Sister of Rogues (27 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Breeding

Tags: #Rogue;Highland;Regency;Scotland;Ireland;Irish;Scottish

BOOK: Sister of Rogues
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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kier had done it. He'd convinced Fiona to return to Dublin with him. For a while yesterday afternoon, he had not been sure. Fiona had requested time to think and Father O'Brien had allowed him and Aiden only five minutes each to plead their cases with Fiona privately. Kier certainly did not want to propose marriage in so short a time. He was pretty sure women didn't want to be
told
they were getting married. So he'd used his time to swear to her on everything he held sacred, including his mother's grave, that Fiona would not be returning as an inmate of the asylum. As an earl—albeit a poor one—his title still could be used to persuade the warden to release Fiona into his custody until Walter Avery, whoever he was, could be found. Kier had given his oath to her that he would replace Ada and Seamus with kinder custodians as well. At the mention of those two, Fiona's eyes had swelled with tears and she'd asked about Dulcee and Lona.

Kier wasn't sure if promising a better life for the women had been the deciding factor for Fiona, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was she had finally approached Father O'Brien late in the afternoon—after he and Aiden had sat for several hours glaring at each other—with her choice. Partly because she was concerned over Aiden's intentions, she would return to Dublin.

It seemed to Kier he was the lesser of two evils. Now all he had to do was explain about the marriage as soon as he got the chance.

Since they'd missed the coach yesterday, Fiona had spent the night safely ensconced in a guest room at the parish while he'd taken a room at the local inn. They'd broken their fast that morning in the public room along with two rather inquisitive ladies who were also going to Dublin, so conversation had been limited.

“I am Inna,” the older woman said once they were settled in the carriage, “and this is my daughter, Maureen.”

“I am Kier and this is Fiona.”

Inna looked at him expectedly. From the rather prudish set of her mouth, he knew she was waiting for more. “My wife.” He hoped the women wouldn't notice the startled look Fiona gave him. He wished he could tell her it would be a fact soon enough.

“I see.” Inna looked over Fiona. “Ye look awfully young. I can't imagine ye are much older than my Maureen.”

The younger girl smiled shyly. “I am four-and-ten.”

Fiona smiled at her. “I am a bit older. Eight-and-ten.”

“Hmmm.” Inna looked at Fiona's hands, which thankfully were gloved. “How long have you been married?”

“Uh—”

“Actually, we just got married last week,” Kier said and put an arm around Fiona's shoulders to draw her closer. “We took a short trip to Cobh to celebrate.”

“I see,” Inna said again, looking skeptical.

Apparently, Fiona decided to play along because she snuggled closer. Her soft breast pressed against his side sent blood pulsing to his groin, but it was nowhere near the jolt he felt when Fiona rested one hand on his thigh. She gave him an innocent look as though she had no idea what affect her touch had so close to his swelling shaft.

“The idea of marriage is so new to me,” Fiona said to the woman. “I am still getting used to it.”

God in heaven. Fiona actually managed to blush when she said it. The idea that she could be saying those words for real in just a few days made Kier stifle a groan as his cock swelled farther. Fiona's fingers shifted and he grabbed her hand before it could inflict further damage.

Maureen was looking at him wide-eyed. For a moment, he thought she might have noticed the bulge in his pants, but then he remembered he was wearing a frockcoat that thankfully covered the area. By Saint Patrick, Fiona addled his brains. He couldn't even remember what he wore? He felt an even greater fool for holding Fiona's hand in the air as though it were something to be inspected. No wonder the girl was watching him. Quickly, he brought Fiona's hand to his mouth and swept a kiss across her gloved knuckles. Another mistake, since now he wanted to feel her bare skin beneath his lips. And not just the flesh of her hand…

Fiona gasped slightly, which caused her breasts to rise beneath the thin linen of her plain gown. Luckily, the neckline of the dress was quite proper and no hint of cleavage showed. Kier wasn't sure he'd be able to handle that right now with the direction his thoughts had taken.

Kier shook his head to clear it, which was hard to do since he was still grasping Fiona's hand to keep it from straying to parts best left untouched in the presence of Inna and Maureen. He didn't really understand what had gotten into him. Lady Jane Claire had never brought forth the kind of reactions he had when he was around Fiona—and Lady Jane Claire had allowed him use of her body.

Fiona squeezed his hand just then and gave him a smile that made his blood heat even more. Demurely, she looked down and then tilted her head sideways so she could gaze at him through her lashes.

The minx was flirting with him. Flirting when she knew he couldn't respond. Not that it wasn't what he deserved since he'd said they were newlyweds. Again, he envied the husband who—even for a short time—had enjoyed her in his bed. Soon Kier would have that privilege as well. Soon she would truly be his wife. Nothing would separate them again.

He was still lost in those pleasant thoughts when the carriage pulled into the inn at Waterford for the night. The coachman jumped down to open the door and escort the mother and daughter into the inn. Kier stepped out and lifted Fiona down, his hands encircling her small waist. He was half-inclined to pick her up and carry her since his fingers didn't want to seem to let go, but Fiona made the decision for him, stepping away. She smoothed her skirt and then took the arm he offered her.

It was only when they were inside and the innkeeper assigned them a room together that Kier realized he was in for a long night of agony.

She should never have flirted with hm. Several hours had passed since their interchange in the carriage and still her body felt as though it were on fire. Not even the tepid water sent up for her hipbath had squelched the heat radiating through her, although the long soak had felt heavenly.

Kier had disappeared shortly after their arrival, and Fiona thought by the time he returned to escort her down to the main room for dinner, her equilibrium would have returned. Not so. Kier had come back freshly shaven and smelling of soap and spice. The blue glint of his dark eyes when he'd looked at her loose hair cascading down her back had only alerted every nerve ending to start tingling again.

Dinner could have been sawdust and mud for all she could remember. She wasn't even sure if she ate. They were alone now, with nothing left to do but go to bed.

Fiona glanced over at the structure. It looked soft and inviting, the mattress and pillows plump with feathers, and it certainly was big enough for two.

Kier followed her gaze. “You can have the bed. I will sleep by the hearth.”

Fiona glanced over to the fireplace. “The floor is stone.”

He shrugged. “I have had worse.”

“But the bed is big enough for two.” As soon as the words were out, Fiona felt herself blush. It was on thing to flirt a little in the carriage, but she sounded like a complete wanton. “I mean—”

“The floor will be fine,” Kier said. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about our return to Dublin.”

Fiona frowned. She didn't want to hear about Dublin right now. Even if Kier had assured her Ada would no longer control her, she would still be an inmate. “Let's nae talk tonight.”

“But—”

“'Tis enough time tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Nae. Let us sleep.”

Kier stared at her and then finally nodded. “As you wish.” He removed his boots and then laid his frockcoat on the floor by the fire.

“Ye cannae lie on the floor.”

“I will be fine.”

Fiona opened her mouth and then closed it, feeling her face warm with embarrassment. “Ye doona want to share the bed with me.”


Christ
.”

She looked at him, trying to will away the sting of tears. She had been silly to think he might want to hold her and kiss her again. “'Tis all right if ye donna wish it.”


Christ
.” Kier moved so swiftly he was only a blur in the dim light from the low-banked hearth. “Holy Mother of God, forgive me.”

He swooped Fiona up and deposited her on the bed so abruptly she scarcely had time to catch a breath between the movements. And then his weight was on top of her as he claimed her mouth.

Fiona's mind reeled as all her senses came to life at once. The fresh scent of him, the delicious taste of his tongue penetrating her mouth, the feel of his silky hair swishing the sides of her face, the look of smoldering desire in his eyes and the sound of something not quite human—but that may have been coming from her. She didn't know.

The length of his hard, muscular body against hers pressing her down into the soft fluff of feathers made her body respond without any help from her befuddled brain. Fiona arched her back, wanting more friction for her achy nipples. Kier moaned and she heard a ripping sound, followed by the feel of cool air fanning her exposed breasts. The cool was replaced with the heat of his mouth as he closed it over one enticing bud and Fiona gasped as he began to suckle. The sensation was exquisite and she mewled softly as his palm began to knead her other breast while he rolled its tip between finger and thumb.

Fiona grasped Kier's shoulders, tugging at his shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin. With a stifled groan, he ceased sucking and sat up to pull his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. A moment later, his trews followed, and Fiona had only a glimpse of the huge, hard protrusion jutting from a nest of inky curls before he bent over her.

Good God in heaven. How was
that
going to fit inside her?

Logic took flight again as Kier resumed his ministrations to her breasts. Never in her wildest imaginings—or naughty conversations with Mari and Abigail—had she ever thought her breasts could be so sensitive. Kier was teasing her now, circling an aureole slowly and then flicking his tongue across the hardened nipple. Fiona arched again, silently begging for him to suck and fill the achy need, but he merely blew air across the wet tip, the coolness of it causing a rippling quiver all the way to her belly.

Kier chuckled before turning to torment the other breast in the same manner. “I knew you would be responsive. I just didn't realize how much.”


Arrgh
.” She'd meant to form a word, but speech seemed to elude her. Instead, she clutched his head, pulling it down against her. He laughed and then closed his mouth on her breast, bringing blessed relief as he drew hard and deep.

Lost as she was in the erotic pull of his mouth alternating between her breasts, Fiona hardly noticed as Kier's hands tugged her torn gown down. It wasn't until he lifted his mouth and she felt his tongue gliding along the flesh of her belly that she realized she was totally naked. Instinct made her draw her knees together, but a hand on her thigh stopped the motion.

“Do not be shy now, lovely Fiona,” Kier whispered as he shifted his body and spread her thighs. “The best is yet to come.”

Fiona tried to sit upright as his tongue slid between her folds and he began slow, sensual licks upward, but his hands were holding her bottom half down, his shoulders keeping her legs apart. She shuddered as a pulsation began there that made the suckling of her breasts something akin to a kiss on the cheek. The pulsing grew stronger like a drummer's roll as Kier teased her hard, little nub with the tip of his tongue, alternating flattening it to increase the pressure and then easing, abandoning it to nibble the soft insides of her thighs. Fiona twisted, raising her hips as much as she could, her whole core throbbing now with want. She heard his soft chuckle again and then Kier attached his mouth to her bud, sending the throbbing into a hard, hammering beat that matched her heat and her mind went blank as her entire body thrummed in accord to the explosion between her thighs.

She barely had time to regain her breath when Kier shifted again, aligning his body to hers. She felt the round, satiny head of his manhood prod her very center and then she was being stretched and filled as Kier thrust deep.

Fiona stiffened, clenching her teeth to hold the pain in check. It seared through her like a knife held into flames. Above her, Kier stilled.

He looked at her in shock. “You are a virgin?”

Her breathing shuttered, almost returning to normal as the pain began to subside. She nodded. She could feel Kier's thickness inside her, but it wasn't hurting as much. “I told ye I was nae married.”

“May God forgive me.” Kier started to withdraw, but Fiona grabbed his waist. He gave her a startled look. “You…you want to continue?”

She nodded again, giving him a small smile. He hesitated and then began a gentle, slow thrusting. Fiona picked up the rhythm to his strokes as the pain receded and was replaced by a new ache, this one more of need. The inner throbbing began anew, building in strength, causing a ripple of spasms along her core as Kier's tempo changed, becoming faster and deeper. Fiona's lower belly thrummed, her legs quivered, her breathing grew shallow and then her body shattered. Kier plunged hard one more time and then withdrew, splurting something hot and wet across her stomach.

He rolled onto his back, tucking his arm under her shoulders and bringing her closer to him, stroking her hair but not speaking.

He didn't have to. Fiona nestled her head on his shoulder contentedly. She finally knew what Mari and Abigail had been talking about.

Jesu!
What had he been thinking? Kier grimaced as he slipped out from under the covers the next morning and dressed quietly. He hadn't been thinking at all, at least not with the head attached to his shoulders.

He glanced back at the bed before he let himself out the door. Fiona slept like a bairn, maybe because she was finally exhausted. She'd awakened him three times during the night, her soft touch arousing him before he was even conscious. Each time, he'd taken her. Each time, she'd responded eagerly. Each time had been better than the last.

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