His hand slipped to her dark head. He had taught her months before how to suck his cock, but something instinctual had taken over and she had refined the task into the sweetest of tortures. He felt her mouth opening now to absorb as much of him as she could. She began to tug upon the peg of flesh within her mouth with delicate pulls that grew stronger and stronger. Then, sensing his excitement, she would pull back, her tongue caressing his length and his thickness as it lay imprisoned between her lips. The wicked bit of flesh stroked him, encircled him, but never allowed him release. Finally he could bear no more of this deliciousness. “Enough!” he growled in a hoarse voice, and as she released him he pulled her up to kiss her hungrily.
She loved teasing him. She had discovered almost immediately that she had an instinct for pleasuring him without bringing him to completion. Now it was her turn, and Angus Ferguson did not fail his wife. He kissed her until her lips were bruised. His tongue ravaged hers until she was weak. Then he stopped and, seating her upon the edge of the big bed, he pushed her gently back, pulled her shapely legs up over his shoulders, and buried his dark head between her thighs. The tip of his tongue found her love button, touching it lightly at first, then with delicate, quick touches, until Annabella could not refrain from making small noises as his tongue began to stroke her strongly. Then his lips closed over that sensitive little nub of flesh and sucked hard, releasing the first flow of her juices. Annabella shuddered with the tiny burst of pleasure.
Now he raised himself up. Holding his swollen cock in his hand, he guided it into her welcoming sheath with a single hard and deep thrust. “God, ye feel good!” he groaned as he filled her full. Then he began to piston her.
Annabella couldn’t speak at first. His cock moved slowly but steadily, its speed increasing slightly with each strong stroke until it flashed in and out of her with incredible rapidity. Then he would slow his pace again, and when he did Annabella squeezed him, the walls of her sheath closing about him so tightly that he cried out at one point. Then the movement began once again. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth until they were both drenched in utter pleasure.
“Dinna wait,” she whispered hotly in his ear.
“I canna,” he admitted, increasing the tempo that shortly sent them both over the edge and into paradise as his juices flooded her secret garden and she cried out with her need fulfilled. He fell on the bed next to her then.
For some minutes they lay motionless: Annabella with her legs now fallen over the edge of the bed, Angus on his belly near her. Finally she managed to crawl up and beneath the coverlet, tugging at him to do the same, for the night air was becoming chill.
He pulled her into his arms with a groan into her long loose hair, and whispered that he adored her.
“I love ye too, Angus,” she responded. “But send someone to catch the Hamiltons’ messenger before he escapes us.”
He laughed softly. “I hae just loved ye verra well, wife, and ye canna enjoy the afterglow?” he teased her. He released his hold on her, climbing from their bed to yank upon the bellpull. To his relief his serving man, Tormod, appeared immediately, entering through the small door that connected the earl’s bedchamber to his wife’s. “Send several men-at-arms to catch the Hamilton messenger who came to my brother’s house. Treat him well, but put him in the castle dungeon. He may still be at Matthew’s or he may have departed either back south or toward Dumbarton.”
“At once, my lord,” Tormod replied with a quick bow, and was gone again. He was not in the least disconcerted by his master’s naked state.
Angus Ferguson climbed back into bed to pull his wife close. She murmured sleepily, for she was already slipping into rest. In a few hours she would want to play again, he knew. Annabella had gained a healthy appetite for bed sport, he considered with a grin. He chuckled, and concentrated on sleep. The demanding wench would be awake soon enough.
But to his surprise they both slept until Jean awakened them just as dawn was breaking. “They caught the messenger,” she said by way of greeting. “Get up now, for the day is beginning, and yer breakfast will soon be in the hall.”
The earl got up and, walking to the little door separating the bedchambers, passed through it so that he might have the services of his serving man.
“He still has a fine ass,” Jean remarked pithily. “I remember when we swam together as children. What will ye wear today?”
“Something that doesna make me look all female and fragile,” Annabella said.
“Ahh, ye’re planning some naughtiness,” Jean remarked, “aren’t ye?”
“The lad I once was must be resurrected,” Annabella said. Then she explained everything that had happened yesterday.
“Aye, Ned told me of Matthew’s lapse in judgment,” Jean said. “Did Angus really forbid him the castle?”
“Aye, until his anger cools. I think that once we can correct this situation, Jean, Angus will nae be quite so angry, but questioning the earl’s judgment was not a wise thing for Matthew to do. It is his antipathy toward me that seems to direct this. Why does he persist in disliking me so, Jeannie?”
“Because he’s a fool,” her tiring woman said. “Matthew has always almost worshiped Angus. He felt Angus should hae a woman as beautiful as Angus was handsome, and wi’ a large dower to match his brother’s wealth. Instead Angus took ye, a plain-faced lass, to wife for a piece of land he coveted. I think my brother thinks ye are nae worthy of his idol.”
“He told Angus I was too bold,” Annabella said as Jean laced up her gown.
Jean laughed. “Matthew is an old-fashioned man. He thinks women should be silent, yet neither our mother nor Angus’s mother was meek and mild. Is Aggie?”
“Aggie is like our mother: quiet to a point, but she will speak up when she hae had enough, and believes a situation needs correcting,” Annabella explained. “I think she may hae given poor Matthew quite a piece of her mind when she learned what he had done. Angus scolded her severely for nae telling him what she knew until it was almost too late. She is nae used to a woman’s first loyalty being to her overlord, nae her husband. I think Angus hae made that quite clear to her now, however.”
“Aye, I expect that he did,” Jean agreed. “He hae had the responsibility of Duin ever since he was a young lad. He is a good lord.”
“Aye, he is,” Annabella said.
Jean dressed her mistress’s hair. “Ye’re ready,” she said.
“Thank ye.” Annabella got up and hurried from her apartments down into the hall. Angus was not yet there, but Agnes was already seated at the high board. Annabella joined her younger sister. “Feel better this morning?” she asked Agnes.
Agnes nodded, but then she said, “I think I should take Robbie and go home today, Annabella. Angus is certain to be angry until he can straighten out Matthew’s foolishness, I fear.”
“Angus hae told ye ye’re to remain in the castle until he gives ye permission to leave,” Annabella reminded her sibling. “He is the earl, the laird here, sister. It is his word that prevails, nae mine nor yers nor Matthew’s. Ye are nae stupid, Aggie, and this is nae Rath, where our da is laird, husband, and father. This is Duin. We owe our very existence to its earl. Why can ye nae understand this?”
