Chapter 18

At the knock on his door, Macauley looked forlornly at the tub of steaming water in his chambers. He had been looking forward to his bath, but now if he opened the door, he would be doomed to a quick, tepid soak—neither as relaxing as a hot bath nor as refreshing as a cold one.

With a sigh, he opened the door, expecting to see a guard there, but instead, he saw Cathleen and a smile immediately spread over his lips. His bath could wait for all he cared.

Or perhaps neither his bath nor Cathleen had to wait.

Grabbing her by the arm, Macauley pulled her close to him, pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. A surprised sound escaped Cathleen and she went rigid with surprise at first, but then she melted into the kiss, letting Macauley pull her farther into the room as he pushed the door shut with his foot.

It was perfect timing, he thought. The sky had darkened, the sun having set over the horizon not too long ago. The candles in the room bathed it in a soft orange light and the fire kept the place warm, the tub placed near it to benefit from the heat. Macauley brought Cathleen closer to the tub, his fingers finding the laces of her dress and undoing them with practiced ease, only to have Cathleen plant her hands on his shoulders and pull back a little, looking at him in confusion.

"What are ye doin'?" she asked, giving him a small, hesitant smile.

"It would be a shame tae let this water go tae waste, dinnae ye think?" Macauley asked, hands stilling on her waist as he leaned closer and pressed a kiss to her neck. Cathleen sighed contently, tilting her head to bare her neck as Macauley scattered kisses on her soft skin, and he took it as an invitation to tug her dress down, letting it pool around her feet. He then moved her shift and took a step back to admire her body under the candlelight, taking in the soft contours of her curves, the glow of her pale skin, the way her eyes seemed to glitter in the half-light.

He had never seen a woman as beautiful, as captivating. There was not a moment in the day when he didn't think of her, when he didn't crave her. If only he had the luxury to spend all day with her in bed, doing nothing but pleasuring her hour after hour.

His manhood hardening in his trews, Macauley had to resist the urge to press the heel of his palm against himself to relieve some of the pressure. He imagined the moment he would finally bury himself inside her and draw those pretty sounds out of her lips. Now none of them would be lost to the rush of the water—in the quiet of the room, he could hear all of it, every breath, every sigh.

For a moment, he considered falling to his knees once more and pleasuring her with his mouth, licking the tight seam of her and pushing his tongue inside her wet heat until she screamed his name and fell apart, ready to part for his length. He wanted to draw it out, though, so instead he undressed quickly and then helped Cathleen into the tub before he settled behind her, her back pressed against his chest.

The water was warm around them, like a cocoon he never wanted to leave. Cathleen was warm, too, her skin like a brand on him, her body a comforting weight.

It was only then that she seemed to relax, some of the tension melting off her shoulders, though Macauley could hardly claim it was enough. She seemed anxious, a little rigid against him when she was usually at ease, though Macauley supposed that was to be expected. Her sister was gone. Even though he and Kian had assured her they would find her, it meant little when she could be in grave danger.

Gently, Macauley began to massage Cathleen's shoulders, trying to take some of that tension away. He dug his thumbs in the muscles, reaching deep into her flesh, and Cathleen let her head fall back with a moan, body shifting under his hands.

She had hardly spoken to him ever since entering the room, but Macauley didn't need her to say a word to know what she needed. He was happy to give her as much comfort as he could and take her mind off everything for a little while, at least, so he ran his hands over her shoulders and down her back, searching for all those points of tension and massaging them away in silence.

The entire time, he watched, mesmerized, at the rise and fall of her chest as she took in deep breaths. Her breasts dipped in and out of the water with every inhale and exhale, her skin slick with water, her nipples pebbled and begging to be toyed with, and Macauley couldn't resist the urge to drag his hands down to her breasts, cupping them gently.

A soft sound tumbled past Cathleen's lips as she arched to the touch and Macauley, emboldened by her reaction, pinched her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making her moan his name. The sight of her losing herself to her pleasure sent a jolt of lust through him and his manhood hardened to the point of discomfort, twitching where it was trapped between them.

He could be patient, though. This wasn't about him, but about Cathleen, about making her forget for a little while.

"Tell me what ye want," he whispered in her ear with a mischievous smirk. He knew Cathleen would practically vibrate with embarrassment, that gorgeous blush spreading over her cheeks and down her chest, and so he couldn't help but tease her.

At first, Cathleen responded with nothing but a whine, hips rolling in a way that had her soft skin dragging up against his length, making him moan softly. Just a little more and he could slip right inside her, sink into her heat and fill her to the brim?—

But he had to have patience. He only pressed up against her for a moment, trying to get a little bit of relief, before he simply laid his hands over her breasts, stilling his movements.

"What dae ye want, Cathleen?" he asked once more, chuckling at the frustrated groan she gave him.

"Touch me," she demanded.

"Where?"

Another frustrated groan, only this time Cathleen turned to glare at him over her shoulder and Macauley couldn't help but chuckle, leaning closer to rub his cheek over that shoulder just to hear her yelp at the friction of his beard.

"Dae ye want me tae touch ye here?" he asked, giving her breast a squeeze and rolling her nipple between his fingers, pinching a little harder when she moaned. "Or here?"

As he spoke, one of his hands travelled down her stomach and brushed teasingly over her folds, a barely-there touch that still had her twitching in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the rim of the tub.

"Dae ye want me inside? Ye already feel so wet… is it the water or dae ye want it so much?"

Just as Macauley had expected, Cathleen was flushed red, the color spreading everywhere he could see. Despite her embarrassment, though, her body knew what it wanted and she rolled her hips time after time, trying to get some friction that Macauley still denied her.

"Here," Cathleen said, finally relenting, as her hand found Macauley's and pressed it harder against her mound. She moaned shamelessly at the touch and Macauley couldn't help but echo the sound, dizzy with lust and aching to touch her properly.

"How imperious o' ye," he teased.

"I'm comin' tae understand," Cathleen said, her breath coming out in soft pants, "that is what ye want."

* * *

Cathleen had come to Macauley's chambers with a purpose—she was going to tell him everything and she was going to accept whatever judgement he passed. Before she could say a single thing to him, though, he had dragged her inside and kissed her, and suddenly Cathleen had found herself naked in a tub at the mercy of his touch.

She had lost track of her mission in seconds, giving in instead to the relentless teasing of his soft touches until it was too much to bear and she needed more, but Macauley would give her nothing if she didn't ask for it first.

It embarrassed her, thinking that she had to say those words out loud, but even though she was inexperienced in sexual matters, she knew how to get what she wanted. This was just another thing she had to take for herself, just another task that depended on confidence and spunk—traits she had long since developed. If she could get people to do as she wished, then she could make Macauley do the same now.

When she grabbed his hand and demanded a firmer touch, a moan of relief was torn out of her. Her skin tingled with a mix of pleasure and still unmet need, Macauley's teasing touches to her breasts and her torso when he was massaging her driving her mad with lust to the point where she was already close to her climax. She could feel that tell-tale pressure building up inside her, slick gathering quickly between her thighs so that when two of Macauley's fingers finally breached her, they met no resistance at all.

Twin groans escaped them when his fingers slid inside to the hilt. The stretch, familiar to Cathleen by then, was enough to wring her pleasure out of her by itself, but there was everything else that spurred her on, too: Macauley's labored breaths, hot by her ear; the knowledge that his gaze was glued to her body, watching the swing of her breasts as she moved and the way his fingers disappeared inside her through the water; his manhood, rigid against her back, waiting to sink inside her.

"I cannae wait tae push inside ye," Macauley whispered in her ear, his voice rough and gravely. "But first, I wish tae see ye like this. I love watchin' ye fall apart. I love watchin' yer body when ye're in the throes o' pleasure."

Macauley set a deliciously brutal pace, intent to pull out every bit of pleasure from her body. Cathleen could do little more than hold onto his hands where one was wrapped around her breast and the other disappeared between her legs, her body completely at his mercy. His fingers pumped fast inside her, the pads of them dragging over her walls every time he pulled them out just enough to drive them back in, the motion sending every other thought away.

Macauley seemed to know precisely what she needed. She needed to be taken out of her mind, to surrender to pleasure until there was nothing else left.

Her orgasm caught up to her suddenly, like a wave that pulled her under, forced out of her by Macauley's relentless fingers. She distantly heard herself scream his name as she shook around his hand, her entire body jolting as they continued their pursuit, working her through the aftershocks.

She didn't know how long it lasted. She only came back to herself when Macauley chuckled in her ear, and by then, she was laid over his chest as he stroked her folds idly, just enjoying the proximity of their bodies.

With a sigh, Cathleen shifted until she could face him, leaning in to steal a kiss from him. "Take me tae bed," she said, and Macauley was quick to oblige, almost tumbling out of the tub before he managed to right himself and help Cathleen out, as well.

Laughter bubbled out of her despite everything. Macauley had managed to make her feel better for a while, but now that they were apart as he grabbed the towel, the thoughts of her sister and their betrayal returned. She didn't want to face the truth just yet, though. She wasn't ready for it.

Instead, she let Macauley wrap her in the towel, drying her off before doing the same to himself. Once he was done, he tossed the towel aside and pulled Cathleen to his bed, laying her down on her stomach as he climbed over her.

His kisses were warm and soft on the expanse of her shoulders and his hands travelled a path down her torso, fingers splayed wide over her skin. Cathleen surrendered herself to the pleasure, stretching like a cat beneath him, her fingers curling into the sheets as he moved lower and lower. With one last kiss to the dip of her spine, Macauley straightened himself and pulled her hips up to meet his own, the tip of his manhood dragging over her opening for one long, torturous moment.

Then, he pushed himself inside and Cathleen's head was empty of thoughts once more, all her concerns chased away by the feeling of him driving in deep, his hands gripping her hips tightly. He cursed behind her, the words turning into a warbled moan as she pushed back and took him deeper, her walls clenching tightly around his length.

"Ye dinnae ken what ye dae tae me," he said as he began to move in earnest, each thrust of his hips forcing soft, quiet sounds from Cathleen's lips. The position let him reach deep inside her, deeper than the first time they had shared together, his manhood hitting a spot inside her again and again that drove her mad with desire, her entire body trembling with need.

She wished she could see Macauley like this and so she turned her head to the side, catching a glimpse of him. He looked like a statue under the dim light, pale skin bathed in orange, the muscle of his abdomen shifting and rippling with his thrusts. His lips were parted, groans tumbling out of them unbridled, and his gaze roamed all over Cathleen's body as though he was trying to memorize every single detail, every curve and dip of flesh.

"I love ye, mo ghraidh," he said, sounding as breathless as she felt. "I adore ye. I want naething but ye."

"I love ye," Cathleen echoed, the words all but forced out of her. It was the truth—a truth she couldn't deny, no matter how much it could hurt them both.

Macauley moaned as though the words themselves gave him more pleasure than he could take. His grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into her skin, and his thrust turned erratic, picking up the pace. Macauley didn't only chase his own pleasure, though; he reached around Cathleen's waist, fingers finding that sensitive spot over her opening and rubbing gently over it in time with his thrusts.

"Come," he said, growling it in her ear. "I wish tae feel ye around me. Show me how much ye like this."

Cathleen was pushed over the edge once again by his hands, his words, the feel of him inside her, filling her up entirely. The force of her climax had her collapsing onto the mattress, her opening twitching around Macauley and pulling him over the edge with her, hips pulling back to paint her folds with his seed.

For a few moments, he sat back on his heels, trying to catch his breath. Cathleen had no choice but to do the same, letting her hips fall down and rolling onto her back to look at him.

She had to tell him the truth. They had just shared another beautiful moment together and now Cathleen had to ruin it all. What other choice did she have? Deirdre was right—she had to be the one to tell him everything and she had to do it now.

With a sigh, Macauley joined her, pulling her in his arms. He nosed at the top of her head and though Cathleen tried to disentangle herself from him, bracing herself for the inevitable fight, Macauley refused to let her go.

"I have somethin' tae ask ye," he said and Cathleen's thoughts were derailed for a moment, curiosity getting the better of her.

"What is it?"

"Will ye marry me?"

Cathleen's heart stuttered, missing beat after beat. She looked at Macauley, at that eager, open smile, the loving gaze, the trust he held for her, and that very same heart shattered to pieces.