Devil of the Highlands (Devil of the Highlands #1)(18)
Author: Lynsay Sands

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 h*ps 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 h*ps 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 br**sts, 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.

Chapter Ten

Cullen pressed a kiss to the top of Evelinde’s head, then began to slide out from under her to get out of bed.

"Are you getting up already?"

He heard the disappointment in Evelinde’s voice and merely smiled to himself as he found his plaid and laid it out to work folds into the strip of cloth in preparation of donning it. While it was early morning, it was not as early as it had been when he’d woken her with kisses and caresses and made love to her. The memory drew his gaze back to his wife, and he found himself transfixed as she stretched in the bed with a feline grace.

"Are you disappointed?"

Cullen glanced to her face as she drew the linens up, covering herself. "In what?"

"I am not as buxom, or big, or tall as little Maggie," she pointed out quietly.

He almost laughed, but then realized she was serious. Women were a strange breed, Cullen decided. The truth was he liked her body. He’d liked Maggie’s, too. They were both beautiful in their own ways. Evelinde’s was slim and graceful like a rosebud rising out of the earth. Maggie had been full and ripe like a rose in full bloom. Both were roses and both beautiful.

"Well?" Evelinde asked, the worry in her voice growing more pronounced.

"I’m no disappointed," Cullen answered. When that did not seem to reassure her, he recalled his duty, and frowned. "I like yer body. Yer short, but please me."

"Short?" she squawked, appearing affronted.

"Aye. Yer like to make me a gnarled old man with a twisted back having to stoop to kiss ye all the time, but ’tis worth it," he teased.

Evelinde’s expression was priceless. Her mouth opened and closed several times, then she grumbled under her breath, but her cheeks were flushed from her exertions, and her expression was not the troubled and unhappy look he’d become used to. She looked satisfied and at peace.

And all it had taken was giving her a tumble and a compliment or two, Cullen thought with a shake of the head. He’d ridden for three days without sleep to get her away from her stepmother, but she hadn’t seemed to appreciate that. Yet he said a couple of words of praise and bedded her—definitely not an effort—and she was happy.

He would never understand women, Cullen thought as he donned his plaid. His gaze slid back to his wife as he drew the end of the plaid over his shoulder to fasten it in front, and he paused when he saw the way she was watching him.

"Stop that, or I shall never get out of this room," he growled, feeling his body respond to the hunger in her eyes. When she just smiled, Cullen shook his head, and forced his attention to finding the broach that he used to fasten his plaid. A frown claimed his lips when he couldn’t find it in the rushes by where the plaid had lain.

"What are you looking for?" Evelinde asked curiously.

"Me pin," he muttered, and shrugged impatiently and moved to his chest. He had another there and would find the missing one later. Cullen had knelt and opened the chest when Evelinde suddenly cried, "Here it is!"

Pausing, he glanced toward the bed to see her grab something off the bedside table and scoot off the bed.

Cullen straightened as she rushed over to offer it to him, his eyes moving over her. When Evelinde paused in front of him—instead of taking the pin—he used his free hand to sweep her against his chest and lowered his head to kiss her soundly. He squeezed her behind and urged her closer as he did, but then Evelinde moaned and wiggled against him, and he felt his body responding. Cullen immediately set her away and took the pin from her before temptation could become irresistible.

"Pack a picnic for the nooning," he ordered, temptation nagging at him as he fastened the plaid in place with the pin.

"Why?"

He glanced to the surprised expression on her face, but merely said, "I’ve a mind to return to the clearing with ye."

Cullen heard her draw in an excited breath as he turned away and smiled to himself as he walked out of the room. He was now very much looking forward to the midday meal.

Evelinde watched her husband go, a slow smile curving her lips and her toes curling into the rushes beneath her as she considered why he might wish to take her back to the clearing. The smile faded, however, as she glanced down at the open chest beside her.

What with one thing and another, Evelinde had quite forgotten all about losing his pin until Cullen had gone in search of it. She was thinking of it now, however, and knew she had to find it, which meant a trip down to the paddocks. Evelinde grimaced at the thought, but it was either that or telling her husband she’d lost it.

Finding it was definitely the preferred option, Evelinde decided and straightened her shoulders with determination as she moved to the basin on the table for a quick wash before getting dressed. She had her chemise on and was just picking up the gown she’d decided to wear that day when Mildrede arrived.

The maid helped her, chattering on about her impressions of Donnachaidh as she did. Distracted with her worry about finding the pin, Evelinde wasn’t really paying much attention until Mildrede said, "I could hardly believe it when she said the men go about their swordplay while the women do all the real work around here."

Evelinde scowled, recalling her intention to talk to Cullen about the unfair division of labor at Donnachaidh. Perhaps she should do so this evening, or while they were on their picnic. This evening, she decided, not wishing to ruin the afternoon’s outing and discourage her husband if he wished to once again show her that he "liked" her. Evelinde quite liked being liked. It was turning out to be the best part of marriage so far.

"Ugh," Mildrede muttered as she followed her out of the chamber a moment later. "How anyone can see in this light, I don’t know. I am like to do myself an injury do we not get some light in this hall."

"Aye." Evelinde sighed, taking her arm to lead her to the stairs. "I shall talk to Cullen about it this evening."

Mildrede grunted her approval and continued her earlier chatter as they descended the stairs.

Evelinde tried to leave the keep at once to go start her search for the lost pin, but Mildrede wouldn’t hear of her leaving without seeing she first broke her fast. The maid had her sit at the table while she fetched her some mead and one of Biddy’s delicious pasties, then sat and told her she thought Biddy was a love while she watched Evelinde eat.

Evelinde listened with amusement and affection, glad to have the woman with her again and grateful to her husband for it. Cullen really was very considerate, she acknowledged. And now that he was speaking to her a little, she was beginning to think everything might be all right after all. Evelinde did not think they would ever have deep and long-winded conversations, but perhaps that wasn’t important. She wasn’t sure.