground. She reached her arms around him and pulled him closer. He waited, keeping a hair's breadth away from her, but she squeezed and pressed his chest to hers. Their mouths found each other once agai
n, and Eoin’s fingers continued to work Cairstine’s sensitive skin. With each dip into her sheath, he pressed a little further. The fourth time brought his fingers against a barrier. He froze in confusion. He was a well-experienced lover, and he knew he should have been able to press his fingers further into the shaft of a woman who was no longer a virgin. He could only assume he’d found Cairstine’s maidenhead since he’d never dallied with a virgin before. But he couldn’t reconcile what he felt with what Cairstine was certain had happened.

  “Can I touch you?” Cairstine’s innocent question eradicated any other thought in Eoin’s mind.

  “You can do aught you like,” Eoin smiled. Cairstine wasn’t brave enough to reach beneath his leine, and she was unconvinced the feel of his rod wouldn’t repulse her, but she was curious nonetheless. Her palm ran over his length on top of his leine. She skimmed her hand over it, barely feeling its outline until it twitched. She jerked her hand away as though it were on fire. “I’m sorry.”

  “Cairrie, you did naught wrong.” He smiled as he smoothed back her hair. “My body enjoys your touch. That was its way of letting you know it wishes you’d do more. But only if you want to.” Eoin was quick to clarify. Cairstine nodded before returning her hand, this time allowing her palm to form a loose hold on his cock. The girth shocked her, and she nearly blurted out that she couldn’t imagine how that fit anywhere, but she kept the thought to herself. She stroked her hand up and down as she surveyed its length before wrapping her hand tighter around it. Eoin groaned, and when she glanced up, she noticed he’d squeezed his eyes shut. He looked in pain.

  “I’m doing it wrong, aren’t I?”

  Eoin’s eyes flew open as he shook his head. “If you do it any more right, I will embarrass both us.” Eoin sucked in his breath and held it as he registered that Cairstine didn’t understand. “Your hand feels too good. I’ll spill my seed if you do much more.”

  “Oh,” Cairstine blushed. Her mouth remained in a perfect circle, and Eoin once more squeezed his eyes closed.

  “Don’t make that expression, Cairrie. It makes me think aboot things a woman can do with her mouth to a mon, and I absolutely will not teach you aboot that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because a mon doesn’t ask a lady to do such things.”

  “But you’ve had ladies do it, haven’t you? I mean ladies at court or wherever, not just whores.”

  “Cairstine,” Eoin hissed. His face would surely go up in flames. He was not prepared to discuss his bedchamber habits with her. “Those ladies learned what to do long before I came along. It’s not the same.”

  He pressed his lips to hers, cutting off any further comment as he focused on drawing out her pleasure. He worked his fingers and thumb until Cairstine’s fingers dug into his shoulders, and her soft moans grew closer together. Then she was shattering in his arms, and Eoin watched the most blissful expression take hold of Cairstine’s beautiful face. Pride and possessiveness surged through him, knowing he was the first man to ever pleasure Cairstine. A spark of jealousy flashed through him at the thought that another man might one day take his place. He pushed it aside as Cairstine breathed heavily beside him, but beamed.

  “Was that what the matrons talk aboot? A climax?”

  “Aye, mo Cairrie. That was your release. It’s what should pass between a mon and woman every time they’re intimate. It should always be aboot pleasure for both partners.”

  “But you didn’t get yours.”

  “My pleasure came from watching you.”

  Cairstine furrowed her brow, not understanding how that could be anything similar to what she experienced, but she wouldn’t ruin the moment by arguing.

  “I never imagined aught could feel like that. I feel like saying thank you would be rude, as though you did me a service, but I don’t know what else to say,” Cairstine admitted.

  “I will accept your thanks, knowing that you enjoyed this. That’s all I want.”

  Cairstine grew serious as she once again cupped his jaw in one hand. She used the other to tuck hair behind his ear. “You’re a good mon, Eoin Gordon. Far better than I think anyone realizes.” She forced herself to stop before she embarrassed herself by admitting that she wished he was her man, but she couldn’t. He didn’t want the only kind of marriage Cairstine could accept. She enjoyed what passed between them, and she’d never feared Eoin, but she knew she couldn’t do more. Her body might desire the pleasure, but her mind would refuse to allow it.

  “We need to head back to camp, Cairrie.”

  Cairstine nodded and stood. Eoin was quick to pleat his plaid as she donned her kirtle. Eoin watched Cairstine enter the camp before him, and once she settled on her bedroll near the fire, he approached. But Bram stepped in front of him, clasping his shoulder and leaning in.

  “Ye’re good for the lass, so that’s why I didna stop ye. But push her to do more, frighten her in any way, and I will kill ye. And there will be so little left after I destroy ye, even the birds willna find enough scraps to call ye a meal.” Bram’s voice was barely a whisper, but the deadly seriousness was loud and clear.

  Eoin nodded as he looked at Bram. “I have never forced a woman, and I don’t intend to start now. We want different things in life, but if I can show her she’s not damaged, then I will do all that I can. I just wish we wanted the same thing because I’d marry her if we did.”

  Eoin walked to his own bedroll that lay across the fire from Cairstine. He drifted off to sleep remembering the feel of her hand on him and the joy on her face.

  Chapter Fourteen

  By tacit agreement, Cairstine and Eoin shared few intimacies during the rest of the trip. Eoin didn’t want to push Cairstine too far and jeopardize the progress they had made as friends. Cairstine felt guilty for taking and not giving, but she feared she would panic and ruin things between them. They exchanged several heated gazes, but they also shared pleasant conversation as they rode. She and Bram recounted more stories from Cairstine’s childhood, and it appeared she’d had a happy one. While she didn’t attend Mass as often once she joined the royal court, and Eoin only attended once a day most of the time, they found they shared a deep and abiding faith. It surprised her to discover the depth and breadth of Eoin’s religious education mirroring her own. She’d sucked her lips in to keep from saying that he reminded her of a fallen angel with the combination of his looks, his reputation, and his spiritual knowledge.

  When they stopped to water their horses on the third day, they rested by a river that bordered a meadow of wildflowers. Cairstine convinced Eoin to allow her to pick flowers, but he insisted on escorting her. They walked through the high grass in silence until Cairstine found a patch of buttercups. She plucked one and turned to Eoin.

  “Let’s see if it’s true,” she teased.

  “See if what is true?”

  “That you like butter if the flower reflects under your chin.” She didn’t hesitate to lift her hand to Eoin’s face and held the flower beneath his chin.

  “What do you see?” he asked.

  “Tell me first whether you like butter.”

  “Shouldn’t you tell me if it reflects then I’ll tell you whether it’s right?” Eoin countered, but Cairstine shook her head. With a playful huff, he gave in. “Yes, I like butter.”

  “I knew it! The flower doesn’t lie. Your chin is yellow,” Cairstine giggled.

  Eoin bent down and plucked a flower and lifted it to her chin, but he frowned. “It seems you don’t like butter.”

  Cairstine’s expression matched Eoin’s. “But I do. Are you sure?”

  “Perhaps your face is already too radiant for me to see,” Eoin offered. He shocked himself with the sincerity in his voice. Cairstine beamed at the compliment.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She swayed toward him, and his arms wrapped around her. They stepped together as their mouths found one another. The kiss was tender and soft for several heartbeats, but then the irrepressible fire sparked between them. Eoin inche
d his hand toward Cairstine’s breast, once more giving her a chance to stop him. But instead she moaned and arched into his hand. Cairstine felt braver than ever before, first pushing Eoin’s sporran to the side, then hooking her fingers into his belt and pulling him closer. The clothes separating them gave her more courage.

  Eoin eased the hem of Cairstine’s kirtle up until he could slide his hand along her thigh before grasping her buttocks. His hand traveled over the silky skin, running from her knee to her backside. During one pass, he lifted her leg and hooked it over his hip.

  “Do you want me to touch you again?” Eoin murmured.

  “Aye,” Cairstine breathed.

  Eoin eased her down to the grass, careful to keep her covered lest someone discover them. His fingers slipped into her sheath as he groaned at how wet she’d grown so quickly.

  “I confess I seem to be like that any time I’m near you,” Cairstine whispered. “I can’t seem to help it.”

  “My body has the same reaction, Cairrie.” Eoin pressed his thumb against her pearl, circling it over and over, adding pressure until Cairstine’s hips rocked against his hand. He kept his fingers shallow, still unsure of what he’d discovered the last time they laid together like this. When he felt her tense, he brought his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries of ecstasy. He continued to wreak havoc on her senses until she climaxed twice more. Breathless, Cairstine watched as Eoin eased her skirts back down. She tugged on his leine, and she offered the sweetest kiss he’d ever had. Afterward, Cairstine picked more flowers and tied them into a chain she wore around her neck, just as she had as a child. Bram teased, but Eoin intuited Cairstine’s lighter mood was a relief to the guardsman.

  On their fourth day, they arrived at their first mountain pass. Cairstine kept her eyes ahead of her as Bram led the group up the mountainside. Eoin maneuvered himself behind Cairstine, so he could watch for any sign of danger. The horses inched along the narrow ledge, at times hundreds of feet above the ground with rocks chipping away under their weight. Eoin knew men terrified of heights who refused to travel if they had to do so through the mountains, but Cairstine didn’t flinch despite sharing her aversion to heights. He suspected she’d made the journey through the Cairngorms nearly as many times as he had.