Edge of Yesterday (Edge Series Book 1)

by Tarah Scott

  “Now that is better,” a woman said.

  Cailean broke the kiss and yanked his gaze up. He caught sight of the blanket lifting over his cock. Julianna slipped a hand beneath the cover and Cailean jolted when she curled her fingers around him. Raucous laughter filled the room and he heard, “A woman never before touched his cock,” and, “Mayhap she needs a real man to satisfy her.”

  He groaned inwardly. He would never live this down.

  “Put the blanket over your head and get on top of me,” Julianna whispered.

  He looked at her, his mind blank.

  “Once ye have pleasured yourself inside me, they will leave us alone.”

  “That would be pretty damn selfish of me,” he muttered.

  She laughed. “If ye choose to pleasure me while they are here, I cannae stop ye.”

  “What is that ye are saying, Lady Julianna?” a man called. “Are you instructing him on how to please ye?”

  Bloody hell, if he didn’t make love to her—if what he was about to do could be called lovemaking—he would never live down the fact he couldn’t bed his wife on their wedding night. What does it matter, a small voice asked?

  It mattered.

  *

  When Cailean pulled the covers up over them and settled himself between Julianna’s legs, she might have thought him a man climbing the steps to the hangman’s noose. His grim expression gave her pause. Then his hardened cock butted the entrance to her channel. The man was rattled by an audience, but he was all man. She kept her eyes on his face as he gently probed until he slipped inside. She tensed, caught unprepared by the stretching sensation. Walter had been a large man, but Cailean made her feel as if she stretched to the limit.

  “Are ye all right?” Cailean whispered.

  She nodded.

  “I’m hurting you,” he said.

  Julianna shook her head. Nothing could be further from the truth. He felt…good. “All is well,” she said.

  He hesitated, and she feared he would stop. Julianna grasped his buttocks—firm buttocks she noticed with a thrill—and pulled him deeper inside her. She gasped.

  He buried his face in her neck and whispered in her ear, “If I have hurt ye, Julianna…”

  She shook her head and choked back a moan. “‘Tis heaven.”

  He yanked his head up and looked down at her. “Are you certain?”

  She wiggled beneath him. “I will be much happier when you move.”

  He blinked, then his eyes narrowed. “Move, eh?”

  She nodded.

  “As ye wish.” He pulled back and gently thrust.

  Julianna concentrated on the feeling of him inside her. It was very nice. He pulled back and thrust, again slowly, and again slowly, and again. A smacking sound interrupted and he froze.

  “Get on with it, man,” a male voice slurred. “She isnae going to break.”

  Another smack followed, and Cailean flinched. His mouth thinned and he muttered, “I’m sure that’s Lord Sutherland. I’ll find him tomorrow and—”

  Another smack sounded and he drove into her. He began moving again, faster this time. Julianna arched her hips to meet his thrusts. He drew a sharp breath and pumped faster. She wrapped her legs around him and the cover lifted on the side nearest the onlookers. His weight came down heavily upon her for an instant and he yanked the blanket back in place, then levered himself up on his elbows. He lowered his head and kissed her. Butterflies skittered across the insides of her belly. Heaven help her, Walter never made her melt like this.

  Cailean gently parted her lips with his tongue and slipped inside. He sparred with her and she became aware of his thick erection bumping into the back of her channel. Delicious sensations rippled through her. He broke their kiss and slid his mouth along her cheek and down her neck. She shivered when he sucked gently on the sensitive flesh where neck met shoulder. Julianna wrapped her arms around his back. He buried his face in her neck.

  “Christ,” he muttered, and plunged deeper into her.

  He stiffened and she realized he’d found his pleasure. Two more slow, gentle thrusts and he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard.

  He rolled off her and to his feet onto the floor, facing the crowd. “You’ve had your fun, now out with ye, you reprobates, before I kill every one of ye.”

  The guests broke into good-natured laughter and slapped him on the back. A few of the ladies cast covert glances at his cock, which still stood tall and proud, but they left.

  He slammed and barred the door shut behind the last of them and faced her. “I am sorry, Julianna.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  He crossed to the bed and she had to force her gaze to stay on his face.

  He sat on the mattress. “I havenae taken my pleasure before pleasing a woman since I was twenty years old.”

  Julianna laughed. “I am no’ easily embarrassed, and am well-accustomed to the wedding night tradition, but I dinnae think that even I could have forgotten myself enough to climax.”

  His brows rose. “But as a man, I could.”

  She laughed again. “Ye had no choice. If ye didnae perform, they would never have left.”

  He grimaced. “Thank God, then, I was able to do that much.” He regarded her. “Still, we are no’ finished.”

  Warmth spread through her.

  He rose and went to the table where a pitcher of water sat in a bowl. He poured water into the basin, then grabbed a cloth and returned to the bed. When he dipped the rag in the water and wrung it out, she began to suspect what he had in mind.

  “Cailean, ye need not worry about me.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about ye, my lady.” He pulled the blanket back and began washing her thighs.

  “Cailean, really.”

  He paused and shifted his gaze to her face. “Ye did say you don’t embarrass easily.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Ye are trying to see if you can embarrass me.”

  “Nae.” He went back to washing her thighs. “The guests may be gone, but my job isn’t done.”

  A tremor rippled through her at the quiet determination in his voice.

  He carefully slipped the cloth between her legs and parted the folds that covered her sex. The warm, wet rag soothed the slight chaffing. It had been two years since she’d lain with a man. Still, the sensation wasn’t unpleasant. Cailean’s touch closely resembled stroking and her sex tightened as the cloth brushed, then rubbed her. His gaze remained fixed on the apex between her legs. She’d never before had a man’s attention centered on her secret place. Her sex tightened with desire. Heaven help her, did he have any idea what he was doing to her?

  Never mind what he was doing to her. His manhood began to stretch. Aye, he would do quite well. She started at the feel of his finger sliding along her channel. Julianna jerked her gaze onto his fingers. Heat flooded her cheeks. The man was watching as he was… Pleasure rippled through her. Good Lord, he was thrusting his finger inside her and it felt…wonderful.

  A small moan escaped her. His eyes shifted onto her face and he lifted his brows, but his rhythm didn’t falter. She knew she should blush, but she didn’t want him to stop.

  “Ye like that, lass?”

  She could only nod.

  “What about this?” He bent and she felt her eyes widen as his mouth closed over her sex.

  “Holy Mother of God,” she breathed.

  He laughed against her flesh—then flicked his tongue against her nub.

  She’d heard other women talk of a man taking their private part into his mouth, but Walter had never done so with her. She’d wondered if it was as pleasant as they described. It was! She never wanted it to end. He flicked his tongue again and again and again—then he…he suckled her. Julianna felt as if she would explode. He slid his hands beneath her buttocks and pulled her tight against his mouth.

  And she did explode with pleasure, as she’d never before experienced.

  Chapter Twenty

  Julianna slipped down the re
ar stairs and reached the garden unnoticed. She sunk onto the stone bench near the herb beds and turned her face to the morning sun that managed to peek through the clouds. She felt a sense of wonderment, a fluttery lightness inside her. She was well and truly married. Strange, this unexpected marriage to Cailean felt somehow more real than had her marriage to Walter. Perhaps it has something to do with the wedding night. Walter had been considerate. He tried to please her and Julianna believed he loved her—and she had loved him. But she hadn’t realized something was missing.

  The passion.

  The delicious way she shivered each time her Cailean looked at her. How aware she was of him, almost as if her skin tingled and her blood caught fire simply walking beside him. Her heartbeat quickened around him, and deep in her belly she warmed and melted. Aye, as she’d guessed, such was a woman’s need, her craving.

  Or was it more?

  Was it possible to speak of love so early? She had met Cailean but a week ago, yet he’d stirred feelings she hadn’t known existed—and pleasure she hadn’t known possible. Why did the memory of his hands flexing on the back of her neck cause her to flush? And when he touched the sensitive place between her legs—she shivered. Heaven help her, just the thought of him made her want him. Nothing Walter had done to her made her shiver as she had last night.

  “Julianna.”

  Julianna snapped her eyes open at her father’s call. He stood beside the bench. Heat crept up her cheeks.

  “I knew I would find you here.” He sat on the bench beside her. “This has been your favorite place since you were able to walk.” His brow furrowed. “Are ye well?”

  She smiled shyly. “I am.”

  “He treated you well?”

  He had asked the same question with Walter.

  Julianna nodded. “He is kind.”

  “Is that all?”

  Her face heated again. “Is that not enough?”

  “Not if ye can have more.” He looked at her, his gaze going deep. “Are you happy?”

  She nodded. “Aye.”

  “We know nothing of him.”

  Guilt surfaced. “The marriage was my doing.”

  He lifted a brow. “Did ye tie Cailean to your bed?”

  “Nae, but—”

  “No buts,” he cut in. “He is just as culpable as are you.”

  I invited him to my room, seduced him, she added silently.

  “Dinnae blame him, father,” she said.

  He smiled gently. “How could I? Any man in his right mind could not deny you.” He tweaked her nose. “And ye know that.”

  She had no trouble finding suitors, despite the rumors that the Ravenstone family had made a pact with the devil or was cursed. Money—and beauty—overcame many ills.

  “I am sorry,” she said.

  His brows lifted again. “I know ye too well, Julianna.”

  She shook her head. “Nae, father, I would not have him put his life in danger.”

  Her father’s expression darkened. “Crowe overstepped his bounds.”

  The impulse surfaced to tell her father about seeing Crowe in the woods, but she quickly squelched the idea. One devil worshiper accusing another was suicide. Not to mention, he would not be pleased that Lennox kept that information from him.

  “Cailean will work with Lennox training the men.”

  Julianna threw herself into her father’s arms. “Thank you, father,” she said into his shirt.

  *

  “Cailean.”

  At the sound of Lennox’s voice, Cailean turned from the men he watched on the training field. Lennox came up to him and stopped.

  “Come along,” he said. “Ye are to accompany my father and I to Strone Hall. Brodie,” he called, “Cailean is leaving with me.”

  Brodie nodded, then returned his attention to the man he was instructing.

  Cailean and Lennox strode from the field, the clash of steel against steel, and the clatter of spear shafts, fading the farther they moved from the training ground. The morning sun still hung low and pale in the sky, and drifting mist almost obscured the nearby woods.

  The outer courtyard gates came into view. As they passed through them, Lennox nodded at the guardsmen, and they entered the vast walled space where at least fifty men-at-arms sat ready on their horses. Not many other souls were about, though a few lads walked along the inner walls, extinguishing night torches that yet smoked and sputtered. On the far side of the courtyard, two of kitchen women filled pails at the well, and somewhere a dog barked, though Cailean didn’t see the beast. He did spot his new father-in-law. Lord Ravenstone stood near the gate speaking with a warrior. Cailean followed Lennox to two waiting horses.

  The baron turned from the man and said, “Shall we ride?”

  Lennox nodded and vaulted into a saddle and Cailean did the same with the remaining horse. Ravenstone mounted and started out of the gate with Lennox and Cailean at his side. The soft clip-clop of the men’s horses followed and Cailean was startled by the surge of pride he experienced. When he’d ridden down the High Street in Heatheredge, the pride he’d felt had been that of a man who had fulfilled a dream. He’d proven himself a world-class swordsman, and had won many tourneys to prove his worth. This feeling, however, was wholly different. This emotion went deeper. He, Lennox, and Ravenstone, were on their way to ensure the continued safety of Julianna…his wife.

  A strange pang of emotion tightened his chest. His wife. How would he leave her? How could he hurt her? Could he leave her? He startled at the question. He had to leave her. He didn’t belong in this century. And what of Ginny? She had her own life just as he had his, but she loved him and he her. They were the only family they had left. Without him, she was alone.

  Yet with him gone from Heatheredge, that left Julianna vulnerable. Nae. He wouldn’t go until Crowe was dead. Then he would leave and Julianna would find a man of her century, a man who would take care of her the way she should be cared for.

  Who could protect her better than you? a small voice asked. He knew that voice was his own desire to stay disguised as good conscience. A twenty-first century, world-class swordsman was more commonplace in fourteenth century Scotland than one might suppose. After all, these men literally lived and died by the sword. He got that. Yet with him gone, Lady Julianna could marry someone used to her time’s mores and society.

  But would this man love her?

  Love? To even think the word was ridiculous. He’d made physical love to her last night and he was now mistaking lust for love. That was a teenage mistake. And one he wouldn’t make Julianna pay for.

  “Have ye any family back home?” Ravenstone broke the silence.

  Cailean thought of Ginny. “Nae.”

  Lennox shot him a sidelong glance.

  “What brought ye to Heatheredge?” the baron asked.

  Lennox’s gaze remained straight ahead but Cailean knew he remembered him saying he’d come to Heatheredge to see relatives.

  “I was looking for relatives.”

  Ravenstone eyed him. “No family in Cumyrnald, but ye do have family here?”

  Cailean shook his head. “I had hoped, but…” He shrugged.

  This time, Lennox did glance his way.

  Ah well, it didn’t matter if the man suspected him. He wouldn’t be around long enough to convince Lennox to trust him.

  What of Julianna, that same voice asked? You already have her trust…and hear heart.

  “We are your family now,” Lord Ravenstone said.

  Cailean snapped his gaze onto the man. His chest tightened again in that same strange way it had earlier and he found he couldn’t reply. The baron stared. Cailean nodded, then the older man turned his attention forward again.

  They remained silent for most of the long ride to Strone Hall, especially as the road was slippery with mud from recent rains. Thick mist blew across the vast stretch of empty moorland, clearing only as the sun broke through the clouds and, at last, the Strone woods and the tower, high on a steep slope a
bit beyond, came into view.

  As they drew closer, the men on the battlements pointed in their direction and a horn sounded, announcing their approach. The spearmen guarding the closed gate, moved to stand before the entry, the pale sunlight glinting off their helmets and the steel heads of their spears. Clearly untroubled, Ravenstone halted their company just out of arrow range and glanced at his standard bearer, signaling the man with a nod. Cailean watched, fascinated, as the guardsman kicked his horse’s ribs and urged the animal to Julianna’s father. The guardsman handed the huge, long-staffed banner to the baron. Ravenstone seized the pole and spurred forward alone, the banner, a long swath of red linen embroidered with three tall black pines and a raven flying over them, furled out behind him, whipping in the wind.

  “Men of Strone!” he called, his deep voice carrying. “Open your gates. I come alone and would speak with your lord!”

  The spearmen scrambled, making haste to open the gates. In a blur of gleaming armor, plaid, and snapping red-and-black linen, Ravenstone spurred into Strone’s bailey and the gates closed behind him.

  The men retreated to the woods and, a good distance away, near the edge of the trees, Cailean swung down from his horse and lowered himself onto a fallen log beside Lennox. The other men stood, paced, or rested on rocks and logs. The morning sun was higher now and had cleared off the last wisps of drifting mist, but the day remained brisk and damp.

  Lennox drank from a skin, then extended it toward Cailean. He took it, lifted it to his lips, then paused at the strong smell of cider. Lennox lifted a brow and Cailean took a deep swig. The sour liquid went down smoother than it had the first time. Hard to believe he was acquiring a taste for the stuff. He handed the skin back to Lennox. He capped it and set it on the ground beside his boot.

  “If ye hurt my sister, I will kill ye,” he said in a conversational voice.

  Cailean yanked his gaze onto the man. “No’ one for small talk, are ye?”

  “There isnae much more to say.”

  “Ye dinnae trust me,” Cailean said.