Chapter 22

Daemon huffed out a breath of annoyance as he thumped on Lyla's door again. Night had long since fallen, and he knew she'd retired some time ago. He'd wanted to speak to her sooner, but the attack on the village was a serious matter, and it had had to be dealt with. He'd been unable to escape his duties before now.

There was no answer, and Daemon scowled at the heavy wood panel, wondering if she was ignoring him, just to make a point, or to spite him. He hadn't missed the anger in her voice when he'd spoken to her in the village. He just hadn't had time to inquire further. Then they'd returned to the keep and been swept apart by his responsibilities and her decision to seek out some rest and a meal in the privacy of her rooms.

He wasn't sure why Lyla might be angry with him, but he was determined not to let the matter lie until he understood. He knew full well that not addressing the problem would make it all the worse when it eventually came to light. He might not know what the future held for their relationship, but he was determined that it wouldn't involve anger and silences that poisoned their feelings.

Another knock, then Daemon gritted his teeth and tried the handle. To his surprise, the door swung open easily, revealing an empty room. Lyla wasn't there. Daemon stared at the empty chamber for a long moment, then sighed and went to look for her.

She wasn't in the kitchens, nor in the bathing chambers. Nor was she in the garden or the ladies's solar. He was about ready to hit something, or call the servants to search when he remembered the library. Lyla wasn't a particularly voracious reader, but she did like books, as he'd seen before. And the library was a quiet, restful place, whether you sought to read, or simply wanted a place to think in relative solitude.

Daemon entered the library with soft, near soundless footsteps. There was a candle on the table closest to the hearth, and the fire was built up, suggesting someone else had entered the room before him. Daemon paced through the shelves, eyes searching the shadows for Lyla.

He found her in the very back of the library, near where he'd found her the first time. Daemon smiled and stepped closer. "I didnae ken ye were such a lover o' this sort o' book."

Lyla spun to face him, panic in her face for a second before she recognized him. The startled look was replaced by one of embarrassment, a red blush suffusing her cheeks as she attempted to glare at him, while still looking abashed. "I dinnae. I was simply wandering yer library."

"If ye say so. I ken that ye ken where, and what, these books are. But I'll nae judge if ye enjoy the reading o' them."

Her blush deepened. "I said I didnae! And in any case, ye've nae room tae talk, fer ye're back here yerself!"

Daemon snorted. "Och, so I am, but if ye'll recall, I came back here both times because I was following ye."

Lyla scowled. "Ye told me ye were after a book!"

"I also tackled ye because I thought ye were an intruder... did ye never think tae question that?"

Her flush deepened, spreading to her ears, throat, and down her chest. Daemon watched with interest, wondering how far the blush went. Then Lyla rallied. "Well, ye're the one that purchased them!"

"I am nae. Rowan bought some o' them." That had been a surprise, to find out that his wife liked a certain type of reading material. "Ryan provided some more, and some o' them I inherited, already part o' the library." Though he didn't even want to consider who else in his family might have taken enjoyment from those books... there were things he never wanted to know, and that was among them.

"But surely ye've read them!"

"Dinnae see the need. I've other ways of satisfying meself." He smirked at her. "O' course, ye might convince me tae change me mind."

"Ye... then why did ye act as though ye read them?"

Daemon snorted. "As if ye werenae embarrassed enough being found in this corner o' the library, without me making it worse."

"Oh." Lyla's expression was mortified, and Daemon stifled a chuckle. "I see."

They stood in silence for a moment, before Lyla spoke again. "Daemon, we need tae talk about the village."

Daemon nodded. "I ken ye were angry at me in the village, but I dinnae understand what's bothering ye."

Lyla turned to face him, and Daemon was surprised by the solemn expression on her face. It was no longer anger or embarrassment, just a sort of sternness that went past both of those emotions and into resolve. "I was angry because ye were trying tae control me."

Daemon blinked. "What? I didnae…"

"Ye did. The minute I mentioned going tae aid the villagers, ye refused me. Ye didnae even ask why I wanted tae go, or take a minute tae think. Ye simply refused, and when I stood up tae ye, ye tried tae use yer rank and yer position tae cow me. And I'll nae accept that, nae from ye or any man."

Daemon thought back to what had happened. He'd been concerned about letting her go to the village while it was under attack, yes, but surely he hadn't been that bad. "Ye went tae the village."

"Aye. After ye tried tae force me tae stay. I had tae push past ye and out the gate afore ye listened tae me. Did ye nae say ye refused tae be defied in yer own home? And that if I happened tae get out o' sight o' ye or yer men, ye'd have me hogtied and carried back?"

He had said that. Daemon scowled. "I may have been harsh, but ‘twas only out o' concern."

"It doesnae matter." Lyla moved closer to him, staring up at him with fearless eyes. "I'm a woman grown, and I've lived most o' me life taking care o' meself and me family home. I dinnae care tae be treated like an erring child, or a servant in need o' disciplining."

Daemon started to respond, but she over-rode him and continued speaking. "It wasnae as if Alyn and I were asking fer aught that we shouldn't be. We didnae suggest going alone, or trying tae fight. We only went tae help the wounded, which was needed. Part o' the reason there were nae deaths was because Alyn and I tended to folk, and got those that were seriously injured tae the healer. And neither o' us was careless."

"Ye're right. Ye did a fair amount o' good. I can admit it." Daemon sighed and ran a hand through his white-blond hair. "I didnae mean tae be overly harsh."

"'Tis nae the harshness I mind. ‘Tis the attempt tae control me at all, especially when I wasnae after doing anything wrong." Lyla gave him a sharp look. "I ken ye're a rough man, a warrior and sometimes gruffer than ye need tae be. I've kent it fer a long time, and I dinnae mind. But I'll nae put up with a man who thinks he can hold me back at his whim, or use a title and position as a chain."

Daemon grimaced. He hadn't meant to do any such thing. He'd only meant to keep her safe, but clearly Lyla didn't see it that way. And looking back on it, he had been perhaps a tad more forceful than he should have been.

Lyla was a laird's daughter, and not his ward. He should have remembered that when speaking to her. He should also have recalled who her sisters were, and the fact that he'd taught her some self-defense, so he knew she wasn't helpless.

Daemon reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Ye're right. I pushed ye too far, and I shouldnae have tried tae control ye. I was acting a fool, and I'm sorry fer it."

"But ye'll nae dae it again?"

Daemon winced. "I cannae promise that, for all I mean tae try." He saw the flash of anger in her eyes and put a hand over her mouth. "I cannae promise because me heart willnae let me."

Lyla pulled her head back, but confusion had replaced anger, for the most part. "What dae ye mean by that?"

"I mean that I cannae stop wanting tae keep ye safe, and I cannae promise I'll nae ever be foolish with it again." He cupped her cheek with his hand. "Whether I want tae or nae, I'm falling in love with ye, Lyla MacDougall. And love makes men fools, sometimes fer the better, and sometimes fer the worse."

Her eyes softened. One hand came up to caress his face and brush back his hair. Then Lyla leaned closer, pulling him down until they were scarcely an inch apart, her breath fanning his face.

"I understand."

"Dae ye?" His voice was rough with building desire, and the need to take her in his arms and hold her close. The thick rug by the fire beckoned, and the thought of her, lying on the rug while he gave her pleasure, sent the blood surging toward his loins.

"Aye." Lyla pressed closer. "Because I'm in love with ye too."

Then her lips met his, and Daemon stopped thinking about the library, or their argument, as heat ignited in his blood, and desire chased all other thoughts away.

* * *

She hadn't intended to kiss Daemon, but the sincerity of his words, and the tone of his voice – she wanted him. She didn't want to be angry with him. She wanted to melt into his arms and show him that his feelings were fully reciprocated.

She'd meant the kiss to be gentle, but at the touch of her lips against his, heat surged through her. Daemon's arms tightened around her, and she felt his growing arousal, which in turn spurred her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his in a silent offering.

The heat from the fire seemed barely noticeable compared to the heat building inside her as Daemon laid her gently on the rug before the hearth, then began to remove his clothing. Lyla watched him, her heart beating faster as vest and sash and shirt were discarded, to leave him in naught but his kilt, standing before her.

Daemon's eyes were dark, the usual winter blue turning the color of the ocean depth with desire as he crouched beside her and gently began to undo the laces of her bodice. The belt at her waist was next, discarded with his clothing, and then Daemon began to caress her, his hands sliding over the curves of her shoulders, her breasts, her belly and her hips, and down the line of her thighs, all the way to her calves and ankles.

Lyla gasped as his hands slid slowly back up her legs, this time pushing her skirt up and baring her body to his gaze. Cool air kissed her flesh, in counterpoint to the fire's warmth and the heat building inside her, as well as the warmth of Daemon's hands. Every movement he made dragged callused palms and fingers across her body, leaving behind a tingling sensation that made her feel as if sparks lived under her skin.

Daemon's hands caressed her sex, fingers stroking through the soft curls, already damp with arousal. "Ye're so beautiful." His hands slid to her thighs. "Open yer legs fer me, Lyla. Let me see all o' thee."

She did as he asked, excitement and desire heating her blood and making her heart pound. His hands were gentle but firm as he held her legs apart, leaving her sex exposed to his hungry gaze. Then his head bent, and Lyla bit back a startled cry as his tongue stroked over her sex.

Again and again, Daemon licked her, his tongue seeking out and caressing every inch of her sex and teasing along the edges of the folds in a way that was maddening. She'd known from before that he could produce amazing sensations with his tongue, but that was nothing to the way he seemed to be devouring her now, licking her like a child might lick a sweet or a honeycomb.

Then his tongue dipped inside her to caress the inner folds, and swirled up to lave her pleasure center, and Lyla's back arched as the sensations sang through her, straight to her core. "Daemon!"

His tongue plunged deep, his thumbs teasing apart the outer lips of her sex to give him better access, as if he was trying to lap directly at her core. Lyla shivered, melting under his touch, feeling her climax rush toward her.

Then Daemon pulled back, and Lyla found herself whimpering in need. The absence of his mouth on her body made her ache, yearning for more.

Daemon undid his kilt and cast it aside, then lifted her hips to align with his erection. Lyla gasped as he entered her with one smooth, powerful thrust, sheathing himself to the hilt inside her.

He lowered her hips, then his body over hers. Every movement made his body shift inside hers, and Lyla shivered at each new wave of sensation.

"Ye taste so good. Dae ye ken that? Like honey and sweetest wine." Daemon bent to suckle on her breast, hips thrusting as he set the pace for their lovemaking. It was slow, steady and strong, and Lyla felt as if she was being swept away by a river of pleasure. A river that was Daemon's desire for her, his love for her and his enjoyment of her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as the two of them rocked together, lost in the heat that sparked between them.

The pleasure built again, winding tighter and carrying her higher. Lyla let herself go, and surrendered to the sensations. To the feel of Daemon's mouth on her breasts, the heat of his chest against her belly, and the wave of heat and pressure that came with each thrust of his manhood.

Everything built, like a hearth fire being coaxed into a bonfire. Lyla heard herself gasping as it built, keening as the sensations became almost unbearable. She felt as if she were lying in the sun, or on the sun.

The wave crested and crashed around her, and Lyla arched against Daemon, her body clenching around his member as her release swept her away. Daemon made a soft sound, like a groan, and stiffened as his own release claimed him and pumped his seed into her. Their bodies shuddered together, united in the wave of heat and light and joy that swept every thought away into a pleasant haze.