King's Knight [Highland Menage 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  “King James wishes me to review the items Lord Graham stored for Lady Isabel, and have them returned to Calltuin House,” said Murray.

  “Dinna ye mean stolen?” muttered Isabel. Rory nudged her to be silent.

  “We will start with Lady Isabel’s cask of jewels from her mother.” Murray turned to Errol. “My man will go with Lady Graham’s maid to carry it here.” He brought out a list, held it up, and compared it to the woman. “I believe most of what you are wearing belonged to Elizabeth Elliot of Roxburgh. You will remove it immediately.”

  Lady Graham quickly proved where Roderick learned how to scream. When Errol realized she’d have to be restrained before she would allow anyone to touch her, he had her escorted to her chamber, ordering her youngest two sons to help. The herald’s men went along to ensure the safe removal of the rest of the jewelry and to bring the full cask back.

  “Ye’d think we were killing her,” said Rory, rubbing his ears once the echoes of her screams of outrage had faded.

  They refreshed themselves while waiting for the cask. Murray then laid everything out on a table under the close eye of Errol, Master of Graham. He went through his list, moving items over as he identified them and confirmed the decision with Errol. There wasn’t much left for Lady Graham when he was done. The herald’s men placed the cask in the chamber set aside for them. One stayed to guard it as Murray took out his second, much longer, list of items taken from Calltuin.

  “I ken where one thing is,” said Isabel before he could start. “Roderick boasted he slept in the bed from the master’s chamber. He said he’d return it to Calltuin for himself.”

  He’d then made vile comments to her, ending by saying he might allow her to sleep at the foot of it. After she was well beaten into submission, of course. He’d bluntly told her that she would be allowed to live just over a year as his wife. Then, once her dowry was confirmed to be his, she would have an unfortunate accident. He’d not known Herald Murray, disguised as a peddler, had heard the threat.

  “That answers where Lady Isabel will sleep while we are here,” said Murray. He turned to her with a knowing smile. “You’ll sleep in your own bed, in Roderick’s chamber.” He consulted his list. “Ah yes, a large bed, with a feather mattress. Errol, see to it that the chamber is cleaned out and refreshed for Lady Isabel and her husbands.”

  Her eyes shot to Tearlach, and then Rory. She sank onto a bench, suddenly faint from the message they sent her. They’d finally have her in a real bed, alone, in a chamber with a door!

  Chapter 6

  A quick glance around proved Tearlach was right to insist he take his tired wife to bed. Not that he planned to let her sleep for a while. A huge bed dominated the chamber. A bed he had every intention of using for some time. A bed that he’d share with Isabel and Rory should King James send them to Calltuin. At Duncladach they’d be lucky to get a straw pallet. He pushed that thought away. If the king accepted his choice and sent them to Clan MacDougal they would find a way to get whatever Isabel needed to make her comfortable.

  He took a closer look to see what a lady should have in her bedchamber. A fire took off the chill of the window, open to clear out Roderick’s stench. A tub steamed with hot water in front of the flames with a screen to keep the heat in and curious eyes out. Nearby a table was set with platters of food and ale. One corner was screened, no doubt for a chamber pot. They did not have to leave until they chose.

  Had Errol arranged this, or was it the housekeeper? She’d said something about how badly the Laird had treated the poor wee lassie. That was for tomorrow to discover. Tonight would be their wedding night.

  “Look at that bed!” Isabel’s boots tapped across the floor until they reached the carpet. Noticing nothing else, she pressed both palms down. They sunk in. “A feather mattress,” she said in awe. “I’ve heard of them, but never touched one.” She whirled around, suddenly furious. “I’ve been sleeping on a hard pallet stuffed with straw, lying on the floor of the garret with little heat, and he’s had this, all along. If I see him again I will poke my rolling pin below his belt rather than bounce it off his head. Mayhaps it would do some good!”

  “I would hold him down for ye to do that, wife,” replied Rory. “Though it may be easier to hit No-dick’s head again as ’tis bigger than what’s under his plaid.”

  Tearlach sent his twin a silent message that such talk was not suited to seducing their wife. Rory pointed to the way his plaid tented, silently replying he was ready to prove his cock worked well no matter what they spoke of. It was Isabel he needed to seduce, and he was still learning about women. So he wrapped his wife in his arms, drawing her head to his chest.

  “Hush, dearling,” murmured Tearlach, “’tis in the past. Time to move forward. Ye are ours and will be protected.”

  “But—”

  He looked down, quirking an eyebrow at her. He wanted her flushed from arousal, not anger. “Do ye wish to speak on that when we have a soft bed in an empty chamber with a latched door?” Her chest and face turned pink. Her heart beat fast against his chest. Her breathing quickened. That stoked his own fire.

  “Well, nay,” she admitted. The corners of her lips turned up.

  He turned her to face the fire. “Would ye like to climb in a hot bath?”

  “A bath?” Her whole face lit up. “Ye mean, step in and sit?”

  “Ye are wee enough to fit, so aye.”

  Whoever had prepared this chamber would be rewarded. Not only would Isabel enjoy it, he and Rory would have a reason to run their hands over every inch of her wet body. His cock got even harder when he saw the bar of soap waiting on the linen cloths. He released her. Step by slow step she approached the tub. She trailed her fingers in it.

  “Oh, my, it is hot water. At Calltuin we used a basin in the kitchen. ’Twas warm, at best.” Her eyes shone at them. “Ye brought warm water to our chamber that first morning. Did I thank ye for it?”

  “Ye can do that now,” he replied before Rory could correct him.

  They had her stripped and in the tub within minutes. She moaned, a sound that went straight to his cock. He caught his brother’s eye. They quickly stripped. Not only did they wish to keep their plaids and shirts dry, they wanted to be ready to wash quickly afterward. He’d been warned that women, after a hot bath, often fell asleep. That was not going to happen until they all had at least one orgasm.

  “Do we give her time to enjoy it?” asked Rory.

  They both looked at Isabel, relaxing with her head back. A sweet smile, almost childlike, creased her cheeks.

  “Not for long, as she’ll be asleep if we do.” They each took a linen cloth and knelt on opposite sides of the tub. “’Tis good a woman has two breasts, as well as arms and feet, so we each have one.”

  “She only has one mouth,” said Rory.

  “Aye, but two sets of lips.”

  Tearlach reached between her knees into the water. It rose halfway to her breasts. He dipped the cloth, trailing his fingers between her ankles. Her lower lips were slippery. She was as eager as they. He was torn. Did he take the time to slowly seduce her, letting her enjoy her bath, knowing she may fall asleep?

  Duchray Castle was wealthy, with many servants. There was nothing stopping them from having her bath filled tomorrow night as well. After all, it was Isabel’s furniture, and her labor, which had given the Graham’s comfort all these years.

  “I think if we take too long the lady may fall asleep,” said Tearlach.

  “Aye,” she replied, “but I wish to enjoy my first hot bath.”

  “I wish to enjoy yer first bath as well,” he replied. “And I also wish to enjoy what will come after if ye are awake.” She twisted her lips sideways, thinking. He brought his soapy hand over her breast, sliding it seductively. “Why canna ye have another bath on the morrow?”

  She turned to him in amazement. “Another bath?”

  “Ye were badly treated the last time ye were here. We dinna have servants at Duncladach or Calltui
n to bring water to yer chamber. Ye might as well make use of the ones here. They seem eager to please. We could wash yer hair then.”

  “Is it not wicked to bathe so often?”

  “The Church says all that feels good is wicked,” replied Rory. “Ye are sharing yer marriage bed with a pair of twins who love to fill each part of ye to make ye scream, again and again. I dinna think a wee bath will do aught more to yer soul.”

  Tearlach kicked his ankle. The state of a woman’s soul was not something to get into while they wished to seduce her and have both of them take her at once.

  “We bathed in the sea most days,” he said. Rory kicked him back, not hiding it. “Not always by choice.”

  “Not by choice?” she repeated, looking from one to the other.

  “We liked to prove we were stronger than our younger brothers.”

  “I’ve seen the lads in the village,” she said. “Like dogs ye are, fighting to see who will lead the pack.”

  Their order of birth determined their place in the clan, but they had to fight for it every day. It kept them strong and alert. And entertained, since there was nothing else but chess and dicing, and Somerled did not let them gamble for more than chores.

  “We did a fair bit of wrestling,” he explained. “If ye lost, ye were tossed. If ’twas done on the shore, ye got tossed in the sea.”

  “So ye are used to being clean.”

  “Aye. ’Tis one reason why I dinna wish to live near the city.” Tearlach grimaced. “The sea air was fresh, but the city stinks.”

  “So does the king,” added Rory. “Laird Fraser said he fears bathing and does little more than dip the tips of his fingers in water and wipe them on a cloth. We were lucky he’d changed to new clothes afore leaving Edinburgh for Stirling.”

  “When we were brought to him my eyes watered from the stench,” said Isabel. “I said naught in case it was treason to speak of it. I now ken why Lady Janet put on so much perfume. ’Twasn’t for herself, but to cover up the stench of others.”

  “I dinna wish to speak of the king or his cities,” said Tearlach. He used his knuckle on her clit. She inhaled, leaning back and spreading her knees to encourage him. “Tonight shall be our wedding night, for the three of us. Now turn yer face, wife, so I may taste these lips.”

  She turned her upper body rather than just her head. That gave him easy access to both breasts. Rory, of course, immediately complained. Tearlach ignored him, grasping her breasts and capturing her lips.

  Nothing he’d heard could have prepared him for the reality of kissing. When his father spoke of sliding his tongue past a woman’s he’d been disgusted. The first time he tasted Isabel it made perfect sense. She created in him a hunger that, every time he neared her, made him wish to devour every part of her.

  He released her to breathe and concentrated on her fascinating breasts. So supple they were, as soft as her inner thigh.

  “My turn,” demanded Rory. He put a finger under her chin and guided her mouth, and breasts, his way.

  Tearlach put his soapy fingers on her back. He caressed her neck and shoulders before moving on to her arms. The soft tuft of auburn hair in her armpit fascinated him. Unlike the coarser curls guarding her pussy, this was as soft as down. Avoiding Rory’s hands he sent his own over her belly to her clit. Her gasp broke their kiss. Rory sent him a mental glare. He replied with the same.

  Thinking alike, they rinsed her off and helped her to stand, spreading her knees so they could clean the more interesting parts. Rory held and kissed her while Tearlach paid careful attention to her belly and pussy, rinsing them well before attending to her arse. They patted her dry, taking their time kissing her as well. She was quivering when Tearlach carried her to the bed. She lay in his arms, half-asleep. That would not do.

  “Let’s see how soft this mattress is,” he said. He tossed her gently. She landed with a squeal, sinking into the down. She struggled to sit up. Splashes meant Rory was washing.

  * * * *

  Isabel found herself giggling as she flopped in the soft bed. She’d barely got herself up when Rory, grinning madly as usual, leaped onto the bed. He caught her under her breasts with one long arm, knocking her back to the mattress. She looked up into flashing blue eyes. Unable to be angry, she reached out and pinched his nose.

  “Ow,” he said as if she’d harmed him permanently. “What’s that for?”

  “For knocking me over.”

  “Oh? What’ll ye give me for this?”

  He scrambled off the bed and grabbed her ankles, tugging them until her hips were at the edge of the bed. He spread her knees, opening her pussy for his rampant cock. She expected to be impaled. Wanted it. Instead he dropped to his knees and put his tongue on her.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned as he flicked her clit.

  She closed her eyes, the better to feel. He abandoned her clit to separate her folds, slowly sliding between them, again and again. He came close to her clit, but not quite… She glared at him from between her breasts. His eyes laughed at her. She watched as he stuck out his tongue right where her clit was. He held it there, the tip twitching, but not touching. Teasing her.

  “Ye’ll regret this later,” she promised. “I’ll tie ye down so ye canna move yer hulking body, then I’ll tease and suck and nibble until ye beg me to take ye in my mouth.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I’ll think on it. Mayhaps put a wee dab of honey on yer cock and lick it off.”

  His head popped up, jaw dropped. He gulped. “Honey?” His voice almost broke.

  She relaxed, stretching out her shoulders to make her breasts wobble. His eyes went to them. Lady Janet Fraser had given her a few ideas on gaining control in the bedchamber. Men were much larger and stronger than most women. Lady Janet said men used their brawn against other men and expected to do the same with their wives. That meant women had to use their brains to outwit them. Fortunately, she’d added, it wasn’t difficult.

  Laird Fraser had wandered in at that point. She and Lady Janet had looked at each other and burst into laughter. The looks between the older couple became so heated Isabel asked the maid to take her for a walk. That evening Lady Fraser sat very carefully on a cushion, blushing each time her husband looked at her. He, on the other hand, preened when she did so.

  “Aye,” she replied, giving a secret smile she was told made men crazy to find out what she was thinking. “Lady Fraser gave me a few ideas.”

  “What ideas?” demanded Tearlach.

  “They’re to be a surprise, for special times. Mayhaps if ye are feelin’ poorly.”

  The bed shook again as Tearlach landed beside her. He put his hand on his heart and groaned. “I be feelin’ poorly, wife. Make it better.”

  She made a show of looking carefully at his throbbing cock. “I dinna think ye can get much better than that!”

  He rolled and clamped his mouth on one nipple, palming the other. His blazing blue eyes, ones that matched the pair hovering above her pussy curls, met hers in a demand. Her nipple popped out of his mouth. He blew on it, making it rise even farther.

  “Close yer eyes and enjoy,” he ordered.

  It was one order she didn’t mind obeying.

  Tearlach filled his hand with her other breast, massaging it, flicking her nipple with his thumb. His mouth and teeth teased the other. The gentle bite was a sharp contrast to Rory’s smooth tongue. He teased her, making her twitch. She thrust her pussy up, wanting more. Rory slapped it lightly, making her gasp.

  “Ye mustn’t come until we give permission,” said Rory.

  She groaned. “I dinna like that order.”

  “Mayhaps ’tis why we give it,” replied Tearlach. His tongue curled around her nipple, followed by his teeth. He bit, just enough to make her gasp and raise her hips to Rory’s mouth. She lifted her head to watch.

  “Touch my clit!” she demanded.

  Rory raised his eyebrows. “Will ye come if I touch yer clit?”

  “Aye!”

/>   “Then I’d best not,” he smugly replied. “Close yer eyes.”

  She groaned and slapped her palms on the bed either side of her. A signal must have passed because Tearlach lifted his head as Rory tugged her bottom past the edge. Would he fill her? The slow steady intrusion of his hard cock answered the question. She groaned as he pressed until his balls tapped her arse. He stood there, panting. She wanted more. She squeezed him.

  “That’s it!”

  Rory lifted her knees, bending them to expose her even more. He pounded into her, taking what he wished. It was good, but it could be better if he touched her clit!

  Tension rose higher, the need to come so close she almost snapped. But Rory was the one who came, his groin slapping her flesh as he roared his possession. He slumped over her, chest heaving. She drummed her heels into his back.

  “I wanted to come!”

  “And we said ye mustn’t,” said Tearlach harshly.

  Rory stayed where he was, though his cock softened slightly inside her. She clenched him, trying to provoke an orgasm in spite of their orders not to.

  “Our wife is being disobedient,” said Rory to Tearlach.

  Tearlach lifted his head from her nipple. She raised her hand to take over. One look from him stopped her.

  “Flip her,” said Tearlach.

  Rory pulled out, and before she could react she was on her belly, arse in the air, knees on the bed. She thought he would enter her again, but the sound of a sharp slap registered before she felt the pain. She yelped at the sting. A second one hit, then a third. She struggled, but they held her tight. She still fought at six, when they stopped. Tearlach held her while Rory went to his sporran. He held up a bottle of what must be sweet oil.