Page 15 of Bound to a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #8)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T he way back to the village was long and arduous in the dark. Neither she nor Tiernan were confident enough to navigate the horse through the forest in the darkness, and so they decided to make their way on foot, pulling their horse behind them, until they could get to a proper path.

Everywhere in the woods, roots poked out of the ground, thick and twisting, waiting for a victim’s feet to tangle into them. Isabeau treaded over them carefully, glad that she had the sense to exchange her silk slippers for boots. She remembered that first, arduous walk, the one that had left her sore and limping, and could hardly believe she had ever made it in those shoes.

Now, under her boots, the ground was sometimes firm and sometimes yielding, the soil wet with dew in some parts and solid with rock in others. Her gait was still uneven, her footsteps not as confident as Tiernan’s, who was leaping over roots and landing with grace on the ground, but she liked to think she had made great improvement. Only a week prior, such a trek through the woods would have been her biggest nightmare; now, she couldn’t say that she was enjoying it, but at least she could bear it.

Or so she thought, until one of those cursed roots finally tripped her.

Landing on her hands and knees, Isabeau cursed loudly, perhaps for the first time in her life. It didn’t become a lady like her, but then again, neither did anything else she was doing those days. A sudden, but thankfully brief, jolt of pain shot through her as she scraped her hands on the ground and her knees collided with it with a thud, and she heard, rather than saw, Tiernan rush to her and kneel by her.

“Are ye alright?” he asked. “Damn Constantine… we shouldnae have stayed that long.”

And they wouldn’t have, Isabeau knew, if he hadn’t made Tiernan sharpen that blade.

“It’s alright,” she assured him. In the dark, she couldn’t see how badly scraped her hands or knees were, but as long as the pain was bearable, she didn’t mind. “I’m alright.”

“Are ye certain?”

Under the scant light of the moon, Isabeau saw Tiernan lean closer, his hands searching for hers in the dark. Once he found them, he brought them close to his face, examining them carefully, his palms brushing gently over hers to clean off the dirt and debris.

His touch was warm, tender. His breath was warm on them, too, and Isabeau had the wild idea that he might bring them to his lips and kiss her knuckles, maybe even make his way up her arm, then her neck?—

What am I thinkin’! This is nae time fer this!

And yet, the proximity in the dark was so intoxicating that Isabeau found herself leaning even closer, her chest heaving with every breath she took.

She could see the glint of Tiernan’s eyes, the shape of his lips, the shine of them as his tongue darted out to lick them. Isabeau wondered if he even knew what he was doing, if he was doing it on purpose or if they were both caught in the same lust, both of them unable to act on it.

“Aye,” Isabeau said, and that seemed to break the spell between them. Tiernan cleared his throat and pulled back abruptly, standing and offering her a hand to help her up.

Isabeau took it, dusting herself off. But as they resumed their journey, Tiernan never once left her side, always staying close. His hand was either clasped around hers, helping her over roots and rocks, or it pressed against the small of her back to guide her, those fleeting touches making her shiver every time.

By the time they found the path that led to the village and could climb on the horse once more, all Isabeau wanted was for Tiernan to grab her waist and pull her close, kiss her like he needed her more than he needed air. And when they were finally on the saddle, her situation only worsened. The movement of the horse only served to bring them close together, Tiernan’s chest pressing against her back, his arms closing securely around her. She could feel him everywhere, the heat of his body a stark contrast to the chill of the wind, his body solid and more tempting than the sweetest nectar.

Something hot and demanding coiled deep inside Isabeau, her lust and desire growing with every passing moment. Her core throbbed with need; her thoughts consumed by everything she wanted Tiernan to do to her but she doubted he ever would.

The only thing that kept her a little sane was the cold, keeping her impure thoughts at bay. By the time they made it to their inn, Isabeau’s fingers were frozen stiff by the cold wind that whipped them as they rode back. She was shivering from head to toe and she wanted nothing more other than to get under the covers and hopefully get warm fast.

“I’ll light a fire,” Tiernan said, noticing how cold she was. “Come, grab a blanket. Get warm.”

Isabeau was eager to grab the spare blanket from the chair, wrapping it around her shoulders, but even though it was made of thick wool, it was still quite threadbare, barely helping.

“I didnae realize just how cold I was while we were ridin’,” she said, standing near the fireplace with some impatience as she waited for Tiernan to pile up the wood and light the fire.

“It happens,” Tiernan said. “Ye had other things on yer mind.”

Isabeau was certain Tiernan was talking about Constantine, but he had no idea what, precisely, was on her mind while they were riding, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he would say if he did. Telling him, though, was out of the question.

“I dinnae think I’ll ever get warm again,” Isabeau complained, letting her head fall against the wall with a resigned thud.

Tiernan chuckled, shaking his head at her antics. “Ye’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It might help if ye get under the covers, though.”

Isabeau nodded, deciding it was, indeed, the best course of action. With Tiernan busy with the fire and looking away from her, she turned around and began to fiddle with her clothes. But no matter how much she tried to undo the laces of her tunic, her cold hands refused to cooperate with her.

A curse escaped her, quiet but not quiet enough to keep it from Tiernan. Without turning around from where he was staring at the fireplace to give Isabeau some privacy, he called to her, his tone tinted with mirth.

“Everythin’ alright?”

“I cannae take off me tunic,” she said. “Me fingers… they’re so cold I cannae move them.”

“Shall I help ye?”

Isabeau considered that question. On the one hand, it seemed indecent, having Tiernan help her with her clothes. On the other, not only did she need the help, but she also craved to feel Tiernan’s touch on her, his hands brushing against her skin even if it was simply by accident.

In the end, she settled for a small nod, before she realized Tiernan couldn’t see her.

“Aye,” she said, so softly that she wondered if Tiernan even heard her at all. But then, she heard his footsteps as they approached her only to stop right behind her.

Isabeau could feel the warmth of his body, of his breath on her neck. When he began to untie her tunic, his movements were gentle, his fingers barely touching her at all, and yet her desire coiled deep within her core, demanding her attention. It was impossible to ignore it now that she had had a taste of what could be hers, but at the same time, she didn’t know if this was something she could have. Not only was Tiernan reluctant to even touch her, but a part of her thought he was right. They were not made for each other. They were from different worlds, drawn together by circumstance only to be separated again by the end of their adventure—either by society or by death.

But how can I keep meself away from him? How can I deny how I feel?

But then, just as she was about to give up every hope that she could at least have a night with him, she felt the barest brush of lips on the side of her neck—so soft that at first, she thought she might have imagined it.

But nay… he kissed me. I ken he did.

Isabeau turned around sharply, suddenly coming face to face with Tiernan, so close that their noses brushed together, the scant air between them electrified by their desire. The room around them felt devoid of all oxygen, Isabeau’s breath coming in short pants, shallow and quick and insufficient. Her entire being was surrounded by Tiernan, he was all she could see, all she could feel, and she found herself lost in his eyes, which looked more grey than blue in the dim light of the candles.

She could not look away. It was as though she had been hypnotized, drawn into their depths.

When Tiernan bridged the gap between them and finally kissed her, she was not surprised. She met him with ease, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him close as his lips pressed against hers, pleasure exploding through her entire body at that simple touch.

She couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him completely, to become his just as she craved. If a simple kiss could feel so good, then what would it be like to surrender to him entirely?

When Tiernan pulled back from her, they simply stared at each other in silence. Isabeau could feel Tiernan’s desire like a palpable, living thing between them, as real and solid as he was, and it only served to fuel her own, sending sparks of need through her entire body. This wasn’t enough; it never could be. She was desperate for more, and so she pressed closer with a soft sigh, letting her eyes fall shut.

“Kiss me again,” she whispered.

Even as she thought Tiernan would give her what she wanted, though, he pulled back from her once more, letting her arms fall off his neck, and her stomach dropped.

Did he not want her, after all? Did he not desire her as she desired him?

But no, she couldn’t have been this mistaken; she always knew when a man was interested in her and there was no doubt in her mind that Tiernan wanted her just as much as she wanted him. It was something else that was holding him back, something that had nothing to do with desire.

“I cannae,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Isabeau… I’m nae a good man. Everythin’ I’ve done, it will haunt me forever. An’ ye… ye’re nae like me. Ye’re too good tae be kissin’ a criminal like me.”

So this is what it is about. He doesnae think he’s good enough fer me.

“I bet ye wouldnae say the same tae Alaric,” Isabeau said. “I bet ye had nae issue with him bein’ with Lucia. She was a criminal too. An’ neither o’ ye is a criminal anymore.”

“That’s different,” Tiernan said, just as Isabeau had expected him. Of course, he claimed it was different; it was always different for her in the eyes of the men around her. Her brothers could always do as they pleased, but the moment she deviated from what was expected of her, she was punished for it.

“Aye,” she scoffed. “Because I’m a lass.”

“Because ye’ve been sheltered yer entire life!” Tiernan said. “Alaric kent what he was doin’. He had been out in the world an’ he kent that bein’ with Lucia could be dangerous fer him. Aye, it’s true that it worked out, but he could have just as easily died because o’ it an’ the same goes fer ye. Ye cannae be around me, Isabeau. It isnae good fer ye. I’m nae good fer ye.”

“It’s me own decision tae make!” said Isabeau, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Ye cannae make it fer me. I’ve spent me whole life listenin’ tae others an’ doin’ as they pleased. I’ve spent me whole life without any… any free will! I never could have a choice. What little power I have comes from schemin’ an’ manipulatin’ an’ I am tired o’ it. I dinnae wish tae be the perfect lady everyone expects me tae be. I wish tae make me own mistakes an’ learn from them an’ I dinnae care if I’ll be hurt. Everyone gets hurt! At least I’ll ken it was me own decision!”

Isabeau hadn’t realized that she had been shouting until she felt her throat go hoarse, straining to get the words out. The relief that washed over her at having poured her soul out, though, was unlike anything she had felt before. Her shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her now that she had finally released all this frustration that had been building up inside her for her entire life. She knew that she really didn’t have that much of a say about her future, yet she felt every word that she had uttered deeply. She could have said all this to the council, to her brothers, to her governesses, to everyone who had prepared her for her role as nothing but a wife and a mother to future heirs. Tiernan didn’t deserve to be at the receiving end of her wrath, even if he too was trying to shield her from harm. At least he was doing it out of concern and not because he wanted to use her to his advantage. And yet, the relief she felt was so great that she couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about any of it.

When she met Tiernan’s gaze, she found him staring at her in shock, mouth hanging open, and she could hardly blame him for it. She, too, was shocked by her own reaction, never expecting it to be that strong.

“So, let me make me own mistakes,” she said, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, her hands reaching for him to pull him closer.

When Tiernan kissed her again, Isabeau melted into it, falling right into his arms. His touch was like flames licking her skin, his lips a little rough and chapped from the cold, but gentle and passionate as he deepened the kiss. He wasted no time before he began to undress her, pulling off the rest of her clothes and letting them fall to the floor until she was fully nude, and it was then that Isabeau felt a sudden wave of apprehension, her arms moving on their own accord to cover her body.

No man had seen her like this before. No man had ever gotten so close, and she had never thought anyone but her husband would.

With slow, tender movements, Tiernan moved her arms to her sides, his gaze falling to her body. Isabeau breathed heavily, trembling under this close scrutiny. She couldn’t help but wonder if Tiernan liked what he saw; she had always been tall, with a boyish figure, while the other girls around her were voluptuous and feminine. Tiernan must have been with plenty of such girls, she thought. How could she compare to them when everyone claimed she looked sickly?

But then he fell to his knees before her, looking up at her with something akin to awe. He placed his hands on her shoulders and then dragged his fingers down, caressing her chest and tracing the swell of her breasts in a way that sent shivers down her spine. When he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, a jolt of pleasure shot through her and Isabeau jerked, surprised by it, a soft moan escaping her lips.

“I’ll worship ye like ye deserve,” he told her, his voice barely a whisper but still loud in the silence of the room. His hands closed around her waist as his lips brushed a path down her stomach, his tongue flicking out to taste the soft skin there. “Nae one has ever touched ye here, have they?”

As he spoke, his gaze fell to her mound, his breath ghosting over it. Isabeau could only shake her head, her hands coming to rest on Tiernan’s shoulders, her breath catching in her throat. It felt as though her entire body was on fire, and her feelings went from embarrassment to need. She didn’t know whether to pull away from his terribly intimate touch or to press into it, to give in to what she wanted the most.

At her response, Tiernan moaned as though he was the one close to ruin. The sound reverberated through her body and Isabeau could feel it in her bones, her entire body trembling in Tiernan’s grasp. Then, as he began to scatter kisses over her hipbones, her thighs, taking care to kiss every inch of her save for the place where she wanted him to touch her the most, she could only hold onto him, her fingers tanging in the strands of his dark hair.

Dragging one hand down her torso, Tiernan reached between her legs to gently, teasingly rub at her heated flesh. Isabeau jolted upwards, the touch as foreign as it was pleasurable, her core throbbing with need.

“How does it feel tae be touched fer the first time?” Tiernan asked, his hand idly moving back and forth, as if all he wanted to do was tease her. “Ye’re already drippin’… I bet ye taste so good.”

Isabeau had no words for that. She could only whine softly as she tried to pull him closer, to get him to give her more, anything to stop the unbearable teasing. Tiernan laughed, gazing up at her with a mischievous look in his eyes, his hand circling her to close over the swell of her rear.

When he finally moved to her mound, lips pressing against a spot that sent an overwhelming wave of pleasure through her, Isabeau’s knees almost buckled under her, her trembling legs no longer supporting her. Tiernan was quick to grab her, his other hand closing around her with a moan as he buried himself between her legs and licked at that sensitive spot once, twice, three times, until Isabeau couldn’t hold back her moans anymore. Nothing she had ever experienced could compare to this, to the hot, wet drag of Tiernan’s tongue over her folds, the gentle suction of his lips, the soft touch of his fingers as he reached around her and teased her opening, spreading the wetness that had gathered there. With every touch, with every tender lick, she lost herself more and more in her desire, until she could think about nothing else other than the points of contact between them. Her embarrassment and her hesitation both melted away, giving way to her cresting pleasure.

“Ye dae taste good,” Tiernan said, pulling back for just a moment to look up at her. “Ye taste like heaven. Let go… I wish tae feel ye come apart on me tongue.”

Tiernan gave her no time to even process his words before he dove back in, burying his face between her thighs. His fingers digging into her plush flesh, his mouth pleasuring her relentlessly, Tiernan brought her closer and closer to the edge with every swipe of his tongue. When he dipped the tip just inside her, Isabeau shook with pleasure and it only took a few more flicks of his tongue for her to fall apart in his hands, moaning his name as her orgasm crashed over her.

For a moment, the world seemed to go black, everything else stopping—even time. There was nothing but the warm, tingling sensation that spread from her core all the way to her limbs, pulling her under into a comfortable, pulsing darkness from which she never wanted to escape.

When she returned to her senses, Tiernan was still kissing her—her stomach, her thighs, the top of her mound, any place he could reach from where he was on his knees. Isabeau couldn’t help but watch him, remembering the words he had spoken to her only a short time earlier.

I’ll worship ye like ye deserve.

The knock on the door startled Isabeau out of her daze, though. Within seconds, she had thrown Tiernan aside and herself under the covers, pulling them all the way up to her chin just as the door opened and the innkeeper appeared, grumpy as always.

“I brought ye the blanket ye requested,” he said, all but shoving it into Tiernan’s hands. The man looked at him for a few moments, then glanced at Isabeau, and he instantly seemed to know what it was they had been doing. His scrutiny ignited another fire in her—this time, it wasn’t one of arousal, but rather one of shame as she thought about all the things he must have been imagining about the two of them.

He wouldn’t be off the mark, not by much.

“Thank ye,” said Tiernan stiffly, his tone clearly dismissing. Even so, the man didn’t move for what seemed like eons to Isabeau, simply standing there and staring. By the time he turned around to leave, she had turned a deep shade of red, her entire face burning uncontrollably.

What have I done?

All her life, she had kept herself pure. All her life, she had stayed away from men, never once giving them anything more than morsels of her attention, and now she had allowed Tiernan to pleasure her like this. She had enjoyed it, of course; there was no doubt about that, and yet the shame that followed was so strong that she could hardly stand it. Her stomach tied itself in a knot so tight that nausea gripped her and her head swam with all the thoughts that plagued her now.

Will Tiernan think less of me? Will people find out? Am I forever ruined now, unfit tae wed any man?

She didn’t know what to do or what to say, and so she remained there, silent. When Tiernan undressed and came to lie down next to her in bed, though, gathering her in his arms, she couldn’t make herself believe that what they had done was wrong. The warmth of his body, the solid strength of his arms, everything about him convinced her that allowing this had been right. Even so, the shame still lingered, and she couldn’t face him. She could only curl up next to him, facing the wall as she clung onto the arm that was wrapped around her.

It was only when he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her head that she relaxed a little, lulled into a sense of safety by his presence. Even so, her fears didn’t entirely subside.

“Isabeau,” Tiernan called gently, sitting up a little to take a better look at her. “Are ye alright?”

“Aye,” Isabeau was quick to say, as she didn’t want to worry him. This was for her to confront on her own. “I’m fine.”

“Ye’re lyin’.”

She wasn’t expecting him to call her out like that. In fact, she expected him to accept it as the truth and simply go to sleep, but he was relentless.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he insisted. “Dae ye… regret what happened?”

“Nay!” Isabeau was quick to say, her voice coming out a little too shrill. With a sigh, she turned to look at Tiernan, her heart sinking to her stomach as she tried to find the words to explain how she felt to him. “I… I was always told I must keep meself pure. I was always told I could only give me body tae me husband an’ ye... well, ye’re nae me husband.”

Tiernan froze for a moment before he nodded in understanding. Pulling her closer, he kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek, the kisses feather-light and soft. There wasn’t much he could say to her, Isabeau knew. As much as she didn’t regret this, as much as she still wanted it, she also knew her fears were not senseless.

“An’… an’ I fear ye may think less o’ me,” she said, “fer doin’ this.”

At that, Tiernan pulled back, staring at her in shock. His hand came up to cup her cheek as he lay next to her on the pillow, pressing their foreheads together.

“Never think that,” he told her sternly. “I would never, never think less o’ ye fer lettin’ me bring ye pleasure. I want naethin’ more than tae please ye, Isabeau. I want naethin’ more than tae make ye feel good. An’ if ye must blame someone fer this, then blame me and we can stop it. I’m the one who touched ye. I’m the one who should have held back. I’m the one who doesnae deserve ye.”

Isabeau’s eyes had fallen shut as she listened to Tiernan, but now they shot open as she shook her head. “Nay,” she said firmly. She didn’t even know how Tiernan could say something like that. “I dinnae blame ye. I asked fer this, I wanted it. I want it.”

Smiling softly at her, Tiernan gave her a quick peck on the lips, one that made Isabeau’s heart flutter in her chest more than any passionate kiss they had shared. “Then dinnae blame yerself either,” he told her. “What we did, it isnae a bad thing at all. It’s a beautiful thing. I wish they hadnae made ye feel shame fer lettin’ yerself feel pleasure.”

Isabeau let out a small, humorless chuckle. “Well, the elders are very good at that. Pleasure doesnae become a lady. A lady must show restraint.”

“A lady,” Tiernan said, his hand trailing down her chest and tracing the contours of her breast, drawing a gasp out of her, “should be pleasured well an’ often. An’ she must enjoy herself without shame.”

It was easy to believe Tiernan when he sounded so earnest. He truly wasn’t judging her at all, Isabeau thought, nor did he think any less of her, after all. If anything, he wanted her to give in, to surrender to her pleasure. Everyone else always tried to control her, to limit her, to tell her what was proper and what wasn’t, but Tiernan wasn’t interested in any of that. He simply wanted her to be herself.

And as long as he was there with her, then everything would be fine.