Conall: The 93rd Highlanders, Book Two (10 page)

“
I’m too big
for the cot,” Graeme said. “I hope you don’t mind if we do it this
way tonight. We’ll figure something else out, but right now all I
can think about is getting inside of this pretty cunt.” He flipped
her skirt up, and she felt the cold air on her damp sex and she
shuddered. Graeme ran a hand down over one cheek of her buttock and
pinched it, making her jump. He soothed the sting by rubbing it.
“Is this all right, Avril?”

She nodded. “Yes,” she
whispered, playing loose again by spreading her legs and rising up
onto her toes, offering herself to him. He laughed quietly behind
her.

“
Ah, you
don’t know what it means to see you so eager,” he said
appreciatively.

“
Conall liked
that too,” she ventured after a moment’s hesitation.

Graeme’s hand tightened
on her rump, his grip almost painful. She bit back a moan. “Did
he?” he asked, his voice rough. “Was he eager?”

She nodded. “Yes,” she
told him, realizing this was what he and Conall would do later,
talk about her. “Yes, he likes to fuck. He likes to come too.
Sometimes we’d fuck, and other times I’d help him with our hands
and we’d watch him come together.”

Graeme groaned behind
her, and in one swift thrust he was inside her. Avril cried out at
how good he felt. He stretched her tight, but there was no
discomfort. She was so wet from his mouth he glided in and out
smoothly. But the size of him made her feel things she’d never felt
before. In less than a minute she was rocking back into him hard,
as hard as he was driving into her. The slap of his flesh meeting
hers was arousing, everything was arousing—the sounds they made,
the feel of him, the urgency of it, the scent of their lovemaking.
He leaned over and grasped her breasts in both hands as he tugged
her harder onto him and she was surrounded by him. With a gasp she
felt herself about to come.

“
So close,”
she cried out. “Don’t stop.” And then she was tipped over the ledge
and falling hard. Graeme didn’t stop. He kept pounding into her,
driving her pleasure higher, and then he, too, came with a shout,
calling her name.

After it was over he
helped her to lie down on her cot, and covered her with her plaid
and blanket. “Do you wish me to stay?” he asked softly, running the
backs of his fingers along her cheek, brushing the hair off her
face.

She shook her head. “Go
to Conall.”

“
Why?” he
whispered, indecision on his face.

“
I don’t
know.” She smiled sleepily. “I like the idea of it, of the two of
us sharing you like this.” The truth slipped out of her drowsy
mouth and she knew she ought to be ashamed of it, but she wasn’t.
She rolled over and kept smiling as he tended the fire in the stove
and then slipped out into the night.

When Graeme left Avril’s
tent he found Hamish sitting outside in front of the fire,
whittling on a small stick. He stopped short at the sight of
Conall’s brother, not sure what sort of greeting he’d get. After
all, he’d just fucked the woman they all knew Conall was in love
with. He’d been kind to Graeme once, but that was before this night
with Avril.

“
Fletcher,”
he said carefully.

Hamish blew the curls of
wood from the stick and smoothed a finger along it. “Munro,” he
said conversationally. “And how are you this evening?”

“
Fine, thank
you. And you?” Graeme knew he sounded like an idiot, conversing as
though at a country ball.

“
Fine,”
Hamish said, his attention on the stick in his hand. “I was walking
by and happened upon some blokes looking for trouble. So I shooed
them away and thought I’d sit by the fire for a bit.”

“
I see,”
Graeme said, trying to discern his meaning. “Did these blokes know
I was in there?”

“
Yes, they
did,” Hamish said. “Did you lock her door?”

Graeme frowned. “No. She
was asleep.”

“
Well,”
Hamish said, stopping to blow off his whittling stick again, “I’ve
got nothing to do tonight. Not sleeping so well these days. Missing
company, if you know what I mean.”

Graeme did know. “Perhaps
I should stay as well,” he offered, looking back at Avril’s hut
with a frown.

“
Ach,” Hamish
said, dismissing his offer. “Don’t bother. I think someone’s
waiting to see you in your tent.”

“
Is there
anything in this camp you don’t know?” Graeme asked
wryly.

“
Might be,”
Hamish said with a grin. “But I don’t know of it.” He waved Graeme
off. “Go on. I’ll watch your girl.”

“
She’s still
Conall’s,” Graeme argued. Hamish laughed aloud and then looked
around, choking his laughter back to a garbled chuckle.

“
Of course
she is,” he said. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“
I care for
her too.” Graeme defended himself.

“
Of course
you do,” Hamish agreed. “That’s also the point.” He sighed. “Go on.
You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Graeme left Avril’s hut
behind, trusting Hamish to watch over her. He walked briskly back
to his tent, the cold night air clearing his mind of everything. He
pretended Conall wasn’t waiting, that things weren’t rolling out of
his control. He’d vowed never to come between Conall and Avril, had
vowed never to sully the boy with his unnatural desires. And yet
here in one night he was going to break both vows. Maybe he could
still preserve his honor. He could turn Conall away. Yet wasn’t it
Conall’s desire and his approval that had put him inside Avril
tonight? It was all a muddle.

Before he knew it, he
stood in front of his tent. He froze, just standing there staring
at the entrance in a potent mix of fear and anticipation. Perhaps
Conall hadn’t come, despite Hamish’s words. He may have fled,
common sense taking over. Or he might be in there, waiting for
Graeme and God knew what.

Graeme berated himself
for his cowardice and resolutely stepped forward and pulled the
tent flap aside. Conall spun to face him in the light of the moon
and distant campfires. He’d been pacing, from the looks of him. In
one glance Graeme could see that he’d removed his sword and sash
and his jacket lay open across his chest. Suddenly his own chest
felt tight and breathing was difficult.

“
Well?”
Conall asked, his hands on his hips. There was an underlying
tension in his voice that seemed to have more to do with Graeme’s
presence than with what had happened with Avril. Or perhaps Graeme
just hoped it did.

“
Well, what?”
he asked, stepping inside and letting the tent flap fall. It was
near pitch dark in the tent and he stood there for a moment,
letting his eyes adjust. “Why didn’t you light the fire or a lamp?”
Graeme asked in exasperation. “It’s damn cold and dark in here.” He
started for the table that held the matches and lamp, but Conall
stopped him.

“
No,” he said
harshly. Graeme stopped and turned his head to stare at him. “I
don’t want to be silhouetted against the tent,” he said with
amusement.

“
Why not?”
Graeme asked. He wasn’t sure why he was pushing Conall like this.
He wanted it out in the open, wanted to confront the elephant in
the room. His heart was pounding and his hands fisted at his sides.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight or fuck. It was as if he
hadn’t just left Avril’s body, as if his passion hadn’t been
soothed by her sweet and wild touch.

“
You know
why,” Conall told him calmly. “Did you fuck Avril? Tell
me.”

“
Yes,” Graeme
said harshly. “Is that what you wanted to hear? That I broke my own
vow to leave her alone, that I did it because it was what you
wanted. Christ!” he exclaimed, covering his face with his hands.
“What have you done to me? What have I let you do?”

He heard and felt Conall
move closer, right in front of him. He could smell him and feel his
heat. His cock rose, though he tried to prevent it. Tried to tell
himself it wasn’t right, wasn’t what he wanted. But it was, it
was.

“
Which hand?”
Conall asked quietly. “Which hand did you have on her sweet cunt,
Graeme?”

Graeme didn’t answer
right away, his harsh breaths cutting the silence between them.
Then he slowly pulled his right away from his face and held it out
to Conall, who began to pull Graeme’s glove off, loosening one
finger at a time. Graeme thought his heart would pound out of his
chest and he’d come just from that slight undressing.

When he had the glove
off, Conall tossed it toward the table. Graeme wasn’t sure if it
made it, neither man looked. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from
Conall, who couldn’t stop staring at Graeme’s hand. Then Conall
pulled Graeme’s hand to his face and breathed deeply. He sighed in
contentment.

“
There it
is,” he whispered. “The smell of her. God, she smells so good on
you, Graeme.” To Graeme’s utter astonishment, Conall leaned forward
and sucked his finger into his mouth. His first instinct was to try
to snatch it out, but Conall held tight as he sucked on that
finger. His tongue worked it, and Graeme was forcibly reminded of
Avril’s mouth on his cock earlier. He groaned and could see
Conall’s smile around the finger in his mouth. Conall’s beard was
heavy but so soft against his hand. All the Fletcher men had heavy,
red beards. They all looked like the Highlanders they were. Conall
moved up and down on his finger, just as Avril had earlier, and
Graeme had to widen his stance, reached down to cup his cock as it
hardened. His head fell back and it was Conall’s turn to groan. He
let go of Graeme’s finger and licked his palm and Graeme’s arm
jerked again.

“
What are you
doing, Conall?” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“
I don’t
really know,” Conall answered, rubbing his cheek on Graeme’s hand.
“Whatever feels good.” He stopped and leaned down to press his nose
to Graeme’s open hand again. “Will your cock taste like her?” he
asked softly, his lips brushing against his palm, and Graeme
shuddered.

“
Yes,” he
answered, cursing his weakness even as he said it.

He reached for Conall’s
arm as the other man’s legs folded beneath him, trying to catch him
and stop him, but Conall went to his knees and ran his hands under
Graeme’s kilt onto his bare thighs, just as Avril had done earlier.
“She did this for me. Did she do it for you?” Conall’s question was
a little breathless, his voice rough.

“
Yes,” Graeme
said, and it was almost a groan.

“
That’s all I
know of it,” Conall said. His fingers dug into Graeme’s thighs. “I
haven’t done it to another man. Have you?”

“
Yes.” Now
was when Graeme had to confess all. He had to drive Conall away
before they were all in over their heads. “I’ve done it to several
men, and had it done to me by both men and women.”

“
You’ve
always known, then,” Conall said, and he sounded envious. “I wish
I’d known sooner what this was between us. With practice I’ll make
you forget the others.” He grabbed Graeme’s kilt and yanked it up,
wrapping his big, rough fist around Graeme’s cock so quickly Graeme
had no chance to stop him. It felt so good his knees trembled and
he reached out to balance himself on Conall’s broad
shoulders.

Conall leaned forward
immediately and took Graeme’s cock in his mouth, as though he were
afraid he’d lose his courage. Graeme bit his lip hard to keep from
shouting out loud at how good it felt. He tasted blood in his mouth
but he didn’t dare let go of his lip or the whole camp would hear
him and know how good it felt to fuck Conall’s mouth. At first
Conall just held Graeme’s cock in his mouth lightly, breathing
heavily through his nose, squeezing the base in his fist until it
was just short of too much. Then Conall’s mouth tightened and he
pulled his head back until just the tip was snug in that sweet, hot
cavern. He played with him, tonguing him, and again Graeme compared
it to Avril earlier. She’d done the same thing. When Conall slipped
his tongue into Graeme’s slit, he fisted Conall’s hair and tried to
yank him off, but Conall was stronger than Avril and would have
none of it. Instead he slid down onto him again, until he gagged
slightly and had to pull back.

“
I’m too big
for that,” Graeme said breathlessly. “Just suck it.”

Conall refused to obey—at
least that was what it seemed like to Graeme. He didn’t just suck.
He toyed with him, sucking and licking and jerking him with his
hand until Graeme was whimpering, his lips locked tight lest he
rouse the whole camp with his cries. Never, never had a man’s mouth
felt so good on him. He’d had men take him deeper, be rougher, suck
harder, but Conall instinctively knew what Graeme wanted, what he
liked. When Conall groaned around his cock, Graeme knew he was
enjoying it just as much. It was a bit of a test, wasn’t it? Taking
another man’s prick in your mouth for the first time to see if you
could handle it. Conall was handling it better than
Graeme.

Suddenly Conall’s other
hand slid up Graeme’s thigh to his hip and then trailed down
through his pubic hair and slid between his legs. He cupped
Graeme’s stones, rolled them in his fingers and then roughly tugged
and Graeme lost the battle. He gave a short, harsh cry, clutching
Conall’s hair and fucking into his mouth. If Conall hadn’t kept a
fist on him it would have choked him. Graeme was beyond caring. Let
the lad see what he’d started, see where it led. He used his fist
in Conall’s hair as he’d used it in Avril’s, to pump his head up
and down his cock, fucking him.