Cait and the Devil

by Annabel Joseph

  She wouldn’t give it up to him voluntarily, he was sure of that. If she would have, it wouldn’t have to get as ugly as it was going to be. She would fight and he would have to subdue her. Well, that was most of the fun, wasn’t it? It would give him a delicious thrill to see her eyes wild with fear as he choked off her breath. He would make it known without words that she would have to comply, or else. Luckily, women were so easy to overpower, especially for a man of his strength.

  And if she dared try to tell Duncan what he was up to, he would smooth things over and let the little slut know exactly what happened to girls who told. He sighed, stroking himself. His cock twitched at the thought of disciplining the little bitch. That’s what he really wanted to do, hurt the disrespectful little cunt. The way she looked at him sideways with those impertinent eyes. The contemptuous curl to her lips when she refused to smile at him. Oh, he’d like an hour or two alone with her, with some rope, a gag, and a stockwhip. He’d fix it so she never looked a man in the eyes again, much less with that insolent cast to her gaze. The pretty thing must lead his spineless son around by the cock to not know better, to act so disrespectfully to him in front of all his townspeople. One day he’d find a way to mete out discipline to her, since his son didn’t have the nerve.

  For now he’d have to content himself with what he could most easily take, for what he could give her with his hand clamped over her mouth. After he used her front, he thought he might flip her over and use her backside. That would teach her a thing or two about acting disrespectfully towards a man.

  His cock was throbbing now with need. He looked up and down the upper corridor and found himself alone. He crept to her door and slid it open. He eased inside, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. In the moonlight, he saw her bed was empty. Damn. His eyes flew around the small room, but she definitely wasn’t there. He would sit on her bed and wait a few moments for her to return. But she would scream if she saw him. It would be better to wait for her behind the door. He could cover her nose and mouth at the same time until she ceased to struggle, until she didn’t have breath to scream.

  He stroked his cock, imagining the feeling of her small body struggling against him. He stroked it a long while. Too long a while. When a good many minutes had passed he realized she wasn’t returning at all. Little slut, where was she? A midnight rendezvous with a lover? Fucking whore. Or had she decided, this night of all nights, to stay in Duncan’s bed?

  Well, eventually he would get her, he’d find a way. He’d get to her one way or another and she would be so, so sorry when he did.

  * * * * *

  Duncan knew he should have slept, but instead he lay awake gazing down at her. It wasn’t as difficult to bide near her in the night time as he’d thought. It was hard when she had been awake, yes, and available to him. But now, in sleep, she looked far too angelic and sweet to molest.

  He looked at her without agitation and need, now that he was controlled, relaxed...satisfied. He’d taken her mouth again before she crawled into his arms and snuggled into his chest as if she wished to merge with him completely. Her small bones had poked into him, but he hadn’t had the heart to nudge her away. She had so selflessly given him pleasure, and accepted his seed once again in her mouth and her throat without a word of complaint.

  Now those luscious lips were curved in a faint smile. She breathed steadily in and out. Every so often her eyelashes fluttered as if she was dreaming. Her fingertips would tighten against his hard muscles and she would shift even closer again.

  No, it was not so difficult to resist her in the night. Not so difficult while she was sleeping like a hapless kitten in the shelter of his arms. He wondered what it was that made her so averse to being alone. Whatever it was, it had started something between them, and relieved the ache in his cock. Soon he would begin to train her to take him in the other way, in the other passage a woman had that didn’t lead to a child. The idea of plumbing that tight, forbidden channel excited him, but he would be sure to prepare her first so she would be ready for him.

  He had so many things to teach her now, now that he knew she was willing. He would teach her all she needed to know to be his submissive, attentive wife. In return, he would train her to feel unbelievable heights of pleasure without any inhibition or shame. He smiled down at her innocent face in sleep. Just you wait.

  He had no doubt he could take her to those places. She seemed not to have the natural reticence and discomfort with her body that most women had. Perhaps being raised in seclusion with an old woman had its advantages. If no one ever taught you to feel shame, you didn’t know what it was. You didn’t know when your wedded husband was visiting it upon you, or if you did, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t care.

  Yes, he was already thinking about the daring things he was going to do to her. He was certain she would be an apt and willing pupil as long as he treated her with care. Of course, he would still punish her sometimes when she needed it. Or when he wanted it, whichever happened first. He’d have to really put his mind to finding reasons to punish her. The lass had an obedient streak a mile wide.

  * * * * *

  Cait awoke with a start in the dark hours of the morning. She turned and reached for him. Yes, he was still there. She cuddled close to him, as close as she dared without waking him. His rough chest and soothing heat relaxed her. It seemed she’d wanted this forever, to be cradled in his arms. To feel appreciated, valued, wanted. The way he’d gazed at her after she’d pleased him with her mouth made her thrill with happiness and pride.

  But as she slept she had a terrible dream of the old earl, Lord Douglas, and then a haunting vision of a lady in woad blue who’d urged her to protect herself. Protect herself from what? From Lord Douglas? She knew well enough that she needed protection from him. She had no intention of ever being caught by him alone. But it seemed the woman who’d berated her to protect herself had been talking about more than Duncan’s father.

  And the woman had looked exactly like Cait herself.

  She had looked like an older version of Cait, only taller and more willowy, and much more vehement in her manner and tone. What did it mean? The entire dream alarmed her. She pressed her forehead to Duncan’s chest and breathed in his clean, masculine scent. Duncan would protect her. He’d never told her as much in words, but she knew it, had known it with a strange certainty from her earliest moments with him. Even when he’d pushed her away, even the time he’d punished her, she’d known he cared for her well-being, in no small part because of his insistence on her having a guard.

  Now, she would stay shoulder to shoulder with her guard until Lord Douglas was gone. Even then, she would forever more be careful.

  Protect yourself! the woman had implored.

  Who was the woman? Would Duncan be enough to protect her? With that fretful thought, she drifted off to sleep again, too tired now to dream. She woke to the strong light of late morning, disappointed to find herself alone. But of course, he had many important duties to attend to. She stretched, feeling warm and content, when a soft knock sounded and Henna bustled in. Her smile was so wide that Cait giggled in spite of herself.

  “Oh, I see you there, you saucy lass. Did you have a good night, did you, then? I see you did.”

  Cait couldn’t wipe the proud smile from her face. “Yes. Now I’m a true wife to the earl!”

  “I bet you are,” laughed Henna. “And it’s high time. I told you he would be a good husband to you. And did you enjoy becoming a true wife to him?”

  “Yes. It was a quite bit of work, but...there were good parts too.”

  “Quite a bit of work?” Henna crowed in amusement. “Oh, you little sauce. And so now, perhaps, you’ll soon be a mother.”

  Cait’s brows drew together in confusion.

  “Oh...? Yes, perhaps.”

  Henna rolled her eyes.

  “Ya know nothing at all about it, do ya, lass? Well, when your husband plants his seed inside you, that’s how a baby grows. He did plant his
seed inside you, didn’t he?” she added suspiciously.

  Cait blushed, thinking back to the thick, warm liquid she’d swallowed.

  “Yes, he planted his seed in me twice, actually. And then...” Her mind worked over things. “A baby grows in your stomach?” She thought of the pregnant women she’d seen, their waists swollen large. It all suddenly made sense.

  “Yes, that’s exactly how it happens, more or less.” Henna nodded. “Someday we’ll talk about it more. When your own belly starts to grow. Soon enough now I’m sure, now that you’re made a true wife.”

  “Yes, I think a baby will grow very soon, Henna. He said...” She blushed, remembering his words. “He’s going to plant seeds in me every day. So it shouldn’t take long.”

  “Every day!” exclaimed Henna with an indulgent smile. “Well, then! Very good of him, surely. An excellent plan.”

  Chapter Seven

  A child, thought Cait as she sat at dinner. Incredible. She might already be growing a child. The idea of it was so surprising, so delightful, even Lord Douglas’s glowering couldn’t dampen her mood. She loved children. She would love to have one of her own, one that wouldn’t run away from her like the town children did. No, she would be her darling child’s mama. She would never, ever let her child come to harm or feel unwanted or unloved. Best of all, her child would have Duncan for a father. Her child would be half-Duncan, half-Cait.

  The idea of it was just so wonderful. She couldn’t wait to return to his room tonight and talk to him about it. She wondered why he hadn’t mentioned it the night before, told her the reason for the intimate activities they’d done. She would have done anything to please him, but knowing it was to make a baby would have made her that much more eager to do as he asked. She didn’t understand how the things he’d done to her fit into the puzzle, but she liked them way too much to ask questions that might cause him to stop.

  Maybe it was better if she didn’t mention anything about a baby either. She remembered his first wife had died in childbirth. Perhaps the idea of babies and children reminded him of her, and that’s why he’d said nothing about it. She didn’t want to make him sad or bring up painful memories. She decided she shouldn’t mention babies at all, not until he brought it up, or until her belly grew so large it would have to be discussed. She wondered how long it took to grow a baby. She would have to have a long talk with Henna soon.

  “Eat, Caitlyn.” Duncan pointed at the food on the plate she’d barely touched. “You’ll need your strength for later,” he said under his breath.

  She shivered and got goosebumps all over.

  “Yes, sir.”

  She began to eat with a better appetite. After all, it probably took lots of good, healthy food for a baby to grow.

  * * * * *

  Duncan looked over at his wife. He’d missed her terribly all day, and was looking forward to retiring to his bedroom with her as soon as their meal was done. Improving his mood even more was news that a disruption in his father’s lands called him away. He would be leaving early in the morning. Not a moment too soon. Lord Douglas had tired of haranguing him about his wife, choosing instead this evening to grouse over his meal, criticizing the cooks, the servants, and the “worthless wenches” who kept his cup filled. He was an unhappy, bitter old man who had made his childhood a living hell. Good riddance to the devil. He hoped he didn’t return anytime soon. He knew Cait would be pleased to hear he was leaving.

  Cait.

  He needed her soon.

  “Are you finished?” he asked with a soft edge of urgency.

  “You just told me to eat.”

  “Yes, eat, quickly. Eat.” He leaned back, schooling his desire to patience. While he waited he would think about what to teach her tonight, what pleasures to visit on her beautiful body. No, that perhaps wasn’t the best idea, he thought, shifting to accommodate the sudden fullness in his trousers.

  “Are you done yet?” he asked for the second time in a minute.

  Cait slid a sideways look at him. “Yes, I guess I am.”

  Duncan took her by the elbow and lifted her from her chair.

  “Bid my father goodnight.” He barely gave her time to drop a curtsy before he dragged her toward the door. She tripped along as gracefully as she could, trying for all the world to appear as if he wasn’t pulling her off to bed.

  At the door to his room he looked down at her.

  “Will you spend the night again, Cait?”

  “Yes. Of course.” She gazed up at him shyly, squeezing his hand. He opened the door and ushered her inside.

  “Do you remember what I taught you?”

  She nodded and began to remove her gown, her stockings, her underslip until she stood before him unclothed, the moonlight shining on her lovely skin.

  “And why do you undress for me when we’re in this room, Cait?” he prompted in a low voice.

  “Because my body belongs to you, and you can look at it whenever you like.”

  “Yes, Caitlyn, in the privacy of this bedroom. I don’t want you ever showing it to anybody else.”

  “No, my lord. Never.”

  “My name is Duncan.” He ran his fingers over her shoulders and down to the tips of her breasts. “Why do you never call me that?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, then gasped when he pinched her nipples. She leaned close to him, wanting him to hold her. He took her in his arms and kissed her, then whispered against her lips.

  “Do you like it when I touch you that way, Caitlyn?”

  “Whenever you touch me, I like it,” she said, pressing closer to him.

  “Undress me, wife.”

  Caitlyn began to remove his clothes, but she did it so gingerly that he ended up doing most of it himself. She laid his clothes over the chest beside the bed, and he watched her move across the room and back. His cock was twitching to be inside her. Patience, Duncan. Not too fast.

  “Come here,” he said. “Come sit here and tell me what you did today.”

  She sat beside him on the bed and began to relate her day’s activities. As she did, he laid her back and spread her legs, stroking her there, finding her wet and ready for him. No, not there. Not like that. He knelt, and her voice cut off abruptly.

  “Keep talking, Cait. You met Henna in the kitchen...”

  “Yes, I met Henna in the kitchen because she had promised to show me how to dry and press flowers...” Her voice trailed off as she arched her hips against him and moaned.

  “How to dry and press flowers...” he prompted her.

  “Yes...yes...and then...then I went to the garden. I looked for roses. Gordon said I could...oh...”

  She made a pleading noise and his hands tightened on her thighs. “Go on.”

  “And then...then...I returned to the hall to luncheon, which I ate outside the kitchen with Jeremy...and then...oh, Duncan—” she groaned, bucking under his mouth. “Please!”

  With a sigh against her lovely folds, he delved one single finger up inside her slick passage, then another, while he pressed a third slick finger to the other, tighter opening and pressed gently against it. She tensed, but he was slow and gentle.

  “Relax. I’m trying to make you feel good. Does that feel good, Caitlyn?”

  “Duncan...oh...please...”

  “Does it feel good?” he repeated, moving his fingers slowly against her. “Tell me the truth, Cait. Never lie to me.”

  “Yes. Yes, it feels good.”

  “And what did you do after lunch, Caitlyn?”

  “After lunch? Oh, I...I took a walk in town and stopped to talk to the milliner...oh...”

  Again he put his mouth, his lips, his tongue on her, but his fingers never stopped their wicked teasing and probing. He could feel her growing tense.

  “And then?” he asked, nipping at her clit. “What did you talk about with the milliner?”

  “I don’t... I can’t... I don’t remember... I can’t think of it now.”

  “Would you like to come?”
<
br />   “What?” She was writhing under him, straining for release. “What...what does that mean?”

  “I’ll show you.” He licked her, caressing her slick petals with sure strokes of his tongue. At the same time, he thrust his fingers deep inside her, as deeply as he could. She gasped, and then she fell apart.

  “Oh, Duncan!” she cried out, arching up to him, shaking with wonder and pleasure.

  “Yes, Cait, I know.” His fingers and mouth didn’t stop until her orgasm passed and she lay back, limp and satiated. He stroked her black curls, mussed and wild now.

  “Rest a little bit,” he said, “and then it will be your turn to please me.” He stood, stroking his cock, and waited to see if she would balk. But no, she looked at him with...God...admiration. Her face softened into a kind of hopefulness. She wanted him. It took his breath away.

  How many times had Lenore looked on him with hatred, with disgust and revulsion as he approached her? Even the women he’d bedded with coin or because they took pity on him, they’d never looked at him like this. He leaned over her and kissed her, burying his fists in her hair, savoring the taste of her lips. Finally, he broke away from her.

  “I desire you so much,” he whispered against her lips.

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I’ll show you how much.”

  He pulled her up from the bed and without being asked she fell to her knees and waited as he guided his cock to her lips.

  “Open up, yes. You remember. Just like that.”

  He thought it would be easier to find control the second night, but the sight of her lips gripping his cock was as erotic as ever. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back as long as possible. The slick warmth of her mouth, her willing ministrations sent a pulse pounding through his veins to his balls, his thighs. He thrust deeper inside her throat, making her gag.