Her sounds were like a sweet melody to his ears. He drowned in her essence, her scent, loving every part of it and wanting to taste more of her.
Lily cried out when he pushed the rest of her undergarments away, exposing her lower half fully to him.
“Killian,” she cried out in a deliciously low tone just before she convulsed and climaxed in his arms, griding her hips against his mouth.
Killian panted as he withdrew from her. His body had hardened considerably, so much that it had begun to hurt, but his release wasn’t what he wanted at that moment. What he wanted—needed—was to pleasure her.
Lily lay limp on the bed, breathing heavily when he moved up to lie at her side and turn her body to face him. Her full lashes still covered her eyes, and he gathered her into his arms, gently pushing down the sleeves of her chemise so he could touch her breasts.
Her nipples were erect, begging for his attention. He kissed her mounds, cupped one in his right hand, and lowered his lips to her perky nipple.
He gathered her closer to him, his hands snaking around her waist to hold her in place while he feasted on her breasts till she was moaning and shivering in his arms again.
This time when he touched her core again, she was moist and ready for him. Killian slid one finger inside her, stroked her walls slowly till her legs parted of their own volition, then he withdrew when she gasped, and repeated the act again.
Her pleasure was enough to satiate his soul, but it didn’t last for long. Killian watched her sleep after she peaked the second time. He stroked a hand over her cheeks and hair, kissed every inch of her face till she stirred in her sleep, then pulled the sheets around her body and gathered her close.
She was delicate in his arms, and the urge to protect her slashed through him with an intensity that left him reeling. The only thing he could think of was finding the person behind all of this once and for all.
If Laird McLennan is innocent, then who could it be?
By the afternoon of the next day, Lily came out of the cabin to join Killian and the rest of his men at the village’s largest field. Wehnthor was the smallest of his three villages, and Killian realized that the people here were more traditional than most of the clansmen he had met in his time as laird.
Even in the midst of their anguish and suffering, they prepared for the Lammas festival. He saw Lily approach while speaking with Fletcher and the village head. He instantly frowned when she stopped to greet the children playing around the path.
“I ordered ye nae to leave the cabin,” Killian said when she finally reached him.
The smile on her lips reached her eyes. There was also a lovely flush on her cheeks today. Seeing it reminded Killian of what they had spent the night doing. His body hardened in response to that thought, and he tried to shut out the thoughts.
Kiss me…
That murmur had replayed itself in his head the entire night, making him wish he had taken her right there.
“I feel much better today,” Lily said, interrupting his scandalous thoughts. He drew his gaze back to hers, searched her eyes a little, and frowned. “You cannot keep me locked in the cabin forever. I told you I wanted to help you and your people. I cannot do that if I am locked away in a cabin.”
“Lily…”
“She is right, m’laird,” Fletcher interrupted before Killian could say anything else to her. “She kens Laird McLennan better than any of us does. She will be of help to us in our plan.”
“There is a plan?” Lily asked.
Killian sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He wanted to keep Lily out of this as much as possible. He did not want to put her in harm’s way again.
Nearly losing her once is enough.
He knew now that his heart could not take the pain of seeing her get hurt because of him again.
“The villagers want to celebrate the upcomin’ Lammas. It is only in two days, and I shall help them celebrate and enjoy it before we begin thinkin’ of our troubles again. Periods like this should always be celebrated, nay matter what.”
“I agree,” Lily told him with a smile. “In England, we celebrate the harvest and New Year. And Laird McLennan always declares a feast at such times.”
She beamed as she spoke of Laird McLennan, and Killian found himself wondering if she would ever smile when she spoke of him too.
“Come, I will show ye,” Killian said to her, completely forgetting about Fletcher and the village head as he led her away.
They strolled around the fields for a long time, and Killian told her tales about Lammas feasts and how his people celebratedin a grand style. They passed a group of children and mothers building twigs while the men gathered wood to set a general fire.
“So, Lammas is not the real harvest?” Lily asked after listening to him for a while.
