“Someone could see us,” she hissed, slapping at his back. He continued walking, ignoring all of her attempts at freedom. Fear was sitting in her chest, not only of being discovered, but of what he was going to do to her.

A sharp slap echoed in the hall, and she squealed, her bum stinging.

“Why did you hit me?!” she asked furiously, hitting him back.

“I told ye’, if ye’ speak, yer getting spanked. Now quiet, lass. Unless ye’ want more…”

She instantly quieted, but that didn’t stop her from pinching and hitting him in an attempt to be let go. He gave no indication that he noticed.

The corridor was dark, with only a couple candles lit. Even if someone saw them, they wouldn’t recognize anything but two dark figures—mayhap not even that. She pounded at his back, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. She had just come to the realization that she would actually be leaving Shaw lands, and he…He was destroying her resolution with no more than a command.

They came to a stop, then the door was thrown open. Her eyes didn’t have time to adjust to the dark before he was tossing her into the air. A scream built in her throat, and she braced herself for the pain of crashing into the wall or ground.

There wasn’t any pain. Her body landed on a downy surface, and she dug her nails into it, heart racing.

“Where did you bring me?” she asked, hating how thin her voice was. If the room hadn’t been silent, she doubt he would have heard her. Saeran lifted terrified eyes to Kane. He came to the edge of what she now knew was a bed. With a harsh movement that she could barely make out through the darkness, he unwound his plaid.

Saeran watched in complete silence as he became naked, with nothing but the shadows to cover him. Her mouth went dry. The panic that she should have felt was absent. All she could focus on was the hard planes of his body, the thick arms and chest, the trimmed hips. Her face flamed, and she looked up at him.

She could have melted from the need that was in his eyes. It was mixed with fury so intense that she felt it in her soul, but the desire in his eyes… It scorched her with its heat. She had dreamed about this happening. He might not be saying out loud what he had planned for her, but she knew without a doubt that he wanted to take her—and he was going to.

“My lord, please…I…you’re betrothed to Blaine now and you’ve cast me—”

“I donna want to talk about Blaine,” he snarled. He knelt on the bed. She scooted away, staring at him. She tried not to gaze at his length as he crawled toward her, his body as lithe and silent as a cat’s. Saeran had never seen anything like it. Perhaps her shock was the only reason she was still until he had her back pressed into the bed. His hands locked her wrists above her head.

Her breath caught when he leaned his head down to her neck. Why wasn’t she fighting this? Hadn’t he just commanded her to leave? Didn’t he hate her? Wasn’t he engaged to her own sister? Why was she letting this happen, when it was so clearly wrong? Tears stung her eyes—not from fear, but shame. Shame because she wanted this to happen. She wanted to be as close to him as she could be, before he banished her for good. This was her farewell to him…And she wasn’t going to fight her body’s response to him.

This was the one and only time she would ever get to experience this, whatever this was. But she knew that once she felt him, her body would accept no one else. Her heart began to race as pain welled inside of her.

“I canna let ye’ go,” he whispered against her neck, “until I’ve had ye’. I donna care if ye’ve shared yerself with another. I want ye’.” He pulled back, and she stared at him, confusion mingling with the pain.

“I have had no other, my lord,” she whispered, twisting her hands in his grip. He was unrelenting, pressing his body onto hers. Saeran stared at him through the dark, wishing he would look at her…

* * *

Kane wanted so badly to believe her lie, but he knew better. A woman would lie about anything, and Alice had proven herself to be just like every other woman with an agenda. Lying and conniving to meet her own goals.

The thought sat ill with him, so he pushed it aside. He was going to have her, and then she was leaving. Once she was out of his system, all of his problems would be over, and his conscience would be cleared.

Wouldn’t you kill your men for doing this to a woman? When have you ever gone this far with one, out of anger? Is Alice really as vindictive as you’ve made yourself think?

He shoved the thoughts into the back of his mind. He wanted her. It was that simple. He didn’t want or need anything else from her, except her body. She had betrayed him, lied to him. Had given herself to another male while working herself into his mind. Day and night, she was all he could think of, and she had gone to another man.

“Do no’ lie to me,” he bit out.

“But I am not—” Knowing she would only continue to deceive him, he leaned down, taking her mouth with his own. If she could not speak, she would not anger him anymore than she already had. As he stole the words out of her mouth with his kiss, it turned into more. Into what he had taken her here for in the first place.

With a growl of approval when her lips began to move against him, he wasted no time in reaching behind her, fumbling with the strings. When they resisted, he pulled away from the kiss just long enough to grip her dress by the bodice. He held her eyes.

The fabric tore under his hands. The aroused fear in her eyes made him grunt. Shoving aside the torn bodice, he finished the skirt off and cleared the bed of her clothing, taking satisfaction in the becoming blush that spread over her face, neck, and breasts. Seeing her like that, it was almost easy to believe that she was a virgin, that she had saved herself for him, for this moment.

“Gods, yer breasts are perfection,” he said quietly, reverently. He palmed one, ignoring her surprised gasp, and bit back a groan. Aye, perfection. They were round, full, and tipped with pink nipples. He took it between his thumb and forefinger, enjoying the way she squirmed under him. He remembered their first kiss in the field, the way she had blossomed like a flower under his touch.

Feeling his cock swell, he bent down, taking the nipple he’d been pinching into his mouth. She made another sound, this one keen, shocked. Always so shocked, like she didn’t expect the pleasure. He laved the soft flesh with his tongue, hardening it. He rolled it between his teeth and tongue, dying to touch her, to hear more of her, to taste more of her.

He let go of her wrists, using his now free hand to fondle her other breast, as his other slid down her stomach. He sucked hard, reveling in her moan, and gently brushed his fingers over the soft blonde curls.

Kane had planned to be rough. Angry, fast, and quick. He had planned to take her, get her out of his head, and then send her on her way. This was not angry, nor was it fast. His body was taking his time with her, no matter how much he wanted to take her. He wanted to give her pleasure, no matter how much she didn’t deserve it. He wanted to enjoy this, no matter how much he felt betrayed by her. He wanted her to enjoy this, no matter how much he hated his weakness.

“Kane…what—what are you doing to me?” she gasped. Tiny, greedy hands grabbed his shoulders. Her hands were hot enough to burn him. He felt her desire, her desperation. The fear she had felt earlier was gone, replaced by pleasure. He saw it in her crystalline eyes, in the flushed cheeks. Her lips were full and pink, begging to be kissed.

He gave one last tug to her nipple, then kissed his way up her chest. His finger brushed against her clit. She jerked against his body, wide eyes meeting his. He smiled despite himself.

“Do ye’ like that, lass?”

Her blonde curls moved as she nodded her head frantically. She broke his gaze by closing her eyes, head tilting backward. He pressed his thumb harder against her clit. Her nails dug into his shoulders so sharply, he swore they broke skin.

The biting pain only urged him to kiss her—so he did. He bent down, took her lips with his own, and dominated her with his mouth and hand. His loving of her body was gentle and slow, exactly how he hadn’t pictured this—and he was fine with that. Alice was acting like the virgin she claimed to be, and even if he knew it was a farce, he didn’t mind being fooled for this one instance.

“I want ye’ to touch me.” He couldn’t believe he said that—but he had. He felt her body stiffen under his, and his chest tightened, until she spoke.

“H…how do I…” She ran her hands over his shoulders and back, as if she were unsure of what to do with him. The uncertainty in her voice shook him. Mayhap she was not as experienced as he had suspected. Aye, she had given herself to another, but that did not mean she was an experienced harlot.

The realization both put him at ease and fired his desires.

“Like this.” He stole her lips for another kiss, simultaneously taking her hand and leading it to his cock. The first gentle touch of her fingers made him groan, all of the blood in his head dropping to his hips. God, the pleasure was instantaneous. Her movements were tentative, but gradually, she took the hint.

Her small hand wrapped around him, gently tugging. His whole body convulsed and he gasped, lungs robbed of breath. The pleasure of that one movement had…not killed him, but revived him in a way he couldn’t explain. Alice took her hand away, making him curse.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, face turning an even brighter red. Though he could tell she felt sorry, there was a spark of desire in her eyes that made him curse again. Without conscious thought, he took her hand and led it to his cock. Her thumb gently brushed his head. Alice met his eyes, a silent request for permission.

When he guided her fingers around his length and she swiped her finger over the dot of pre-cum, he could have wept from the pleasure of it. Taking another kiss from her, he dominated her mouth, letting his tongue sweep inside to taste the sweetness that was Alice. As he did that, reveling in her kiss and the innocence it held, he parted her nether lips with his thumb and forefinger. She tensed under him, but barely.

Her hips moved against his hand, begging him to carry out with what he was teasing her with. He held himself back, needing so badly to touch her, but even more so wanting to torture her, to bring her to the brink of pleasure, just to let her fall back down. That way, when she came for him, he would be the only one she remembered in the future…

* * *

Saeran was dying. Aye, it was true. As virginal and clueless as she was about what men and women did behind closed doors, Saeran was dying—to let him take her. As instinctual as breathing was, she wanted Kane to pleasure her, to let her pleasure him. She wanted to feel like the woman she was. She wanted to feel Kane.

And right now, she definitely was. She had never held a man’s member in her hands before, but now that she was… It was daunting and exhilarating at the same time. He was large and full in her hand. She didn’t want to look down at him for fear of shying away and ruining the moment, but her eyes strayed nonetheless as he pulled back from their kiss.

If she had been struggling for breath before, she was completely robbed of it now. The angry red skin was pulled tight. As she tentatively ran her thumb over the plump head, the tip of it wept. She met his eyes, desire coursing through her so painfully that it turned into a burning need to explore him further.

“Do ye’ want to touch me, lass?” He meant more than what she was now. Touch him—as in actually explore a man’s body, Kane’s body. She didn’t know whether it was a trick of his or not, but she took a leap of faith, nodding. There wasn’t an ounce of hate or anger in his gaze as he watched her. His gaze was intense, studying her, gauging her reaction.

When she began to fear that it was indeed a trick, he nodded, a smile curling his lips. He removed himself from her, laying back on the bed. She rolled onto her side, her breasts touching his ribs. He had lain right in the streak of moonlight that was cascading into the room, truly giving her a full view of him.

The sight of his body was shocking, terrifying, and thrilling. Saeran sat up, running her hands over his arm, wonder filling her—wonder and horror. God, how many wars must he have fought.

His body was covered with all shapes of scars. There were several of them that truly made her tremble. Though, she had known he was scarred because of the bare skin he revealed on a daily basis. What was hidden under the plaid was just as soul-shattering, and made him all the more real to her.

With trembling fingers, she softly ran her fingertips up his arm, to his chest. Another scar…and another, and another… She closed her eyes briefly, sending a prayer for him. How had he managed to survive for so long? Surely all of them had hurt…She opened her eyes, staring right into his, and put her hand over his heart.

It was pounding just as fiercely as hers was. It urged her on, gave her courage. At least she wasn’t the only one reacting to this passion… Of course, she knew that by the hardness that was resting between his legs. Her fingers itched to touch him again, to wrap around his thickness. She wanted to see him wither. She wanted to watch him lose himself because of her.

The longer she held his gaze, the more it felt that she was losing herself in him, and not the other way around. The flecks of green in his eyes were dark with his desire. It was entrancing, addictive. Heart in her throat, she followed what her body was telling her to do.

Saeran leaned down, her hands on either side of his head, and tentatively put her lips to his. Though he had accepted her moments before, she was terrified of being rejected, discarded. His moods were so fluctuant that she didn’t know what to expect from him—

Oh. Faster than she could blink, he tangled one hand in her hair, wrapped an arm around her waist, then dragged her on top of him. She spread her thighs over his hips as he swiftly opened her mouth with his own, his tongue brushing against her. The taste of him burned her senses, and all she could think about was him. About having him, taking him as her own.

There was no Blaine. There were no lies. There was no betrayal. All there was right now was Kane, Saeran, and their need for each other. The hand that had tangled in her hair slid out of it, going down her back, pressing her body harder against his. Her nipples brushed against his chest, and she shivered into the kiss.

He made a rough, almost laughing sound against her lips, then took her breast in his palm. Saeran could have cried when he broke the kiss. He was hot, masculine. Seeing him below her, knowing that she could make him forget himself with just a touch, empowered her. It also made her crave him. She reached between them, taking him into her palm as punishment.

His face went rigid.

“Fighting fire with fire only creates a greater flame,” he warned, right before a devilish look flashed in his eyes. Saeran didn’t know what to make of it until he was rolling her onto her back, his mouth around her nipple, and a soft pressure was beginning to form at her entrance.

They were right back where they had been in the beginning. She grabbed for his shoulders, forgetting all about their small game. Later. Later, she would take her revenge and give him the pleasure that she wanted to, without his interference. For now, however…

Saeran moaned, tendrils of fire curling along her skin. Tendrils of fire that he had created in an instant. He nipped, sucked, and laved her nipple, making her cry out at the shocking sensation. He had done it earlier, aye, but it was still different, still wonderful. His mouth was making love to her breast, and all she could do was try to keep herself together, even though she was falling apart at the seams.

Then she realized something. The pressure at her core was his fingers.

Saeran froze, fear welling inside of her.