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“I have the words this day.” He squeezed her rump affectionately, then patted it. “As for being hard, if ye get off my lap I’ll show ye how hard I am.” James scooped her up, holding her above his own erection. She was so small and light that James could easily rub her arse back and forth over his cock. Cormac quickly shucked his plaid.
“Hands and knees,” he said. “On the bed.”
James set her there. The bed was the perfect height if he spread his legs wide. Her full cheeks, pink and rosy from his attention, drew his eye to the white line between them. Her belly hung down, just enough so they knew there was more in there than food. He slid a thick finger in her wet pussy. She clenched around him. He would not last long. Careful of the babe, he entered her heat slowly rather than slamming deep as he wished. She groaned, low and long.
“Ye’re mine, Alana Sinclair.” He pulled out, grimacing in the effort to move slowly. Once more he entered her, this time harder and faster. “Do ye hear me?”
She tilted her arse, changing the angle. Her eagerness pushed his limits. He drove in, harder and faster. Wet slaps filled the cabin. The contrast between her smooth skin and his wide hands with a sprinkling of dark hair, egged him further. His tension rose even higher.
“Mine!” he roared as his balls exploded. They pulsed again and again as he filled her. Finally, he slumped over her back, hauling air into his lungs as if he’d just won a battle. “Finish her, James,” he croaked as he backed away. He leaned against the wall, watching as James flipped her onto her back. Her red face and breasts proved she was nearing her peak. James held her knees up, exposing her swollen pink puss.
“You’d best make me come or I’ll not let you sleep tonight,” she warned.
James grinned as he slid his cock into her. He grasped her breasts as he leaned forward.
“You may be Cormac’s wife, but you’re also my bride. We jumped the broom together and ’tis good for a year and a day.” James pinched her nipples, making her gasp. He put her hands on her own breasts for her to take over. Lifting her arse brought her pussy up to his cock. He bent her legs until her knees were near her ears. He put one hand on her clit while the other supported her. He wiggled his finger, making her moan. He kept his strokes slow and deep, his finger busy. Her own hands were equally hard at work.
She inhaled, then froze, crying out as she came. James grabbed her hips and slammed into her, again, and again and again. She cried out once more. When it was over he hung over her, both of them panting. Cormac grinned at the sight of them. He trusted his brother to take care of Alana, in bed and out. They were a good team.
“Mmm,” she murmured with a catlike smile. “That was nice.”
“Nice?” demanded Cormac. “’Twas a lot better than nice!” His belly chose that moment to rumble a complaint.
Alana opened her eyes. “This babe makes me as hungry as you,” she said. “I need to eat, now.”
James, grinning like a fool, helped her to her feet while Cormac got a wet cloth for her. He looked down at her with a grin.
“Best if ye dress for dinner. The pearls are fine but I dinna wish to tease the crew with the rest of ye.”
Chapter Three
Alana yelped as the cart lurched through a deep rut, throwing her sideways. It was only a few miles from Wick Harbor to Castle Girnigoe yet she felt as if she’d been pummeled for days. The spanking she’d received the previous afternoon didn’t help, though the loving after, and again during the night, brought a smile. It almost conquered her nausea, brought on by her worry about her father’s reaction to her marriage and pregnancy rather than the rocking of the cart.
She pressed her hand over her belly. When she realized she was with child the healer said she must have quickened within a day or two of her marriage. Connor and James had puffed up, strutting around as if it was all their doing. They’d taken extra care of her, near smothering her. A few days later her baby sickness begun. It lasted from morning until evening. They’d waited an extra two weeks for her to gain weight and be sure it was over before leaving Castle Leod for Wick.
Laird MacKenzie had accompanied them to Kinrowan Castle, on the far tip of the Black Isle, to put them on a ship as he wished to view his widowed daughter Kiera’s dower lands. She was known as a shrew and he wished her to marry and leave him in peace. He said Kiera insisted no man was good enough for her. He explained his plan to find a powerful man to seduce and marry Kiera, then train her to behave as a proper wife should.
Alana managed to keep her comments to herself. What she believed was the proper way for a woman to behave differed widely from that of the laird. From what she’d heard of Kiera her views were closer to Alana’s. She lurched again, grunting at the ache. She switched positions on the cushion once more.
“I’d carry ye, but ’twould not seem right as none here ken we're married,” said Cormac, walking on the cliffside of the path beside her.
“I could walk—”
“’Tis too far. I dinna wish to harm that precious wee one ye’re carryin’.”
“Lady MacKenzie’s healer said not much would dislodge a babe if all was right with it.” She shot him a look. “You eagerly drove your cock in there just this morn. If that doesna harm the babe, walking willna either.”
“Good thing we did it, too. Ye are wild for it, wee Alana,” said James.
He spoke from the far side of the wagon. She’d been surprised to discover he had a fear of falling off the hundred-foot cliffs that edged the northwest coast. She’d been nimble footed as a child, taking risks that now made her shudder. James told her William had pushed him off one day when they’d been sent to gather eggs. He’d landed on an outcrop. If Colin MacKenzie hadn’t come by his body would soon have smashed on the rocks far below. Furious, William attacked Colin that night, leaving him blind in one eye. There was no proof so he’d gotten away with the attack, as usual.
“’Tis a daughter I’m carrying,” she replied. As there hadn’t been a female born to the MacDougal line in generations, they’d taken to ignoring her insistence.
“Yer pussy needs petting so much it’s good there are two of us,” added Cormac with a deep chuckle. “Luckily, there’s not much else to do on a ship.”
“There’s chess,” said James helpfully.
Cormac scoffed, making her smile. He enjoyed physical activities. Sitting made him twitch.
“I’m thinkin’ we need a hammock fer our bedchamber. Ye surely liked it when we swung ye back and forth on our cocks.” Cormac leaned close to leer at her.
Her face heated at the reminder. “Hush,” she said, before he could get even more graphic. “All must think you are my escorts from Lovat Castle, and naught more.”
“Soon as ye show yer kerch and throw yer cloak off yer shoulders all will ken ye are married and carryin’ a babe.”
“Aye,” she replied. “But the earl must be the first to see it.”
“He kens it, though he’ll pretend otherwise,” said James.
It took her a moment to realize what he’d said. Her enjoyment of the day evaporated like the morning mist. “How?”
“Spies and messengers, the same way Laird Fraser learned the earl wished ye to marry William,” said Cormac, as if it should have been obvious.
“You never told me!” The men shared a glance. “You knew, all along!” She shook her head, unable to believe it. “I’ve had no chance to prepare for this. Did you not think it would matter to me?”
“Alana, we spent months with MacKenzie,” said James quietly. “You were very sick. It scared us.”
“You thought if I was upset I wouldn’t lift my skirts for you!”
“There is that,” agreed Cormac with a touch of humor. “We care for ye, and not just for the lovin’. Once your belly settled ye laughed and played.” He looked away, over to the high cliffs and the sea. “We wished ye to enjoy what might be yer last bit of freedom.” He met her eyes. She saw remorse and something elusive. “If yer father tosses us in his dungeon and
keeps ye close indoors, we wished ye to have good memories.”
She thought about it as the cart bounced along the rough track. They were right. If she’d been aware her father knew she’d gone against his wishes by marrying them she would’ve been even more nervous. Her father didn’t play chess because he had a better game. Why sit and move silent game pieces when he could play with people’s lives? She should have realized he’d know. Now that she did, what would she do?
“He will pretend to be enraged at our marriage,” she said. She had a sudden thought. “It’s been ten years. Would he have discovered what William really did to me?”
“Aye,” said James. “He would’ve kept it to himself, though, waiting until he was ready to use it to suit him best.”
“Yet he wished to force me to marry William.”
“No doubt he has a way to keep your cousin from harming you.”
She flinched, remembering William’s attack. “Without beating me he cannot get his cock hard enough to make a babe.”
“There are ways,” said Cormac, grimacing. “He could get hard beating another lass in yer chamber and then do his husbandly duty to ye.”
The horror of having to watch a woman being abused and then being touched with bloody hands made her gag.
“Damn it, Alana doesna need to think of such!” roared James. The brothers glared at each other over her head.
“Nay, Cormac was right to say it,” she replied. “If I dinna ken things I canna prepare for them.” She sat straighter on the padded bench. “If my father knows already then there is no harm in me telling him. If I do it in the hall all will learn the truth of William. If it warns fathers to keep their daughters safe from him, then showing my shame will be worth it.”
“You have no shame to show,” insisted James. “I will stand at your back as you speak your truth.”
“Tell it loud so all hear what a useless excuse of a man is William, Master of Sinclair.” Cormac rolled out his shoulders. His lips curled over his top teeth in a snarl. “If he speaks ill of ye, I will put my fist to good use.”
“Nay,” said James, even louder. His eyes swept over his older brother with scorn. “You will keep your temper. Swallow the words and save them for a time when you have William alone. For once, think afore you act.”
Cormac wrinkled his nose, sniffing disdainfully. He turned to Alana.
“Och, he’s speakin’ like a herald agin’,” he whispered loudly in his broadest brogue. He pretended to blanch. “Though he be my ain brother, I be feared of him when he speaks with a stick up his arse.”
She laughed, making Cormac preen and bow.
“I remember you like something else up your arse, my lady,” said James slyly. “Best behave or you’ll do without.”
Her pussy responded and she blushed, making them both laugh. Anyone near their assigned chambers at Castle Girnigoe would hear her enthusiastically share her bed with both men. As for her babe, Cormac and James were both big men with dark hair and blue eyes. No one could say her legal husband was not the father.
Many knew sharing a wife was the way of the MacDougal clan because there were many sons yet few wives available to marry. Too many clans had faded when the male line died out. That was her father's problem now as both his sons were dead so he had to rely on a daughter for heirs. All understood a clan must do what it could to survive. Alana didn’t care the reason. She thoroughly enjoyed having two arousing man determined to outdo each other in pleasuring her.
Unfortunately, they were equally determined in aspects of life outside their bedchamber. Their concern for her health and safety was sometimes a nuisance. Until she arrived at Lovat Castle the only ones who’d cared for her, rather than what she could do for them, were these two. Thanks to them she’d enjoyed the last five months more than any time in her life.
During the day she'd plied her needle, repairing ancient tapestries while enjoying the company of the ladies. Usually her belly calmed by evening. Her husbands made sure her pussy purred with contentment before they slept.
“Look.” Cormac pointed to the familiar structure dominating the skyline. Castle Girnigoe filled a narrow strip of land protected by cliffs and the sea on three sides. “Yer wee home has grown a bit since we were here. Think ye the earl sees himself as king of Caithness?”
“Dinna speak of such, lest it come true.”
It was too close to the truth to be funny. She shooed them away, needing to think. They strode off, Cormac toward the cliff’s edge. He looked at the sky, watching the dark clouds approach, then shifted his attention down, as if contemplating a route to the sea.
“There’s a wee path, here, brother,” he said, grinning at James. He pointed down. “We could gather eggs off that ledge.”
James turned white, gritted his teeth, and looked inland as if searching the fields to see what was ripening. The harvest was always a busy season. If there wasn’t enough food to get them through the dark, hungry season, people died. Not that the earl went without. He spent as he chose, including her dowry. It was obvious what her gold had bought. The towerhouse had gained another story. Other buildings were higher as well, and likely filled more of the courtyards, reducing open areas even more.
Her great-grandfather had started enlarging the castle but died at Flodden. Her grandfather and father had continued, with her father using it as his residence. The land here was relatively flat so it was easy to see enemies approaching. That gave time to bring all inside the walls and raise the wooden drawbridge between the west barbican, which contained the stables and kennels, and the castle. There was a separate sliding drawbridge between the large older portion and the relatively new addition, which contained the porter’s lodge, guest hall, bakehouse with giant oven, and various chambers.
The season was turning, the hills more brown than green. Their ship had passed silkies sunning on flat rocks above the tide and otters riding in the sea forests of kelp. She’d felt welcomed by the ravens, a pair of which wheeled overhead. Her favorite birds were the sea cockies with their white and black faces so crisply painted, and their orange feet and beaks, which often carried a row of fish.
She waved at the children by the thatched-roof cottages and the women working in the gardens beside them. They looked familiar as their families had lived here for untold generations as part of the Sinclair clan. Curious faces peered at her from the castle windows as well. She glanced down the steep slope to the south barbican. A fishing boat had docked on the beach. Two men used ropes to pull it out of the reach of the tide. Women worked on their knees in the terraced kitchen gardens. These were well protected from the fierce wind and in full sun, so provided fresh herbs for the earl’s table most of the year.
She was getting desperate by the time the cart finally rumbled uphill and through the gates. The high walls of the barbican stopped the cold wind that had begun to whip over her. Rain fell lightly. The dark clouds blowing in from the North Sea could soon turn into a gale.
“I need a garderobe, now!” she said to Cormac as he helped her out.
He escorted her across the drawbridge to the gatehouse, leaving James to deal with the cart. To her left waves smashed on tall towers of stacked rock. She’d missed the ever-present, ever-changing sounds of the sea while living with the Frasers. She lifted her head and inhaled the familiar salt air before stepping into the long stone passage guarding the entrance to Castle Girnigoe.
“The lads who built this were nay MacDougals.” Cormac’s grumble boomed off the rock lining the passageway. “Duncladach was built by men, for men.” Though he ducked, the iron lattice of the yett almost parted his hair as he passed under the spikes.
She breathed a sigh of relief to find she recognized the servant waiting for them. When they’d docked she’d seen someone on a horse race north to inform the earl of their landing. Her entry was not a surprise to this man. She pushed back her hood just enough to show her face. His sneer warned her of what she faced. She swallowed her fear and stared back. She was
Lady Alana Sinclair, and he was a servant. He looked beyond her to Cormac. From the steward’s change of expression to respect, Cormac must be ready to hit him for his insolence.
“My lady,” he said, bowing. He ignored Cormac. “Follow me to the hall.”
“The lady needs a garderobe first,” said Cormac.
“Of course.”
She hurriedly found relief. Knowing this was her last moment of privacy before facing her father, she took time to calm herself. She’d been sent away in shame, cast away due to lies she’d never been allowed to prove wrong, or even speak of. She had a memory gap between being discovered in William’s stone-walled bolt hole, badly beaten, and waking in Lovat Castle with a cat purring each side of her. The events leading up to the beating were ingrained in her memory. She still had nightmares from William’s attack and a great fear of dark, enclosed places. Sleeping with Cormac and James had kept the nightmares away. If her father kept her apart from them…
No! She was a married woman carrying her father’s precious second grandchild. If her nephew George lived he would become the fifth earl, but it was prudent to have a couple of younger cousins nearby. Her father had made many enemies and children died so easily.
The earl would surely keep her with Cormac, her legal husband. She wasn’t sure about James. She breathed deeply until she seemed calm enough to face her future. When she stepped into the corridor James had joined Cormac. They’d brushed away the dust of their journey.
“Are ye ready, lass?”
She gave an abrupt nod. She was no coward. Nothing mattered to her father but his own desires. Once he saw her swollen belly he would not harm her because he wanted the babe she carried. She tugged at her hood to make sure it covered her head and then clutched her cloak to hide the evidence of her well-married state.
“Remember,” whispered James, “you have a position of power. You’re not crawling on your knees begging for a crumb tossed by your father’s hand. You carry his grandson. When he sees that, he will be appeased.”