At first, the Buchanan merely kissed her, his lips and tongue dancing with hers, his head slanting one way and then the other, until she was moaning and pressing even closer, her arms creeping around his shoulders.
Evina wasn’t sure afterward if he lifted her into his lap, or she crawled there herself; she just knew she was desperate to be closer to him and suddenly was. Straddling him on the furs, she ran her hands into his hair, and kissed him desperately, and then gasped into his mouth when he clasped her bottom through the cloth of her gown and shifted her closer, until his hardness was pressing where it could do the most good.
Holding her tightly there with one hand, the Buchanan suddenly let his other drift up to cover one breast. Evina moaned with pleasure in response, and arched eagerly into the caress even as his hand urged her tighter against his hardness.
“Aye,” the Buchanan growled as he tore his mouth away, and then he pressed kisses across her cheek to her neck, and Evina gasped and tilted her head. She felt him tugging at the neckline of her gown, and the next thing she knew the cloth suddenly fell away, leaving her breasts bare. Some part of her mind was shocked, but then his cool hand closed over the warm flesh of one breast and Evina couldn’t stop her moan of pleasure.
The Buchanan nipped at her neck in response, and then urged her back slightly. Evina glanced down then, and bit her lip as she saw the darker skin of his suntanned hand on the lily-white skin of the breast he’d bared. Her gaze shifted when he then tugged the top of her gown lower to reveal the second breast, and she instinctively arched, her lower body rubbing against his as he claimed that breast with his other hand too.
“Beautiful,” he growled, squeezing and massaging her flesh until her nipples tightened to two hard points. He then bent his head and claimed one of those points, drawing it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue until she was writhing in his lap.
“M’lord, please,” she gasped, her nails digging into the tops of his shoulders. Evina had no idea what she was begging for until one of his hands dropped away and down, only to slide up under her skirts. She was vaguely aware of it drifting up her thigh, but there was so much going on she wasn’t really sure of what he was doing until his fingers glided across the damp flesh at her core.
Evina cried out in shock and froze, until his fingers began to circle and move back and forth over an area that had never been touched before. She began to shake and shudder then, her body responding despite her shock, and then her hips began to move, her body chasing his teasing caress and the mounting excitement building in her.
She was vaguely aware of crying out, and murmuring insensible nonsense, but mostly she was clutching his shoulders, and striving toward something she didn’t understand. And then he nipped lightly at the nipple he’d been laving, and something pushed up into her, breaking some tiny thread of need and making her scream and shudder and clench around his hand as her body began to convulse. That’s when he removed his hand, clasped her hips to shift her slightly and brought her down so that something much larger than his fingers pushed up into her, splitting her in half.
Evina’s pleasure ended on a startled shriek of pain, and her eyes opened in shock as she realized what had just happened. He was inside of her. He’d taken her maiden’s veil. How had it happened? How could it have been so easy and fast? All he’d done was kiss and touch her. She still had her gown on, for heaven’s sake. And he wore his plaid. It shouldn’t be this easy.
She was awash with so much shock and confusion that it took Evina a moment to realize that she wasn’t the only one who had stilled. The Buchanan too had frozen and, after a moment, pulled back slightly, leaning his upper body away from hers. Aware that he was looking at her, Evina forced her eyes open, and met his gaze.
“But ye were married,” he said with amazement.
Evina merely stared at him, incapable of explaining anything just then. She’d just lost her innocence. She was still perched on his cock, for God’s sake. And all that pleasure she’d chased and so briefly enjoyed was completely gone now, replaced with confusion, fear and regret. Not to mention a sharp pain between her legs that was most unpleasant.
“Ye’re shaking,” he muttered, suddenly with concern. “Do no’ cry. ’Tis all right.”
Evina blinked, realizing only then that yes, indeed, tears were leaking from her eyes. And she was trembling. Good Lord, she never cried, and this was certainly no time to act like a ninny, she told herself grimly. So, she’d lost her innocence? She hadn’t been saving it for anyone anyway, Evina reminded herself. She’d already been married and widowed, and her father had promised she could remain unwed and run Maclean until her dying days and then leave it to Gavin. That was the plan.
This was fine, Evina assured herself. She’d experienced the bedding, learned that she wasn’t missing a thing and could now live out the rest of her days knowing she hadn’t lost out on much by not marrying. Their priest had always said the marriage bed was a trial the woman had to suffer to pay for Eve’s misdeeds. Now she knew it to be true. While she’d experienced a very brief pleasure, it certainly was not worth the pain she was now suffering. Good Lord, had he used his manhood, or was it his sword he’d shoved up inside her?
“Perhaps . . .” the Buchanan began uncertainly, and then paused and shifted slightly to peer past her.
“What is it?” Evina asked, glancing over her shoulder. Sitting on top of him as she was, Evina was high enough to see over the grass, but she didn’t see anything alarming.
“I thought I saw—” He broke off with a curse just as pain punched through her back.
Suddenly gasping for breath, Evina turned back to him with alarm, and then followed his horrified gaze down to her chest. Much to her bewilderment there was a bloody arrow tip sticking out of her breast, she saw, and then the Buchanan was tumbling them both sideways to the ground.
Evina landed on her side with a grunt, and took a minute to catch her breath, but she didn’t seem to be able to. Frowning, she opened her eyes to look at Rory, but he was gone. Confused, she glanced around and spotted his feet. They were moving, and there was another pair of feet there, she noted, and then heard the clang of metal against metal and followed the sound up to see that he was in a sword fight with someone.
He wasn’t half-bad, Evina decided after watching him for a minute. Impressive even, she thought as another man came into view and she realized he was fighting two at once. Not just a healer after all, she acknowledged, and then found her eyes closing.
Evina blinked them open what she thought was a mere moment later, but it must have been longer than that, because the two men Buchanan had been fighting were now lying unmoving on the ground near her, and the Buchanan was fighting a different man. And there were two other men battling right beside them, she saw. One of them was—
“Gavin!” Evina cried with alarm as the man her cousin was battling caught him in the arm with his sword tip. She’d meant to scream, but didn’t have the air to manage it. Her voice was barely conversation level. Still, it was enough to make the men stop fighting briefly and glance her way. Evina stared at Gavin’s startled and pain-filled face and shook her head. He couldn’t be there. This had to be a dream, she decided as her eyes closed again.