Page 22 of Bound to a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #8)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

T iernan sat at the edge of the bed and then stood again, pacing around the room. There was so much pent-up energy inside him, so much fear and anger and frustration at how close Constantine had gotten to Isabeau without him even noticing, that he couldn’t sit still, not even for a minute.

How could he have been so careless? Anything could have happened to Isabeau in those moments he had left her alone and yet he hadn’t even given it a second thought when she had asked him to get them some mulled wine.

I should have kept her by me side the entire time. I cannae let her out o’ me sight again.

And yet, even if they managed to survive all this, what would happen next? They would return to Castle MacGregor and everything would be over.

“Tiernan, why dinnae ye sit?” Isabeau asked as she perched on the bed, patting the spot next to her. “Come. What good is it, wanderin’ around the room like this?”

With a heavy sigh, Tiernan did as he was told, but even as he sat next to her, he couldn’t keep still. His leg kept bouncing nervously and he brought his thumb to his teeth, biting at a bit of roughened skin.

Gently, Isabeau rested her hand on his, pulling it away from his mouth.

“What concerns ye so much?” she asked. “This daesnae change anythin’.”

“He came so close tae ye, Isabeau,” he pointed out, unable to understand how she couldn’t see all the problems that threatened to choke him. She was far too optimistic for her own good and though it was something Tiernan liked, even admired, in her, it was also something he couldn’t handle now that their reality was crashing down on him so suddenly and so cruelly.

“But I’m fine,” she said. “See? Naethin’ wrong with me.”

Tiernan shook his head. Silence stretched between them, heavy with all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“It isnae only that. Ye understand, dae ye nae? Even if everythin’ goes well, even if we get out o’ this alive …”

He couldn’t continue his train of thought. He couldn’t bring himself to face the truth, not when Isabeau was sitting so close to him, warm and solid and real.

“What?” Isabeau asked. “What happens if we come out o’ this alive?”

Tiernan shook his head. The truth settled like lead in his stomach, his fear of the future burning at the back of his throat.

“Tell me,” Isabeau insisted. “Tell me what ye fear will happen.”

Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, Tiernan dared to look at Isabeau, though even it was almost too painful in that moment.

“I love ye,” he told her. “I love ye more than I have ever loved anythin’. More than I ever thought possible. I wish tae marry ye and spend me life with ye.”

With a small smile, Isabeau cupped his cheek, but Tiernan was quick to pull back from her, swallowing around the knot in his throat with great difficulty.

“I love ye too, Tiernan,” she said. “I really dae. And I want tae be with ye. What is so terrible about that?”

“The fact that we cannae be together.”

The words were like glass shards in his throat, but they needed to be spoken, regardless of the pain they caused. Tiernan knew them to be true. They could hope for it, they could pray for it, but in the end, he knew their love was forbidden and he suspected that Isabeau, too, knew it, despite her best efforts to deny it.

Once again, Isabeau reached for him, not letting him pull away this time. “Why dae ye say that? We’re together now, are we nae?”

Instead of trying to pull back this time, Tiernan laid his hand over hers and leaned into her touch, letting his eyes fall shut. “Yer braithers will never accept this. Ye ken this as well as I dae. They’ll never allow us tae be together.”

“Ye dinnae ken me braithers like I dae,” Isabeau said. “They willnae care that ye’re nae noble-born. They’ll only care that ye love me an’ I love ye.”

“I’m nae only a peasant,” Tiernan reminded her, opening his eyes once more to stare into the green of her own. “And I was a brigand, dinnae forget that. I have nay honor. I have nay wealth, nay title, naethin’ I can offer ye. Why would they ever agree?”

“Because we love each other,” Isabeau insisted. “They care more about me than pleasing the council. Lucia was a brigand too, but Alaric wedded her an’ Ewan had nay issues with it. He kent they love each other an’ all he wanted was tae see Alaric happy. Why should it be any different fer us?”

“I’ve done bad things,” Tiernan pointed out.

“So has Lucia,” Isabeau reminded him.

It was true. Although he was the one with the reputation, even if Lucia may have been even more ruthless than him sometimes.

But Isabeau was a woman. She didn’t have the same freedoms as her brothers.

“I dinnae think yer braithers will see it this way.”

“They will listen tae me. And if they dinnae, I dinnae care what me braithers think,” Isabeau said, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Why dae ye? Why should anyone? It’s our life, Tiernan. I willnae let anyone tell me what I can an’ cannae dae.”

As she spoke, Isabeau dragged Tiernan closer, pulling him into a heated kiss. He didn’t have the chance to argue with her any further and the moment their lips touched, he realized he didn’t want to. All he wanted was to lose himself in that kiss, in Isabeau, to let the passion that coursed through them both erase every other thought from his mind.

Perhaps it was wrong. Perhaps he should be insisting on this, trying to make her see reason. But it was so easy to believe her when she promised she didn’t care what anyone else thought. It was so easy to let himself be lulled into a false sense of security, to ignore every warning sign and believe, even for a moment, that what Isabeau was saying could truly happen.

There was a good chance he would be dead soon, after all. He would rather spend his remaining hours thinking that he could have everything he could ever want—Isabeau, a marriage with her, a life with her, children with her. And if, by some miracle, he managed to survive both Constantine and Beag, then perhaps he would also be lucky enough to have this life he dreamed of with her.

For now, his reality could be that he belonged to her and she belonged to him. For now, he could let himself believe it; if nothing else, he could promise her that he would do anything for her. He was prepared to fight for them, just as he was prepared to fight for his life, just so that he could share it with Isabeau.

With gentle hands, Tiernan pulled Isabeau on top of him as he lay down on the bed, comforted by her presence, the solid heat of her body even through her clothes. He knew he could never tire of this; there was nothing like having her in his arms, knowing that a creature as pure and beautiful as her could see the good parts of him when no one else could—when even Tiernan himself couldn’t. Isabeau was the one thing in his life that made him want to keep on living. Not only. She also made him want to become a better man. She deserved someone good, someone who wasn’t defined by his past. She deserved someone better than him, and he was determined to become that man for her.

Isabeau’s lips were soft and warm, plump against his. He loved kissing her, loved feeling her tremble in his hands, as though the pleasure from such a simple act was too much for her to bear. He loved how responsive she was in his hands, the soft sounds she made against his lips, the subtle twitch of her hips as she tried—and failed—to control herself.

“I love ye,” he told her, mumbling against her lips. “I adore ye, mo graidh .”

Breathing softly against him, Isabeau pulled back just enough to gaze into his eyes. “I love ye,” she said, and it sounded like a promise.

Slowly, Isabeau began to scatter kisses down his jaw and neck, nibbling over the mark she had already left on his skin. He had the sneaking suspicion that she liked to mark him like this, to make sure that everyone knew he was hers, and if he were honest, Tiernan liked it, too. He had caught a glimpse of himself in the looking-glass earlier in the room and he had marveled at how much it appealed to him, that small reddened mark on his neck. Now that she bit into his skin once more, teeth sinking gently into his flesh, the gesture shot a jolt of pleasure through him, so strong that he couldn’t resist the urge to buck his hips, seeking some kind of friction.

On top of him, Isabeau moved leisurely, taking her time as she explored his body with her lips and her hands. Tiernan could never get enough of this. Each brush of her gentle fingers on his chest and stomach sent a wave of affection crashing through him, her touch driving him mad not only with lust, but also with all the love he held for her. He liked that she took her time, the two of them undressing each other without hurry before they fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, their bodies pressed tightly together as they kissed.

“Can I… can ye tell me…”

Isabeau seemed unable to find the right words or perhaps she was too embarrassed to speak them aloud, her cheeks turning a pretty pink in the dim light of the room. Her gaze fell to his lap, where his manhood was rapidly hardening against his thigh, and though he didn’t want to presume, he thought he knew what it was that Isabeau was asking him.

“Ye can dae as ye please with me,” he assured her. “I’m yers.”

“But ye’ll tell me…”

“I’ll tell ye,” he promised her.

That seemed to calm her a little and she began to kiss down his chest, her tongue darting out to taste his skin every now and then. Tiernan writhed underneath her, the pleasure too much and not enough at the same time. Every fiber of his being wanted him to bury himself inside her, to feel the tight, silky grip of her walls, but at the same time, these gentle, almost hesitant touches were more arousing than anything he had experienced before and he never wanted Isabeau to stop.

When she reached his thighs, her breath ghosted over his length, making him twitch. Isabeau observed him for a moment and Tiernan was about to assure her that she didn’t have to do this, when she gave him a soft, experimental lick at the tip, tasting him for the first time.

Tiernan gasped, his fingers curling into the covers. Isabeau looked up at him through her lashes, those green eyes locking into his own, her dark hair spilling like ink over her shoulders and brushing against his thighs. Tiernan reached for her, gathering the strands in his hand and holding them gently out of her face as she smiled at him, giving him another torturously slow lick, this time from the base to the tip.

Tiernan cursed under his breath, trying his best to keep still. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off or to bring her discomfort, but the more she licked at him, the harder it became to control himself.

“Ye can…. ye can take me in yer mouth,” he said.

Isabeau hummed over him, the vibrations from her lips travelling all the way up his member. He cursed again, taking a deep breath that filled his lungs to the brim just as Isabeau took him in her mouth, sucking gently at the tip, and in an instant, Tiernan was gone.

“Just like that,” he praised her, his hand petting her hair, fingers tangling in the strands. The wet, silky heat of her mouth was almost too much, each drag of her tongue over the tip making his chest heave. “Just like that, me love. Ye dinnae ken the sight ye make, so bonnie… look at ye.”

Tiernan could hardly tear his gaze off her. There was something mesmerizing about her eyes as she stared up at him while she pleasured him, something which kept him captive.

And he never wanted this to end.

Though Isabeau had been nervous even suggesting this at first, now she couldn’t get enough of it. She knew now why Tiernan insisted on pleasuring her time after time again, drawing multiple orgasms from her while he only gazed at her, without seeking his own release.

She loved watching him lose himself in his pleasure. She loved the weight of him on her tongue, the heat of his flesh, the way he writhed every time she dragged her tongue over the underside, teasing a particularly sensitive spot on him.

When he pulled her up, mumbling that he wouldn’t last like this, Isabeau almost whined, but she let him drag her up his body, his thigh settling between hers and giving her some much needed friction. She sighed against his lips as they kissed, her hips rolling slowly over him, her wetness spreading between them. She had long since stopped being self-conscious over it; Tiernan seemed to love it, to seek it even, his hands drawing more and more moisture out of her.

“Come here,” he said, and Isabeau frowned, as she was already close to him. But as Tiernan manhandled her with a pair of strong hands so that her knees were at each side of his head, her core hovering right above his mouth, she let out an embarrassed shriek, trying to get away from him, only for him to grab her hips and still her. “Calm down. Dinnae fash.”

Tiernan was looking at her with such hunger in his gaze, she figured she could trust him.

“Come now… let me taste ye.”

Hesitantly, Isabeau lowered herself to his lips, gasping at the first contact. Like that, she had full control of the pace as Tiernan pressed the flat of his tongue against her folds, letting her drag her core against the soft surface of it any way she pleased. Soon, any and all inhibitions she had disappeared. Tiernan had been right; she did like it. In fact, she loved it.

Reaching for him, Isabeau found his hands to anchor herself, Tiernan giving her the support she needed to grind against him with abandon. Throwing her head back in pleasure, Isabeau couldn’t help but let cry after cry fall from her lips, the sensations so intense, so overwhelming, that she knew it wouldn’t take her long at all to reach her climax once more.

It was as though the more Tiernan touched her, the more sensitive she was to his touch. That day, after being pleasured by him for so long, her orgasms hurtled towards her unbridled, one after the other in quick succession.

But now, Isabeau wanted him inside her once more. He wanted them to reach their peaks at the same time, entwined, becoming one.

Gently, she pulled herself back from him, gasping when she saw how wrecked Tiernan looked once more, his lips slick, his eyes wild and burning with desire.

Moving down his body, Isabeau finally settled in his lap, boldly taking his manhood in her hand and guiding it inside her. Tiernan moaned her name as she sank onto him, taking him deep inside her in one smooth thrust, his hands gripping her hips for dear life as she began to move.

Each roll of her hips pushed Tiernan deeper inside her, his length stretching her walls. Each roll had that sensitive spot over her entrance meeting his groin, the brief touch sending jolt after jolt of pleasure through her. She felt full, entirely consumed by him, not knowing where her body ended and his began, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tiernan’s hands moved up her body, caressing her stomach, the dip of her waist, before finally settling over the swell of her breasts. Isabeau arched into the touch, her desire like flames that licked her heated skin, her need building more and more deeply inside her.

“I’m close,” she told Tiernan and he nodded frantically as he planted his feet on the mattress and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. From that angle, Isabeau could only hold onto him, moaning as he thrust up into her slowly, savoring every drag of him inside her.

The sheer intimacy of their position was enough to bring Isabeau over the edge, and the moment she reached her zenith, she felt Tiernan spill deep inside her, desperately holding her against his body.

Isabeau twitched around him again and again, all her pleasure finally wrung out of her. She all but collapsed against him, and Tiernan held her securely in his arms, stroking her back as they both came down from their orgasms.

Time passed slowly as the two of them lay there, in each other’s arms. Eventually, though, Isabeau knew they’d have to clean up and go to sleep. The following day, they’d have to leave the inn early.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from Tiernan, stretching her arms over her head. Tiernan watched her with a smile, his hand coming to rest on her thigh as he turned to face her.

“We’ll go tae me braithers on the morrow, alright?” she asked. “I dinnae want ye tae fight anyone. Let us let us just go.”

Tiernan nodded, and Isabeau was glad that he wasn’t too stubborn to accept the help. With the MacGregor forces behind them, they would have nothing to fear—not Constantine and certainly not Beag.

Isabeau gave him a quick peck on the lips before she stood and dragged herself to the washbasin, quickly wiping herself clean. As she dressed, Tiernan did the same, and soon they were side by side on the bed once again, sitting there in a comfortable silence.

Then, that bottle Constantine had given her caught Isabeau’s eye and she grinned as she reached for it, handing it to Tiernan to take out the cork. He huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head, but he still reached for it, stabbing the tip of his dagger in the cork to open it.

When he did, he first sniffed at its contents and then took a sip—and then a large gulp.

“Tae yer brothers,” he said, holding up the bottle in a toast before he handed it back to her. “May they have Constantine an’ Beag soilin’ their garments.”

Isabeau couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Tiernan’s less than polite toast, but she still toasted to it, taking a large sip herself.

“Neither o’ them will dare come after ye if ye have the entire MacGregor Clan behind ye,” Isabeau said. “They dinnae have the forces.”

And yet, Beag had somehow managed to get into the castle and take her and Tiernan. But her brothers were bound to have tightened security around the castle after that had happened. She doubted they would let anyone else breach their defenses.

Tiernan seemed to be thinking about the same things, troubled as he looked. But then he shook himself and took another sip from the bottle as if to steel himself.

“Ye’re right,” he said. “They wouldnae dare.”

After drinking some more of the wine, Isabeau went under the covers and Tiernan joined her, pulling her close, his arm draped over her waist. Isabeau settled against him, snuggling into him with a sigh. All she needed to know was that he was there, by her side. She was certain everything else would work out in the end.