Page 54 of Deception of a Highlander

Her hands skimmed his stomach, burning a path of uncontrollable desire down to his loins. Her fingers dipped inside his kilt and closed around him. The coolness of her grasp against the raging heat of his cock was an excruciating balm for the lust that had preoccupied him since they met. Kieran groaned at the intense pleasure of her touch before he gripped her wrist and pulled her hand away.

“Enough,” he said, his voice terse. This was his game, and he was not about to relinquish the power.

“Please,” she murmured against his ear.

“No’ yet,” he growled.

His finger traced the slick cleft between her legs. Mariel moaned helplessly and trembled beneath him.

He released her hand and lifted his plaid. His stomach knotted in anticipation, his body tight as a bowstring. He rubbed the blunt edge of his arousal against her wet core. God help him, there was no stopping now.

This was what she wanted—nay, demanded—and he would give it to her.

With a savage push, he sheathed himself completely inside her tight, wet heat and froze.

* * *

Mariel gasped sharply as her maidenhead tore beneath Kieran’s powerful thrust. She thought she had prepared herself for the pain and that she would be able to mask its existence, but the sting had been far more acute than she had expected. Desire melted away and left the ugly truth of reality in its stead.

She had deceived him, forced him to believe she was someone she was not. Thinking she could play the part when necessary. His body was taut beneath her fingertips, every muscle locked as he cursed low under his breath. He looked down at her, his black eyes wild.

“Ye were a maiden?” he asked incredulously.

She wanted to shrink under his gaze, cover her breasts, and hide away from him. Not trusting herself to speak, she gave a short nod.

He pulled out of her, the slight movement causing a wave of unwanted pleasure to roll through her. Evidence of her virginity smeared across his hardened phallus, glistening like a flag of shame before he covered himself with his kilt.

“Damn it, Mariel!” His fist slammed into the shelf beside him. A book fell to the floor with a hollow thud and broke the silence following his outburst. “Why did ye lie to me?” He turned his accusing stare on her.

She pulled her bodice over her exposed breasts and pushed off the desk onto shaky legs. Her skirt fell like a heavy curtain, shielding her disgrace from view.

“I didn’t lie. You assumed,” she hissed. The need to defend herself overwhelmed the burn of humiliation.

“Ye kept this secret from me, and ye’re the one who is angry?” he roared, his accent thick with fury.

Heat flooded her cheeks. “You don’t know a damned thing about me, Kieran MacDonald. You don’t know the life I have lived or what I’ve had to do to survive. You know nothing. You don’t know what I sacrificed to keep my virginity, saving it like some…some…” She faltered. Unease overwhelmed the humiliated rage coursing through her. Too much had been said already.

She shoved past him, and this time, he did not stop her as she wrenched the door open and fled into the hall. The soles of her shoes tapped against the stone floor, a slow, steady rhythm that called attention to the erratic beat of her heart. Her vision blurred and turned the hall into a smear of grays as she blindly made her way to her room. She did not stop until she had the door bolted behind her, and she lay upon the bed with her cheeks pressed into the pillow. The cool surface soothed the heat of her face and helped clear her head enough to think.

Emotions raced through her, filling her with sorrow, shame, and the sad reality she had been too stubborn to admit. She was falling in love with Kieran MacDonald, the very man she had been sent to betray. A man of honor and value; one she had begun to look up to. And the more she learned about him, the more she respected him. He was everything she had wanted in her youth and everything she did not deserve now.

How foolish she had been for guarding her maidenhead as if it held any worth. The cost of keeping it had been higher than anticipated, and Jack was still paying the price. She had always resisted the ridiculous sums offered to her under the assumption that perhaps someday she could choose the man to give it to. A foolish girlhood notion a woman should have known better than to believe.

Mariel curled into a ball in the center of the bed. If Kieran shunned her, her options would be limited. The weight of Aaron’s threat hung on her conscience, and helpless tears pooled under the pillow beneath her cheek.

* * *

That next morning, Mariel waited for Kieran to rise and quietly followed him to the stables. It was perhaps a desperate move on her part, taking a chance that he might lead her where she needed to go, but she would rather face the chill of the dark morning than a bed where she tossed and turned in sleepless angst.

She peered from around the large trunk of a tree to where Kieran rode several paces away and tightened the plaid around her, not only for protection against the bitter wind but also for the blend of colors that would blur her into the scenery.

One glance confirmed his ignorance. She moved quietly through the brush and squatted on trembling legs. How long had she been at this? An hour? Two?

The gray light of dawn had feathered into the brilliance of morning, and sunlight speckled the sandy dirt at her feet.

Perhaps she had been foolish to follow Kieran on foot when he rode on horseback, but his pace had been slow enough to track, and she would have had difficulty hiding a horse on the sparse terrain.

Kieran climbed a hill in the distance and disappeared from view, giving Mariel an opportunity to dart across the landscape toward a pile of jagged rocks thrusting up through the tender earth. The ocean spread to her left, dazzling blue as it reflected the rays of the sun like a thousand glinting mirrors. The grass near her feet had long since slid away onto the beach and left a short cliff no taller than she. It was the perfect place to keep her presence hidden.