Page 22 of Claimed by the Ruthless Highlander (Taming the Highland Devils #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

T he following night, Maisie stood before the tall mirror, her chemise falling soft against her frame, the firelight painting her skin in a warm glow. She brushed out her long hair, trying to settle her restless thoughts after a long day of avoiding Caiden.

Just as she reached to snuff the last candle by her bed, the heavy door swung open without warning. She gasped, clutching at the thin fabric, her heart leaping to her throat.

Caiden filled the doorway like a storm, his eyes dark as they swept over her. His gaze roamed from her hair, tumbling loose down her back, to the bare length of her legs that the sheer chemise did little to hide.

Heat rose in Maisie's cheeks, her fingers curling tighter into the cloth as if it might shield her. His silence was worse than words, for it left her trembling under the weight of his stare.

"Ye've nay right to barge in here," Maisie said, her voice unsteady, though she fought to make it sharp. "I'm nae decent for company, as ye plainly see."

Caiden's lips curved in a dangerous half-smile. "Decent or nay, lass, ye'll follow me."

Her mouth fell open, astonishment tangling with fury. "Follow ye? In this? Are ye daft, man? I'm near bare, and ye've the gall to order me about?"

He stepped closer, his boots heavy on the rushes, his eyes never leaving her face though she felt his attention burn along her body. "Ye think I care for such excuses? I told ye, ye'll come. Now."

Maisie's breath hitched, her chest rising against the thin linen as her anger sparked into something far more dangerous. "I'll nae be dragged about like a hound. I said I'll nae go, and I mean it."

His laugh was low, edged with impatience, and yet there was something else in it, something that made her pulse quicken. "Ye've a sharp tongue, lass. Daenae think it'll spare ye."

Maisie lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his stare. "And what if I refuse? Will ye carry me then, like some sack of grain? Ye've nay respect, Caiden. I'll nae be made to look a fool."

His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint sparking within them. "If I must carry ye, I will. Daenae test me, Maisie."

She took a step back, though her heart hammered with a thrill she could not deny. "Ye're a brute. A heartless brute, stormin' into a lady's chamber like this. If ye had a shred of courtesy, ye'd turn around and let me dress."

His gaze softened just enough to unsettle her, though his voice remained steady. "If I turned away, lass, ye'd flee. We both ken it. Ye're safer where I can see ye."

Maisie swallowed hard, her anger warring with the warmth that spread low in her belly at his nearness. "Safer?" she echoed, her voice hushed. "Or trapped?"

Caiden leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear, his tone rough but tinged with something she could not name. "Depends on what ye choose to call it, lass."

Maisie's fingers clutched tighter to her chemise, though her defiance flickered with heat she dared not show. "Ye'll drive me mad, Caiden," she whispered, the words escaping before she could stop them.

His mouth curved, slow and knowing. "Aye, Maisie. And mayhap ye'll drive me mad in turn, which is why we both need to cool off."

"Cool off? I daenae understand," she said.

"Daenae fash, lass," he said with a low chuckle, "nay one'll see ye; the whole keep sleeps." With a swift motion, he stripped his leine from his shoulders and draped it over her, the rough fabric smelling faintly of smoke, heather, and him.

The garment hung heavy upon her, covering even the hem of her thin nightdress. She clutched the collar with her fingers, feeling both comforted and caged in the breadth of him left behind in the cloth.

She watched as Caiden's eyes gleamed with some mischievous secret as he led her out of the castle and down the beach, the moonlight catching on the waves that rolled like silver across the shore. The air was crisp, biting, and the sea whispered like a daring invitation.

He stopped at the water's edge and without a second thought began to undress. Her breath caught as his skin was bared, pale in the moon's glow, strong as stone yet moving with ease. In one careless laugh, he plunged into the dark waves, vanishing beneath with a splash.

Maisie pressed a hand to her lips, heat rising in her cheeks at the sight she had been forbidden all her life to behold. "Saints preserve me," she whispered, turning her face yet stealing another glance.

The water closed over him, and for a moment he was gone. Then he surfaced, hair slicked back, his grin wide and unrestrained, like a boy set free.

"Come in, lass!" he called, his voice echoing over the water. Maisie shook her head fiercely, clutching his leine tighter about herself, though her heart thudded with something wild she could not name.

She had been raised to keep her eyes down, her thoughts guarded, her body untouched by boldness.

Yet here was a man who flung all that to the wind, bare and brazen, as if shame had no place in him.

She told herself it was wicked to stare, but her gaze betrayed her, tracing the lines of muscle and the strength in his shoulders.

Heat flushed through her, mingling with anger at her weakness, anger at the rules she suddenly longed to break.

Perhaps, she thought, the sea itself might wash such treachery away. She drew a breath, and with trembling hands slipped Caiden's leine from her shoulders. The night air rushed over her thin chemise, the fabric clinging already as dew touched the threads.

"If ye laugh at me, Laird McGibb, I'll never forgive ye," she muttered under her breath. Yet she stepped forward, heart leaping, and splashed into the surf.

The water was colder than she imagined, biting against her skin, but it stole her breath in a way that thrilled her. She gasped, then laughed despite herself, flinging wet hair from her eyes.

Caiden swam closer, his strokes strong and sure, his smile softened now that she had joined him.

"That's it, lass," he murmured, "the sea kens nay shame."

Maisie kicked her legs, the chemise swirling about her body, light as mist. Only when Caiden's gaze flicked downward did she realize with horror what the water had done.

The cloth clung near transparent against her, revealing what she would never dare reveal in daylight. Her taut peaks protruding under the fabric.

Her breath caught, and she turned, but before she could swim away, strong hands closed round her waist.

She let out a startled squeak, caught half in outrage, half in something else: lust. His grip was firm, grounding her as the waves lapped about them. Their eyes met, his burning with a fire that unsettled her to her very core.

Maisie gasped as the cool water lapped around her waist, but it was not the sea that stole her breath.

It was Caiden's hand sliding over her hip, firm and claiming, pulling her closer until her body brushed against his.

She felt the heat of his skin even in the cold waves, her heart thundering in her chest as though it might break free.

His touch awakened something deep inside her, a fire she had long denied.

His fingers trailed up her side, grazing her ribs before settling against the curve of her breast, and Maisie trembled at the shock of it.

The thin linen of her chemise clung to her, leaving her utterly exposed beneath his hungry gaze.

When his thumb brushed across her breast, she bit down on a moan, her body arching instinctively toward his hand.

Shame and desire warred within her, but desire held her fast.

She dared to raise her own hand, resting it on the hard plane of his chest, marveling at the slick strength of his muscles beneath her palm.

The steady pound of his heart met her touch, and she traced down to his abdomen, each ridge and hollow sending sparks racing through her veins.

Caiden bent his head, his breath hot against her ear as his hand skimmed down her back, urging her closer.

Her skin tingled everywhere he touched, her body alive as never before.

The waves broke against them, but Maisie no longer felt the chill.

She clutched at him, fingers sliding over his shoulders, her legs brushing his as he held her steady.

Every caress burned deeper, and she surrendered to the fierce rush of passion that consumed her.

For the first time, Maisie knew the freedom of wanting without fear, and it terrified and thrilled her all at once.

Caiden carried her through the surf as if she weighed nothing, the strength of his arms both fierce and gentle. Maisie clung to him, her wet gown clinging to her curves, the saltwater dripping from her hair onto his chest.

When he reached the shore, he spread his leine across the sand with a quick movement, lowering her carefully upon it as though she were treasure. The heat of his body hovered over hers, his breath brushing her lips, and the pounding of her heart matched the steady roar of the waves.

"Ye've driven me half mad, lass," he whispered, his voice rough with hunger. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin as though it were the most precious silk.

She tilted her face into his palm, trembling under the weight of his gaze.

"I cannae stop wantin' ye, Maisie, nay matter how I fight it."

Her lips parted, her breath shallow, as her fingers trailed along the firm lines of his jaw.

"Then daenae fight it," she murmured, her voice husky with longing. The warmth of his skin beneath her touch sent sparks racing through her veins.

He kissed her then, deeply, hungrily. She gasped against his mouth, her body arching into him as his hand slid down her throat, lingering at her collarbone.

The pads of his fingers brushed over her damp gown, tracing the swell of her breast with aching reverence.

She felt herself burn beneath that touch, her pulse wild and desperate for more.

"Sweet heaven, Maisie," he groaned against her lips, his mouth brushing hers between words. "Yer softness is a beautiful thing."

His thumb pressed lightly over the curve of her breast, coaxing a moan from her. He took it in his mouth and kissed and sucked with delicate movements.

Her own hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, unwilling to let him go for even a breath.

"Yer touch is heaven itself, Caiden," she moaned.

"Then I shall touch ye more," he groaned.

His hand slipped down her side, caressing each curve. From the swell of her hip to the delicate bend of her thigh, his fingers traced with reverence, setting her skin aflame beneath the damp fabric.

She shivered, caught between the cool night air and the blazing fire he stirred in her blood. He stroked along the smoothness of her inner thigh, his thumb circling gently, reverently.

She gasped, arching into his touch, desperate for every lingering inch he gave her.

"Let go of yerself, lass. Let me pleasure ye," he moaned.

She didn't know what he meant, until he gently opened her thighs. He pushed the wet linen of her chemise up higher to her waist. Maisie felt vulnerable in the open air, but her body burned for him. No longer did she worry she was too gangly or unbecoming.

The way he looked at her with desire in his eyes was enough to make her forget all of that.

He moved his head between her milky thighs, and her eyes went wide.

"Caiden?" she asked, confused as to what he was doing.

"Oh!" she said as he kissed the soft mound of curls between her legs, and she suddenly understood.

The sensation felt thrilling and dangerous at once. His lips pressed against her, and she found herself pressing her body to him. Her fingers dug into the sand.

"Lass, I've longed to taste ye," he groaned.

She felt his tongue move up and down the folds of her flower and it set a pulsing rhythm in her, but it was not in her heart—it was much lower.

The moment he pressed her rosebud she sat up in shock. "Caiden that is too much. I cannae… it is…"

"Shh, lass, let it flow through ye," he moaned.

She pushed her fingers into his hair and bit her lower lip. She felt the exquisite pleasure as his tongue swirled on her. The pulsing grew and grew. She lay back and wiggled under him as it overtook her.

She could no longer hold on, and in a flash her body went warm and found release. The throbbing rocked through her as she moaned.

"Oh, Caiden. It feels… somethin' is happenin' to me. I cannae stop." Her breathy words were barely heard over the waves crashing on the shore.

She wrapped her long legs around Caiden, and he groaned with lust as he licked at her juices.

"Every inch of ye, I crave," he murmured against her flesh, each word a brand upon her soul.

He kissed slowly up her body until she felt his lips on hers. He hovered above her, his body held there by strong arms.

Her palm pressed against the hard plane of his chest, sliding slowly downward, feeling the heat of him. His muscles shifted beneath her hand, taut and alive, and the sheer strength she felt there made her dizzy with desire.

She trailed lower still, her fingers tracing the ridges of his stomach until her hand wrapped around his hard staff. His breath hitched sharply.

"Maisie," he growled, seizing her hand and bringing it to his lips, pressing a fervent kiss to her knuckles. "I willnae be able to stop if ye do that," he said.

"Then kiss me," she said.

She tugged his face back to hers, her lips catching his in another desperate kiss.

Their mouths moved together, a wild rhythm of need and surrender, and she lost all sense of the world beyond the two of them.

His tongue brushed against hers, tasting of the sea and desire, and she welcomed him, every nerve alive with yearning.

She pulled him down until their bodies pressed flush together, her softness molding to his hard frame. The friction of the wet cloth between them only heightened the torment of wanting, of needing more than closeness alone could give.

Their world narrowed to heat, breath, and touch, the roar of the sea fading until only the pounding of their hearts filled the night. His hands moved endlessly, mapping her body with reverence and urgency, leaving trails of fire wherever he touched.

Her own exploring matched his, her fingers tracing the strong line of his neck, the broad shoulders, the powerful arms that trembled as if holding back his own storm. Each kiss, each caress pulled her further into the abyss of longing she never wished to escape.