Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic) (9 page)

Jocelyn made a small sound in the back of her throat and turned against him a little so that her cheek rested on his chest. The action caused her bottom to wriggle on his erection, and he swallowed the groan threatening to rip from his throat. He couldn’t help thrusting against that sinful ass a little, and shivers of want raced up his spine. He wanted nothing more than to ease her up and impale her on this cock and let the rhythm of the horse push them into orgasm, but he had more class than that.

When he finally had a chance to bed his wife, he would do so on his soft mattress where he could spend hours pleasing both her and himself. If she couldn’t love him, he was going to make damn sure she desired him.

Robbie glanced around at the men accompanying him and frowned at what he saw. His brothers and best friend sat alert in their saddles, ready to steady their horses should something, or someone, startle them. His new father-in-law and the priest, however, were drooping in their saddles. In fact, Robbie was pretty certain he saw the priest’s head bob in sleep a few times.

He suppressed an irritated curse and signaled to his brothers. In a low voice he gave the order to dismount and make camp. Jocelyn’s father came up to his side, and he silently passed her limp, relaxed body over to him. “I am impressed she is still sleeping,” Robbie said to him as he slid off his horse and began to remove the saddle.

Alasdair chuckled as he gazed down at his daughter with obvious affection. “She could sleep through almost anything. Except thunderstorms, that is. She got caught outside in a thunderstorm when she was but a wee lass. She took shelter in some kind of animal’s den, trying to wait out the storm. A bolt of lightning struck a tree, and it fell on top of her shelter and trapped her inside. It took us nearly two days to find her.

“The poor thing was only eight years, and she was convinced she was going to die there. To this day, whenever there is a thunderstorm, she holes herself up in her bed and clutches her pillow to her.”

Robbie’s heart went out to the small child who had been trapped with no hope. He could picture her crouching in the hole and crying out for her papa to save her. What he couldn’t picture was the woman he’d married cowering in a bed as she waited for a storm to pass. “What was she doing outside all by herself?” he asked, tying his reins to a tree and spreading his horse blanket on the ground.

Alasdair shook his head. “She was trying to follow her sister and her husband. Jocelyn insisted her brother-in-law was a bad man and she was going to free her sister from him. Wicked, she called him. The storm came on fast, and she could not get back home in time. I fear she is too much like me for her own good. She reads, writes, and can do sums.”

Alasdair shook his head sadly. “She should have been born a male, but God saw fit to put her in this tiny, delicate body. Still, she will do well by you, for once my Jocelyn makes a vow, she keeps it. And she will give you many handsome, braw sons as her sisters did their husbands.”

Robbie retrieved his sleeping wife and laid her out on the horse blanket. She curled into a ball, shivering in the night breeze. As she was wearing his spare plaid, he had nothing else to cover her with, so he unpinned his kilt and pulled it off his body.

Unwilling to sleep in just his tunic in the cold air, he lay down next to her and wrapped them both in his tartan. She turned around and nuzzled at him fitfully until he eased his arm under her head and pulled her close. He smiled grimly. Jocelyn might not want him, but her body knew exactly where it belonged. And she belonged right here, next to him.

He gazed around the makeshift camp site, watching as Jamie, Will and Colin divided the night into shifts. He was grateful when they took it upon themselves to build a small fire before Will sat down to keep watch while the other two drifted off to sleep. He could always count on his brothers and Colin to stand by him, even if they did not agree with his decision.

Jocelyn murmured in her sleep and tossed her arm over his waist, throwing her leg over his thigh at the same time. Her leg came to rest over his groin and the feel of her soft thigh pressing on his cock caused the bloody thing to stir. As it grew, he shifted his hips so her leg eased down, only to break into a sweat as it rubbed against the bottom of his erection enticingly.

She moved with him, muttering and pouting as she did. Her tartan rode up to her hips, and he found her bare pussy pressed directly against him. Her arm slid up his torso and ended up resting on his chest directly over his heart.

He stared down at her long, delicate fingers and tried not to think about how they would look wrapped around his cock. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, praying for his body to calm down and let him sleep.

Her gentle breath fluttered against his chest, and he focused on her slow, deep breathing. Gradually his muscles loosened, and he allowed his eyes to close and his mind to drift.

This was only the second time he had actually held a woman as she slept and he measured the sensations carefully. The warmth against his side, the slight weight draped across his front, and the brush of her eyelashes against his neck where she had nuzzled into him felt good. Wonderful, actually.

Robbie contemplated the idea of falling asleep like this every night for the rest of his life. If she snuggled into him so sweetly every night, the nights would soon become his favorite part of the day.

“Robbie?” she asked sleepily.

“Aye?” he whispered, anxious not to wake anyone now that he had finally given the order to rest for the night.

“What if the highwaymen come back?”

He stroked her back soothingly, sure that if she was fully awake, he would never get his hands on her. She was still too angry to let him touch her in any way. “Sleep, lass. I will keep you safe.”

Jocelyn melted back into him, falling asleep again as he played with the ends of her short hair. He would keep her safe, he vowed. And to do that, he would have to start reigning in her wild ways.

He pulled her closer to him, arranging her so that she lay mostly on top of him, telling himself he did this to avoid making her sleep on the hard ground instead of enjoying the feel of her body, and closed his eyes. He kept replaying the scene of her climax by the river in his mind. He was so agitated, his body hard and thrumming with lust.

Robbie was so aroused, he was tempted to take the matter into his own hands, or hand, he thought wearily, but decided against it. There was a priest present after all and to waste his seed was supposedly a sin, even though he had been taking care of his own needs for years.

He repositioned Jocelyn so that her head tucked under his chin again and resigned himself to having a permanent erection until he could get her into his bed and make love to her properly.

Chapter
6

Robbie woke to someone shaking him urgently. “Wake up, Robbie,” Jamie said sharply. Robbie groaned and rolled over, presenting his brother with his back. God, he hated mornings. All he wanted to do was cuddle back up with Jocelyn and sleep some more.

He opened one eye at the thought of his wife, suspicious at the lack of warmth against his back. Sighing he rolled onto his back again and yanked the plaid up to cover his rigid cock.

His cock was always hard in the morning, something he was usually able to ignore until he either took care of himself or poured cold water down his front. This morning it felt twice as large and exquisitely sensitive, as if someone had been stroking it quickly. “Where is my wife?” he asked, hoping the answer didn’t include an instruction to get on his horse and run after her.

Jamie cleared his throat and jerked his chin in the direction of the fire. “She is brewing a potion for the priest’s sore throat. Smells like a pile of rotten fish and horse dung. She is just trying to get back at him, if you ask me.”

Robbie grunted and threw his arm over his eyes, desperately willing his cock to relax. Perhaps if he vowed to cut it off at the balls, it would subside. “Why the hell did you feel it necessary to wake me then?” he asked irritably.

“Your kilt had ridden up,” he answered, grinning at him mischievously. “You were naked from the waist down.”

Robbie sat up and ran his hands through his hair, trying to work the tangles out without the benefit of a comb. “So? The only one who should be shy with that is my wife, and she needs to get used to the sight of me.”

Jamie heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Are you really going to make me say it? You were seeking to ease yourself, to put it delicately.”

Robbie felt the blush start at his neck and creep up to his face and ears. Good God, the whole camp had seen him stroking off while he slept! Jamie took pity on his obvious distress and thumped him on the back. “Do not fret, Robert. No one else noticed.”

Robbie nodded once and scrubbed his face with his palms, trying desperately to shake the sleep from his head. He felt horrible. He had lain awake most of the night, alternately fantasizing about bedding his wife and dreading the very same event. She had approached him at the river only because she had thought she would be a nun for the rest of her life. What would she think when she stared up at his scarred face and realized she was making love to a disfigured, mutilated man for the rest of her life?

His back hurt from lying on the ground. His chin prickled from nearly a week’s growth of beard. His eyes burned from lack of sleep. His skin itched from the buildup of dirt and grime acquired from nearly four days of travel. In short, he was miserable. And when he was miserable, he got cranky.

Struggling to his feet, Robbie yawned and wrapped his plaid around his middle. His knees and elbows cracked as he stretched. He shook his head. He was too young for his body to be falling apart.

Jamie did not help the situation when he slapped him on the back again. “Your knees are making more noise than my last wench, old man.”

Robbie shook him off and scowled. “Shut your mouth, boy,” he growled irritably.

Jamie backed off with his hands held up in the air. “Hold your tongue, Robbie. I was only trying to make you smile. No lass wants to see such a sour look on her man’s face.”

Robbie shoved past his brother, making sure to push him around a little. “I am sure it is not the scowl on my face she does not want to see.”

“Not that again,” Jamie said with a groan. “How many times do we have to tell you? It is not your scar that scares the lasses. It is your disposition.”

Robbie squelched the childish urge to stick his tongue out at Jamie and stalked over to the fire, where Jocelyn had finished coaxing the priest to swallow her vile brew and was now bending over Will with her head on his chest.

Robbie felt the snarl rise deep in his throat, but he was unable to quell it. He reached them just as Jocelyn was raising her head. “Your rattle seems to have disappeared. Have you been coughing?” she asked.

Will shook his head and reached out his hand to help Jocelyn straighten. Jealously roared through Robbie at the simple touch. How dare Will handle his wife? He stepped deliberately between them and scowled down at her. “Are you quite finished with my brother?” he snapped, feeling decidedly possessive of his new wife.

She looked up at him, the confusion on her face melting into temper. “I see you are not a morning person,” she said in a sickeningly sweet tone.

“Well, what did you expect? I wake up to find my wife with her hands all over my own brother.”

Jocelyn stamped one tiny foot, looking as if she wanted to scream. “I was merely checking his cough. You are nothing but an ogre.” She stormed off into the woods, her father shaking his head at Robbie before following after her.

Robbie grunted and poked at the fire with a stick, knowing he was acting unreasonable but unable to help himself. He cursed violently when the smoke stung his eyes.

Pushing Will’s hand away when he offered him stale oatcakes for breakfast, Robbie bared his teeth at Colin when he dared to approach him with a concerned expression on his face. “Damn me, man. I have got your horse saddled. Go and fetch your errant wife and her father.”

Robbie sighed at the thought of spending another day on a horse with his silent wife sitting rigidly in front of him. His thighs cramped at the very thought of being held motionless for so long, but he was desperate to get home, not only to bed his wife but because someone was raiding his cattle and crops more than usual. Every minute he spent away from home was a minute his people were left without their leader.

He hauled himself to his feet and resigned himself to coaxing an angry Jocelyn back on to the horse. At least he didn’t need to go and fetch them as Jocelyn and her father came back. Jamie walked over to her, bringing her an oatcake, which she accepted with a grateful expression and a smile. It was easy to see from the expression on Jamie’s face he was quickly becoming infatuated with her. He laughed at something she said and patted her shoulder. Good thing Jamie was his brother. Robbie would have to kill him otherwise.

Robbie’s jealousy returned in full force, so intense that he wondered if his eyes had turned green. Feeling grumpy, he stormed over, grabbed Jocelyn by the waist, carried her over to his mount and hoisted her onto the horse before mounting behind her. She turned to glare at him then giggled at something she saw over his shoulder.

He looked back and saw Will doing an exaggerated impression of him, pretending to fling Colin over his saddle. Jocelyn’s shoulders shook with mirth as she watched the show. Robbie cleared his throat loudly. “Are you quite finished?”