Chapter 15

It didn't take long for Macauley to get rid of Cathleen's clothes, nimble fingers undoing all the laces of her dress and peeling the layers off her one by one, being gentle and mindful of her injury the entire time. Cathleen didn't want him to be gentle. She wanted him to make her forget, and so she tore at the rest of his clothes, hastily removing them and tossing them to the floor. Once they were both naked, she settled back in his lap, hands roaming over the planes of his chest, fingers splayed wide over his heated skin.

She kissed him like she was starving for it, savoring every brush of his lips against hers, every slide of his tongue. When he began to press kisses down her jaw and her neck, Cathleen gasped, tilting her head to give Macauley more space, baring more skin for him. His teeth grazed the spot where her neck met her shoulder, the slight sting of it welcome and exhilarating. His large, warm hands circled her waist and then gripped her buttocks, pulling her impossibly close, until their bodies were pressed flushed together, his hard manhood brushing against her mound.

Cathleen couldn't help but shiver, lust already simmering hot under the surface of her skin, wetness gathering between her thighs as Macauley kissed her. When his lips found her nipple, they wrapped around the hardening nub, sucking hard enough to draw a groan out of her before he soothed the sensitive skin with a swipe of his tongue.

Macauley knew exactly what to do to pull Cathleen out of her mind. He had barely touched her and yet pleasure already coursed through her body, every touch of his hands, his lips forcing softs sounds out of her. In his embrace, she felt as though she were floating, suspended in the air by the sheer force of the pleasure he was giving her, and she never wanted to come back down to the earth.

I wish tae pleasure him, too.

Though Cathleen didn't know the specifics of it, she was still confident she could make Macauley feel good the same way he had by that waterfall. Gentling away from him, she slipped to her knees on the floor, looking up at Macauley to see him gaze at her, conflicted between eagerness and hesitation.

"I want tae," Cathleen assured him, which seemed to reassure him a little. Any concerns he may have voiced died on his tongue as Cathleen swept her hands over his thighs slowly, fingers raking through the sparse hair there. When she reached his hips, she curled her hand around his length and gave an experimental stroke, eager to find out what would give him the most pleasure.

Above her, Macauley trembled as he tried to remain still. His fingers were tangled in the sheets, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip as if he could hardly contain himself. But Cathleen didn't want him to be under this perfect control. She wanted to make him lose every trace of it, to lose himself in this as she did.

Slowly, she pumped her fist a few times, but soon found the drag of her hand to be too rough, dry as it was, though Macauley was hardly complaining. Cathleen took a deep breath, steeling herself. If she wanted to bring him to the very edges of pleasure, then she couldn't allow herself to be timid. Macauley had been with many women in the past and Cathleen wanted to best them all, even with her lack of experience.

If I cannae have experience, then I can at least have enthusiasm.

And, in fact, she had plenty of that. The sight of Macauley, naked and trembling under her hands, his manhood straining against his stomach, ignited a fire deep inside her. Saliva pooled in her mouth, her gaze turning hungry as she leaned closer and wrapped her lips around the head, sucking softly.

It wasn't so much the act of it as much as the sound torn out of Macauley, an urgent, broken thing, that had Cathleen's eyes fluttering shut with pleasure. She could see now what it was that Macauley enjoyed so much about making her fall apart with his hands and his mouth. There was an appeal to be found in having such control, in the ability to make another feel so good.

When Cathleen's eyes opened once more, they found Macauley's. His gaze was dark as he looked down at her, one of his hands disentangling itself from the sheets to cradle her head gently as she slowly took him deeper, stroking what she couldn't reach with her hand. Macauley was hot and hard in her mouth, a hefty weight on her tongue as she dragged it slowly over the underside. Moans poured out of Macauley's lips, along with praise that only served to spur Cathleen on.

"Ye feel so good," he said, his voice breathy and already far gone. His hips twitched time and time again, and Cathleen could see the effort it took for him to stay still, to let her give him as much or as little as she wanted.

It was a heady feeling and she redoubled her efforts, the slick slide of her mouth audible in the silence around them. It was then that Macauley's hand flew to her shoulder, pushing her back as he tried to regain his composure, chest heaving with every breath.

"I willnae last like this," he said as he pulled Cathleen back onto the bed, spreading her on her stomach over the mattress. Cathleen went easily, sighing in satisfaction as Macauley draped himself over her, spreading a few kisses over the expanse of her shoulders. "Ye dinnae ken what ye dae tae me. Ye're all I think about. I wake up thinkin' about spreadin' ye open like this," he said, punctuating his words with a slide of his knees, pushing her thighs further apart, "touchin' ye, kissing' ye, pushing meself inside ye until ye're full o' me."

Cathleen could do little other than moan in agreement, arching into the touch when Macauley's fingers brushed over her entrance, one of them dipping inside with ease.

"Already so slick fer me," he said, swiftly adding a second finger as his other hand curled around her rear, kneading the ample flesh. "Show me how much ye want it."

To her surprise, Macauley stilled his fingers deep inside her, providing her with no relief. It didn't take long, though, for Cathleen to understand what he was asking for and her cheeks heated at the request, embarrassment flooding through her. Still, his fingers were thick inside her, stretching her in a maddening way, and she could feel the drag of his manhood over her hip as he tried to relieve some of the pressure, rubbing futilely against her. It was all too much to resist, her embarrassment fading under her desire, and she began to move her hips slowly back onto those clever fingers.

It was only then that Macauley began to move again, meeting her thrusts and curling his fingers to brush insistently against her walls. Cathleen had to stifle a scream, bracing herself on her forearms to make her movements easier. When she looked at Macauley over her shoulder, she found him staring at the place where they were joined, his dark eyes almost completely overtaken by his blown-out pupils. Cathleen would have felt terribly exposed had it not been for the hunger and the adoration in his gaze, the way he looked at her as if she was the only woman in the world.

"Please," Cathleen said, sounding as breathless as she felt. "More."

She didn't need to ask twice. With a growl, Macauley removed his fingers and grabbed her hips, pulling them up. One of his hands settled between her shoulder blades and then trailed gently down her spine, and Cathleen's body thrummed with anticipation, restless and impatient for more.

Slowly, Macauley pushed himself inside her, twin groans leaving their lips as they were jointed. Cathleen's shoulders collapsed onto the bed, the only thing holding her hips up being Macauley's hands as he began to move, pushing inch by inch inside her in a torturously slow rhythm. Cathleen could feel every stuttering of his hips, every drag of his hard flesh against her silky walls, the stretch all-encompassing. She could think about nothing else but him, nothing but the waves of pleasure that crashed over her, one after the other.

For a little while, she could pretend everything was going to be fine. For a little while, she could pretend she could have this forever.

"I love ye, mo ghraidh," Macauley said, slowing his thrusts into something less frantic, more tender. "I love ye. I wish tae spend all me life pleasin' ye."

As he spoke, his hand reached around Cathleen's hips, fingers finding her sensitive spot, rubbing small, insistent circles over it. The touch startled Cathleen and that, combined with his sweet words and the deep, slow thrusts of his hips finally pushed her over the edge, her lips forming the shape of his name as she came apart on his length.

As she clenched around him in the throes of her climax, Macauley wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up to her knees, his chest pressing hard against her back, his large hand curling around her breast as he gave a few more thrusts. It didn't take long for him to follow, lips closing over her neck as he spent himself with a muffled moan, holding tightly onto her as if he never wanted to let go.

Once they had both caught their breath, Macauley laid Cathleen gently onto the bed and she rolled over to her back to find him smiling at her. It was a smile she couldn't bring herself to mirror. Now that it was over, she knew she would never have anything like it again. Soon, she would be gone and Macauley would be left with nothing but her memory and the bitter taste that would leave in his mouth.

If he noticed that something was wrong, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he only lowered himself next to Cathleen and pulled her in his arms, and Cathleen allowed herself to enjoy that, too, for a while. He let him trace his fingers over the curves of her hip, the dip of her waist, the swell of her breast, the two of them lying there in silence as the minutes flowed past.

Eventually, though, Cathleen knew she would have to get up and get to work. If she was going to lure Deirdre to that inn, then she had to come up with a plausible excuse, some plan to get her there without any suspicion from her or anyone else.

Gently, she pulled herself away from Macauley, much to his displeasure. At first, he tried to hold her there, tightening his hold, but Cathleen was firm as she removed his hands and stood. "I must… I must speak with Kian," she said, giving him the first excuse that came to mind. "An' I'm sure ye have much tae dae now."

Reluctantly, Macauley nodded, standing to retrieve his clothes. "I suppose ye're right. We cannae stay in bed all day."

Cathleen left to clean up, shutting herself in her sleep chambers. It seemed impossible now to face Macauley. It seemed impossible to speak to him, knowing what she was about to do.

I should have never done this. I should have resisted the urge.

She couldn't take it back now, though. She would have to spend the rest of her time in that castle—what little of it remained—avoiding Macauley as much as she could without raising any suspicion. It sounded easier than it was, Cathleen knew. In the short time she had been there, everyone had often seen her with him.

Once she had cleaned up, she dressed in fresh clothes and exited the room to find Macauley still there, waiting for her. A part of her wished that what he had told her was a lie, that he didn't truly love her as he claimed. But he had said he never lied. He wouldn't lie about such a thing and Cathleen couldn't force herself to believe that he would just so that she could give herself some peace of mind.

She had to face the truth for once. Macauley loved her and she was about to break his heart.

Am I truly any better than Faolan? At least he doesnae hide his intentions.

"I will… I'll leave ye, then," Macauley said a little awkwardly, as if he could sense something was wrong but couldn't quite figure out what. Cathleen nodded hastily, herself heading for the door.

If she stayed there much longer, she would break down entirely.