Page 19 of The Laird’s Wicked Game (Highland Scandal #2)

Dounarwyse broch, Isle of Mull

Two and a half months later …

“GIVE THAT TO me, ye toad!”

Kylie sprinted out of the broch in pursuit of the bounding Highland Collie, who had swiped the plaid shawl she’d been slinging around her shoulders as she stepped out of the lady’s solar. Storm had then shot down the stairs like a fleeing squirrel. Cursing, Kylie picked up her skirts and followed him.

She’d hoped to catch the dog in the entrance hall below, but a servant had just opened the doors to fetch water from the well.

Storm slipped past the lad and out into the brilliant white of a snowy afternoon.

Kylie slowed as she navigated the slippery steps leading down to the snow-covered barmkin. They were icy and treacherous, and she didn’t fancy taking a tumble. Nonetheless, when she reached the bottom, she trudged toward where Storm bounced and tossed his head, her shawl fluttering behind him like a flag.

“Enough of this game!” she called out in exasperation as the dog darted away whenever she drew close. “That’s my shawl, and ye are slobbering over it!”

But Storm hadn’t finished yet. The snow had fallen thickly three days earlier, and the collie had been lively ever since. His white-tipped tail stood up like a plume as he pranced around the perimeter of the barmkin. Above, the sky was a hard blue, and the air was so cold that her cheeks prickled. Storm didn’t mind the chill though. If anything, it made him friskier. He then darted inside the open granary door.

“I’ve got ye!” Kylie shouted, victorious, as she raced after him and pushed through the narrow gap.

Inside the musty-smelling building, where a glowing lantern hanging from the roof illuminated neatly piled sacks of oats and barley, she came to an abrupt halt.

In the center of the space stood a tall man with a fur mantle about his broad shoulders. A servant stood with the laird, etching marks onto a sanded pine board.

Rae plucked her scarf gently from his dog’s jaws. Meanwhile, Storm sat down meekly at his master’s feet, feigning innocence.

“This is yers, I take it?” The laird raised an eyebrow, his mouth quirking.

“Aye,” she panted. “Yer dog is a menace!”

A grin flowered upon the chieftain’s face, an expression that made her stomach dip as if she were on a high swing. “Aye, he’s a rogue all right.” He glanced at the servant then. “That’s all for now, Muir. I’ll finish up here. ”

The man nodded, cast Kylie an amused grin, and handed Rae the board. He then exited the granary, leaving them alone.

She approached her lover, belly fluttering. Even after four and a half months at Dounarwyse, just the sight of the laird made her feel like a giddy lass. They’d continued their wicked game ever since the beginning of autumn, meeting every Sunday night, for lusty encounters. She’d thought that after a month of trysts, she might begin to tire of the arrangement they’d made—but she’d been wrong.

If anything, each meeting just made her hungrier for him. Waiting for Sunday to arrive made each week feel interminable. It was Saturday now, two days before Yule, and need coiled in her belly. Tomorrow.

Reaching out, she took back her shawl. However, her breathing caught as their hands brushed. It was as if everything was still new between them. When would her craving for him subside?

Likewise, Rae stilled at the contact, his eyes darkening in the soft lantern light.

And then, catching hold of her wrist, he drew her against him, his mouth slanting over hers for a lusty kiss.

It was reckless and foolish, and she should have pushed him away and chastised him, but instead, she stepped into Rae, her lips parting for him.

A groan rumbled through his throat, and his arms went around her. The next thing she knew, he’d twisted her left and walked her back, away from the gap Muir had slipped through and out of sight of the barmkin.

Pressed up against a pile of sacks, Kylie melted against Rae, her hands sliding up his thick gambeson and linking around his neck as she met his kiss wildly .

Lucifer strike her down, she was daft letting herself respond to him like this. Of late, she’d given herself a strict talking to, reminding herself daily of her purpose at Dounarwyse. This was a new start. She had a good life amongst people she respected. Her friendship with Tara had deepened, and she’d developed a strong rapport with the servants here too. Her charges’ behavior had significantly improved as well. With the cold weather, they couldn’t venture out on their walks as often as in the summer, and Kylie had worried Ailean and Lyle would play up. But they hadn’t.

The independence that she had found here sometimes made her feel giddy. No, she wasn’t a lady laird like Liza, and, aye, she worked for the laird of Dounarwyse, but her role gave her a sense of purpose and achievement. Her arrangement with Rae allowed her to explore the urges she’d long quashed, and there was a freedom in that too.

The life she’d built here was too important to put at risk—yet here she was, grinding her breasts and groin against the laird, just yards away from where a servant drew water from the well. She could hear the splash of water and the thud of wood against icy stone.

Rae ripped his mouth from hers then. “God help me,” he whispered, his breath feathering across her ear. “I want ye, lass.”

“And I need ye,” she breathed back. It was difficult to focus, especially when his tongue traced the shell of her ear. She trembled against him, need pulsing between her thighs. “But not here.”

Breathing hard, he drew back, his gaze searing hers. “Meet me upstairs then,” he said, a rasp to his voice. “Wait in the solar, and I shall join ye shortly. ”

Kylie’s pulse started to race, excitement churning in her belly now.

She should remind him of their agreement—that they only ever met on Sunday nights under the cover of darkness and never in the middle of the day. But as their stare drew out, hunger shivering between them, all common sense fled. “Aye,” she replied huskily.

Rae moved back, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as if he was fighting the urge to step close once more, to lift her skirts and plow her right here amongst the sacks of grain.

Breathing shallowly now, Kylie tore her gaze from his, slung her shawl about her shoulders, and turned. She then walked on unsteady legs to the door.

Bathed in sweat, his body quivering as pleasure quickened in his loins, Rae watched Kylie in the looking glass.

She perched upon his lap, her legs spread open across his thighs. He sat on the edge of the bed and had dragged the tall looking glass from the corner of the chamber so that they could watch themselves couple in it.

This had been one position in The Art of Coupling he’d been eager to try for a while. He’d told her early on she could choose the positions, but he couldn’t help himself now. All the same, he’d been shy to suggest it. But when he’d summoned the nerve this afternoon, his lover had agreed without a beat of hesitation .

The light of the blazing hearth a few feet away gleamed on Kylie’s sweat-slick skin and upon the neatly coiled braid that wrapped around the crown of her head. Usually, he unbound her hair before taking her, but this afternoon, there hadn’t been time.

Instead, they’d flown at each other the moment he’d entered the solar and closed the door behind him. Rae had then scooped her up into his arms and carried her through into his bedchamber, where they’d ripped each other’s clothes off.

He’d forced himself to slow down then and had taken the well-thumbed book off the shelf by his bed. Kylie’s mouth had curved as she watched him, her oaken eyes darkening with anticipation.

She loved this game as much as he did.

His lover shuddered then, as his fingers stroked between her spread thighs, and her head dropped back against his shoulder. In response, Rae grazed his teeth along the column of her neck.

“Christ’s blood, ye are glorious,” he ground out, his gaze returning to the looking glass. “Just look at ye.”

Her swollen breasts rose and fell sharply as she lowered her chin and shifted her attention to their reflection. There she was, opened wide for him, her lush body bared. A flush rose to her cheekbones then, and her lips parted as she slowly circled her hips against him, bringing him deeper.

Their gazes met in the looking glass, and held for the barest instant, before hers hurriedly slid away.

It always did at intimate moments .

Rae was no better, he supposed. The idea of looking deep into her eyes while he took her made something inside him quail—for there was an intimacy to the act that flustered him. But whenever he got up the courage to do so, Kylie either closed her eyes or turned her head to one side.

“Plow me, Rae,” she gasped then. “From behind.”

They slid to the floor, and he took her on all fours upon the sheepskin, between the bed and the looking glass. There, he gripped Kylie’s hips and rode her hard.

Meanwhile, she shuddered and groaned, her head hanging between her braced shoulders. “Oh, Jesu,” she gasped, the desperate edge to her voice making heat ignite at the base of his spine. He was close now. She arched her back with each thrust, her arse pushing up against him.

And as he drove into her again, she shattered, a choked cry ripping from her throat. They were making too much noise this afternoon, yet he didn’t care. He could think of nothing except losing himself inside this woman.

At that moment, he caught a glimpse of her face in the looking glass. The flush on her cheeks had spread down her neck now. The ecstasy that suffused her features made something constrict deep in his chest.

Tightening his grip upon her hips, he drew back once more, raising her up. And this time, he looked down at where their bodies met, and where she clutched at him, pink and wet.

The sight was so erotic that his release slammed into him like a battering ram, and he thrust deep one last time. Blood thundered in his ears, and pleasure shot up his spine.

“Kylie!” he choked as his loins spasmed once more and he ground into her. In response, she gave a raw, guttural groan .

They collapsed on the sheepskin, spooned together with Rae still buried to the hilt inside her heat. And for a while, neither of them spoke. He couldn’t have formed a coherent sentence if he tried. Over the past months, their coupling had been passionate, surprising even, but the force of his climaxes still took him by surprise.

Afterward, it felt as if he were drifting amongst the clouds, bathed by sunlight.

Eventually, he roused himself from the torpor that risked sending him to sleep. Reaching up, he stroked the back of his hand over Kylie’s soft cheek. “I got carried away, lass,” he murmured, suddenly concerned that she hadn’t yet said anything. “I didn’t hurt ye, did I?”

“No,” she said, her voice deliciously husky. “That was …” Her voice trailed off, as she searched for the words to describe what they’d just done.

Rae’s lips curved. “Wild?”

She gave a soft, shaky laugh. “Aye.”

They fell silent once more, while he gently stroked the tender skin of her shoulder and flank. She had such a soft, delicious body—one that he’d developed an obsession with. It had become a challenge at mealtimes not to stare at her. Every gesture she made, no matter how innocent, caused his gut to ache with longing. And his rod often stood to attention at the most inconvenient of times.

The truth was that once a week wasn’t enough.

He craved to take her to his bed every night.

Rae didn’t tell Kylie so though, for he didn’t want to alarm her. He was aware his feelings for his lover had grown more intense of late, but he was equally aware of the agreement they’d struck. As such, he kept his thoughts to himself now .

Even so, he wanted more than just her body. They often talked after coupling, and shared most meals together, with his family present, of course. But despite his vow to keep an emotional distance between them, he now wanted to spend time with her, alone—to unravel her secrets and learn her innermost thoughts.

“As it’s Yule, I wish to invite ye to supper with me this eve,” he said, breaking the silence between them once more. “Will ye accept?”

“Just the two of us?” she asked sleepily.

“Aye.” She didn’t answer immediately, and, curse him, his belly tightened in response. Despite that their encounters often blazed hotter than a smith’s forge, Kylie kept her emotions on a tight leash. The woman could be inscrutable, and now was one such occasion.

A pause lengthened between them before she finally replied, “Is that wise, Rae?”

He loosed a sigh before leaning his head forward and skimming his lips over her shoulder. “It’s just supper … nothing that should make anyone suspicious.” He paused then. “And it’s been a while since we shared a meal together alone.”

She shivered, a sigh of her own escaping as his lips trailed up to her neck. Her braided hair made it easy for him to caress her there, and he gently nipped her skin with his teeth. The soft sound she made in the back of her throat then—and the way she sinuously ground herself back against him, causing his rod, still buried inside her, to harden—caused his thoughts to scatter.

“Very well,” she replied, her voice breathy now. “Just one supper can’t hurt.”