Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic) (17 page)

The softly whispered statements caused the tingling in her lower body to spread and intensify. She struggled to stay still, but her thighs began to rub together as if they had a mind of their own. She felt her pussy becoming wet in preparation for his possession. “Begging?” she breathed.

He nibbled lightly on her earlobe before speaking again. “Mmmm…and just when you think you cannot take it anymore, I will move my mouth from your breasts to your pretty little clit, like I did before. Do you remember the feel of my lips closing over it?”

She shifted in aroused agitation, and he laughed. “I will suck on you and lick you while I put my finger inside your pussy. I will find that spot deep inside you that had you bucking. Oh, sweeting, I will move my fingers inside you until you clench around them. Your clit will pulse against my mouth, just like it did before.”

Robbie flipped her skirt up to her knees and slid his hands between his legs. His fingers sought and found her clit, flicking over it with the tip of his finger. His touch, coupled with the powerful memory of what he had done to her before sent her over the edge. Her breath caught in her throat until she sighed out his name, the sensitive nubbin of her clit flexing furiously. She felt so empty, so ready for him to take her. She fairly collapsed against his arm and panted, turning her face into his neck to hide the evidence of what had just happened.

Robbie growled low in his throat and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to support her. “You just climaxed,” he stated, pride shining in his eyes. Her cheeks heated, and she knew she was blushing.

She cast her eyes downward and looked up at him through her lashes. The arm around her shoulder shook as a shudder rolled through him and he leaned down again. “Jocelyn, I cannot wait to have you. I need you so much, I cannot keep still.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. Every head in the dining hall swiveled to look at them. “They know, Robbie,” she whispered.

“Ignore them, imp,” he advised, keeping his head held high. He dragged her toward the stairs leading to the bedchambers and everyone assembled burst into applause. Her already pink cheeks heated even more until she was sure she was as red as a berry, but she grinned and tightened her grip on her husband’s hand.

Just as they had reached the stairs, the doors to the inner bailey swung open with a crash, and a young stable boy came roaring in, shouting at the top of his lungs. “Thieves!” he hollered. “Thieves! Another ten head of cattle are missing.”

The room burst into action. The men rose as one, strapped swords, daggers, knives and all manners of weapons of various sizes to their backs or arms as they rushed to the door. The stable boy yelled that the other lads were saddling the mounts. The women flattened themselves against the walls, trying to stay out of the way.

Jocelyn looked up at Robbie and saw the indecision flashing across his face. “Go, Robbie,” she said quietly, cupping his cheek. “Your men need you.”

He nodded and leaned down, planting a swift, hard kiss on her mouth. “Be ready for me when I get back,” he said, and ran after his men, pulling out his sword as he went.

Jocelyn sighed and looked around the near-empty room. What was she to do now? She was technically mistress of the keep now, but she didn’t want to make the women feel as if she was stepping on their toes.

She smiled at the women who were making their way back to the middle of the room and righting the chairs, relieved when they smiled back at her. The door to the kitchens opened, and a large man made his way over to her. “My lady,” he said. “I am Caleb, and I am the cook here. We met when you first arrived but you have met so many people, I wasn’t sure if you remembered me. I am very pleased to finally have a mistress. It has been a long time since we have had someone to oversee the menus.”

She grinned at him, thankful he had given her a starting point. “Please, Caleb, call me Jocelyn. Now, what are the laird’s favorite dishes?”

Chapter
11

The men did not return until the evening meal. They came into the hall, quiet and dejected, slumping in their chairs and frowning into the mugs of ale the kitchen maids were quickly serving. It was clear they had neither recovered the missing cattle nor discovered those responsible for their disappearance.

Jocelyn watched as Robbie dropped into his chair, his gaze far off and brooding. Caleb had told her their stores were getting dangerously low. Not only were cattle being stolen, but their crops were being destroyed as well. The situation must be weighing heavily on his shoulders, as he was the one who was supposed to protect and provide for his people.

She watched him lean back in his chair and rub the back of his neck, a gesture she was quickly coming to interpret as one that meant he was disturbed.

Hoping to ease the anxiety she saw on his face, she picked up a trencher and loaded it with portions of Robbie’s favorite things. She carefully arranged the capon with honeyed almonds, fresh sweet peas, and soft white bread. Grabbing a mug of goat’s milk from a passing maid, she worked her way up to the high table, placing the meal and drink in front of him. She kissed his cheek and served his brothers before sitting down on his right.

Will leaned across Robbie and picked up her hand. “Thank you, Jocelyn,” he said simply, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

Jocelyn had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the glare Robbie threw his brother’s way.

“Easy, brother,” Will commented lightly. “It has been a long time since we have been served by such a beauty.”

“Keep your eyes to yourself,” Robbie growled back but winked at Jocelyn playfully before taking a swig of milk.

“I see you have decided not to serve him ale,” Jamie interrupted with a grin. “Thank you! I did not relish the idea of cleaning up after him again.”

“Aye,” Jocelyn said, trying desperately to keep a straight face. “I wish to have him awake when I have my way with him this time.”

Jamie and Will roared with laughter, drawing every eye to toward the high table. Slowly, the crowd of people began to talk and soon the mood was merry. How could anyone be depressed with the loud laughter still ringing from the high table?

Someone lifted a fiddle and began playing a reel, people singing along and dancing. Robbie narrowed his eyes at her and moved closer. “You plan to have your way with me then?” he asked softly, his breath feathering along her neck in the most delicious way.

“I would rather you had your way with me!” she shot back, pleased to see his gaze darken.

His brown eyes seemed to glow, and he smiled at her seductively. He said nothing, merely glancing at her occasionally, keeping her on the edge of her seat. He shoveled his food into his mouth, seemingly intent to whisk her away as soon as he could. In fact, the meal had hardly started when he was pushing his chair back and grabbing her hand.

Rather than yank her through the throngs of people gathered in the hall, he simply lifted her high in his arms and rushed her out of the dining hall, grinning shamelessly when the crowd began to hoot and holler. Robbie rushed up the stairs and into their chamber, pushing the door closed with his foot.

Her body heated at the sight of the bed and the memory of what had happened there. She couldn’t wait to experience everything Robbie had promised her.

He set her gently on her feet and bent down to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, pouting when he leaned away from her slightly. “I want you very much, loving,” he said roughly. “Let me take this at my own pace, else this will be over much too soon.”

Closing her eyes, she let his words flow over her. Loving. He had called her loving. He had been calling her that for some time now, in fact. Her heart gave a funny little jolt at the idea of being his love. She had never expected she would love and be loved in an arranged marriage. But perhaps that wasn’t too far off the mark. The question now wasn’t whether she could love him, because she very well could. The question now was how she could protect herself against the heartache he could cause if he didn’t return her love.

“Here now, imp. You are thinking too hard,” he said quietly, touching the tip of her nose with his forefinger.

Jocelyn shook her head to rid it of her troubling thoughts. She tilted her head back and offered him her lips. “Kiss me, Robbie,” she whispered.

Robbie smiled at her, a soft, gentle smile before touching his mouth lightly to hers. He kissed her sweetly and slowly, framing her face with his hands. The callused palms scraped tenderly against her jaw. “You are so beautiful, my Jocelyn,” he murmured, kissing her cheeks, forehead, and eyelids before returning to her mouth.

Sensation shot from her lips straight to her womb, each nerve ending quivering with anticipation of what was to come. She groaned and reached to tangle her hands in his hair. She would let him take his time. Later she would have her chance to love him quickly.

Bam, bam, bam!
This time when the knock came, it was Jocelyn who swore. Robbie smiled through his obvious annoyance. “I did not know that was possible,” he commented on her dirty suggestion as he pulled open the door.

A maid stood there, panting and sweating. “Rowan bid me to call on you, my lady. It is Anna. She is having trouble birthing the babe. The midwife has requested your help.”

Before the next words were out of his mouth, Jocelyn was out the door behind him. “How long has she been in labor?” she asked as they ran down the step and straight out the doors.

Rowan led the way to their small cottage. “Almost all day,” he said.

Jocelyn’s foot slipped in a patch of mud, but she was saved by a hand quickly gripping her elbow. Surprised, she looked up to see Robbie right next to her.

They crowded in the door of the modest cottage. “Sit there,” she said, pointing to the two chairs placed in front of the fireplace. The two men obeyed without question.

Jocelyn entered into the bedchamber to find the room eerily quiet. Something was not right. Labor and delivery was a noisy process. The midwife looked up gratefully. “The bairn is breech and too big to pass through her passage. I need help turning the child.”

Jocelyn nodded and pushed her sleeves up. She had assisted with a turning once before, though the midwife back home had turned the babe well before labor had started. Still, it was the only thing they could do.

She spoke soothingly to Anna. “Tell me the names you have decided on, Anna,” she said as she and the midwife pushed and pulled at her swollen belly.

“Rowan, after his father if it is a boy. Mary if it is a girl,” she said weakly.

“Those are good names,” Jocelyn said. “Strong names.”

Anna cried out with pain as the baby began to turn. Finally the baby was in position.

“Push, Anna,” the midwife ordered.

“I cannot,” she said feebly. It was clear she was far too tired to push any longer.

“I will help you,” Jocelyn told her firmly. “Tell me when you have the next pain.”

“Now!” Anna panted.

Jocelyn laid her hands on her stomach just behind the babe and pushed with all her might, ignoring the screams of the agonized mother.

“Again,” the midwife ordered.

Over and over again, Jocelyn pushed the baby toward freedom until at last the baby was out, healthy and pink and squalling her little lungs out.

Jocelyn bent down and brushed Anna’s sweaty hair out of her face. “It seems you have a Mary,” she said. She patted the other woman’s hand as Anna began to cry softly.

The midwife wrapped the baby in a blanket that had been lovingly fashioned and handed the small bundle to Jocelyn. She gazed down at the precious face while the midwife delivered Anna’s placenta.

“Will you take her to see Rowan?” Anna asked.

She glanced at the midwife’s face and noted the relieved smile. Jocelyn breathed a sigh of relief at the midwife’s silent reassurance that Anna would be fine. “Of course,” she said to Anna.

She slipped through the door, closing it quietly behind her. She found Rowan sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall with tears coursing down his face. Robbie sat next to him silently, a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

They looked up at her and jumped to their feet at the same time. “You have a daughter,” she said to Rowan as she eased her cherished load into his arms. The squalling infant quieted instantly as if she immediately recognized her father.

The man stared down at his daughter with awe, though the anxiety still radiated from him. “My Anna?” he asked, unable to say the words.

“She will be fine,” Jocelyn assured him.

She looked at Robbie and was surprised to see his eyes burning with emotion. She smiled tremulously at him and made her way to his side.

“Rowan,” the midwife said as she poked her head through the door, “Anna is ready for you and Mary now.”

Robbie squeezed Rowan’s shoulder gently as he passed by. “She is beautiful, Rowan. She will make her clan proud.”

Rowan tore his eyes away from his new daughter and looked Robbie straight in the eye. “Thank you, my laird,” he said huskily. “For everything.”

Robbie nodded, and his face stretched into a wide grin. “Go and see your wife. Thank her for your new little miracle,” Robbie urged, nudging him toward the room.