Page 60 of Craved By a Highland Beast

Evan was there and he had Bonnie attention. And yet now that he could talk to her, the words failed him, dying in his throat before he could ever utter them. How could he explain this situation to her in a way that wouldn’t make him seem even worse than he was? How could he tell her he never wanted this marriage with Medea when he couldn’t even promise Bonnie, she would be the one he would marry?

Bonnie looked at him expectantly; impatiently. Evan didn’t have much time before she would get fed up with him and tell him to leave.

“I . . . I didnae ken, Bonnie, I swear it,” Evan said, taking a few halting steps towards her, uncertain of whether or not he should approach. “I didnae ken about the betrothal. Me council arranged it with her advisors an’ they never informed me o’ it.They thought once I returned, I would dae as they asked an’ . . . an’ I would if I hadnae met ye.”

Had it not been for Bonnie, Evan would have married Medea Buchanan without any protest. It wouldn’t matter to him that she was a stranger. It wouldn’t matter whether or not they were compatible, whether they could be happy together. Such things had been inconsequential—at least until he met Bonnie and she showed him what true happiness meant.

“But I did meet ye,” Evan continued. “I did an’ I loved ye an’ because o’ this, I cannae marry the Lady Buchanan. Me heart is an’ always will be yers. Ye can dae with it as ye please. Ye can send me away. Ye can curse me an’ scream at me an’ scorn me fer the rest o’ yer life, but ken I will never marry her.”

Bonnie stared at him in silence for so long that Evan began to think she would never speak to him again. With a defeated sigh, he turned around and made his way to the door, thinking it would be better to simply leave her be. He had told her everything he needed her to hear, and he had promised her she could now do as she wished. If what she wished was to never see him again, then Evan would have to accept it, even if the ache was so much that his feet could hardly carry him to the door.

With one last look at Bonnie, he righted the door on its hinges; one last attempt to fix what he had broken.

“Wait.”

Evan paused by the door just as he was crossing it, his gaze hopeful as he turned to look at Bonnie. For a few moments, though, she remained silent. She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him. She only knew she didn’t want him to go.

“Ye will nae wed her?”

It was all Bonnie could bring herself to ask. None of this mattered if this was just another lie, if Evan’s council managed to convince him to go through with the wedding in the end. Evan was not a weak man, prone to outside influence, allowing others to dictate his actions, but at the same time, his sense of duty was so strong that Bonnie couldn’t help but fear he would rather sacrifice himself, his happiness, their love than risk anything happening to his clan.

And it was that which filled her with guilt—knowing Evan was trying to do the best for his people and still being filled with this fury that gnawed at her insides ever since she had found out the truth.

She shouldn’t be happy that he would refuse to wed that woman. She shouldn’t find joy in the fact that he was letting down his council, his people.

Evan shook his head. “I willnae wed her. Ye have me word.”

There was no mention of a wedding between the two of them, though. Evan wouldn’t wed the Lady Buchanan, but he also wouldn’t promise Bonnie she would become his bride.

Even so, nothing could stop her as she stood and approached Evan, a hand cradling his cheek to pull him into a tender kiss. In an instant, Evan’s arms were around her waist, pulling her close and clinging onto her as though she was the only thing that kept him upright.

“Forgive me,mo ghraidh,” Evan whispered against her lips. “Forgive me. I never meant tae hurt ye like this.”

There was no doubt in Bonnie’s mind Evan was telling her the truth, but that didn’t lessen the ache of their reality. Could it be that she could never truly have him? Could it be that even after he refused to marry the Lady Buchanan, his council would still forbid him to marry Bonnie?

It seemed more likely than she wanted to think. It was no secret that his council didn’t approve of her as an option and they made it clear to her, even without outright admitting it to her face. Padraig, one of his advisors, asked her when she would be leaving every time he saw her—a less than welcoming thing to do.

Bonnie didn’t want to think about any of that, though, not when Evan’s lips were soft and warm against hers, his hands holding possessively onto her waist. Even if it was only for a short while, she wanted to be lost in the fantasy of being his. Even for a short while, she wanted to believe it—she wanted it to be as real as it could be.

“Make love tae me,” she mumbled as they kissed. Moaning softly into the kiss, Evan kicked the door shut as well as he could,small gaps forming between it and the frame as it failed to close. Picking her up, he carried Bonnie to the bed and she wrapped her legs around him, holding on, never once breaking their fevered kiss.

Evan laid Bonnie on the bed gently, crawling over her as they both settled on the mattress. She was completely surrounded by him and his warmth, his weight a comforting pressure over her, helping her push any other thought away from her mind. Nothing else mattered but the two of them in that moment, twined together on her sheets, reaching to each other for whatever they could get.

As he undressed her, slipping her dress off her shoulders, Evan’s hands were soft, gentle, moving with deliberate slowness. Inch by inch, he bared her skin and followed the path of his hands with his lips, his kisses leaving goosebumps in their wake. Bonnie gasped, breath catching in her throat, her body arching off the bed as she sought out the drag of his lips over her skin, the drag of his beard. It left a slight sting behind, one that drove her mad with lust.

“Evan,” Bonnie said in a soft moan, her fingers carding through his dark hair. She could feel him getting impatient, his hands tugging insistently at her dress as he tried to take it off her, laughing softly in triumph once he finally had her naked.

He wasted no time before he descended upon her once more, tongue dragging hotly over the swell of her breast before the tip swirled the hardened nub of her nipple. Bonnie could not look away from him, mesmerized by the sight of him as he grazed histeeth over her sensitive skin, her fingers curling in the strands of his hair to tug gently at it, just to feel his rumbling groan as it reverberated through her. Already, warmth pooled deep in her stomach, her desire coursing through her, wetness gathering in her core, and Evan’s groan deepened as his thigh pressed against her, feeling that liquid heat.

“Already wet fer me?” Evan asked, grabbing Bonnie’s waist as she writhed against him, shuddering with every brush of her sensitive spot against the heated skin of his thigh under his kilt as she rolled her hips. She would have thought his words mocking had he not sounded just as affected as she felt, his voice rough and gravelly, thick with desire. On her own thigh, she felt the rigid length of Evan’s manhood growing thicker and she couldn’t help but reach for him, slipping her hand under the kilt.

When she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him firmly once, Evan gasped, his forehead coming to rest against hers. Bonnie stared into his eyes, tongue darting out to wet her lips before Evan captured them in a kiss, her other hand insistently tugging at his shirt in a silent plea for him to undress.

Reluctantly, Evan peeled himself away from her, quickly tossing all of his clothes on the floor carelessly. The moment he was done with the last layer, he was on top of Bonnie once more, refusing to stay away from her for any longer than necessary.

Not for the first time, Bonnie was distracted by the sight of him before her, hands reaching out to touch before she could even realize what she was doing. Her tender touch as she dragged the tips of her fingers over the ridged wall of muscles that was Evan’sstomach drew a sigh of pleasure out of him, one that deepened when she scraped her nails just under his navel. His length twitched in response, flushed and leaking as Bonnie wrapped her fingers around him once more to stroke the feverish flesh, losing herself in the soft moans he made. She loved watching him, listening to him as he gave in to pleasure, and she loved even more knowing that she was the source of it.

“Me love,” Evan whispered as he buried his face in Bonnie’s neck, sucking the sensitive skin there between his lips as he thrusted lazily in her fist. His hands stroked her hair, her jaw, her shoulders, running over her breasts and the dip of her waist in an almost reverent manner, as if Evan was trying to map every inch of her in his mind. For the first time, neither of them was in a hurry; they were content simply enjoying each other’s touch, each other’s proximity, Bonnie’s need stoked and intense, but simmering just under the surface.

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