Glancing up at the sky, she realized she would not have much time to clean up for the evening meal. And, she mused with a half smile as she stood up and looked herself over, she would need a lot of cleaning up. Avery turned to go back into the keep and nearly walked into Cameron.
"I was just headed in to clean up ere the evening meal is set out,” she said. She wiped her hands on her skirts, only to grimace when she saw that her skirts were not much cleaner than her hands.
"Is there any dirt left in the garden?” Cameron murmured with a grin.
"I was weeding, and since the weeds dinnae grow to e'en my unimpressive height, I have to get down into the dirt."
"Obviously."
"Did ye have something to say, or did ye just come out here to catch me looking my verra worst?"
"Ah, lass, I think ye look adorable."
When he leaned closer and then just frowned as he studied her face, she asked, “Is there something wrong?"
"Nay, I was just trying to find a clean spot to kiss."
"Wretch.” She stepped around him and started toward the keep. “Did ye have something to tell me?"
"Your brother will be arriving come the morning,” he said quietly. He watched her pace briefly falter.
"And will I be taken away at that time?” Avery was pleased with how calm and accepting she sounded as they entered the keep and strode toward the stairs.
"Aye, ye and Gillyanne will leave with what sounds like a verra large troop of Murray men."
"But nay my parents or Gillyanne's?"
"Nay. ‘Twas thought best that Payton come alone. Your brother will enter with only Wee Rob and Colin, and ye and Gillyanne will be sent out to the Murray men."
She paused at the foot of the stairs and finally looked at him. “I should like a few moments to greet and perhaps speak with my brother ere I leave Cairnmoor. I havenae seen him in months, and all things considered, it could be months ere I have another chance to see him."
"Fair enough."
Avery turned to go on up the stairs, only to meet Katherine coming down. The woman leaned back, staring at Avery in horror. Katherine obviously never got dirty, Avery mused, not really surprised.
"Did ye roll your toy about in the mud, Cameron?” Katherine asked.
At her side Avery felt Cameron tense. Before he could speak, she clasped Katherine's face in her hands and, ignoring her gasps of horror, kissed both her cheeks and gave her a big, tight hug. Deciding that she had shared enough of her bounty of dirt, she released the woman.
"Ah, I shall miss ye, Katherine,” she drawled, her eyes widening slightly at the foulness of the curse Katherine spat at her before fleeing back up the stairs. “Tsk, I guess that feeling isnae shared.” She looked at Cameron and found that he was laughing. “I couldnae help myself."
"Ah, lass, if ye werenae still as dirty as a muckworm, I would kiss you. Go and clean up.” He watched her start up the stairs, then asked quietly, “Avery, do ye want to sup with me in my chambers?"
There was only one reason he would want to do that. He wanted to spend their last night together making love, probably as often as possible, probably until they collapsed from utter exhaustion. Avery knew she ought to tell him to go and soak his head.
"Aye. I shall meet ye there in an hour.” She glanced down at herself. “Better make that two."
Avery stood wrapped in the drying cloth and frowned at her chemise. She absently replied to Anne's knock and call at the door, mumbling her invitation to enter. It was going to be her last night with Cameron for a while. Avery did not even try to think the word forever, but it flickered there at the edge of her thoughts. She had to hold fast to some hope of the future, however, or she would spend her last night with Cameron doing little more than weeping all over his fine chest. She did wish she could spend her last night with Cameron dressed in something besides a chemise he had seen more times than she cared to count.
"Nay, not that,” said Anne as she snatched the chemise out of Avery's hands and tossed it onto the bed. “Not for tonight."
"And why might tonight be important?” Avery asked, but she suspected that Anne already knew.
"'Tis your last night here—until ye return—leastwise."
"Such optimism."
Anne ignored that. “And a verra fine meal has been sent to the laird's bedchamber. Candles and fires have been lit. And ye arenae going to be dining in the great hall."
"There is no privacy here."
"Verra little, but I will confess that most of us are especially interested in what happens between ye and our laird.” She smiled when Avery blushed. “We like ye, lass, and think ye would make our laird verra happy.” She held out a nightdress and robe. “So will this."
Avery gasped and tentatively reached out for them. They were more lace than linen, and the linen was very sheer. Both the gown and the robe were a rich golden color and trimmed with black embroidery and lace. They were scandalous, the sort of thing some rich courtesan would wear.
"Where did ye find such shameless finery?” Avery asked.
"Do ye ken how ye hinted to me that Katherine might nay be the sweet-maid-done-wrong she wishes us all to think she is? Weel, I think ye are right.” Anne tossed the gown and the robe on the bed. “Those arenae the night things most chaste maids wear."
"Katherine's? My, my, my! Ye do find the most interesting things in her bedchamber. No mon yet, though, I suppose."
"Sorry, nay. If she has shared her bed with any of the lads here, they are being most careful now that the laird is home.” Anne tugged at the drying cloth Avery had wrapped around herself. “Come along, let us get ye into these."
"I dinnae ken about this, Anne. They are beautiful, but I will feel naked. And, if they are Katherine's, they willnae fit."
"They will,” Anne assured her even as she put the night dress on Avery. “Now, on Katherine, this is probably meant to be verra open on the sides here where it laces. On ye, ‘twill close tight. It doesnae matter if the robe is loose. Ye arenae that much shorter than Katherine, so they shouldnae drag upon the floor too much.” She looked down at the same time Avery did. “Weel, it looks as if it was meant to show off the lass's ankles and feet, too. Shameless."
"Absolutely,” agreed Avery, and she grinned along with Anne. “Oh, verra weel. I will just try to fool myself into thinking that, since I am wearing a nightdress and a robe, I am nay naked. I do wonder what Cameron will think, though."
"Lass, one look at ye in this and, I promise ye, that lad willnae be doing any thinking at all."
Cameron sipped at his wine as he paced his room. He found himself fretting over whether he should have stayed dressed, if wearing nothing but his robe was too presumptuous, if he should stand or sit. It was as if this were to be his and Avery's first time together, yet they had been lovers for weeks.
But never again, not after tonight, he thought, and he had to grab hold of the bedpost to steady himself against a sudden surge of what felt like anxiety. He took a deep drink of wine. The best thing to do was not think about it. If Avery could act as if everything were fine, so could he. And it would be fine, Cameron told himself firmly.
The door between his chambers and Avery's opened and he turned to greet her but nearly choked on the words. She gave him a shy smile as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. Cameron did not know how she could appear shy when wearing such clothes—what little there was of them.
As she stepped closer, the light from the fire and candles revealed just how thin the nightdress and robe were. Every, slender, perfect line of Avery's body was revealed. That he could see her body so clearly even though she was wearing something stirred Cameron's passion more swiftly than anything he had seen before. He was not sure he would have found it as alluring if she had arrived completely naked, although he decided it might not be wise to test that.
"Where did ye get this?” he asked as he reached out to touch the shadow of a nipple and watch it harden.
"Anne brought
it to me.” Avery was not surprised to hear a trace of huskiness in her voice, for the way he stared at her, his eyes sparkling with desire, was rapidly heating her blood.
"I wonder where she found it.” He touched the shadow of her other nipple, smiling faintly when it, too, hardened.
"Ye look disgustingly pleased with yourself when that happens.” She crossed her arms over her tingling breasts.
"And why shouldnae a mon be pleased when his touch warms such a bonny lass?"
She shivered slightly with pleasure. When he spoke in that low, husky tone, his deep voice was like a caress that reached deep inside her. Avery found both delight and dismay in this further evidence of her weakness for the man.
"The lass might be e'en more warmed if the lad offered her a wee bit of the feast laid out before the fire."
He laughed softly and led her to her chair, then hesitated. “Take the robe off, loving,” he said softly.
Avery blushed. “There isnae much under it."
"I ken it. I wish to drive myself mad as we dine."
"A strange wish,” she murmured, but, reminding herself that this was a night to make memories—his and hers—she took off the robe.
Cameron stared at her, from the blush upon her cheeks to her toes, and took a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh, aye. That will do it."
"Why dinnae ye take your robe off, too?"
"Ye wish me to sit there naked?"
"Ye have your wishes and I have mine,” she said as she sat down.
He actually felt shy as he reached for the tie on his robe. It was such an odd feeling that he promptly shed his robe in defiance of it. When he sat down opposite her, he gave himself a brief nod of thanks for spending extra coin to have the chair seats padded. Having the fire built up was not such a bad idea, either, he mused as he started to eat his meal.
There was little said as they ate. Occasionally, they playfully fed each other food. Cameron found it difficult to keep his gaze off her sheer, linen-draped form. He noticed that she eyed him with the same hunger.
"Lass,” he said as he leaned back in his chair to sip at his wine, “the way ye look at me makes me think that being such a hulking, dark devil of a mon isnae such a bad thing."
Avery stood up and walked around the table. “Ah, Cameron, ye are beautiful,” she said as she stood between his long legs. “Such strength"—she smoothed her hands over his broad chest—"such perfection of form. Aye, ye are big and dark, but I find it so lovely, so verra tempting.” She began to kiss her way downward from the hollow in his throat. “Your skin is smooth and warm. What scars ye carry speak of victory and survival.” She knelt before him to kiss and stroke his long legs. “How can a lass nay find such strength beguiling?” She peered up at him as she curled her fingers around his erection. “Even this fine fellow has his own beauty. Long, thick, and delicious,” she whispered, feeling him tremble when she kissed him there.
"Ah, Avery, ‘tis a joy when ye do that for me,” he said as he set his goblet down on the floor. “I wish I could savor it longer ere I have to stop you."
"And ye always stop me,” she murmured against his inner thigh.
The mere thought of her doing otherwise nearly made him groan. “It would disgust ye if I didnae."
"But ye would like it if I continued?"
"Lass, I...” He had to clear his throat before he could continue. “I have never..."
"Never?” she asked as she kissed his hard stomach, intrigued by the thought that she might be able to give him something no other had.
"Never.” He combed his fingers through her hair as she looked up at him. “In truth, that poor wee laddie has ne'er had more than a kiss or two, and that begrudgingly given. I have heard other men say, weel...” he faltered, uncertain of how to finish his sentence without being crude.
"'Tis a night for wishes and dreams fulfilled,” she said, kissing his chest. “A night for shameless gluttony, for blind, sweaty exhaustion. A night for memories to be made and held close."
"Ah, because on the morrow,” his eyes widened slightly when she placed her fingers over his mouth.
"Nay, dinnae speak of it. That truth will direct our every step this night, but let us try to ignore it. Let us just selfishly take what we want, as often as we can. That truth will come with the dawn. Dinnae let it intrude upon this night of dreams, wishes, and memories."
"Wishes and dreams, eh?” he asked, and when she smiled and nodded, he whispered, “Then aye, dinnae stop."
He almost changed his mind when she kissed her way down his body again. If she was disgusted, it could ruin the rest of what could be their last night together. Then he felt her tongue stroke him. He gasped, closed his eyes, and decided that if she said aye, she meant it.
It was more than any man deserved, he thought, as he clutched the arms of his chair and fought for some control. She seemed to know just when to pause to allow him to catch his breath. Just as he thought he might be able to last a goodly while and truly savor this delight, he felt something cool and wet dripped over his heated groin. He looked down to see that she had dribbled honey over him. As she began to meticulously lick him clean, he groaned, closed his eyes again, and gave himself over to the pleasure she was giving him. By the time she ceased toying with him, he was nearly writhing in the chair. He shook all over from the strength of the release she gifted him with, then collapsed in the chair, savoring each lingering flicker of pleasure all the way down to his toes.
When he was finally able to move, he looked down at her. Her head was against his thigh as she idly stroked his leg. The occasional touch of her warm lips against his skin told him that she was not disgusted. He reached out grasped her beneath the arms, and stood her up in front of him. His mind was suddenly full of every dream he had ever had of her, of every little trick of loving he had ever heard of and he was more than eager to try them all.
"Fetch a pillow from the bed, loving,” he said, and he watched her every step. “Ye do look bonny in that,” he murmured as he accepted the pillow she gave him. “But ‘tis time to take it off."
"What is the pillow for?” she asked as he undid the laces on the gown.
"So ye dinnae bruise your back against the arm of the chair.” He tugged the nightdress off her, held her by her slim hips, and looked her over thoroughly. “Ye are so lovely, lass. Ye fair steal my breath away."
She gasped when he lifted her and settled her across his lap. Her back and head were against the pillow he had set against the arm of the chair. Her legs were draped across the other chair arm. A blush heated her cheeks, for she felt too exposed to his gaze—almost vulnerable. That blush deepened when he slid his hand between her thighs and watched himself stroke her.
"Cameron, I dinnae think,” she ended up murmuring against his lips as he gave her a quick, hard kiss to silence her.
"I want to see your pleasure, lass. I want to see it begin, see it grow, see it overwhelm ye."
"Ye see that each time we make love."
"Nay, not truly. A wee glimpse. A moment here and there. But I fear my own pleasure steals the chance to watch yours."
He raised her up slightly and put his mouth to her breasts. As he licked, nibbled, and suckled her until her breasts ached, she began to lose some of her embarrassment. It was not as if he had never seen her naked, she told herself, closing her eyes.
"I want to see every blush,” he murmured, eyeing her damp, hard nipples with satisfaction as he settled her back down. “I want to watch those bonny breasts as your breathing grows quick and hard. I want to see your bonny wee stomach clench as passion grips ye. I have felt those sweet tremors in your thighs when they are clasped about me. Now, I want to see them, too."
The way he was caressing her, the way his scandalous words heated her blood, soon had her relaxing her guard, welcoming his touch. Then he moved her legs further apart. “Nay, Cameron,” she started to protest.
"Aye, loving, let me. Remember—dreams and wishes?"
"Dreams and wishes and sh
ameless gluttony,” she whispered.
And modesty had no place in such a night, she decided as she allowed herself only to feel, not think. He took his time, keeping her balanced on the blade's edge for a long time before he granted her release. His hoarse words of delight only enhanced the strength of it. She felt deliciously weak as he lifted her up, turned her to face him, and joined their bodies with one deep thrust. Avery collapsed against his chest, and he held her close for a moment before turning her face up to his.
"I have heard that one can kiss one's way to bliss,” he said, brushing his lips across hers.
"Where do ye hear such things?"
"Men talk."
"Weel, I am nay sure that will work."
"We will just have to try it and see."
They did, and it did. When Avery next came to her senses, Cameron was supporting her with one arm and drying her off. She had obviously been too dazed to notice the washing. He wrapped the drying cloth around her and handed her a goblet full of mead. Avery had drunk over half of it before she recalled that mead tended to go to her head very fast.
"Strong drink, that mead,” Cameron said, and he grinned when she nodded, “We seem to be fulfilling only my wishes. Surely ye must have one or two."
"I only thought as far as seeing if I could survive making love all night long."
He gently urged her to drink some more. “That is verra close to one of my wishes, too. Tell me what ye like, then."
She took another drink and mumbled, “I do rather like your kisses."
"Thank ye, but we just did that. Finish the mead,” he ordered gently.
"'Tis making me a wee bit drunk."
"Good. That was my plan. So, tell me what ye like, besides kisses,” he urged softly, kissing her ear.
"But I do really like the kisses."
"So ye said, and, so we did."
"Not those kisses. The other kisses,” she whispered. She frowned at her empty goblet. “I hadnae meant to say that."
"So ye like my kisses?” He started to nudge her back toward the chair. “I am good at that, am I?"
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