The Recruit (Highland Guard #6)(19)

Aye, she wanted him. But what surprised him was that he also wanted her. How he wished it was her that he was buried deep inside of right now.

When their eyes met, he let her see exactly what he was thinking. Her eyes looked huge behind the two pieces of glass, and they widened even farther when she felt the force of his lust. It wrapped around them, coiling, tightening, drawing them together as if there were no one else in the world.

His blood was pounding hard now. He could feel the sensations gathering at the base of his spine and knew he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer.

Without thinking about what he was doing, but knowing that he didn’t want anything—or anyone—between them, he pulled out of the woman beneath him and fisted his hand around himself. Holding the other woman’s gaze, he started to stroke himself. He imagined it was her gripping him. Her tight, wet heat pulling him over the edge. The eager expression on her face made it easy.

He groaned, his hand quickening the pace. Every muscle in his body clenched with anticipation. He could feel it. Almost …

Her eyes hadn’t left his, but he knew she’d guessed what he was doing because her mouth opened in shock. A perfect little O.

Her breath hitched in a shocked gasp, and the erotic sound sent him over. His arse clenched. He let out a deep groan, jerking his pleasure in deep pulsing streams.

When he was done, their eyes met in one long, hot moment of primal awareness. He could almost feel the frantic beat of her heart against his and hear the quickening of her breath in his ear. He would have given nearly everything at that moment to touch her. To slide his hand between her thighs and feel the warmth and dampness that he knew he would find there. How many strokes would it take to push her over?

But the spell was broken by Lady Moira. “That was amazing. I’m glad to say this is one time the rumors were not exaggerated. You’re every bit as spectacular as they say with that long sword of yours.”

Kenneth felt a prick of annoyance that was no doubt unwarranted. He didn’t expect more from her than swiving, so why would he expect a more interesting comment than a reference to the size of his cock?

Lady Moira had collapsed in a well-sated heap on the hay-strewn floor when he’d released her, but she’d revived enough to put herself in a slightly more elegant position on her back.

He’d forgotten all about her. Apparently, as had their interloper. He just caught the edge of her horror-stricken expression before she turned and fled out of the barn, the Devil nipping at her heels.

He let her go. But part of him actually wanted to go after her.

Lady Moira sat up. “Did you hear something?”

He shook his head and reached for his shirt, wondering what the hell was the matter with him. “It was one of the horses. You’d better fix your clothes. The lads will be returning soon.”

The lady babbled platitudes for another quarter hour while he helped her with her hair and gown before he could finally escort her out of the stables. His mind was on the other woman. Who was she? And more incredibly, why the hell did he care?

He’d never done anything like that before in his life, and he wasn’t quite sure what had provoked him to such wickedness. He didn’t usually find himself turned on by prim little wrens. But something about her reaction—the innocent arousal and not-so-innocent hunger—had fired his blood in a way that defied explanation, turning something that should have been forgettable into something … different. Memorable.

What had started out as a taunting game had taken an unexpected turn, leaving him vaguely unsettled. He’d gone too far, and he knew it. But he hadn’t forced her to stand there and watch. And he sure as hell hadn’t expected either of them to enjoy it so much.

The lass intrigued him. But all his focus right now was on earning a place in Bruce’s secret army. A lass, no matter how intriguing, wasn’t going to distract him.

Four

“I’m glad to see you have recovered, Lady Mary.”

The king paused before her seat on the way to take his own in the stands that had been set up to watch the competition. Modeled on the ancient Roman amphitheater, a circular field had been set off by a wooden fence surrounded by tiers of wooden benches. The king’s party, however, watched from a special viewing platform erected especially for the Games. As it was a warm day, she was glad for the addition of a canvas tent overhead.

Mary was seated at the far end near the stairs, with her former sister-in-law, the MacKenzie chief, and their three young daughters. Their two sons were competing in some of the events. She returned the king’s smile, hoping he mistook her pink cheeks for warmth and not embarrassment. “Much better, Sire.”

For four days since that horrible night, she’d feigned illness to avoid the possibility of coming face to face with him. Aye, she was hiding like a coward and had no shame in admitting it to herself.

“I was worried you’d miss all the fun. It’s been an exciting Games so far. One of my knights is creating quite a stir. He’s won nearly every competition he’s entered and is on his way to being named champion. He’s the Earl of Sutherland’s brother and heir, Sir Kenneth. Do you know of him?”

She shook her head, wondering why this felt like more than polite conversation. “It’s been many years since I’ve been to court, my lord.”

Robert’s face shadowed. “Aye, lass, I know. I would that it had been different. You’ve been missed. I hope you will return soon.” He paused and gave her an innocent smile. “Perhaps next time you will bring your son?”