“What could happen here, mistress?” he asked softly.
Megan blinked. She’d been talking out loud. She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, God, please forget what I said. I’m upset and worried, and I didn’t mean it.”
“I cannae forget,” he said. “’Twas too intriguing. In fact, I’d like to hear more. A gift, you say?”
“I said to forget it, Campbell,” she snapped. “It’s enough for you to know my husband is running out of options and making the worst possible decisions. He may think he’s made the right one, but I know he hasn’t.”
Campbell pulled at his bottom lip, staring at her while he weighed her words. She’d forgotten what she said. Watching him, waiting for some kind of comment, was torture, and concentrating on his mouth was agonizing. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, kind, and it was thoroughly unexpected.
“I don’t believe you’re giving your husband enough credit here, mistress. I’ve a feeling he’s weighed this decision very carefully. He’s chosen me for a particular reason, and though you and I are not privy to it, it doesnae mean ’tis not a valid thought. In time, we may see the wisdom of it.”
“I can’t imagine what wisdom there could be in what he’s done. You don’t fit here, Campbell. You’re some kind of nightmare I’ve been thrust into. Is there anything I can say to convince you to leave here? I have money. I can provide you with a horse. There will be no pursuit.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and her voice came out so whispery she barely heard it herself. “You cannot stay in this house. Please leave.”
“As generous as your offer is, I must decline.”
“Please reconsider.” When he shook his head, Megan’s bottom lip pushed out. “Why must you decline?”
“’Tis clear you don’t trust me, but I’m to trust you, mistress? A convict and legally bound indenture is practically guaranteed the hangman’s noose if he runs. Am I such a burden on your hospitality you’d be willing to risk my very life?”
Campbell leaned forward, reaching toward her. Before she could think, his long fingers curled over hers, capturing her hand. He had powerful hands, and though he held her tight, his grip was gentle, almost tender.
“I’m not blind either, mistress, and I’m beginning to see the promise of this place.” Just as suddenly as she felt the warmth of his skin envelop her, it was gone, and Campbell sat back in his chair. “So did you wish to perform surgery on me tonight? Or just inspect your husband’s work?”
The man baffled her, and she felt thoroughly off-balance. How could he change topics so often in one conversation? Was he really expecting her to touch him after she’d so stupidly said everything on her mind? What must he think of her? Her own arrogance overwhelmed her. Even now he probably thought what a silly woman she was to even assume something could happen between them. This was a grown man in a precarious situation, and she was a grown woman with marital responsibilities.
If I’m a grown woman, then why does it feel as though I’ve not even lived?
She wanted this nightmare over. A man like Campbell would have her dangling from a precipice every day he lived in her home. She’d so hoped he would take a chance to escape. He seemed the kind of man who would choose flight over captivity, any chance to gain his freedom once again. Heart sinking, she rose to her feet, pulling her basket closer.
“I’ll inspect first.” She offered what she hoped was a smile not as shaky as it felt. “Trevor is filled with good intentions, and a very thorough man, but—”
She gasped when Campbell grabbed the edge of her nightdress and yanked her between his knees. When she caught at his shoulders, he gazed up at her innocently.
“You need to be closer. Some of the splinters were very small, and there may be others. Frankly, your husband isnae much of a surgeon.”
She plucked at the edge of a jagged fragment caught near his eyebrow. She tugged at it quickly, and he yelped. She favored him with her sweetest smile.
“Neither am I, Master Campbell. Now sit still, and I’ll try not to hurt you. Move at all and I can guarantee a painful experience.”
Campbell closed his eyes as she ran her fingertips over his face, seeking tiny slivers and soothing cuts. His face was rough under her fingers, and the masculine feel of it was exciting, so different from the feel of her own skin. Other than Trevor, who was so different from this man, she’d never touched a man so intimately. Campbell seemed to enjoy it because he never moved.
Her fingers lingered on the coarse stubble on his jaw, the hard, jutting bones in his cheek, and the smooth swell of his earlobe. She traced across his eyelids and over the broad expanse of his forehead, sweeping locks of hair from her path. When her thumb swept slowly across his mouth, she realized something had changed. She was no longer treating the man’s injuries. She explored each inch of his face, pushing the boundaries she had already set for herself when she walked through the door.
Her hands stilled, frozen against his face. She realized minutes had passed, and she hadn’t done anything but touch him. Both hands held his face now, her fingers cupping his jaw, and her thumb had been tracing his lips, dipping inside to slide against the wet flesh. Her thumb was damp from the moisture of his mouth. She stared at her hands, pale against the darkness of his skin. When she raised her eyes, he stared at her in a way no man had ever dared look at her before. Even on the dock, when his eyes had been filled with some kind of primitive hunger for the flesh of a woman’s body, his eyes had not held this much need.
What she saw there scared her, but not nearly as much as what she felt inside herself. Her breasts ached painfully. Her private parts had begun to leak, and the muscles inside her throbbed in a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her heart. She hadn’t felt that ache in over a year.
As he stood up, his body slid against hers with an agonizing heat. For one moment he studied her face, his breathing hard and uneven. She saw a tiny flicker of indecision when his glance wavered. As she felt a twinge of disappointment, he yanked her toward him so fast her hands slid behind his neck to cup beneath the heaviness of his bound hair. She rose on her toes without thinking, just as he tucked his head toward hers and covered her mouth with his, bending her head back, his hand moving up her body to keep her still, cradling her tight. He crushed his mouth against hers. She couldn’t draw away. She couldn’t utter a sound of protest. She was so overwhelmed, she let him do whatever he needed to do, because to protest at all would mean losing the thing she wanted most.
His tongue swept between her lips and plundered the inside of her mouth. She nearly swooned and wasn’t at all sure what she was supposed to do. It had been so long since Trevor had kissed her beyond chaste kisses against her lips. This man seemed determined to taste every inch of her mouth. His lips were hard, searching, his tongue sweeping across her lips and back into her mouth, and she could do nothing but surrender to it, but she wanted to do something. When his lips released hers, she refused to let him go. Her tongue snuck between his lips, lightly skimming the inside of his mouth. The sensation amazed her, but when he sucked on her tongue, drawing it deep into his mouth, she released the moan she’d been trying to hold inside.
She moved her hands, and her fingers skimmed against his jaw and across his neck. A groan passed his lips and poured into her mouth. For one moment she thought she’d hurt him, but soon realized the sounds that came from this man had nothing to do with pain. With the sound, his arms tightened, and it didn’t seem possible, but his kiss deepened, became harder, rougher, more demanding and threatened to dissolve her in his arms. Her heart pounded in her chest, and when he pulled her closer, removing the last inch between them, she felt the same frantic rhythm beating inside of him. A thrilling pulse thundered beneath her hip, and a rigid length of hard, determined flesh rose against her. It seemed to be all she could think of.
He released her slowly, and gradually she became aware that his lips placed soft kisses against hers and his mouth dragged across her jaw, down her neck, and moved lower.
“Stop,” she whispered. “Oh, please, stop.”
“I cannae stop.”
His mouth pushed deep into her bodice, searching for bare flesh. He blazed a trail of kisses across her breast, and her legs weakened. His beard scratched her skin in exquisite pain. She’d never felt the raw, masculine scrape on her skin before. His head dipped lower, and his tongue swept over her nipple, pulling it into his mouth and causing a stab of pain deep within her. She gasped and clutched at the length of hair on his back, trying to raise his head.
“Please stop.”
But he didn’t stop. His hands swept lower, pulling her so tight against him. He slid his hands down her thighs, and he lifted her, drawing her legs around his waist. She dropped her head to his shoulder because all thoughts fled from her mind. When his lips locked on the skin of her neck and began to suck, the gentle tug threatened to destroy every bit of resolve she thought she had.
He strode toward the corner, carrying her away from the hearth and into the darkness. His hands tugged at her nightdress, sweeping under it to touch her bare skin. The warmth of his hand shocked her as she lifted higher in his arms. She didn’t know if she tried to escape or grant him more access, but her movement spurred him to move faster. When the hard wall slammed into her back, her head fell back, and his mouth captured hers again. He whispered to her between kisses, but she could not understand anything he said. His words spilled out between shattering breaths, and she felt him vibrating under her hands. Whatever she had unleashed in this man would kill her, and what rose in his breeches would split her in two.
She was suddenly very frightened. She’d lost her reason, her decency, and her willpower. This man stole everything good about her. She’d forgotten every promise she’d ever made because she was consumed with a hunger for a man who should mean nothing to her, a man with a shadowy and dangerous past who could bring nothing but heartache. His beautiful face, his powerful body, and desperate need had awakened something in her better left asleep.
She was married to a man who could not take her body. These feelings should be dead to her. Then why did such a feeling of ecstasy flow through her body now?
The touch of his hands thrilled her. Rough, hard, they slid over her naked flesh with the skill and purpose of a man well versed in the enticements of a woman’s body, touching places that would make her forget everything but what he could give her. She felt the hard prod of his cock under her. It was a gift and could offer all the things she hadn’t had in a very long time—excitement, passion, an answer to all her questions, a chance to discover what kind of woman she really was.
His hand moved beneath her, searching for her warmth, drawing very near the parts of her that belonged to Trevor, that should never belong to another man. His mouth made her dizzy.
He snaked a hand between them and ripped at his breeches, pushing them down. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t stop him. There was nothing she wanted more. She wanted to remember what it was supposed to be, enjoy the things that happened between a man and a woman, but mostly she wanted to know if she was still capable of giving pleasure to a man.
Oh, no, don’t use this man. Don’t let him use you. Stop him. He’ll stop.
It was too late for that. The hard length of him rose under her, naked, hot, still swelling as it touched her flesh. Megan moaned under his mouth, shaking her head, but his whispered words were calming, soothing, and even as his mouth swept fire through her, his voice felt like a cool breeze.
“Shhh, girl, no fears. ’Tis right between us. I can feel it.”
She dropped her head against his, feeling his manhood shift and stir against her. It rubbed across the hot flesh between her legs, spreading moisture, aching to go inside, and she ached to have him. She felt swollen, itchy, needy, desperate.
“Open for me, love. Show me you want this too,” Campbell said.
She tried to find the last bit of decency he hadn’t destroyed with his mouth. “I can’t,” she moaned. “I don’t.”
“Aye, you do,” Campbell said. “I’m what you’ve been waiting for, lass, and I have what you need. Take it.”
“I can’t. You have to stop.”
Even as she said it, her hands plunged into his hair, sweeping through it, snatching the leather strap and dropping it to the floor. She needed to feel the thick strands in her hands, cascading through her fingers. Her mouth covered his because she could not protest, could not stop him, if she kissed him, and oh, she wanted to kiss him. His tongue swept into her mouth as she felt the silken caress of his cock slide toward its haven. She had one moment left to stop him, to stop herself from making a disastrous mistake. The smooth head searched eagerly, and the drops of moisture that clung to the silky tip touched her skin. Her body shifted and opened further to receive him.
She should stop it, push against him, struggle, but she couldn’t. She wanted to feel him, wanted to touch him, wanted everything he had to give. As she surrendered her rational thoughts to the reckless craving boiling her blood, he suddenly yanked her down. His entire length drove into her and buried so deep she felt a spike of pain and groaned with the blinding ache of it.
“Shhh,” he whispered.
The pain was just a flash, and then it was gone. Her flesh swelled to accept him, remembering what she could not. Her muscles clutched tight around the thickness. Her blood, already hot and speeding through her veins with a power she could not control, spiraled and thundered with a fierce, agonizing demand. She locked her legs around him and pulled him tighter. Her inner muscles clenched around the treasure of his body, refusing to let go. It was a gift she would never give back. His cock throbbed within her, pulsing violently against her flesh.
He groaned, a long, agonizing sound that twisted her heart, and pulled his mouth from hers. The whisper against her lips was a harsh, violent gasp. “Christ Jesus. I’m a dead man.”
“He’ll never know.”
“I don’t even care,” Campbell said. “’Tis worth any price. You’re worth any price.”
He burrowed his face into her hair, rubbing, fighting to find the curve of her neck, where he finally settled, trying to calm his ragged breath.
“Christ, you’re going to kill me. ’Tis too much, lass, and ’tis been too damn long.”
He raised his face, searching for her eyes as he thrust into her. She slammed against the wall and had her first conscious thought, suddenly aware of the noises coming from the dark corner. She tensed, and that bestial groan shattered his breathing again. She forgot about noises, so aware of the feel of him inside her, the throbbing that seemed capable of bursting something inside her, and the anguish she saw in his eyes.
He moved slowly, drawing out and sliding back in, and each time something like pain flickered on his face, and his quick indrawn breaths signaled his desperation. She wasn’t sure what to do, but instinctively her muscles clenched around him, wanting to hold him inside.
He shuddered, and his grip on her bottom tightened, until suddenly he gave her a hard tug, burying deep once again, touching something that spread a vicious, burning ache through her pelvis. She cried out, not knowing why, but she wanted to feel it again. Warmth flooded through her as he pumped his fluid into her. His mouth found hers, hard, pressing against her open lips so tight she could not draw a breath. Not that she could have found a breath. She couldn’t believe what she’d just done.
When he pulled his mouth from hers, he pressed soft kisses against her face, talking softly. She had to concentrate and was having more trouble than she could handle.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It wasnae my best work. I tried, but I couldnae stop it. You feel too bloody wonderful. Christ, you’re so beautiful, so warm…The next time I’ll have more control and you’ll—”
“There can’t”—she tipped her head back toward the wall, trying to escape his mouth, trying to find enough air to speak—“be a next time.”
He pressed wet kisses on her neck, and they threatened to steal her thoughts aga
in. At her words, he raised his face to her. His brows drew down as he stared at her. “Of course there will be a next time, lass. There has to be.” He snuggled his face back into her neck. “We’ll not survive without it. There will definitely be a next time, and a time after that, and—”
“No.” She struggled to sound firm, pulling strength from somewhere he couldn’t touch. She rubbed her cheek against his hair, enjoying the texture, the warmth that poured from him. “I can’t let it happen again.”
When she squirmed in his arms, he seemed confused, but he drew away from her, and his cocked slipped from her body. She missed it immediately, like a tiny part of herself had been captured inside of him, but she couldn’t let him see that. He gently lowered her to the ground, but he didn’t move away. His body was still pressed against hers.
“Tell me why,” he said.
“Because I’m married.” She raised a shaky hand and pushed the hair from her face. “It may mean nothing to you, but it has to mean something to me.”
“I know what married means, lass. It only means we have to be careful.”
He lowered his head, clearly meaning to kiss her. If he kissed her again, she’d never be able to walk away from him. His mouth brushed against hers, his tongue trying to slide between her lips. She pushed her hands between them and shoved him as hard as she could.
He dropped his arms, and she sidestepped around him, staggering backward.
“I have to get away from here,” she whispered.
“Stay. Just a moment more.”
He took a step toward her, and Megan backed up, colliding with the table. The teacups rattled, and she reached behind her to snatch one up. She downed it in one swallow and wiped her mouth with a trembling hand.
Her gaze darted frantically. She couldn’t look at him. “I need something stronger. Wine, whiskey, rum, something. My goddamn hands are shaking. I’ve never done anything like that in my life.”
Loving Two Highlanders Page 6
