King's Knight [Highland Menage 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 5

  She bit back a groan of need. They would both fill her, then let her have her release?

  He pulled the stopper and strutted back. Though he’d already come his cock was almost as hard as Tearlach’s. His oiled fingers slid into her. She hissed at the intrusion though he went in easily. He slapped her arse and quickly added a second finger. She closed her eyes as he slowly pumped, now and then twisting. She tried to come, uncaring of their order. She’d get close, almost there, but he knew her too well and would stop until she came back off the edge.

  * * * *

  Rory’s cock throbbed in time to his fingers twisting in Isabel’s wide arse. God, he loved her white flesh! He loved it even more when she sported pink handprints that he’d given her. They showed up fast and lingered, marking his possession. He was three fingers deep, twisting them, spreading them so his cock would fit.

  She moaned, a sweet, soft sound that made his heart swell along with his cock. Isabel was so beautiful, inside and out. And so needy for them. For only them.

  He loved watching his fingers fuck her almost as much as watching his cock get sucked into that tight, hot hole. A bit more oil and she’d be ready. His link with Tearlach allowed him to know his twin was close to coming just from watching and thinking. He nodded that she was ready. Tearlach lay on his back and reached for her. Rory quickly washed as Tearlach set her on his cock. She groaned as she sank, enveloping him.

  Without permission she leaned forward and rubbed her clit, grinding it against Tearlach’s groin. He grasped her shoulders, pushing her to sit up.

  “Nay, wife.”

  “I want to come, again and again,” she complained, pouting.

  Rory wanted those full pouty lips sucking on his cock. Later, after they slept.

  “Ye will, but I will come first,” said Tearlach.

  Instead of obeying she challenged him, sitting tall and thrusting her hips back and forth as she rode him. Tearlach kept his hands behind his head, pretending to be indifferent. Rory knew better, thanks to their twin connection. His brother fought to keep calm as she sank on his cock, her breasts wiggling in his face.

  * * * *

  Isabel tried to grind herself to orgasm. The smug look on Tearlach’s face as he watched made her furious. Rory hadn’t put his fingers back in her arse. She wanted them there. Even better, she wanted to feel the fullness of both of them at once. She’d found a good rhythm when Rory grabbed her hips from behind and lifted her almost off Tearlach’s cock. She whimpered at the loss. The head of Rory’s cock pressed against her. She sighed in relief. Soon she would come. And hard.

  She pressed back, bearing down so Rory could slide in. She hissed when he did as his cock was bigger than his fingers. The sweet, sharp edge of pain nearly made her come. It still wasn’t enough!

  “Ye took me by surprise, sweetling.” Rory was almost choking as he whispered the words. She didn’t care what happened as long as his cock still filled her. She groaned as Tearlach grabbed her breasts, flicking his thumbs on her nipples.

  “I’m going to come,” she warned them.

  “Ye do and ye willna get another while we’re here.” Tearlach met her glare with his own. “Ye’ll have yer mouth full of us. Aye, yer pussy and ass, too, but we’ll stop and willna let ye have yer release.”

  “Why?” she demanded, furious at the threat.

  “We are yer husbands, and ye must obey.” Rory pulled out, friction almost setting her off. She grimaced, gritting her teeth to hold back.

  “That’s it, wife, hold yer pleasure until we say ye may release it.”

  Tearlach abandoned her breasts for her hips. His strength was such that he easily lifted her up and down like a doll as he used her body to give himself pleasure. It gave her a lot as well, which made her fight not to come. Rory stayed just inside her, a constant reminder of what could be.

  When Tearlach sped up, his breath laboring, Rory grabbed her breasts from behind. She almost felt the invisible signal between the brothers. As Tearlach lifted her, this time Rory surged into her. He was hard, and a sharp pain made her gasp. He barely pulled back before Tearlach hauled her down on his cock. Up and down, in and out, she couldn’t keep track. She could only feel. Yet feeling was dangerous as she might come. At this point she didn’t care what they did to her after, as long as she had this now!

  Tearlach bellowed, going berserk, rising and slamming her down on his cock. Just as Tearlach began slowing Rory roared his possession of her. Tearlach’s cock was still hard in her when Rory shoved deep in her arse.

  “Now!” he roared.

  She screamed at the sensations, sharp and deep and wonderful. Sparks exploded, in her pussy and arse and head. She wavered, mind gone, until she slumped on Tearlach’s chest and the world went dark.

  Chapter 7

  The next days were taken up with Isabel discovering how much had been taken from Calltuin. Tables, benches, chairs, beds, tapestries, and all the small things that are not essential but make life far more pleasant. She used a stick of charcoal on the back of Herald Murray’s lists to map out where each piece would go. She refused a tapestry of a gory hunt scene. In its place she found one the same size with centaurs and unicorns and other fantastical beasts in a flower-filled meadow. She wasn’t sure if it should go in the hall or her solar. The men, who’d preferred the hunt, said it was best in her solar as she’d spend the most time there.

  Isabel disagreed about that. She’d had enough sitting around at Stirling Castle. She wanted to be active, working outside to make Calltuin do well. That could only happen if King James allowed her to live there. She would say nothing to her husbands for now. Each night they showed her the delights of bedding.

  When it was time to leave she was torn between wishing to stay with the bed, and wanting to be home. Home won out, of course. If all went well she’d soon have her bed and her men at Calltuin.

  They left before breaking their fast. They had to go through the town of Aberfoyle, so they stopped there for a hearty meal. She couldn’t help smiling as they ate. She felt better with each step closer to home. The two guards circled west, checking the steep hills for deer as there was likely to be little meat at Calltuin. It was just the four of them when Tearlach, in the lead, held up his hand.

  “Something’s wrong with the birds,” he murmured.

  “I dinna hear anything strange,” she replied as quietly.

  “Ye dinna hear them at all,” replied Rory. “Such quiet is a sign there’s sommat the birds dinna like. Could be a fox. Or it could be a man with a crossbow.”

  Tearlach and Rory drew their claymores, and checked their dirks,. They continued on, but more slowly, staying near. The attack, when it came, was sudden.

  “Keep her safe!” roared Tearlach to Rory.

  She obeyed Rory’s gesture, turning her horse away from the roars of their attackers. Tearlach rode toward them, leaping off his horse when he got near.

  “Are ye nay gonna help him?” she demanded.

  “Why?” answered Rory. His hand twitched as if he wished to join in.

  “There’s so many of them!”

  Rory frowned at her. “’Tis just four, and they be not worth much. Look. One is holding back, near dropping his blade.”

  As Rory wasn’t worried she watched the battle in as detached a manner as she could manage. She’d only seen them fight one-on-one in front of King James. Having never seen men in battle she’d been lost. She understood a bit more now from their discussions each evening with Laird Fraser.

  She shuddered when Tearlach brought his sword down on the collarbone of the first man. She heard the crunch of bone before he screamed, dropping his sword. Her husband had used an overhand blow, hitting to crush with the middle of the blade rather than the sharpened point. Though there was no spurting blood the attacker was dead, his neck broken.

  This was real. Not a game to amuse royalty. And Tearlach was good at it.

  He whirled, using the momentum as his blade followed the arc down, and then
up. The second man held his arms high to cleave Tearlach’s head. The rising claymore hit below the man’s armpit, crushing ribs. One must have pierced his lungs as his mouth bubbled blood. Once more Tearlach followed his blade, turning to catch the third man. Another sickening crunch and he dropped as well.

  When Tearlach turned to the last man he’d tossed his rusty blade to the ground. He followed it, dropping to his knees, hands in the air.

  “I beg ye, sir, spare me life!”

  “Why should I?” demanded Tearlach. Teeth bared, he stood absolutely still, both hands gripping the hilt a handspan apart. The claymore was so long that it would almost reach her shoulders if the point was on the ground. Yet Tearlach held it, unmoving, as if it were a stick!

  Rory strolled over. He lifted the begging man’s pitted blade from the ground and held out his hand. The would-be attacker slowly and carefully removed his belt knife. He handed it hilt-first to Rory. It was in such bad shape Isabel would be surprised if it would cut soft cheese.

  “Ye can kill me, laird, but I beg ye, dinna do it ’til I tell me wife and bairns to flee. They’ll die waitin’ fer me to get back to ’em. I’ll bow me neck to yer blade then.”

  “Do ye ken who caused this?” asked Rory. The man darted his eyes at Tearlach, then nodded.

  “Speak!”

  Isabel’s pussy twinged at Tearlach’s roar. Was it lust caused from battle? She’d heard of such. Was he feeling it as well? Both husbands were warriors, well able to protect her. A warm glow fluttered to life near her heart.

  “I were in the market hopin’ for some old crusts for the wee ones when Master Roderick rode in on his big horse. He promised gold to catch the thief what took his mam’s jewels. He said there’d be two of ye, and yer doxy.”

  “Watch yer mouth. ’Tis the Lady Isabel ye speak of, and my wife!”

  “Beggin’ yer pardon, laird, lady.” He bowed, his forehead nearly touching the dirt.

  “Ye believed that we’d stolen his mother’s jewels?” demanded Rory. “He has many guards. How could we get out without being stopped?”

  The man’s shoulders slumped even more. “Me bairns are starvin’, sir. The baker said nay to me. I had naught to bring home. I didna think.” He pointed to the sword with his chin. “One of ’em give me that. ’Twas the first time I held such.” He gulped, raising his head to Tearlach. “Please, sir, I be Sam, a man of the land. I dinna wish to touch such a blade agin’.”

  Tearlach relaxed his stance. He shook his shoulders out. “Do ye ken who ye were to kill?”

  “Nay, sir.” Sam looked at them as if for the first time. “Ye have fine horses, but yer plaids be old. Ye are clean, and fight well.” He shook his head in admiration. “I never seen the like. Them were bad ’uns, and ye took ’em down in three strikes!” He flicked his eyes to Isabel. “I dinna ken the lady or the old gent. I would ne’er harm a lady, sir.”

  “We are MacDougals of Duncladach, from the western shore,” said Rory. “As ye heard, this is Lady Isabel.” His voice hardened. “As for the old gent, he is a herald of King James.”

  Sam paled. He swayed, trembling in fear.

  “Ye ken what happens to those who attack such as I?” asked Murray. His voice was soft but full of menace.

  “They die,” whispered Sam. He lifted his hands, clasped in pleading. “I beg ye to give me wife that wee knife ye took. ’Tis all we have.”

  “Why are ye not at home in yer fields?” asked Rory.

  “Mary, me wife, had twins lads, sir. Mam threw us out when I said I’d not expose ’em at night for the devil to take.”

  It was an ancient reaction to things a villager didn’t understand. Anything unusual was therefore wrong, like a baby born with different-colored eyes or a strange mark, or twins. The safest way to solve the problem was to kill the ones who didn’t fit. As it was against the Church’s teaching to kill directly, you put the child out for the devil to take. Usually that meant wolves or other animals. They’d saved wee Jenny from such a fate.

  “Do ye ken Calltuin?” asked Isabel into the silence.

  “Aye, ’tis said to have good land and fine hazelnut trees.”

  “Why did ye nay go there to beg for work?”

  “Laird Graham said none were to go near. ’Tis kenned that land be held for Master Roderick and them what care for it want no help.”

  Tearlach raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

  “I wished for help, and wondered why none came when the winters got hard.”

  It was something else to lay at Laird Graham’s feet. She wondered why Sam mentioned the trees. The people of Calltuin harvested the nuts and, when the trees died, used them for firewood.

  “If we let ye live, what will happen to ye?” asked Rory.

  “Live?” Sam scraped his jaw with his trembling palm. “Since I ken who wished ye dead, and that he lied to kill ye, Master Roderick will kill me, the wife, and our bairns.”

  “Where is yer family?” she asked.

  He pointed up the trail, away from town. “I used me knife to hollow out an old badger’s den under a fallen tree.”

  She turned to Tearlach. Would she need to beg to save this man? “Husband—”

  “Aye,” he replied before she could say more. “Sam, how long will it take ye to get yer wee family? Ye’ll go to Calltuin with us.”

  His jaw dropped. He tried to swallow, having to bend his head to do so. “Ye’ll let me live?”

  “Ye ken my brother and I are twins,” added Rory. “And there’s two more sets at home. Yer wife is a fine woman to give ye such a blessing as a pair of lads and ye shouldna be tossed out of yer mam’s home for it. Can ye and yer wife work hard?”

  “Aye, laird.” His head bobbed, nodding almost violently. “We’ll work hard, laird, all of us. The wee ones ken how to do chores, and will learn more.”

  “We need Calltuin cared for while we’re away for a wee bit,” said Tearlach. “If ye do well we’ll have a place for ye and yer family, for all time. It mayn’t be at Calltuin, but ye willna be left to fend fer yerselves.”

  Overcome, Sam covered his face with his hands, trying to keep back his sobs. Getting permission from Tearlach first, Sam ran up the trail to find his family while the rest of them waited for the guards to return.

  “The king will hear of this,” said Herald Murray. “Roderick will be charged with murder. He may have been pushed into this by his mother, but ’tis up to her husband what happens to her.”

  “She is already being punished,” said Isabel. “Ye saw her when we came in. She was ready to go in triumph to Stirling Castle. She now has no jewels, will lose many of her favorite things, and Roderick may be hanged.”

  “Graham won’t return to Duchray for some time, if ever,” said Murray. “He willna wish to see his shrewish wife, or live in a home stripped of comfort.”

  The guards were astonished to find three dead bodies waiting for them. They were reassured they could not have stopped the ambush yet still felt they’d not done their job. They stripped the bodies of anything useful and hauled them back to town before Sam appeared with his shy wife and children. He knelt to Tearlach and offered his life in service. Tearlach was no laird to take a man’s fealty, but he accepted it, calling him Sam of Clan MacDougal. When Sam stood he held himself straighter and seemed more at peace.

  When they rode on Isabel held a young girl in her lap. Sam and Mary walked, each carrying a son slung at their chests. Rory and Tearlach coaxed the other two sons onto their laps.

  “We have twelve younger brothers,” explained Rory. “And since there was no mam to care for them, we learned to do so.”

  “Most men dinna touch babes,” said Sam. He soothed his son, rubbing the babe’s back as he walked.

  “They do if their wee half-brothers are left by their mothers once they are weaned, and there’s none else to care for them.”

  “Our laird had the care of our clan,” explained Tearlach. “As we were the second set, we raised and trained the younger
lads.” He nodded meaningfully to Sam. “Aye, we ken the sound of a wee bairn’s cries when a spoonful of weak gruel isna enough to fill their bellies. But that’s in the past. Clan MacDougal does well, and ye are now part of it. No matter what happens to ye, yer wife and bairns will be cared for.”

  “A man could have a good death if he kenned his family would be safe,” said Sam. He stood straighter now, no longer a broken man needing to beg for scraps.

  Isabel thought hard on that as they rode. She’d never been that hungry. What would it be like to hear wee ones crying and be unable to help? She didn’t want to go to Duncladach if things were that bad there. Surely King James wouldn’t be that cruel? Only, to him, it wouldn’t be cruel. He knew nothing of hunger. He was the king and would do what he thought was best for the kingdom. Some had to make sacrifices for the benefit of all. It didn’t mean she wished to be the one sacrificed.

  If Tearlach and Rory hadn’t saved Sam’s life his wife and little ones would have starved to death. Her husbands wished to control her, yet they were kind men, and thoughtful. Their time at Stirling Castle had shown her she could be married to far worse. So why did she wish to rebel even when she knew Tearlach and Rory were right?

  When the two guards returned from Aberfoyle, easily catching up to their slow-moving group, they said the three men were known ruffians and would not be missed. Tearlach had given the guards coins to buy food that was easy on empty stomachs. They stopped to eat. Soon after they started off again Mary stumbled. Exhaustion, plus relief and a full belly, had knocked out all the bairns as well. Herald Murray insisted Mary ride before him as she weighed next to nothing. Sam, knowing he would hold them back if on foot, climbed up behind one of the guards, who also took a child in front of him. The babes were slung over Tearlach and Rory’s broad chests, leaving one guard free to fight.

  Hours later they finally dropped into the fertile valley holding Calltuin.

  “It feels wonderful to be coming home,” said Isabel.

  Rory nodded but Tearlach scowled.