The Imposter

by Jenna Stone

  “Yes, gentle and slow,” I whispered as I stroked his manhood with my hand, so firm and yet seemingly enveloped in velvet. Touching him made me feel powerful. My body responded to him quickly as well, so quickly that it scared me. I released him and slid my hand between my thighs, covering my hand with the wetness that I found there. I returned my hand to his manhood, bathing him in the invitation of what lied in wait between my thighs.

  “Kate,” he whispered as a groan escaped from his lips. I stroked him firmly, enjoying the feeling of him bucking beneath my hand. He started to roll over and I pushed him back, flat against the bed.

  “No, it’s my turn this time. My turn to take the lead, my turn to torment you, husband.”

  Loving Devon made me feel bold, powerful. In our marriage, I was his equal, and I was curious to learn more about the art of lovemaking. I knew that he could teach me how to pleasure him and I also knew that he liked it when I took control.

  “Be my guest,” he responded, as another groan of ecstasy escaped his lips. Devon’s eyes sparkled with lusty anticipation as he watched me.

  I rose above his prone body and moved to straddle him, hand still moving slowly against him. I had dreamed of making love to him this way ever since my “riding lesson” had been interrupted.

  I felt like a goddess in the moonlight that shone through the small window, bathing the bed in a warm glow. My hair hung in loose waves down my back and my breasts were firm, nipples erect from the chill in the night air. I felt sexy, and liked that he was giving me complete control. I released him and guided his manhood to the hot, wet entrance of my body. Ever so slowly, I lowered myself onto his shaft, inching down until he was inside of me to the hilt. I was sore, but the way that he stretched me felt good despite the pain. He growled ever so slightly in his throat, a sound that had become quite endearing to me. The look that played across his face showed that my sweet torment was forcing him to fight to retain his fragile composure. I knew that he wanted to take control of our lovemaking, and thrust deep within me. I loved that he was fighting against his instincts, allowing me to be in control, giving himself to me fully.

  “Slowly and gently,” I reminded him as I began to move slowly, riding him, mimicking the movements that he had taught me. His hands were upon my breasts and neck, his touch felt divine. Our skin looked silver in the moonlight, adding a dream like quality to our love making. I lowered down and captured his lips for a passionate kiss, tongues dueling and pressing each other for more. Devon’s hands moved to my hips, guiding my movements, matching my rhythm with his own.

  He growled again, deep within his throat. “Ye feel like heaven, lass. Sae good,” his right hand moved to caress the bead of my womanhood, gently driving me mad with desire. As he stroked me ever so slowly, his left hand remained firm on my hips guiding my movements upon his shaft, but still allowing me full control of our lovemaking.

  I felt the pressure within me building, and my muscles quivered as the first wave of orgasm overtook me. I arched my body backwards, supported by Devon’s hands, and succumbed to my orgasm, shattering into what felt like a thousand small pieces. The quivering of my body, spurred Devon to his own release. With one final thrust deep within me and a masculine groan, he joined me in orgasm. His cock bucked and shook within me as he spilled his seed. I lowered myself to rest on his chest, noticing that both of our bodies were breathing heavy, exhausted by the intensity of our slow love making.

  “I’m apologizing in advance for tomorrow, lass. Yer going tae be quite sore,” he warned. I knew that he was sorry for hurting me, but that he had quite enjoyed the process that led to my soreness.

  “Apology accepted. It was worth it,” I smiled against his chest.

  “Ye’ll be the death of me, for sure woman. I’ve never had such a response to a woman, never felt such release. The way that ye respond to me is maddening. It’s as if ye are a part of me, knowing just what to do to drive me crazy.”

  “I quite like driving you to madness, husband,” I smiled, admitting the pleasure that I found in giving pleasure to Devon. “Imagine what I’ll be able to do with a little practice,” I teased, anticipating plenty of opportunity for practice.

  “Practice makes perfect! And if we must practice, then so be it, lass,” Devon laughed. “The only problem is that I have a feeling that all I am going to want tae do is practice, practice, practice. I can’t get enough of ye, Kate.”

  ***

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” Devon said as he kissed my cheek and pulled me close against his chest.

  “No,” I grumbled, not sharing his love of the early morning hours.

  “Yes,” he whispered breath warm against my neck as he placed gentle kisses across my collarbone. “I’ve got something that I’m dying tae show ye and we don’t have much time before I have tae lead morning drills.”

  “Mmmm,” I moaned in response to his kisses, pressing back against him. “Can’t it wait till later?”

  “Nope. It’s kind of time sensitive,” he said, slapping my bum gently and rolling out of bed. “C’mon, ye can crawl back in bed and sleep the day away afterwards.”

  Reluctantly, I left the cocoon of blankets and set a tentative foot onto the cold flagstone floor. I brushed the hair back out of my face and pushed up from the bed, goosebumps covering my skin in the early morning chill that had overtaken our chambers. Devon was clad only in his kilt and I noticed that the cold never seemed to bother him. He was busy starting a fire in the hearth; a measure that I knew was more for my benefit than his own. I walked over to the chest and chose a simple homespun dress, pulling it over my head, and cinching up the laces. I noticed that Devon had turned and was watching me as I dressed.

  “Yer sae beautiful, Kate,” he said, still knelt before the hearth.

  I hardly felt beautiful first thing in the morning, but the way that he looked at me, the intensity in his green eyes made me believe that he genuinely thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world. He stood from the fire and walked towards me, enclosing me in his arms in an instant. The skin of his chest was so warm beneath my fingers, and I felt the beginnings of arousal building within my own body.

  “Good morning, Wife,” he said, green eyes intense.

  “Good morning, Husband,” I said, looking up at him with a slight smile.

  I stood on my toes and kissed him like I meant it. His lips were hungry on mine, possessive yet sensitive.

  “Are ye sore, sweetheart?” he whispered, looking down at me, concern heavy on his face.

  “A little,” I admitted, feeling the tenderness between my legs. “But I don’t mind,” I said, smiling.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, kissing me on the forehead as he held me tight against him. “I shouldna have let ye take advantage of me the second time,” he said jokingly. “I’ll give ye a moment alone tae wake up properly. Is there anything that ye might need before I go?”

  “No,” I said kissing his neck before pulling away from his warmth. “Where are we going?”

  “Not far. Meet me in the stables after a few minutes,” he said, placing a tender kiss on my lips before slipping quietly from out chamber and closing the door securely behind himself.

  I spent a few minutes tidying my appearance and then left the keep in the earliest moments of the morning light. The sun was just beginning to rise up above the mountains and cast an orange glow up in the sky. My breath came in small puffs as I exhaled into the chilly morning air and I gathered the warm security of Devon’s plaid more closely around my shoulders.

  As I trod down the well worn path to the stables, I noticed the feeling of peace and happiness that had settled within me. Even though I was not a lover of the early morning hours, in fact I couldn’t even remember the last time I had been up this early, there was a skip in my step and an unshakeable feeling of happiness deep within me. I had never thought that it would be possible for me to be happy here, but because of Devon, I was in fact very happy and content.

  As I approached
the stables, I noticed that Devon was standing in the small pasture attached to the barn, booted foot up on the rail of the fence, seemingly oblivious to the cold morning despite the fact that I knew he was completely bare beneath his kilt. He had the strangest expression on his face as he watched me approach, never taking his eyes off of me until I was standing directly in front of him, but on the opposite side of the fence.

  Without saying a word, he reached across the waist high fence and took my hand, then slid it between the buttons of his shirt so that it was resting on his warm skin, right in the center of his chest.

  “Do ye feel that, Kate?” he asked eyes intense as he held my hand against his chest with his own hand. “Do ye feel my heartbeat?”

  “Yes,” I said cautiously, wondering if he had gone mad. Maybe he was used to getting more sleep than I had allowed him last night.

  I felt the quick paced thudding beneath my hand and looked up to see a somewhat forlorn look on Devon’s face.

  “Ye do that tae me every time that I lay eyes on ye. I canna help myself,” he said, glancing away as if trying to find the right words. “I can see ye across a room, or lying in bed asleep, or walking down the path towards me right now and it’s as if my heart goes wild. Sometimes I fear that it might beat right out of my chest.”

  I smiled up as him, touched by the sweetness of his words, hand still encased in his own, resting on his chest.

  “And it’s no just…just the sex, it’s more than that. It’s you. I’ve never had this happen tae me before. It’s how my body responds tae ye every time.”

  I leaned against the fence, hand still hovering over his heart and kissed him.

  “I’ll take good care of your heart, Devon,” I smiled, resting my forehead against his.

  “Thank ye,” he whispered as he collected himself. “Are ye ready tae see yer surprise?”

  “Sure!” I said, releasing him and walking around to meet him at the front door of the stable.

  He met me and took my hand, then led me into the stable.

  “Now close yer eyes. No peeking!”

  “Alright,” I responded, walking carefully in the direction that he led me, knowing that he would keep me from tripping over anything.

  He raised my hand up and placed it on one of the doors that kept the horses separated into their stables, then came to stand behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders.

  “Alright, open them,” he whispered into my ear, stubble scratching my cheek.

  I opened my eyes to see a baby horse so new that its legs were still wobbly as it stood next to its mother. It was covered in a fuzzy coat of dark brown fur and had little puffballs of fluff for a mane and tail.

  “She’s yers, lass,” Devon said proudly.

  “Really?” I exclaimed, fingers still clinging to the wooden stall door. “Can I touch her?”

  “Of course. Stella won’t mind,” he said, referring to the mare that stood passively next to her baby, munching nonchalantly on some hay. Devon opened the stall door, and we walked slowly into the stall.

  I stretched out my hand to the tiny gray muzzle, and she sniffed me experimentally before surrendering to a sneeze that shook her entire fuzzy body. Devon and I both laughed.

  “See, she likes ye already,” he said, seeking to assure me that maybe there was a horse on the planet that could like me. “Stanley’s her sire,” he added.

  No wonder he was so proud of this tiny horse. She was the daughter of his pride and joy and he was giving this prize of a possession to me.

  I ran my fingers through the filly’s fuzzy hair, and her bright eyes followed me, so trustingly. I loved her right away.

  “Thank you, Devon. I love her,” I said sincerely.

  “Yer welcome, lass. I thought that if ye had yer very own horse, right from the beginning that ye might not be sae scared.”

  “That’s a really sweet thought,” I said. I bent down and kissed the filly on her nose, surprised by how gentle and calm she was. “I’ll have to think about what to call you,” I told her, scratching her behind the ears as her big brown eyes continued to follow me inquisitively. I stood up and hugged Devon again. This was the sweetest gift that I had ever received.

  “I’m bound and determined tae make a horseman out of ye still,” Devon chuckled into my hair as we left the stable and walked hand and hand out into the early morning sunshine.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Denial is a cruel trick that your mind plays on you. My case of denial allowed me to almost forget about Katherine Berkshire, almost fuse her together with myself so that in a way, I became her. I was so wrapped up in my happiness with Devon, delighted in the joy and the comfort that his love brought me, that I was almost able to forget, or rather repress the fact that I was living amidst a dangerous web of lies.

  A month passed and I knew that I could not reside in this bubble of peaceful happiness for much longer. With the dawning of each morning, the knot of unease building in my stomach grew. I tried to lose myself in the daily rhythm of the keep. I delighted in the happiness of my marriage and make love to my husband as often as possible. But still, the knot in my stomach grew and I knew that it was only a matter of time before the truth would force its way to the surface.

  As it happened, Collin was the one who brought the truth forward.

  Milly found me in the solar, curled comfortably in a chair before the fire, finally getting around to reading Collin’s book.

  “The Laird would like to speak with ye, mistress,” she said, rapping quietly at the door to announce her presence.

  There was an instinctual tightening in my stomach that I could not deny as I closed the book and rose from my chair. I knew that I had been discovered.

  “Is he in his study?” I asked, exhaling slowly to compose my thoughts. I dreaded entering what I considered to be his lair.

  “Yes, and he said not to dally,” Milly said, eyes downcast.

  I trudged up the stairs and made my way down the dark stone corridor towards Collin’s study. The door was ajar, and I knocked quietly before entering, not waiting for his permission to enter the small room. The knot had grown again in the pit of my stomach, and it was a challenge to suppress my nervousness as I stepped into the room and saw Collin sitting behind his massive desk.

  “Milly said that you wanted to speak with me,” I stated, standing rigidly in front of Collin’s desk. I refused to let him know that I was nervous. I knew that this would make him feel all the more powerful.

  “Aye,” he nodded, and set down the papers that he had been reading. His green eyes met mine, and it unnerved me that they were so identical to Devon’s eyes. “I received the official Certificate of Marriage from the church today and I need ye tae sign it sae that I can send it along tae yer father. That is if ye are even aware of how tae sign yer name,” he said with a demeaning tone.

  He doesn’t know! I’m still safe.

  Relief flooded my senses, shrouded me with a cocoon of safety. Collin simply needed me to sign a document.

  He searched through a stack of papers on the desk and produced a very official looking document, written in calligraphy on fine paper with “Certificate of Marriage” boldly scrolled across the top. He shoved the paper towards me along with a quill and a small blue pot of ink.

  My relief evaporated as quickly as it had come.

  Signing this will expose me!

  I looked up over the top of the paper, and noticed that Collin was ignoring me as usual, back to reading his papers. I was thankful for his rudeness now, afraid that he might notice how badly my hand was shaking as I held the certificate.

  “Do ye need help reading it sae ye can tell where to sign?” he asked annoyance heavy in his voice.

  “No, I can read,” I said quietly as I read the document. I noticed that Devon had already signed the paper and I realized that I had never before seen his signature. It matched him perfectly, masculine and strong, standing out boldly against the stark contrast of the fancy calligraphy.r />
  I reached for the quill and dipped it into the small blue pot of ink. I knew that signing this paper was going to blow my cover as Katherine Berkshire. My hand shook as I held the quill, and a drop of ink landed on the paper, marring its perfection.

  This paper would be carried directly to Katherine’s family and I didn’t even know if she had known how to sign her name. If she did in fact know how to write, her parents would recognize immediately that my forgery didn’t match their daughter’s signature. I felt like I was going to vomit and a cold sweat broke out across my body.

  I set the paper down on Collin’s desk and brought the quill down, then stopped abruptly. I didn’t know if Katherine spelled her name with a “K” or with a “C!” My heart raced as I wondered if she used an alternate spelling like “Kathryn?” Terror ran down my spine and I made the split second decision to sign my own name, the way that I spelled it, and hope that it was right. I signed Katherine and exhaled slowly, not having realized that I was holding my breath.

  “Do I sign Berkshire or McClain?” I asked Collin, having never before signed a marriage certificate.

  “Berkshire,” he said tersely, rubbing his temple as if even this small interaction with me was giving him a headache.

  I dipped the quill into the ink again and added “Berkshire” to the document and admittedly, it looked all wrong. I knew that this document, this document that tied me so closely to the man that I loved, would ironically be what exposed me as a fraud. I slid the paper back towards Collin and stood from the chair, knees feeling weak.

  “Is there anything else?” I asked trying to remain composed when every muscle fiber in my body wanted to bolt from the room.

  “Aye, a letter from yer father came with the messenger today,” he said reaching inside of his desk drawer and drawing out a well-worn letter.

  The seal had been broken, evidence of Collin trying to exert his power. Collin wanted to be aware of all communications coming into the McClain castle, never knowing what information might be of use against someone at a later date.