Cait and the Devil

“Are you done yet?” he asked for the second time in a minute.

Cait slid a sideways look at him. “Yes, I guess I am.”

Duncan took her by the elbow and lifted her from her chair.

“Bid my father goodnight.” He barely gave her time to drop a curtsy before he dragged her toward the door. She tripped along as gracefully as she could, trying for all the world to appear as if he wasn’t pulling her off to bed.

At the door to his room he looked down at her.

“Will you spend the night again, Cait?”

“Yes. Of course.” She gazed up at him shyly, squeezing his hand. He opened the door and ushered her inside.

“Do you remember what I taught you?”

She nodded and began to remove her gown, her stockings, her underslip until she stood before him unclothed, the moonlight shining on her lovely skin.

“And why do you undress for me when we’re in this room, Cait?” he prompted in a low voice.

“Because my body belongs to you, and you can look at it whenever you like.”

“Yes, Caitlyn, in the privacy of this bedroom. I don’t want you ever showing it to anybody else.”

“No, my lord. Never.”

“My name is Duncan.” He ran his fingers over her shoulders and down to the tips of her breasts. “Why do you never call me that?”

“I don’t know,” she said, then gasped when he pinched her nipples. She leaned close to him, wanting him to hold her. He took her in his arms and kissed her, then whispered against her lips.

“Do you like it when I touch you that way, Caitlyn?”

“Whenever you touch me, I like it,” she said, pressing closer to him.

“Undress me, wife.”

Caitlyn began to remove his clothes, but she did it so gingerly that he ended up doing most of it himself. She laid his clothes over the chest beside the bed, and he watched her move across the room and back. His cock was twitching to be inside her. Patience, Duncan. Not too fast.

“Come here,” he said. “Come sit here and tell me what you did today.”

She sat beside him on the bed and began to relate her day’s activities. As she did, he laid her back and spread her legs, stroking her there, finding her wet and ready for him. No, not there. Not like that. He knelt, and her voice cut off abruptly.

“Keep talking, Cait. You met Henna in the kitchen...”

“Yes, I met Henna in the kitchen because she had promised to show me how to dry and press flowers...” Her voice trailed off as she arched her hips against him and moaned.

“How to dry and press flowers...” he prompted her.

“Yes...yes...and then...then I went to the garden. I looked for roses. Gordon said I could...oh...”

She made a pleading noise and his hands tightened on her thighs. “Go on.”

“And then...then...I returned to the hall to luncheon, which I ate outside the kitchen with Jeremy...and then...oh, Duncan—” she groaned, bucking under his mouth. “Please!”

With a sigh against her lovely folds, he delved one single finger up inside her slick passage, then another, while he pressed a third slick finger to the other, tighter opening and pressed gently against it. She tensed, but he was slow and gentle.

“Relax. I’m trying to make you feel good. Does that feel good, Caitlyn?”

“Duncan...oh...please...”

“Does it feel good?” he repeated, moving his fingers slowly against her. “Tell me the truth, Cait. Never lie to me.”

“Yes. Yes, it feels good.”

“And what did you do after lunch, Caitlyn?”

“After lunch? Oh, I...I took a walk in town and stopped to talk to the milliner...oh...”

Again he put his mouth, his lips, his tongue on her, but his fingers never stopped their wicked teasing and probing. He could feel her growing tense.

“And then?” he asked, nipping at her clit. “What did you talk about with the milliner?”

“I don’t... I can’t... I don’t remember... I can’t think of it now.”

“Would you like to come?”

“What?” She was writhing under him, straining for release. “What...what does that mean?”

“I’ll show you.” He licked her, caressing her slick petals with sure strokes of his tongue. At the same time, he thrust his fingers deep inside her, as deeply as he could. She gasped, and then she fell apart.

“Oh, Duncan!” she cried out, arching up to him, shaking with wonder and pleasure.

“Yes, Cait, I know.” His fingers and mouth didn’t stop until her orgasm passed and she lay back, limp and satiated. He stroked her black curls, mussed and wild now.

“Rest a little bit,” he said, “and then it will be your turn to please me.” He stood, stroking his cock, and waited to see if she would balk. But no, she looked at him with...God...admiration. Her face softened into a kind of hopefulness. She wanted him. It took his breath away.

How many times had Lenore looked on him with hatred, with disgust and revulsion as he approached her? Even the women he’d bedded with coin or because they took pity on him, they’d never looked at him like this. He leaned over her and kissed her, burying his fists in her hair, savoring the taste of her lips. Finally, he broke away from her.

“I desire you so much,” he whispered against her lips.

“You do?”

“Yes. I’ll show you how much.”

He pulled her up from the bed and without being asked she fell to her knees and waited as he guided his cock to her lips.

“Open up, yes. You remember. Just like that.”

He thought it would be easier to find control the second night, but the sight of her lips gripping his cock was as erotic as ever. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back as long as possible. The slick warmth of her mouth, her willing ministrations sent a pulse pounding through his veins to his balls, his thighs. He thrust deeper inside her throat, making her gag.