“Nay,” he said.
He was close to breaking, and not knowing or caring where her bravado had come from, she pressed her lips on his and moaned, “Please.”
“Ye little vixen,” he said through clenched teeth. “Ye’ll learn soon enough to nay play with what ye cannea handle.”
Spinning her on his lap to have her back to his chest he nudged his knees under her legs and spread them. One hand was on her full breast kneading the mound to a flush peak while the other was rucking her dress up to her thighs.
He then took her hand and slipped it under the cloth to her center. “Before ye can have anythin’ to do with me, ye need to ken yer own body. Touch yerself.”
A lush decadence spiraled within her. With Leith’s hot, words in her ear and his hand on hers she touched herself to find wetness she had not accounted for. “What do ye feel lass?”
“I’m…” she hesitated as her cheeks burned, “slick.”
“Good,” he murmured, the pinprick of his shaven jaw sliding over her skin. “I want to watch ye ken yerself, feel the pleasure ye can give yerself.”
Thank god it was dark or she would have never obeyed him. Slowly, she stroked the wetness on her slick folds. As she stroked, a heady pulsing demanded her attention and she lifted her finger to stroke over a slippery nub. Her back arched on Leith’s chest as bliss darted up to her spine, but she stroked and pressed on the nub even more. Pleasure was zig-zagging under her skin and a tightening began to build in her stomach.
“Keep stroking,” he said hoarsely. “Tease yerself.” The sensations were building and rising like a full-moon tide. Then his finger joined hers but this time they slid down to her entrance and a tip poked in. “On a bed, me mouth would be right here, lass, me tongue inside ye like this.” His finger began to push inside her and pull out. Her walls clenched over the small intrusion and more wetness coated his fingertip. “I’d taste yer honey, somethin’ that I ken will be sweeter than anything bees could provide. I’d take ye with me mouth and when ye shatter, I’d drink all ye could give me.”
“L−Lei-” her voice was shuddery. Heat was consuming her inside and out, “I—”
“Me Laird!” a frantic female voice cut through the air. “Me Laird, where are ye! We need ye!”
The fire inside Mary was put out quicker than if someone had upended a bucket of icy water over her head. Heart pounding, she scrambled from his lap and got her dress in order. Leith looked cross but he pressed a finger to his lips and they got off the bench.
Without another look he parted the bushes, making sure they closed behind him, “I’m here, what do ye need?”
“It’s yer Faither, Me Laird, he’s been calling for ye!”
16
Calling for me…is it true! Has he come back to his senses?
Leith wanted to spin around and make sure Mary was all right but he did not dare. He just had to hope that she would get to the servants’ quarters safely. The building was not too far away.
He hurried off back to the main building, hoping that Mary would forgive him for his abrupt leave. The woman behind him was hurrying with him back to the castle but did not go further than the ground floor. He assumed she was only one of many messengers but could not spare the time to ask her.
Taking the stairs three at a time, he climbed to his father’s chambers faster than he had ever had. His hope was building so high that he knew deep devastation would consume him if his expectation was shattered. He got to the door and bypassed Dugald and Finlay with terse nods and pushed the door in.
He stopped short only two steps in when he saw his father sitting on the edge of his bed, his skin looking a bit grey and his face looking a bit thinner but—thank you, God!—his father’s grey eyes were clear! Blessedly clear.
“Faither?” he asked, daring to edge closer. “Faither, do ye ken who I am?”
A head of dark hair stricken with grey lifted, and an exasperated look crossed his father’s face. “Of course, I ken who ye are, stop playing games, son, and sit.”
Leith could have collapsed on the floor but forced his wooden legs over to one of the chairs near the bed. He could not believe his eyes…eyes that had hoped to see this very sight for weeks on end. He began to wonder how this sudden change had come along.
“How are ye feeling?” he asked cautiously.
“I’m…clear enough,” Aaron said faintly. “Me body’s nay in pain and me head is less…foggy.”
Shaking his head, Leith said, “I just cannae believe it’s ye back in yer right mind. I’ve been hopin’ and prayin’ for this day to come through from the day ye got sick. Do ye ken how it happened?”
Thinner shoulders shrugged. “I cannae tell ye, son. I just ken that I woke up this morning with that dratted fog in me mind gone. The pain in me chest was gone too and so was the urge to put me fist through those around me,” Aaron said. “I feel so much better but, goddamn, am I hungry. Listen, I’ve been told that I was horrible to yer mother, would ye call her for me and then we can talk about other matters.”
A surge of relief filled him at the sight of his father, sane and speaking with sense. He hugged his father quickly, trying to not use too much strength on his sire’s frail body.
“Och, son,” his father grunted, “when did ye get so strong.”
“I cannae take all the credit, Faither,” Leith said thankfully, “Yer seed had something to do with it. I’ll get mother for ye and what
