The Master Of Strathburn

by Amy Rose Bennett

  And, thank the Lord, Robert obliged. He lowered his head and when his lips closed around the exposed bud, she cried out in agonised pleasure. Hot, dark desire swirled through her as he mercilessly suckled and teased her breasts with his tongue and fingers. She writhed beneath him, tangling her hands in his hair, unsure if she could take much more of this exquisite torture, not when the throb in her loins was growing with each passing minute.

  At length, he raised his head and smiled at her, a wicked, entirely self-satisfied smile. Through her thin shift, he stroked gently across her ribs and down to her belly, making her quake.

  ‘Please don’t stop,’ she breathed. She was unsure what he would exactly do next, but she hoped he would focus his attention on that part of her where her unsatisfied need throbbed the most.

  ‘I won’t.’ He dipped his head and kissed her on the mouth again, tenderly this time as he gently lifted the hem of her shift. One of his hands stroked slowly up the inside of one thigh and then the other. She instinctively parted her legs, straining toward his feather-light touch. When his fingers slid up and down, between her most secret folds, warm and slippery with moisture, she gasped with the unexpected pure pleasure of it. She was wanton. Wild. She didn’t care, not when Robert could make her feel this way.

  But it wasn’t the end, far from it. With unerring accuracy, the pad of one of Robert’s fingers found the focus of her pulsating desire. She jolted and gasped but his teasing, circling caresses didn’t falter in rhythm. As he expertly built the intensity of the exquisite sensations inside her to fever pitch, she panted and moaned in utter abandonment, unsure how much more she could take. She seemed to be spiralling higher and higher toward some hitherto unknown heavenly world where agony and pleasure coalesced.

  And then her reality exploded into ecstasy. She cried out again and again with the shattering power of her release, her womb clenching in orgasm for the very first time. By degrees, she floated back to earth and became aware of Robert kissing her neck, her jaw, her cheek, her eyelids. She felt replete and awed all at the same time.

  She opened her eyes and smiled hazily at Robert. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘I had no idea … that was … what you did was amazing … I canna describe it any other way.’ She reached out and placed a hand on Robert’s chest, not wanting to lose contact with his hot skin. ‘Is it like that for you too?’

  ‘It can be,’ he murmured before kissing her hair and drawing her close into his arms. Jessie felt his erection pushing hard up against her belly.

  Robert had satisfied her, yet his need was still great. Jessie couldn’t let him suffer so.

  ‘Mmm, I think it is yer turn now,’ she said, then kissed his neck where his pulse beat a strong and steady tattoo. But despite what they had just shared, and as much as she wanted to please him, she suddenly felt uncertain about what she should do next. She ran one of her hands down his chest to the taut plane of his stomach, pausing at the waistband of his breeches.

  She bit her lip, wondering how to proceed. She had seen how Robert had stroked himself. Tentatively, she placed her palm against the large, swollen length of him. Would he let her see him, touch him, pleasure him there? She flexed her fingers experimentally, and Robert sucked in a harsh breath, pushing against her.

  She smiled to herself. Perhaps he would.

  ‘I havena ever done this before,’ she said softly, meeting his intent, dark-as-midnight gaze. ‘You might need to show me the way.’

  Robert chuckled gently. ‘I think you’ve found the right place,’ he said, then kissed her lightly. ‘Are you sure you’re ready for this though? I can wait … if you are unsure about continuing.’

  Jessie’s cheeks grew hot but she didn’t look away. ‘Yes, I’m sure. I want you to feel the way I felt.’ She pushed herself up, took a deep breath and began unbuttoning the front of his breeches, exposing the mysterious swelling. At such close quarters, the sight of his fully erect member jutting up from the thatch of dark curls at his groin, quite took her breath away. He was powerfully, rampantly beautiful.

  And tonight he was all hers.

  * * *

  Robert’s breath caught at the sight of Jessie, breasts still exposed, staring with rapt fascination at his raging erection. She evidently hadn’t been put off by his earlier lewd behaviour. Her tongue suddenly darted out to moisten her already kiss-bruised lips and he nearly choked.

  No, she clearly wasn’t perturbed at all.

  God help him, he was so aroused, he wasn’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t explode as soon as she touched him.

  She reached out and ran a tentative finger down his straining shaft, as if testing the feel and texture of him. When she encircled him with her whole hand near the base then ran her hand up his pulsating length to the head, he groaned and fisted the sheets, willing himself not to spill yet. She repeated the action, sliding her hand up and down, over and over again. How had she learned to do that? Her rhythm and the way she squeezed him was damned near perfect. Maybe she’d seen more of his failed masturbation attempt than he’d thought.

  ‘Tell me if you want me to stop,’ she whispered with a satisfied coquette’s smile; she was evidently pleased at his reaction so far.

  ‘Jessie,’ he growled. ‘Don’t you dare stop.’

  Of their own volition, his hips began to move in time with her rhythmic stroking and squeezing. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth. Sparks flew behind his eyelids. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to hold back.

  And then she flicked her tongue over him. Suckled him. Christ. He bucked and his eyes flew open.

  ‘I … I’m sorry,’ Jessie stammered. Her eyes were wide. ‘I didna mean to startle you. Or offend you.’

  ‘No need to apologise, mo ghaoil.’ His voice was little more than a breathless rasp. ‘And I’m not offended at all … far from it. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting you to … kiss me like that.’ He managed to smile. ‘And if you continue, you’ll soon see how much I really do like it, and I don’t know if you’re quite ready for that experience yet.’ He reached out for her hand that still grasped him and guided her back to the sliding rhythm she had started before, only a little faster.

  A few more strokes and he’d be there.

  ‘Jessie,’ he groaned and pulled her beneath him, wanting to take her mouth, plunder her with his tongue as he pushed his rigid throbbing length against her smooth belly. Her sweet taste, her musky floral scent engulfed him. One more thrust and glorious oblivion rose up to claim him. Shuddering, gasping her name against her neck, he pushed until he was quiet and spent.

  Jessie’s passion was a revelation. Robert’s heart and body thrummed with the deepest contentment he had ever known. If the worst happened, and there was no tomorrow for him, he would die a happy man.

  But there would be time enough to worry about his future tomorrow. He still had the rest of the night to share with Jessie.

  Robert kissed Jessie’s delicate ear lobe. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, catching her warm as honey gaze. ‘You have no idea how much this has meant to me.’ Then because he was greedy and because he couldn’t resist, he stole another kiss. ‘Now, let’s make use of that bathwater before it gets completely cold.’

  He slipped from the bed and returned with a warm damp wash cloth. Once he’d wiped Jessie’s stomach and himself clean, he put her shift and his breeches to rights.

  ‘Well, goodnight again,’ he said, bending to kiss her forehead near the scratch left by the rowan splinter. He rose to retrieve the discarded pillow from the floor.

  Jessie caught his hand. ‘Do no’ go. Sleep here, with me,’ she invited. ‘You’ll be more comfortable an’ we have another long day of riding ahead of us.’

  ‘As long as you promise to behave now,’ he teased with a mock frown.

  ‘I promise,’ Jessie said with a solemn smile and moved over to make room. Robert climbed in beside her and pulled her firmly against his side. He liked the way her body immediately moulded to his; her cheek
rested against his bare chest and her fingers curled around his shoulder. This felt so right to have her here in his arms.

  As Robert watched Jessie drift into sleep, he prayed this would not be the last time.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘The Invercauld Inn is just up ahead, Mr Grant.’

  Simon slowed his exhausted horse to a trot and glanced back at the English dragoon that had addressed him. ‘Thank you, Captain Slater. I’m counting on our quarry being holed up here.’

  Simon thanked God he’d had the foresight to post lookouts on all the roads leading south. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have known that Robert and Jessie had taken the longer route to the south-east along Caulfield’s Road toward Port-na-Craig. With any luck, they may have stopped in Invercauld for the night. The dragoons from the Braemar Castle Garrison had been most interested to hear that they might have a wanted Jacobite right under their very noses.

  Even if Robert and Jessie weren’t at the inn, and had decided to seek shelter in a barn or crofter’s hut, the locals may have seen them pass through the village. With her blazing red hair, his Jezebel would have caught some man’s eye.

  ‘Per’aps we could change our horses here, sir,’ suggested MacTaggart as their sizeable party that also included Baird, three other Black Watchmen and the four dragoons, clattered into the inn yard. ‘It’s probably the only place wi’ decent mounts hereabouts.’

  Simon hated to admit it, but MacTaggart was right. The sun had already set behind the Cairngorms several hours ago and all they had to light their way was a ponderous yellow moon. It would be foolish to travel any farther along the narrow, rutted Highland road on fatigued horses. Simon certainly wasn’t going to break his neck on Robert’s account.

  The inn, although small, was still open at this late hour. Leaving the business of stabling the horses and questioning the stablehands to most of the Watchmen, Simon headed for the taproom with Baird, MacTaggart, Captain Slater and his men. To Simon’s annoyance he found the dimly lit room was nearly filled to overflowing with men who looked like off-duty soldiers, dusty travellers, local crofters and drovers on their way to the Edinburgh markets. He’d be hard pressed to find a table without having to spend a coin or two.

  He scanned the room and noted the only women present were two comely serving girls waiting on the tables. There was no sign of Robert. He informed the dragoon captain who nodded and sent his men to question the taproom staff, the off-duty soldiers and other patrons.

  Simon turned to address MacTaggart over the noise of the rowdy throng. ‘You can go and question the innkeeper about who has sought accommodation for the night. And be quick about it.’

  MacTaggart’s eyes narrowed, but nevertheless, the insolent son of a bitch acquiesced. ‘Yes, sir.’

  Once the Watchman had departed, Simon pushed his way to the bar. At least he could partake of an ale or two whilst he waited for news. He spied a buxom, red-headed serving girl passing by with a tray of food. He smiled to himself. If his Jezebel wasn’t here, he could always sample whatever the tavern wench had to offer.

  Either way, he wouldn’t leave here until he was satisfied.

  * * *

  Despite his exhaustion, it didn’t take Robert long to realise that sleep would elude him as long as Jessie’s soft curves pressed up against him and her warm breath sighed gently across his chest. His body was already taut with desire for her yet again.

  With a frustrated sigh, he gently eased himself away from her, then quietly rose from the bed and dressed. A wee dram or two of whisky would probably relax him enough to sleep. Although there was still likely to be plenty of patrons in the taproom, he was not concerned. His strategy of hiding in plain view had worked remarkably well over the years, and he had no reason to believe that it would fail him now. A decade after Culloden, Invercauld was hardly a hot bed of illicit Jacobite activity. And as he’d told Jessie earlier, the local Redcoats wouldn’t be on the lookout for him.

  Aside from that, there was no way in hell that Simon would have had the stamina to travel this far south in one day, even if he’d thought to search along this route in the first place.

  Robert would bet his life that both he and Jessie were safe for tonight.

  As he eased on his coat, he noticed the slight crinkle of parchment in the inner breast pocket—his father’s letter of appeal to the Lord Advocate. After checking that it was securely in place, he glanced at Jessie, still soundly asleep. A soft smile curved his lips while he contemplated what it would feel like to be a free man; free to truly offer Jessie his hand in marriage. And how wonderful it would feel if she still said yes.

  The smile was still on his face as he pushed his way toward the bar. The crowd had thinned a little and aside from a few off-duty soldiers, there was no sign of the Watch or anything or anyone else he’d consider untoward. With whisky in hand, he was about to turn around to find a dark corner in the taproom when someone grabbed his shoulder in a tight almost painful grip. Then something hard and metallic, possibly a pistol muzzle, was thrust into his lower back in the vicinity of his left kidney.

  A low male voice hissed in his ear. ‘Well, well, Robert. If it isn’t the prodigal son himself.’

  Fuck. Simon. There was no mistaking his half-brother’s venomous tone. Robert froze, inwardly cursing himself for being too cock-sure and letting his guard down. He had seriously underestimated his opponent.

  Robert carefully placed his whisky on the counter and turned slowly, palms upraised in a gesture of surrender. Sure enough, a smirking Simon stood before him. He noted with a small degree of satisfaction that his brother was only able to manage a somewhat crooked grin given that his left jaw was empurpled and swollen with a rather impressive bruise.

  ‘Fancy meeting you here, dear brother,’ Simon taunted as he pushed the pistol into Robert’s stomach. Robert quickly scanned the room and swore under his breath again when he took in four dragoons standing at the ready near the doorway and another three Black Watchmen hovering behind Simon. He’d been well and truly ambushed. There was no way he could take on that many men, even without a cocked pistol pressing into his abdomen.

  Bloody, bloody hell. What a blind fool he’d been. The stakes were high and he had made a grievous miscalculation about Simon’s capacity for vengeance.

  And now Jessie was in danger. Fear, like nothing Robert had ever experienced before ripped mercilessly at his gut. If Simon found Jessie upstairs, alone, asleep …

  Simon’s gloating face reclaimed his attention. ‘Don’t even think about making a break for it. As you can see, there is no way that even a legendary Jacobite such as yourself can escape this time.’

  ‘I’m afraid this will all come to naught, Simon,’ Robert replied smoothly. ‘Father will be lodging an appeal for clemency with the Lord Advocate. Any hope you had of seeing me executed for treason is dead.’

  Simon’s snort approximated a laugh. ‘Well, I have to admire your optimism, if nothing else.’ His expression suddenly turned sly. ‘Or perhaps there is something else of your I admire … something that is actually mine.’ He glanced meaningfully toward the ceiling.

  Robert’s gut twisted with a potent combination of cold dread and white-hot anger. ‘What do you mean?’ he ground out, clenching his fists, envisioning the pleasing sight of pounding the lascivious smile from Simon’s face.

  Simon’s gaze returned to Robert’s. His eyes glittered with malicious intent. ‘I know which room she’s in, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me having her.’

  * * *

  Jessie started awake, her heart pounding. What had woken her? For a moment she was disorientated. She sat up and awareness came rushing back. She took in the four-poster bed, the washstand, the dying fire. And the fact that she was alone again.

  Why had Robert left and for how long had she been asleep? A rising wave of panic was exacerbated tenfold when there came a knocking at the door. It couldn’t be Robert—he had a key.

  The knocking halted and a gruff mal
e voice called out. ‘Miss Munroe, ye must wake. My name is MacTaggart. I am a Captain with the Black Watch and I work for Lord Strathburn. I must speak with ye urgently.’

  Oh God, something had happened. Please let Robert be all right. Her heart crashing against her ribs, Jessie slipped silently from the bed and threw her gown over her head. As she frantically tried to tie the laces of her bodice with trembling fingers, the man’s voice came again. ‘Miss Munroe, I have with me one of the innkeeper’s daughters, Mary, to show you I mean ye no harm. I ken ye are frightened but please, ye must believe tha’ I have nothing but honourable intentions for yer safety. Please let us in.’

  A young woman then spoke. ‘’Tis true what he says miss. I’m Mary. I served ye earlier.’

  Ignoring her protesting ankle, Jessie crossed to the door as fast as she could. Even though a maelstrom of thoughts and questions whirled about her head, she was not ready to open the door yet. She spoke through the heavy wood.

  ‘MacTaggart, you say?’ The man’s name was vaguely familiar for some reason. But did this man really work for Lord Strathburn or was he in the pay of Simon? Could she trust him? ‘What is going on? Why exactly are you here?’

  MacTaggart’s next words struck a cold hard blade of fear through Jessie’s heart. ‘Miss Munroe, Simon Grant is downstairs and is at this verra moment, apprehending Lord Lochrose. He has several dragoons and some of my men wi’ him. I have grave fears for yer safety.’

  Jessie slumped against the door, barely able to breathe. Simon was here. He had Robert. She must be in a nightmare. Any moment she would wake up and find herself nestled with Robert in the bed beside her.

  ‘Miss Munroe, I believe Mr Grant will shortly be paying ye a visit. Open the door and let Mary help ye get dressed.’

  MacTaggart was right. If Simon came upon her in her current state of dishabille … the situation didn’t bear thinking about. With shaking hands, Jessie unlocked the door to reveal a tall, heavily built man in a Black Watch plaid. A quivering Mary stood beside him.