Page 42 of Highland Guard
Chapter 11
Lillebonne, Normandy
FitzOsbern lay naked. His head thrown back against the headboard, but his eyes languidly watched the topless serving woman swallow his entire length inside her lascivious mouth. He felt her tongue stroking the piercings on the tip of his cock, flicking the ball bearing against his most sensitive part. Then her lips closed, and she suctioned harder. His breath became short, and he hissed as he thrust forward slowly, allowing his length to touch the back of her throat.
She was a well-trained courtesan. He thought about Liosa, the unfaithful bitch he’d bedded for years, who then abandoned him and disappeared without a trace. It was a reminder that whores were not to be trusted. As much as he enjoyed the woman’s mouth, he wanted more, so with a hoarse voice, he rasped, “Enough! I demand you ride me.”
She straddled him and aligned her body with his length, then slowly impaled herself upon him. FitzOsbern groaned as she enveloped him whole. She threw her head back and moaned. FitzOsbern grabbed her hips and took over, slamming her body up and down his length to fasten the ride. She was blonde with deep blue eyes, but he was not interested in her. He pictured another woman riding him.
Naomi Graham, the dark-haired lass with the power to control the relic. He had paid handsomely for his spies to keep an eye on her movements. All he needed now was for Guy of Brionne to marry the lass. Then she was his to manipulate. It would not be the first time he had stolen women straight from the beds of Norman barons.
FitzOsbern closed his eyes and imagined it was Naomi in his bed instead. It was all-consuming his need of her and at the end of the week, his men would drag her from the nunnery and bring her into his world where she belonged. Thinking of Naomi sent him over the edge as he released his seed and shouted into the night sky.
When he had finished with the serving woman, he paid her and sent her away. He then took a leisurely bath, scrubbing himself as servants poured heated water inside. He was interrupted when one of his guardsmen arrived, disheveled and cursing.
“What is it?” he asked.
“My lord, tis about the woman intended for Guy of Brionne.”
“Is she in the nunnery as I asked?”
“No, my liege. She has escaped and your men are all dead. She had a Highland guard with her.”
“What do you mean, they’re all dead? They were to capture and keep her there until Guy arrived.”
“Guy of Brionne was delayed, and your monks wanted the amulet for themselves. The prioress would not tell them its location and they began killing the inhabitants.”
“I paid her handsomely to keep it safe until I arrived. I knew I could not trust my own men. So, what happened?”
“The lass and her Highland guard took control of the nunnery. She has the relic and heads to Dunsinane to see Macbeth. Guy of Brionne is not far behind.”
FitzOsbern roared with anger as he stood and stepped out of the bathtub with water cascading everywhere. “Imbeciles! Must I do everything myself? Fetch my clothes and see to my horse. I will not have my plans thwarted by a little bitch. When I find that woman, I am going to beat her within an inch of her life, then fuck her into submission.”
“Where do you wish to go, my liege?”
FitzOsbern replied, “I cannot rely on clerics and monks anymore. It is time to call upon thetagmata.”
***
The Bothy
FOR THE NEXT THREEdays on their journey to Dunsinane, it poured with rain. It was a deluge. The weather was chilled and iced cold and the three travelers were miserable. Still, they pushed on so they could reach their destination as soon as possible. They slept in stables and caves wherever they could find a dry, warm place that could offer them shelter from the storm. They had been traveling for days and the three fell into an easy routine: fetching water, washing, feeding horses, setting up the campsite, cooking and finding a warm place to bed down. Naomi was getting used to having the big Highlanders around. She had to admit she was softening towards Kieran. For all his brash ways, he was never nasty. He took his role of protection seriously and it was the little things that made Naomi realize she may have misjudged him. Whenever she awoke, she would find his blanket or plaid wrapped about her, meaning he went without the extra warmth so she could sleep comfortably. For that reason, she knew she would have to keep an emotional distance because the life she led had no room for kind, handsome Highland guards. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to Kieran because of her.
Kieran was also battling control. It was torture having a warm soft body lie nearby and not be able to reach out and pull her into his arms, especially when she shivered in the night. He clenched his jaw, remembering that she was innocent, and he was betrothed unless the king overturned his decision. Once married, Kieran could never break his vows. Even if it was to some shrew, he neither knew nor cared about. It just was not in him, given the history of his own upbringing and his father’s infidelities. He could never do that to another woman. Naomi would never be within his reach. To dream of intimacy with her was a certain path to ruin, so he had to keep his distance.
It was now their last night on the road before reaching Dunsinane. Naomi was shivering under an awning as she waited for Kieran. She could just make out his figure through the pouring rain heading towards her. As he joined her under the makeshift shelter, he flicked his long hair back and again Naomi was struck by how handsome he was when his face was set and determined and when he was in his element, that was, protecting her.
Kieran gazed down at Naomi with his piercing intense eyes and said, “The inn is full, but I’ve found a warm bed for the night.” His body was wet, and his leine plastered to his muscular torso and arms. He stood strong with his lean thighs and hips with a plaid wrapped around. Naomi licked her lips. When she lifted her gaze to his face, she blushed because Kieran had been watching her. He whispered, “Lass, dinnae look at a man like that unless you want to be devoured.” She shook her head to focus on what he was saying. Then he caught himself and took a slight step back.
“There is a bothy about half-a-mile north of here. The inn keeper says it is well stocked and there’s shelter for the horses outside. There’s a blizzard coming, I think tis best we stay there for the evening. Dermid has gone ahead to light the fires.
By the time they reached the bothy, Dermid had the fires going but had set himself up in the dry hayloft in the stable next door. There was not much room in the stable once the horses were inside. That left Kieran and Naomi to share the bothy. When Kieran walked inside, he cursed his luck. It was warm and dry, yes, but it was also tiny, with only enough space to set up a pallet in the middle of the main room. They would need to share the space and without Dermid close by, Kieran felt imminent danger ahead. He gritted his teeth, then went back outside, claiming he was going to take a cold, hard wash in the river.
Naomi took one look at the bothy and paled. Although she welcomed the warmth, it was a tight fit if she were to sleep inside with Kieran. She was relieved when he marched out to see to his own needs. Dermid had been kind enough to gather a bucket of rainwater for her, and she would use its contents to wash away the dirt from the road.
For the next half hour, she went about doing just that, using a cloth and soapy water to give herself a thorough washing. Once dry and feeling fresh, she emptied and rinsed out the bucket, leaving it just under the awning to dry. Then she returned inside and went about hanging out wet clothes across the hearth. Naomi rummaged through their belongings to prepare food for the three of them. She filled a separate bucket with rainwater and set a large pot to boil over the hearth. She added spices from her store and threw in root vegetables and some dried meat to cook a hearty broth.
