A Beautiful Lie (The Camaraes) (13 page)

Muira stood still, waiting for further instructs, when none appeared to be forth coming she bowed her head and crept over to the bed.  She slipping beneath the blanket, her heart hammering in her chest, and waited for her husband to come and join her.

..ooOOoo..

Lachlan had no intention of joining her
…
at least not in the way that Muira anticipated.  It had been one of the things he had decided while sitting up alone on the roof of Castle Cameron, although his resolve had been tested when he his young wife appeared before him in a nightdress that was virtually transparent and did nothing to conceal the generous curves that she possessed. 

Muira
’
s breasts were large and full, almost too big for her delicate little frame, her waist was tiny, but her hips flared out to balance the portrait.   Lachlan shifted uncomfortable, embarrassed by his body
’
s enthusiastic reaction to her appearance.  He ached to touch her, but he couldn
’
t, not yet. 

He listened to her shifting in the bed, or rather he didn
’
t- her stillness was telling, the way she hardly dared breathe.  Her fear, more than anything, kept Lachlan
’
s unsatisfied body rooted in his seat until, over an hour later, he heard the deep, steady rhythm of Muira
’
s breathing as she finally slept.

Lachlan pushed himself up out of the chair he
’
d been sitting in and wandered over to the bed.  He supposed that he could have stayed in his fireside seat and dozed there for the night, but it wasn
’
t the most comfortable of resting places for his large frame and his battered body craved the soft comfort of a proper mattress.  Besides, he didn
’
t see why he should make further allowances for his wife- she hadn
’
t made any for him.

However, he caught himself smiling as he watched her sleep.  He couldn
’
t deny that her beauty was entrancing, but Lachlan vowed that he was not going to be duped by a pretty face!  He moved back to the fire and put on a couple more logs to keep it burning until morning.  He extinguished the candles in the bedroom and padded back over to the other side of the bed, stripping off his clothes as he walked.

Muira hadn
’
t proved him with a nightshirt, and his kilt was too awkward to sleep in, so, after only the briefest pause, Lachlan dispensed with this last piece of clothing and crawled into bed, completely naked.  He sank bank against the pillows and yawned, but his eyes remained open, drifting lazily around the room, taking in the shadowy pieces of furniture until he was familiar with everything.

Lachlan glanced across the pillows at the back of his wife
’
s head.  The bed wasn
’
t overly large.  If he just turned onto his side it would be all too easy to spoon her back against his body.  Lachlan frowned in the dark and wondered from where that thought had crept.  He shut his eyes determinedly and willed himself to fall asleep.

He was prepared to toss and turn for hours, but the day
’
s events had apparently exhausted him more than he
’
d realised.  He fell asleep in a matter of moments, and didn
’
t wake again until he felt something warm brush against his foot.

“
Morag,
”
Lachlan murmured sleepily, reaching out an arm to hook around the curvy, female body lying by his side.  He rolled onto his back, and pulled the woman tight against his naked chest, buried his nose in the softness of her hair and breathed in deeply. 
Heather
…
but that wasn
’
t right
…
 

Lachlan cracked open an eye, and choked as everything that had happened the previous day came flooding back to him, memory after memory resurfaced, triggered by the sight of Muira Cameron
’
s-
MacRae
’
s
peaceful face pressed snugly against his chest as she continued to sleep.

Lachlan took a great gulping breath and tried to ease his body out from underneath hers, only to find that he was perilously close to the edge of the bed, and that Muira whimpered and cling tighter to him whenever he tried to disentangle their limbs. 

She was draped over him in the most provocative manner, lying atop him, her legs entwined with his, her breasts crushed against him, her hips pressing down on his own- and she kept wriggling.  Sweat beaded almost instantly on Lachlan
’
s naked skin as Muira subtly shifted her weight, trying to settle into the most comfortable position on top of his body.  He swallowed a groan as his cock stirred eagerly to life, challenging Muira further as she tried to arrange herself around his stiffening shaft.

Oh God, this was torture, Lachlan was nearly panting.  Muira
’
s thin nightdress was all that separated their flesh.  She felt
so
hot
.  He wondered madly, if he was to dip a hand under the fabric, if he would find her slick and wet?  His cock was keening towards her, twitching and pulsing
…
and then Muira
’
s leg slipped over the side of his hip, opening her body to him, and if he just shifted slightly, just hiked up her nightdress, then he could have her
…

However, as desperately as his body begged for release at Muira
’
s hands, Lachlan found that there was still a functioning portion of his brain- of his morality- that refused to take her in such a deceitful manner.  He clearly had to do something however.  Not being terribly mindful if he woke her now, Lachlan prised Muira off his body, and made an awkward dash for the little room where he had bathed the previous afternoon.

He shut the door behind him and sagged against it in relief, instantly grasping his painfully aroused cock and stroking to soothe his ragged need.  His skin was damp with sweat and a dribble of pre-cum as he bucked frantically into his hand, not even trying to restrain himself.  He wanted to lose himself in sensation
only
- the tightness of his gut, the huge pulsing rod of his cock, to keep Muria firmly
out
of his mind.

He couldn
’
t do it though, as his eyes rolled back in his head and breath came in quicker, shallower pants, she was
all
he could think about.  And he didn
’
t know why!  But the thought of her small, soft hands replacing his own, of having her milk his sex until he exploded seared through his brain, and that image was followed oh-so-closely but the imagined bliss of burying himself between her legs, he wanted to fuck her until he came. 

Lachlan couldn
’
t keep from groaning.  He wanted her.  He wanted to take her hard and furiously.  He wanted to snatch back ever scrap of control that she
’
d stolen from him.  He wanted her writhing beneath him.  He wanted her to beg.  His thighs started to tremble as he feverishly thought about it - filling her cunt with his cock, fucking her again and again, until she was sore, until she was brimming with his seed, until she understood that
she belonged to him
, and not the other way another
…
 

She belonged to him.

White-hot bliss sizzled through Lachlan
’
s veins at that thought, and he finally exploded, jetting his seed up against the opposite wall in pale, stringy spurts.  A low cry fled his lips and he milked every last morsel of pleasure from his release that he could, wanting to savour the pleasure, rather than reflect on the troubling thoughts that had raced through his intoxicated mind
…

..ooOOoo..

Muira stretched and slowly came awake.  She
’
d been having the most delicious dream, although now that she tried to recall it, she couldn
’
t quite remember what it had been about.  She sighed deeply burying her head in the pillows, too warm and comfy to care much about a half forgotten dream. 

She cared a little more about the low groan that suddenly met her ears however. 

Lachlan! 

Awaking more fully, and with a slight start, Muira quickly sat up.  She caught sight of Lachlan
’
s clothes, where they had been tossed over the back of a chair. 
All
of his clothes, she gulped nervously and sank down under the bedcovers again, and then also became aware that
both
sides of the bed were wrinkled and warm.

“
Oh my,
”
she squeaked breathlessly.  Had she- had he-?

Muira hid deeper under the covers as she heard a second, louder groan coming from the little washroom.  What was he all right?  What was he
doing
in there?  She wondered, but she didn
’
t have terribly long to dwell on it, because the door creaked open a few minutes later. 

Muira knew that it was cowardly, but she lay very still and feigned sleep anyway.  It was before dawn, so perhaps, if Lachlan thought her still asleep, he would leave her alone, and she could pretend for a few more hours that she wasn
’
t really married, that she wasn
’
t really leaving?

She took heart when Lachlan didn
’
t say anything to show that he knew she was awake, but then her heart seemed to clatter to stop when the mattress shifted and the blankets lifted.  Her eyes burst open, though fortunately she was turned away from Lachlan so he didn
’
t see.  His wasn
’
t going to- not with her- not naked!

But he most certainly
was
getting into bed beside her.

Lachlan gave a deep, contented sounding, sigh, and then shifted until he appeared to be comfortable.  Muira held her breath waiting to see wait would happen next.  She couldn
’
t understand the twinge of disappointed she felt when absolutely
nothing
happened next.  No hands reached for her, no body brushed against her own, she might have been in bed alone, but for the steady breathing she could hear behind her.