“Well, then, she shall wake. Let me by.”
Henna put her hand on his arm.
“You’ll not take her to that woman. Mother or not, I don’t trust her. I didn’t like the look of her.”
“I assure you I have no intention of that. Let me pass.”
“Why? What will you do to her now? She cried herself to sleep after you sent her away.”
Duncan gathered his last hold on his temper to speak civilly. “Henna, I love you dearly, but I promise if you do not let me pass to my wife at once you will live with regret.”
Henna set her face and stepped aside. “What is it?”
“It cannot wait, Henna. Not any longer. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that.”
“You’ll have her tonight?”
“Yes, right now.”
“In this temper, this agitation? My lord—”
“Henna, I beg you, please. I don’t wish to hurt you in anger,” he said, pushing her from the door.
“Better me than her. You’ve made her cry enough already!”
Their escalating voices roused Cait, who sat up in bed in alarm. Duncan pushed past Henna and lifted Cait from the nest of rumpled bedding, carrying her over to the door between their rooms and kicking it open with a bang.
“My lord—” Henna pleaded.
“Good night, Henna,” said Duncan before slamming the door. He dropped Cait on the bed and began to shed his clothes. She watched for a moment in wary confusion before standing to take off her own clothes. Before she could fall to her knees he took her arm and led her back to the bed.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a whisper. “I’m sorry, Duncan, for whatever I did.”
“Hush.” He lay down next to her on the bed. He traced her arm, looking down at her black curls, her striking pale blue eyes.
Little priestess. It was all explained. No wonder she cast such a spell on him.
She peered up at him nervously. “What can I do to make things better? Tell me. I’m sorry. Earlier tonight—”
He put a finger to her lips. “Hush. Earlier tonight was an eternity ago. You’re forgiven. Now, you must forgive me for being untruthful to you.”
“You were untruthful to me?”
You have no idea how terribly untruthful I’ve been.
“There is another way to...to make a baby come,” he said, “but I...I haven’t wanted to use you that way because...it will hurt the first time.”
He looked down at her to gauge her reaction to his ridiculous excuse. She was not an idiot. She knew as well as he that he hurt her, at least a little, every time he forced her from behind, or made her lay over his lap, or stand against the wall to be punished. She made the obvious assumption, that what he was talking about would hurt even worse.
“I...I...” she stammered bravely.
“It will not hurt as much as you think. It will hurt just a little in the beginning and then it will feel fine. Quite wonderful actually. I’m not sure why I waited so long to show you this.” Perhaps because I was afraid you might die.
“Will it feel good for you too?” she asked, no doubt because of the scowl on his face.
“Yes, dearest, it will feel good for me too.”
“Then why do you look so sad?” She reached up to caress his face, soothing him with her soft, warm touch.
“I just feel anxious. Anxious to get it over with.” He parted her legs, reaching between her thighs to caress her center. How many nights had he lain awake dreaming of this? Even now he was so hard it was painful.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t be mad if you hurt me.”
He couldn’t help but smile as he nuzzled her.
“God forbid I would hurt my precious wife.”
“Oh.” She sighed as he found her sensitive button and pinched it, then stroked it lightly. “That feels good.” She arched against him. It was an invitation he would no longer deny.
He nudged his cock into her slit slowly, feeling its wet welcoming heat.
“Oh, that feels...different,” she breathed.
He sighed, arching over her, sucking her nipples into his mouth gently, then biting just enough to make her gasp. “Oh, please!”
“Please what?” he asked, finding it difficult to speak.
“Please hurt me now. I’m ready,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Oh, it felt good, but she knew something painful was coming. He’d warned her. She just wanted to get it over with. His strong arms cradled her and she knew it was coming. She tensed as he rose up between her legs. He drew her thighs farther apart, positioning herself with a low moan, and then he thrust in her, rough and deep.
She tensed and gasped at the pain of it. Her nails dug into his back, but he didn’t move, he didn’t release her.
“Be easy, Caitlyn. That’s the worst of it.”
She lay very still under him.
“All right? It will start to feel better in a moment.”
“I’m fine,” she said, but she was anything but. He had forced her open with a terrible sharp pain she’d never felt before, as if something had torn. “I think...I think I’m broken.”
He chuckled softly. “I promise you’re not.”
He nuzzled her for a moment, easing in and out of her with shallow, slow movements. To her surprise, it did begin to feel good. Exceptionally good. The sharp, jagged pain of his entrance eased into something much more exciting and deep.
He seemed to sense the moment she relaxed, the moment her sigh signaled the desire for something more. He thrust in her deeply then, to the hilt, cradling her, pulling her closer, closer still. Her bottom was still painful from the punishment she’d had earlier. She felt his fingers grasp her welted buttocks, adding an edge of sharp sensation to the liquid, shapeless pleasure overtaking her, washing over her. He was so close to her, so very close.
This was nothing at all like when he’d taken her with his mouth, not at all the same, and it was strikingly different from when he’d taken her in her bottom. Then, he had been slow, careful, deliberate, bent over her back, taking her with tense and measured strokes. Now, he almost lifted her from the bed with his powerful thrusts, and she arched to take more and more of him. Each time he filled her, exquisite, beautiful sensation warmed her entire pelvis and shot up to her tingling breasts. His lips were buried in her neck, in her hair, next to her ear.
“Oh, Cait, Cait, Cait...” he whispered as he took her. She could only moan in reply. She was so full, so warm, so completely close to him. She could see now how a baby might come of this. There had to be an extra power, an extra potency to this kind of joining. She had never felt something so magically akin to love. “Duncan, please,” she sighed, pulling him closer.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He loved her until she almost sobbed from the arousal that gathered at her core. With a flash of white heat, she came, molten love and lust overtaking her body, and shuddered through a long, glorious orgasm in his arms. He came too, arching over her powerfully and grunting as he emptied his seed inside her. With a long, drawn out sigh, he came to rest.
He collapsed beside her, then stroked her arm and shoulder thoughtfully. Cait looked up at his morose expression in puzzlement. She had greatly enjoyed this joining, even considering the initial pain. It had been a small price to pay for the pleasure that followed, but Duncan looked down at her as if he mourned.
“Are you sad?”
“No.” He forced a smile, with effort, to his face.
She wished she knew why he was so unhappy. Ever since their trip to the lake, ever since she’d written in the sand...
“Duncan, if you wish it, I will never read and write again. If it displeases you... I do not care if I do it or not.”
He shook his head. “Cait, no...I don’t care either. Listen, I wish I could explain... Things are just complicated now. Things grow more complicated by the day. But it’s no fault of yours, I promise you. My happiness does not hinge on whether my
wife can read or write, but on whether or not she is safe.”
“Am I not safe?” she asked. “I stay with my guards, Duncan. I won’t stray into town if you don’t wish me to.”
“You are safe. There is no need to worry if you continue to follow my rules. Now, you must be tired, dearest,” he said. “Close your eyes and sleep.”
“I’m not tired,” she said, but she knew her limp, relaxed body cradled against his said otherwise.
“Oh, aren’t you?” His fingers began to move lazily over her belly. “My little reader. Let’s play a game. I’ll trace letters on your skin, and you tell me what I write.”
“Okay. But what if I am wrong?”
“Then there will be a forfeit to pay. So listen well.”
“Listen? As you trace on my skin?”
“Listen. Concentrate with your body. I won’t repeat any letters,” he warned.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
He began to trace the first letter on her stomach. She shivered at the ticklish sensation.
“Be still,” he said, fighting a smile.
He traced what might have been an X or a K, but Cait thought surely it must be a K. An I, that was easy enough, and then an S and another S. She licked her lips in expectation. He traced an M and then an E.
“What did I spell, wife?”
“Kiss me,” she answered with a shy smile.
“Gladly,” he replied, kissing her soundly. “But tell me now, what did I spell?”
She giggled. “Kiss me.”
“Oh, you are a greedy one.” He sighed, kissing her again, this time more deeply. “But what did I spell?”
“Duncan, you—” she began, but he cut her off with a teasing tsk.
“No, I didn’t spell Duncan. Incorrect. Turn over and receive your penalty.”
With guilty pleasure, she turned her back to him. He landed a glancing blow on one buttock, and then the other.
“You are an unfair master.”
“Perhaps. But you are a naughty pupil. One who sometimes enjoys punishment too much.”
“I think I’m not alone in that,” she commented drily, which earned her another sharp smack.
“All right. Another word.” He kissed and blew warm breath on the small of her back. “This time on a more sensitive area. Surely you’ll feel this with great accuracy.”
“I’m ready,” she said, squirming.
“Don’t try to distract me with your charms, wench,” he laughed. His fingers began to brush over the surface of her rounded buttocks.
Her eyes narrowed. “What...I cannot...”
“I haven’t started yet. Just lie still and let me touch you as I wish.”
“Yes, Duncan.” She relaxed as he caressed her and soon began to probe her intimately.
“Oh... Oh, Duncan...”
“Mmm,” he rumbled, nuzzling her. “Pay attention. You’re distracted, wife.”
“You’re distracting me.” She squeaked as he breached her in both places with his fingers at once.
He drew one finger, wet with her dew, from between her legs and began to write on her left buttock. “Listen,” he whispered.
He drew an O she easily recognized, then a B which she had to concentrate hard to figure out, then an E, and the Y she expected. The M and E she expected too, and she moaned.
“Yes, Duncan. I will. Whatever you wish. What do you wish?”
“Part your legs wider.” He pushed her down to the bed, coming over her back. His teeth closed on the back of her neck as he positioned his cock between her legs. Looking down, she saw the blood that remained from their earlier joining and it made her shiver with desire. She was his now, undeniably, indelibly his. His true wife. If she grew heavy with his child, it would be even more evident. She desperately craved for it to be so.
* * * * *
The next weeks were busy as the town and keep made preparations for winter. Cait tried to stay out of Duncan’s way, although they met as always at night in his bedroom. His lovemaking was as rigorous and thorough as ever. She grew to love the new way he took her, when he held her so close and thrust in her so deeply she thought she would die from the pleasure. When he used her that way, she felt closer to him than ever, although afterward, he often looked back at her with a frown. But she didn’t mind. She was happy and she knew he loved her, and that was her only care.
Cait walked across the sand, having escaped to the beach for the day. She loved the fall air, the cooling temperatures and soothing ocean breezes. The beach was somewhat remote, but her guards let her visit it when she wished. She suspected Duncan might disapprove. She never asked his permission since he might expressly forbid her to go. If he knew how many gowns she’d ruined scurrying down the rocks to reach the small stretch of beach that could be walked upon, he would certainly punish her and forbid her to return.
Today, unfortunately, she had ruined another one. Even more unfortunately, she ran into Duncan and Lord Douglas while returning to the keep to change.
“Well, look here,” Lord Douglas cried. “Princess Ragamuffin is back from her playtime. Really, son, it boggles me that you let your wife comport herself in this fashion. Look at her gown.”
Annoyance at his father warred with true chagrin on Duncan’s face. Cait could see he was displeased.
“Where were you, Caitlyn?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to brush away the worst of the sand and dirt. “I have others. I was just returning to change.”
“I don’t care about the dress,” he said impatiently. He knew she had trunks full. He’d ordered them all for her himself. “Where have you been? On the rocks?”
“Down on the beach,” she admitted. “But Desmond was with me. I didn’t go near the water. Isn’t it okay? I love to walk on the shore.”
She felt so forlorn and ashamed that he might be unhappy with her. She had done something she knew he would disapprove of, and now embarrassed him again in front of his father.
“You may walk on the beach if you wish,” he finally said. “But you must take better care of your belongings. Not every woman is so fortunate to have gowns such as yours.”
“I know.” She bowed to him submissively. “Through your kindness.”
“Yes, through my kindness. You’ll take better care of them or you’ll be punished.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. Lord Douglas watched the whole exchange with narrowed, mocking eyes. Horrible man, she thought. She hoped he would not be around for very long this time.
* * * * *
As Cait made off for the keep with Desmond at her heels, Lord Douglas fell into step beside Duncan.
“I don’t know how you allow such impertinence—”
“Father,” Duncan interrupted, holding up his hand. “She’s my wife. My problem. No concern of yours.”
“And this wife is the one who will bear my family line?”
Duncan snorted. “Family line. Such as it is, when you call me your bastard.”
“Bastard or no, you have been a good son to me and brought much pride to my name with your service to the king. I would not see my grandchildren brought up by an addled woman such as she. They’d be lucky to survive infancy.”
Duncan gritted his teeth. He had no idea why his father disliked Caitlyn so much, except perhaps that he disliked and disapproved of everyone—everyone, that is, except himself.
“Caitlyn will be a fine mother. I’m sure that will shortly be proven out.”
“Shortly? It’s been months since you’ve married and she’s not breeding yet, is she? I sincerely hope not, if she’s scaling over cliffs to cavort on a beach with the blessing of her husband. Alone with those boys you set to guard her.”
“Boys? Desmond and the others are some of my most valued soldiers. He’s young, but he’s responsible and capable, just as the others are.”
“Capable,” laughed Lord Douglas. “I know how capable young men like that are. All the more surprising that you let them accompany your wife alone to these
secluded haunts of hers.”
It was Duncan’s turn to laugh at his father’s outrageous suggestion. To imagine his shy, obedient Cait offering herself to her solemn-faced guards, or to imagine his most trustworthy men betraying the leader they worshipped. It was ludicrous.
“Father, believe me. There is no doubt in my mind that when she finally breeds, the child will be mine.”
“Your mother was a high placed woman who stepped out on her husband.”
“Yes, stepped out on him with you. My guards have more honor,” he muttered under his breath.
Douglas pretended not to hear that cutting remark, although Duncan could sense him ruffling with rage. “Well, she’s your wife. If that’s how you choose to govern her.”
“Yes, she is my wife,” Duncan snapped.
Henna, Edana, even his father had endless opinions on his treatment of her, endless judgments about something that was none of their concern. “She is my wife, my wife, and belongs to none other, so I’ll do as I see fit, father, now and for the rest of my life. I’ll thank you to remember that.”
“As you wish,” said Lord Douglas tersely. “You may do as you wish with your wife.”
* * * * *
You may do as you wish with your wife. Yes, his foolish son could do as he pleased, but Douglas would do as he pleased too. He would have to take the girl and take her soon. Beat her, fuck her, debase her, whatever he could do to her. Seeing her again after several weeks had dampened neither her allure nor his desire.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t just lay hands on her. His son was overly fond of her, that he could tell. He coddled her. She would run to him at once the moment Douglas hurt her. Figuring out how to guarantee her unwilling silence would take planning and guile. No matter. He would put his mind to it. He would figure it out. A man as immoral and depraved as he would have no problem trapping the girl. He would make it work out so she was the one who burned with guilt and self-hatred for what he did to her, even though he would be totally to blame.
Chapter Twelve
That night, upstairs in the bedroom, Cait bared herself for her husband with downcast eyes. A small sound and gesture had her kneeling before the fire in the submissive posture he liked, the posture she often assumed when punished. He took off his thick belt and doubled it over in his palm. He wasn’t in the mood for offering reprimands or stern words. Sometimes he felt like lecturing his wife, but other times he simply felt like disciplining her. This was one of those times.
Cait and the Devil Page 12
