Devil of the Highlands (Devil of the Highlands 1)

Biting her lip, she glanced to his mount and back, and asked. "Was it you I heard in the woods then?"

"Probably," he said with a shrug.

Evelinde scowled at the scare he'd given her. "Well, why the devil did you not just call out and let me know 'twas you rather than following and scaring the devil out of me?"

"Following ye?" His eyebrows rose. "I have no been following ye. I just came upon yer mare on me way back to the castle, then spotted ye in the tree as I reined in. "

Evelinde frowned and glanced back up to where she thought she'd been perched in the tree. She could not see the arrow from the ground but knew it was there. Her gaze then shifted to his mount to see that there was no bow and arrow on the animal. Cullen also wasn't holding one, she noted. Her husband hadn't loosed the arrow. If it had been loosed at all today, she thought. It was wholly possible that the arrow had sat in the tree for years or longer, and the sound she'd heard had been another branch or even a bird's nest falling from one of the upper branches as her climbing shook the tree.

Unfortunately, Evelinde hadn't got a good look at the arrow and couldn't say if it had looked weathered or not. She'd barely realized what it was before releasing it, then had been preoccupied trying not to fall.

"Why are ye in the woods?" Cullen asked.

"I thought to take Lady for a ride," Evelinde answered absently, her gaze now moving around the woods surrounding them, but there was no one there that she could see. Still, she turned to him, and said, "There was an arrow in the tree. "

He shrugged. "There are probably many in these woods, arrows gone astray during a hunt. "

"Aye," Evelinde muttered, but then felt it necessary to add. "I did not notice the arrow ere grabbing it while climbing. "

Cullen smiled faintly. "I am not surprised. Come. "

Evelinde's eyes widened, but she didn't protest when he grabbed Lady's reins in one hand and her arm in the other and urged her over to his mount. He stopped there and released Lady to catch Evelinde by the waist, then paused before applying the pressure necessary to lift her. "How sore are ye still?"

"I am not sore at all. The bruises were mostly healed by the time we reached Donnachaidh. 'Twas mostly my muscles bothering me then, but Biddy's salve and your massage seem to have done the trick," Evelinde admitted, blushing as she recalled what had followed the massage.

Cullen nodded and lifted her onto his mount, then caught Lady's reins again and mounted behind her. Evelinde expected that he'd return them to the castle then, so was somewhat startled when they broke out into a clearing beside a river.

"Ye'll no want to wade here like ye did in England," he announced as he slid off his mount and helped her down. They walked to the riverside and peered at the water.

"Why?" Evelinde asked, her eyes moving over the clear water bubbling past.

"The water runs off the mountains and is cold. "

"Oh," she said, but didn't really mind. The clearing was small and the river narrower than the one at d'Aumesbery. There also was no waterfall here, but it was pretty just the same. It would be a nice spot to relax when she needed a moment to herself.

"Yer no to leave the castle alone in future," Cullen announced, turning her by the shoulders and reaching for the laces of her gown.

Evelinde reached for his hands, unsure what he was doing, but then paused and frowned as she realized what he'd said. She wasn't to come here alone? Seeing her vision of peaceful moments alone slipping away, she forgot about what he was doing and lifted a frown to him to ask, "Why?"

"I like ye," Cullen announced, quickly undoing her laces and beginning to ease her gown off her shoulders.

"I cannot come here alone because you like me?" she asked with confusion, wondering a bit distractedly what he was doing and catching her gown to keep it from slipping off her arms.

"Nay, well aye," he corrected himself. "Ye canna come here alone because 'tis no safe… and I like ye," he added, giving up on her gown and raising his hands to begin unpinning her hair from the bun she'd place it in on the back of her head that morning.

"Why is it not safe? And what are you doing?" Evelinde asked, trying to swat his hands away from her hair.

"I like ye," he repeated.

Evelinde opened her mouth, then closed it again as his words sank in. He liked her. Her husband liked her. Well, that was just… She didn't know how to feel or even what to think. And then his hands returned to trying to remove her gown, and she repeated, "What are you doing?"

"I like ye," was all he said, and it reminded her of his repeating that he was the Duncan the first day they'd met. She hadn't understood what he'd meant then and no better understood him now. Obviously 'I like ye' was some code, but she hadn't a clue for what, then he said, "I've told ye, now I'm going to show ye. Ye said ye wanted both, and so I shall give ye both. "

Evelinde blinked as sudden understanding set in. He meant to—

"Here?" she gasped with amazement.

"Aye. Here, in our bed, on the fur before the fire… There are a lot of places I've imagined showing ye, and now that yer no sore, I can. "

Evelinde's eyes had widened at his words as she realized that while she'd been sitting about fearing he didn't want her at all, he'd been sitting about imagining all these places to—

"You—"

"Wife," Cullen interrupted with a sigh. "Ye may think I speak too little, but ye tend to speak too much. Shut up and let me love ye. "

Evelinde stilled at the order, then gasped as he suddenly gave up on her gown and bent to kiss her.

Shut up and let me love ye. The words rang in her ears, and she sighed as his lips urged hers apart, wishing that it was love. Heir husband liked her and enjoyed bedding her, but she didn't think it was love… not on his part. As for her… Well, in truth, Evelinde was confused about her own feelings. She found the man exasperating, frustrating, considerate, attractive, sweet… and dear God when he kissed her with the hunger he was showing her now, he made her very toes curl. How could a man be so many conflicting things at once, she wondered, then gave up trying to think and slid her arms around his neck.

The man really was a very good kisser, Evelinde acknowledged as excitement began to build in her. She felt his hands return to her gown, but this time did not try to hamper his efforts to remove it, even lowering her arms so he could slide it off. When it dropped to pool around her feet, leaving her in nothing but her chemise, she slid her hands up over his chest, searching blindly for the pin that held his plaid in place. Evelinde managed to poke herself once with the tip as she struggled to undo it but finally got it loose. She sighed into his mouth as his plaid slid away, joining her gown on the ground.

She then broke the kiss long enough to glance down and drop the pin on the plaid before tugging his shirt up to remove it as well. Evelinde had barely removed the garment when Cullen swept her up into his arms, his mouth claiming hers. With him kissing her, she couldn't see where he was heading, but smiled against his mouth when he sat on what she presumed was a boulder or fallen log, settling her sideways in his lap. It reminded her of their first meeting and her regret at the time that she'd had to end their embrace. This time she need not. They were married.

"Yer smiling," Cullen murmured, his lips moving across her cheek.

"Aye. Because I like you, too," she said simply, and he raised his head to peer at her and kissed her again. He was more demanding this time, one hand tangled in her hair, positioning her head where he wanted it as he plundered her mouth. He kissed her until she moaned and arched, kissing him back with an eagerness and hunger that she would have been embarrassed by had she been able to think at that moment.

His hand slid up over her ribs to one breast, and Evelinde gasped encouragement and pressed into the touch as he kneaded the flesh through her chemise. A disappointed groan slid from her mouth into his when his hand slid away, but then she realized that he was tugging impatiently at the collar of her shift, trying to get it out of the way.

Evelinde immediately moved to help him, shimmying free of the shift until it dropped away to pool around her waist. Cullen's hand immediately covered one breast, squeezing briefly before his fingers concentrated on her nipple, plucking and rolling it between his fingers, drawing a deep moan from Evelinde and making her own kisses a little frantic until he lifted his mouth away and dropped his head to catch her nipple between his lips.

Evelinde slid her fingers through his hair and curled them, catching several strands in hand as he caught the nipple gently between his teeth and rasped his tongue over it. It sent pleasure shooting through her and had her wiggling in his lap, her bottom grinding against the hardness she could feel growing there.

This time, when she felt his hand sliding up her leg, she did not break free and tumble from his lap. Instead, Evelinde opened her legs for him, her breathing becoming fast and shallow and her body stilling in his lap in anticipation. When his fingers reached the top of her thighs and brushed gently over the curls there, she gasped and groaned as he began to caress her. Cullen soon had her almost sobbing with need, her body weeping for him as she writhed in his lap.

Only then did he leave off touching her and lift her from his lap. Evelinde was a little confused as to why he'd stopped when he set her on her feet before him, and shivered when he tugged her chemise over her hips to drop to the ground. He then turned her to face him and caught her by the hip with one hand to draw her closer even as the other urged her legs apart.

Evelinde bit her lip and caught at his head for balance, unsure what he was doing, but then his hand slid between her legs again, and he once more began to caress her.

Gasping, she tangled her fingers in his hair as he began to trail kisses across her hip, then held on to keep from tumbling when he suddenly lifted her right leg to rest her foot on the log he sat on. When he then withdrew his hand to clasp her buttocks and leaned forward to press his mouth to where his hand had been, Evelinde cried out in shock and startled pleasure and found it difficult to stay on her feet. In fact, she wasn't sure she would have been able to had his hands not shifted to her hips to steady her as he ministered to her.

While Evelinde found this most enjoyable, some of her pleasure was tempered by guilt as her mind pointed out that while he was giving her pleasure, she was neither touching nor caressing him but simply clutching at his hair desperately as his mouth moved over her. She tried to move away from her husband then and perhaps take the opportunity to kiss and caress him some, but his hold on her was firm, and he held her in place. Redoubling his efforts, he washed the guilt from her mind with his tongue and drove her up onto the toes of the one foot on the ground.

"Cullen," she pleaded, unconsciously pressing his head closer as her body strained for release. She was vaguely aware when one hand left her hip, but was definitely aware when it joined his tongue. Evelinde cried out at the surge that went through her body as she felt his finger slide inside her even as he continued to suckle at the core of her pleasure, then the passion that had been building inside her exploded and Evelinde threw her head back and screamed as her body convulsed.

Only then did Cullen stop what he was doing and release her hip. When he eased her foot back off the log so that she was standing between his legs, Evelinde sank weakly to her knees before him.

Eyes closed, she hugged his knee as he ran a soothing hand through her hair, waiting for her to catch her breath, then her eyes opened and she found herself staring at his erection waving gently before her with his movements. She eyed it curiously, recalling the pleasure she'd felt when they'd consummated the marriage and he'd plunged it into her, and, without thinking, Evelinde reached out to catch it in hand.

Her eyes shot upward when Cullen groaned at the light touch, and she saw that his eyes had closed, and his expression had tightened. Watching his face, Evelinde drew her hand along its length, a sense of power creeping over her as she felt his fingers tighten in her hair and knew he was experiencing a pleasure similar to that he had given her.

Similar, but not the same, Evelinde thought, and leaned forward to press a kiss to the tip of the shaft, watching him as she did. Cullen's eyes shot open at once, and they were now wide with both surprise and what appeared to be hope. It was the hope that made her kiss him again, but curiosity was what made her slip her tongue out to lick the spot she'd kissed. She wanted to taste him and thought it a strange want, so had rather hoped that did she do it quick enough he might not notice the flick of her tongue. However, Cullen did notice, and his reaction was startling. The man bucked his hips, his hold on her hair becoming almost painful in his excitement.

Evelinde thought she must have discovered something then, and licked him again, the movement slower and covering more area. This time, Cullen cried out, his expression becoming almost pained, she noted, and was inspired to take him into her mouth. The man nearly leapt off the log in response and suddenly dragged her off her knees.

"I did it wrong," Evelinde said with both regret and apology as he drew her onto his lap facing him.

"Nay," he growled, reaching between their bodies to grasp himself with one hand as he urged her body up off his legs so that she stood with her legs on either side of his. "Ye did it right. Too right. "

"Then why—?" Evelinde began, but her words ended on a gasp as he urged her back down and slid into her.

"Ye talk too much, wife," Cullen muttered, then his mouth covered hers and he began to urge her to raise and lower herself on him. The moment he had her doing so at a pace he was satisfied with, his hands shifted around to clasp her breasts, squeezing and kneading as he kissed her most thoroughly.

Evelinde was unsure of herself at first, not quite prepared to be in control, but soon found a rhythm and speed she was comfortable with and was just beginning to enjoy it when he suddenly shifted. Pushing himself off the log, Cullen took her with him as he knelt in the grass, then he carried her down to the ground, their bodies still joined at hip and mouth.

When Cullen caught her hands in both of his and pressed them down into the cool grass on either side of her head, holding her there as he thrust into her, Evelinde groaned and arched into the action, her body moving to meet him as he drove them both toward the explosion of pleasure waiting at the end.