“What dae ye think?” Gilchrist asked, holding Kyven’s gaze with his own. The way her hand was running up and down his arm, a comforting touch, was making such warmth spread through him that he surprisingly had no wish to return to the room where his brothers were.

Aye, I’ll stay with ye, Kyven.

“Live out that fantasy of yers,” he suggested. “Paint me.”

In the light of the candle he carried, he saw her eyes flicker. There was a glint of both mischief and happiness in them. She nodded.

He shifted her hand from his arm to his palm, then towed her through the room.

“What about yer brothers?” she asked after a minute of intimate silence.

“They’ll understand.” Gilchrist knew well enough that neither of his brothers would object to them not returning to the room. He could talk more tomorrow with them, but for now, it was late. He wanted to be alone with Kyven.

He led her through the castle, down familiar corridors that he had not walked in years. Little had changed. Far in the east wing, he brought the two of them to a stop outside a large cabinet. He placed the candle on a ledge nearby and opened the door.

“What’s this?” Kyven asked, doing her best to peer around his arm. “Paints!” She hurried around him and stepped into the cabinet.

It was quite large, big enough for a variety of shelves to be stacked on three walls and just big enough to allow Kyven to set a canvas she found on one of those shelves and stand back, peering in the candlelight.

“I used tae hide from the world in here when I was little,” Gilchrist confessed. She turned her head around him, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips. “I’d quite like tae hide again.”

He took the candle from the ledge nearby and carried it into the cabinet, shutting the door behind them. She laughed and hurried to pull out the paints.

“How dae ye want me?” he asked.

“Dinnae ask me tempting questions like that.”

“I tempt ye?” Gilchrist teased her, walking toward her.

Kyven bit her lip, blushing. She had blushed the night before too, when they had made love in the bath. Just the memory of it, the way her back had arched as he had entered her, or the way her hands had gripped his shoulders, made his body hard now for the want of her again. Would she moan his name in this cabinet? Would she cry out? Or maybe she would bite her lip again in the effort to hold in that sound and not be discovered?

“I want ye…” She turned to face him. The words made a pleasant shudder start deep within his abdomen. “Over here.” She took his arms and playfully steered him across the room until he was sat on a barrel in the corner. “Sit there and look…”

Gilchrist raised his eyebrows questioningly. She smiled a little more, making him wonder why he had agreed to painting at all when they could be doing something else.

“Just look at me,” Kyven pleaded, her voice turning a pleasant lighter tone.

She turned back to her canvas, finished preparing the paints, but didn’t start working on the canvas. She turned back again, yellow light falling on half of her face.

“Would ye…?”

“What?” he asked, encouraging her on.

“Would ye let me paint ye without clothes?” she asked.

Gilchrist chuckled, at first believing she was in jest, but she just continued to stare at him. His laughter faded. The idea seemed mad and wild, then he remembered where they were. Tucked away in this corner of the castle in a cabinet, no one would ever find them this late in the evening. They were alone, in their own world.

He untied the jerkin, slowly unfurling it from his shoulders. The shirt followed, as he dropped it to the ground, then he stood and pulled off his boots. Gilchrist was all too aware of the anticipation in the air and the way she stared at him, her hands tightening around the paint brushes.

He held her gaze as he reached for his trews and pulled them down next. Without a word, he sat down on the barrel again and waited for her to begin.

Kyven grinned, then turned to the canvas. He couldn’t see what she was drawing, but he saw her work fast. At all times, he watched her eyes and hand movements, the way her brushes darted fast across the canvas, and how her gaze drank in the sight of him. When she gazed at his chest and length, she bit her lip again, in that habit of hers. He nearly lost all restraint at that moment, tempted to tell her to abandon the paints and go warm him up.

“How can ye be hard now?” she said eventually in a playful whisper. “I am nae touching ye.”

“Ye are painting me,” he reminded her. “And we were alone.” It was enough to make his imagination run mad. She giggled lightly, her gaze most particularly on his length now. She seemed to be slowing in her painting. “How does it look?”

“It’s a good start. Tae get it right though I’ll need many hours.”

“More hours of being naked with ye, Kyven? As ye wish.”

She trembled, though it was clearly with an excited pleasure. She placed the paints down on the edge of a shelf nearby and moved toward him. He sat tall, feeling the tension in the air as she came so close.

“Next time, dae me a favor.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Move yer arm like this.” She adjusted his arm to the side, so his hand brushed the skirt of her gown. He toyed his fingers in the edge of that skirt, pulling her a little toward him. “That was nae the idea,” she said with a laugh.

“Ye come toward me and expect me tae behave?” He challenged her.

“I havenae finished yer portrait.”

“Ye can finish it another time.” He tugged on her skirt again, moving it aside now, so he could feel her bare leg. He reached out, brushing her temptingly down the inside of her thigh. Her lips parted and a breathy sound escaped her.

“Ye tempt me,” she whispered. “Ye always did. Ye seem tae have…” Her eyelids fluttered closed as he moved toward her. He placed a single kiss on the base of her throat, listening as she gasped. He moved his hand higher up her thigh again, getting closer and closer to her bare hip beneath the covering of her gown. “Power over me.”

“Power, eh?” Gilchrist murmured against her skin. His kisses traveled down her collarbone and toward the top of her gown. “Shall we test that power?”

Kyven didn’t say no. Another breathy moan escaped her as his fingers toyed outside of her. He passed them over her center, not quite touching her and indulging in pleasure, but teasing her with what they could do.

He stood up off the barrel, moving his hand to her hip beneath the gown. “Sit on the barrel,” he urged.

Her hands gripped his bare arms as they moved around one another. He lifted her to sit on the barrel as she was a little short to sit there herself. She bit her lip again. He bent over her, urging her to lean back against the wall behind her head. The two of them were panting now with the anticipation of what was to come.

Taking hold of her skirt, Gilchrist drew it up her legs and toward her hips, revealing her bare legs. One of those legs shuddered as he raised it up over his hip.

“Nae a word this time,” he whispered to her. “Nae a word, nae a sound, if we dinnae want tae be discovered.”

She nodded, her hands reaching out behind her. One palm gripped to a shelf nearby as the other flattened to the wall over her head.

It was surely forbidden, what they were doing now. Not just making love outside of the bounds of marriage but tucked away together in this cupboard. The illicitness of the moment somehow made Gilchrist harder still, determined to take her, but not yet. First, he wanted to watch her in her pleasure, to drink in the sight of her.

He moved his fingers from his hips to her center. With one hand, he held the inside of her thigh out, creating space for his body. His fingers moved down the length of her opening, teasing her, brushing back and forth. Her lips parted. Clearly, she wanted to moan, but when he reminded her not to, playfully dominating her, by pretending to glare at her, she clamped her lips together again, fighting a perfect smile.

He slid his fingers down a little, overwhelmed by the feeling of how wet she was for him already. Her leg shook beneath his grasp too. He slipped his fingers inside of her, his own lips parting at the sensation of how warm and wet she was. Her head tilted back against the wall, her eyes closing though her lips opened to make a perfect ‘o’ shape. No sound escaped her though.

“Look at me,” Gilchrist took a possessive hold on her chin and pierced her eyes, which only made his shaft get harder.

He decided to make it more difficult for Kyven, moving his fingers in and out of her at a faster pace now, seeing if she could stay quiet. Her hand gripped tighter to the shelf and her back arched in this strange but exciting position on the barrel, her eyes not leaving his. When he changed the angle of his hand, moving so his thumb was over that bud of nerves above her center, brushing it just once, their connected gaze got more intense and he moved his thumb again, firmer this time.

Those breathy sounds were impossible for her staunch. His length grew harder for wanting her and those noises.

“Ah…”

“Nae a sound,” he ordered, then bent over her, moving his lips toward her core. She shuddered even more, in clear excitement about what he was going to do. He kept his fingers inside of her, moving in and out, reaching deep, as his tongue stayed outside, pleasuring her. She lost the battle, starting to make sounds now. He held her thigh down harder, keeping her legs apart, basking in the warmth of those noises she made.

She was on the edge; he could feel it. Her head moved from side to side and her body writhed beneath his touch as much as it possibly could. He lifted his body from her, not quite ready yet to give her a release.

“Nay, why?” Her eyes opened, and she looked at him pleadingly, but he shook his head. He was in control of their pleasure, and what they were sharing was certainly not going to end just yet.

“Patience, my love,” he took hold of her hips and quickly lowered her back to the floor.

“Turn around,” he ordered. She did so, leaning her legs against the barrel as her hands planted themselves flat to the wall in front of her. “Brace yerself.”

She parted her legs, just a little, but enough to create a space for him. He reached beneath that skirt again, taking hold of her hips and urging her to lean forward. When her rear was on show, basked in the light of the candle, he bent down and playfully nipped the curve of her butt. She gasped in surprise, then shuddered, clearly still fighting that battle to stay quiet. When she was dithering, he moved his length toward her, nudging her entrance, teasing them both with the sensation.

Her back arched for wanting him. Gilchrist still held himself back, watching her and drinking in the sight. He had imagined them making love in so many ways, but each time they did, it was more exciting than he had thought possible.

He slid himself completely inside of her, watching as her hands turned white against the wall. She rocked back into him, clearly wanting more of this feeling.

He lost his control and suddenly entered her fast, repeatedly. The tempo he built up was so quick and full of need, he could feel her bracing herself indeed against that barrel, absorbing each thrust of his hips toward her.

Gilchrist tilted his head back, the better to watch all of her as he entered her, and to watch exactly what they were doing. Her body was always ready for him, wanting him, as he wanted her.

He ran his hands over her rear, squeezing a little, then gripping to her hips so he could move faster still. Kyven gasped all the more, now not knowing what to do with her hands. Sometimes she reached back with one toward him, gripping to his arm, other times it went to the barrel beneath her, then back to the wall. She was frantic in her pleasure, and the sounds could not be stopped now. They fell from her lips, an intoxicating sound that drove him mad.

He was coming close now, nearing his end. He dreamed of finishing inside of her, of the two of them reaching that climax together, but he could not do it. A small voice in the back of his mind told him the danger of it – he could not get the Lady of the McDougall’s with child when he might not be permitted to marry her. He would never do that to her.

Gilchrist held his pleasure back as much as he possibly could, fighting the overwhelming sensations, determined to see her reach her edge. Then it happened. She bucked back against him, breathy sounds escaping her as her hands planted flat to the wall in front of her.

“Oh…” She moaned as her body tightened around their connection.

It was tipping him toward his edge fast, the feeling of her tightening. He had to pull himself out. He only had to pump his length twice before he finished, releasing against the side of the barrel, catching her leg too with his seed as their grunts and groans filled the air.

They were both still breathing heavily, holding onto one another as they came down from their high.

“So much fer being quiet,” she said eventually, prompting him to laugh. He turned her around and sat her on the barrel again when her legs shook, unable to keep her standing.

“I love ye,” he said without hesitation, moving to capture her lips. She embraced him tight, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he stood between the gap of her legs. “Ye dinnae mind, dae ye? Being here, I mean. In the clan of Gregor, considering…”

What me father did.

He could not bring himself to say the words. He was still basking in the pleasure of what they had shared.

“I am happy tae be here,” she whispered against his chest. “Clan Gregor and ye are one in me mind now. I dinnae think I have ever felt so safe, anywhere before.”

Gilchrist held her tight, without any intention of letting her go to somewhere she didn’t feel safe again.

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