Chapter 19

Billie opened her eyes with a gasp. Cold sweat trickled down her temple and her heart rattled in her ribs, beating so fast that her chest ached. It was dark in the room; the same darkness that surrounded her in her dream, the same darkness that surrounded her when she was being kept captive.

She didn’t know when she had fallen asleep. Last she knew, she had been resting in bed with her back against the headboard, watching over Domnhall as he slept, tracking the rise and fall of his chest to make sure his breaths were strong and regular. At some point in the night, though, she must have fallen asleep, and that was when the dreams had come.

Next to her, Domnhall stirred. He sat up a little and squinted at her in the dark, the only light in the room coming from the few candles that were still lit and the orange embers of the fire.

“Billie?” he asked, voice rough with sleep. “What is it?”

Billie drew a shuddering breath, trying to calm herself. She plastered a smile onto her lips and wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, not yet trusting herself to speak.

“Naething,” she said. “I was only havin’ a nightmare. Go back tae sleep.”

It wasn’t surprising to Billie when Domnhall didn’t do as he was told and instead sat up straighter to wrap an arm around her shoulders. He pulled her closer and Billie settled against his chest with a sigh, the terror slowly leaving her body, allowing her muscles to relax once more.

“Forgive me,” she said. “I didnae mean tae wake ye.”

“There is naething tae forgive,” Domnhall assured her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Dinnae fash. It was only a dream.”

It wasnae only a dream. It was real.

It was the same feeling when Ferguson had taken her. She still remembered how powerless she had felt in those moments, like she was only drifting through a tide. Billie couldn’t help but wish she were stronger. She doubted that even a man like Domnhall would stand much of a chance against so many on his own, but it would give her some comfort, knowing she could at least fight.

But she hadn’t been raised to fight. She had been raised to read and embroider and paint, which all seemed utterly useless now.

Domnhall threaded his fingers through Billie’s hair and rocked her gently back and forth to soothe her. “I’ll never let anythin’ happen tae ye. I promise.”

It wasn’t so much the words that reassured Billie as the gesture. It brought to the surface a memory she had long forgotten, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself as she snuggled closer to Domnhall.

“Evangeline used tae dae this fer me when I was a bairn,” she said, letting her eyes fall shut with a soft sigh. “Every time I was ill or frightened, she would rock me back tae sleep.”

“Evangeline?” Domnhall asked. “Nae yer maither?”

The death of her mother hadn’t had the same on Billie as it had had on Evangeline and Keira, for they had known her more and remembered her. Though it saddened her to think about her, it was also sweet to talk about her, to keep her memory alive.

“Me maither passed when I was only two,” she said in a quiet voice. “Abigail’s birth was very difficult an’… me maither didnae survive it.”

Domnhall consoled her with a kiss to her forehead, tightening his hold on her a little. “I’m sorry ye didnae have the chance tae ken her.”

Billie nodded. She, too, wished she could at least remember something, anything of her, but no matter how much she tried, those early childhood memories were long gone.

“Me faither never married another woman,” Billie said. “He loved our maither too much. An’ ever since her death, Evangeline took care o’ the rest o’ us like a maither. But Abigail… she will never forgive herself fer our mother’s death, though nae one in the family blames her fer it.”

“She blames herself?” Domnhall asked, surprised. “She seems like such a cheerful lass. I would have never thought she carried such a burden.”

“Och, aye. She blames herself fer many things,” Billie said. “When we were bairns, Keira saved her from a fire an’ ever since, her hands… they are covered in painful scars. She never allowed anyone tae see them but now, since she met Cormac, she sometimes takes the gloves off. It’s Abigail who regrets the past. I think she is so cheerful all the time so we dinnae have reason tae fash, but I am always concerned about her. I wish she could forgive herself.”

Domnhall was quiet for a long time before he spoke once more. “It can be difficult tae forgive oneself. I certainly blame meself fer failin’ tae protect me maither sooner.”

Though Billie wasn’t surprised to hear that, she still wished she could make Domnhall see it wasn’t his fault, just as she wished she could show Abigail none of what had happened was hers. She sat up a little, bracing herself on Domnhall’s chest and pinned him with a serious look.

“I promise ye it wasnae yer fault,” she said. “Though I ken ye willnae believe me.”

In the dark, Domnhall smiled at her. “Perhaps I willnae, but it’s nice tae hear ye say it.”

Pulling her closer, Domnhall captured Billie’s lips into a kiss. Billie leaned into it, her hand brushing over Domnhall’s chest, and it didn’t take long for the kiss to turn heated. With his hands on her hips, Domnhall moved Billie onto his lap, her legs on each side of his hips, her body barely concealed in her night garments. She was glad for the darkness which hid the flush on her cheeks, but she was also certain Domnhall could feel the heat of her body as he slid his hands under her shift, eager to touch bare skin.

His hands came to settle on her rear, digging into her soft flesh as they kissed. Billie moaned softly at the touch, the sound turning high and keening when Domnhall used his grip on her to urge her to roll her hips, a jolt of pleasure coursing through her body. Billie would have never guessed how easy it would be for Domnhall to get her in such a state, so desperate and needy for his touch, for the pleasure his body could give her.

“Let me see ye,” Domnhall said as he began to lift Billie’s shift off her. The soft fabric brushed gently against her skin, her breasts, her nipples, drawing a gasp out of her. Once she was naked, Domnhall’s hands followed the same path, caressing her skin and then cupping her breasts, his thumbs rolling over her hardened nipples. “Ye’re a vision, mo ghraidh. I wish I could look at ye always like this… yer breasts, yer waist… yer cleft.”

As he spoke, Domnhall dragged his fingers down her body, punctuating each word with a gentle touch until he finally found her entrance. He only teased her, running the pads of his fingers over her sensitive flesh in a maddeningly slow rhythm, coaxing more wetness out of her. Billie chased her pleasure, moving over his hand, her back arching as she tried to entice him into finally entering her.

Domnhall seemed to have other ideas, though, and he was more than happy to simply tease her, drawing out both her pleasure and her frustration. Billie soon realized that if she wanted him to take her, she had to drive him mad with desire, as well.

She began to undress him with trembling hands, trying her best to hide her nervousness. It was far from an easy task; she was still inexperienced and as much as she wanted to please Domnhall, she had only the vaguest idea of how to go about it. He was happy to indulge her, though, helping her undress him until he, too, was nude, his manhood hard and straining against his stomach.

For a few moments, Billie couldn’t take her eyes off him, and only when he chuckled, amused by the trance in which she had fallen, did she lean in for another kiss. This one was slow, sensual, Domnhall dragging the tip of his tongue over Billie’s lips. When she pulled back, she scattered kisses down his jaw and neck instead as she ran her nails gently over his chest and stomach.

Domnhall groaned at the sensation, lifting his hips in search of something to press against, but Billie pushed him back down. If he wanted to tease her, he had to know there would be consequences.

She gave him a devious smile as she pressed a kiss low on his stomach, right next to the tip of his manhood. Domnhall returned the smile, partly amused and partly intrigued as he watched her.

Abigail had told Billie about several acts. They had always seemed strange to Billie, but now, with Domnhall in bed with her, she could understand the appeal. She wanted to please him, too, and so she recalled everything she knew about pleasing a man, all the stories she had heard.

Wrapping a hand around his length, Billie stroked him slowly, closely observing Domnhall’s reactions to see what he liked best. He moaned softly, his legs falling a little wider, his stomach tensing with the effort it took to keep himself still. It didn’t take Billie long to see how much power she had over him, how much she affected him, and it gave her confidence to know he wanted her this much.

After a moment of hesitation, she leaned closer and dragged her tongue over his length. A broken moan escaped Domnhall’s lips, and his hand flew to Billie’s hair, fingers carding through the strands. When she reached the tip, she sucked him into her mouth and Domnhall’s other hand reached for the headboard, holding onto it so tightly that the wood began to creak.

“That’s it, lass,” he said between panting breaths. “Can ye… can ye take it deeper?”

Billie was nothing if not determined, and she gave Domnhall what he wanted, sliding her lips over his length. She took him as deep as she could, stroking the rest of his length with her hand, eager to draw more of those sounds from him. Domnhall guided her gently, showing her how to pleasure him, but he never let her take him as deep as they both wanted. It was only when Billie batted his hand away that she could finally take almost all of him in her mouth and Domnhall groaned, his entire body spasming with pleasure.

He stopped her before she could do it again and pulled her up, much to her surprise and disappointment. Domnhall must have noticed it on her face, as he said, “I wouldnae have lasted if ye kept doin’ that. Come, I wish tae be inside ye.”

Billie crawled up Domnhall’s body, returning the kiss he gave her. He ran his fingers down her spine, the touch so light it was almost ticklish, then down her rear, until he found her opening once more. Two of his fingers plunged inside her without warning, and Billie gasped, the pleasure so sudden and intense, made only bigger by the groan Domnhall buried in her neck.

“Are ye so wet because ye had me in yer mouth?” he asked. Billie blushed furiously and tried to hide it in his shoulder, but Domnhall would have none of it. He cupped her cheek and made her face him as he pumped his fingers inside her, his pupils blown wide with desire. “I get very excited when I pleasure ye with me mouth. I love yer taste… I love how ye moan fer me, how yer body opens up tae me touch.”

Billie’s moans were so loud and unbridled that she worried someone would hear, but she couldn’t stop. She needed more, more than his fingers and his words, anything to release the tension building inside her.

“Please, Domnhall,” she said. “Please.”

“What dae ye want?” he asked, still teasing her despite her pleas.

“I want ye,” Billie said. “I want ye inside me.”

“I’m all yers, mo ghraidh.” His words were barely a whisper, his heavy breaths almost eclipsing them. “Take what ye want from me.”

As he spoke, Domnhall removed his fingers and held onto Billie’s hips with both hands. Though she was apprehensive at first, expecting Domnhall to take the lead, she eventually reached between them and took him in her hand to guide his length between her folds. She sank onto him slowly, both their breaths cut short as he entered her, the air releasing from their lungs only when he was seated fully inside her.

Billie loved how full she felt, how completely claimed. But this time, it felt as though she, too, were claiming Domnhall, making him hers and hers alone.

At first, Domnhall guided her hips, but soon enough, Billie let go. She braced her hands onto his shoulders and moved instinctively, rolling her hips and discovering what felt good for them both. When she leaned back, his manhood brushed a spot inside her that had fireworks exploding behind her eyelids, and she chased that feeling again and again, bouncing on his lap with abandon.

“Yer so bonnie like this,” Domnhall said, his tone almost reverent. His gaze was hungry as he watched her, moving back and forth between her face, her expression painted with ecstasy, and her breasts swinging with every movement she made. “That’s it… ye dinnae ken how good ye feel, Billie. So tight, so hot, so?—”

Before Domnhall could finish his sentence, Billie reached her climax with a scream, his words and the feel of him inside her bringing her over the edge. Her entire body shook with the pleasure that exploded through her, her hips stuttering as she rolled them a few more times, riding through her orgasm.

Domnhall was close behind, his fingers digging deep into her flesh as he came with a strangled moan, pushing his hips up to bury himself deep inside her. For a few moments, neither of them could move, simply staying there, heaving. Sweat coated their bodies, but when Billie finally moved, stretching over Domnhall as he wrapped his arms around her, she didn’t care.

Silence stretched between them, until Billie tilted her head up to look at Domnhall, laughing softly. “Ye have a filthy mouth.”

Domnhall chuckled, his eyes closed as he stroked her back, his touch light and gentle. “Forgive me. Ye make me mad with desire. All I ever wish tae dae is tae touch ye an’ kiss ye an’ fill ye with me?—”

Billie silenced him with a kiss, the two of them laughing against each other’s lips.