Their Private Arrangement (4 page)

Duggan looked directly at her with a wistful gaze.

At first she thought that they wanted more reassurance, but as she looked from one to the other of them she saw that something weighed upon them. They were relying on her to protect them from discovery—that much she knew. As a lowly serving girl at the inn she often saw and heard more than those who took their lodgings there. Those who had secrets to hide and needed the loyalty of a reliable go-between. Levelheaded as she was, Morag judiciously assisted those who were kind to her. Mostly, she thought nothing more of it. Not today. It had been the strangest day of her life, and she had the feeling it was not yet over.

She took a seat where Mr. Grant indicated, on a stool by the fireplace.

“There is a matter we wish to discuss with you,” Mr. Grant stated. “You're a sensible young woman, and I feel sure you know that Duggan and I are closer than most men.”

He looked at her expectantly. They both did.

She shook her head quickly. “No, I am not sensible, sire.” She glanced from one of them to the other. “But I confess that I know of the unusual nature of your relationship.”

“It does not repel you?” Mr. Grant asked.

Again she shook her head. “I do not claim to have knowledge of such things, but there are many things in this world that I do not know about and I decided a long time ago that it is not my place to judge something that I do not fully understand.”

Mr. Grant smiled her way, and there was fondness in it. “You are a good-natured woman, with your feet firmly planted on the ground.”

She blushed at that, finding herself pleased. At that moment Duggan moved closer. Standing alongside Mr. Grant, Duggan watched her with caution.

“Others think more harshly of us, even though we harm no one,” Mr. Grant continued. “They call our bond indecent. The punishment they would dole out is cruel. The pillory, jail, or the death penalty.”

The harsh images he conjured made her shiver. Morag wrapped her hands around her upper arms and allowed herself a lingering glance at Duggan. When she did, it drove the fears deeper.

Mr. Grant drew her attention back, continuing slowly with his explanation. “If we were to be called out we would be scorned, hated, for that which we call love.”

She shook her head, denying it, even though she knew it to be true. The thought of her menfolk suffering such things made her sick in her belly.

“But we know these things, and there is no changing that,” he added. “What we really need to know is what you see, Morag, when you look at us?”

Morag was not used to being asked for her opinion on anything further than what turn the weather might take that day, or if the stable hands had the horses ready, and she was quite startled. She looked across at the two of them and meshed her fingers together over her apron. The room fell somehow overburdened, as if the immensity of what was being said weighed heavily upon the place itself. She felt as if they were tethered yet held apart. Three isolated folk who had been strangely drawn together in this room, the goings-on at the inn that day making them more aware of what was at stake.

“I want your honest reaction,” he added, “please do not be afraid. It is important.”

“I see that you two are together in spirit, heart and deed, more so than some wedded couples are.” It was the honest truth.

Duggan glanced at Mr. Grant with hope in his eyes, but Mr. Grant focused solely on her.

“That is true, and you are a decent woman to notice such things.” He paused and grew even more serious as he continued. “What about the fact that we sometimes lie together as a wedded couple might, does that disturb you?”

Morag's fingers meshed together more tightly. She felt her face grow hot.

Mr. Grant fidgeted with his necktie. “Honesty, remember, we need to be open about such things if we are to remain…friends.”

Again Morag was startled by his remark. Friendship was not something a man of his status would normally think of regarding a servant such as herself. “It is odd, sire, but I found myself quite pleasantly roused by the notion that you two are bedded down together.”

Saying that aloud made her feel agitated. It was the truth, strange though it was. She felt lusty whenever she considered it, and hung her head in shame. Here was Mr. Grant trying to have a serious discussion with her and all she could think about was how it made her want to know more of them. It made her desires heap one upon the other.

However, she was glad she had spoken her thoughts aloud, for when she dared to glance his way she saw that passion flared in Duggan's eyes. Staring across at him, it seemed as if he was proud of her. Did he like the way she had spoken her mind? Most men did not, but then these two were like no other men she had ever met.

Duggan crossed the room to her side, drew her to her feet and stroked her upper arm through the rough wool of her sleeve. “You're a canny lass.”

The flattery was almost too much to bear, for she was not used to it.

He took her into his arms. “Would you have a man such as me, in your bed at night?”

Morag peeled her upper body away from his in order to look him more clearly in the eye. She knew that Mr. Grant looked on, and that was part of her reason for stating her feelings, so that they would both know. “You know the answer to that, Duggan Moore! You do not have to win my favors. Whatever we offer one another, we should do it without false platitude or false promises.”

Duggan grinned. “The only trouble I foresee with you is bending you to my will. You are a headstrong young woman who knows her own mind.”

Morag lifted her eyebrows at him. “Your will and mine seem to be aligned on most occasions, and that is quite pleasing in itself.”

His hard body pressing against hers pleased her tremendously, and she hoped that he was about to tumble with her again, for her cunny was hot with longing for him there.

“What would you have me do now?” she asked.

“I would have you make yourself available to me on the bed.”

She could not withhold her smile, and her core tingled expectantly.

“But first Mr. Grant has a proposition for you, and I think you should hear what he has to say before we pursue this matter further.”

Morag put her hands on his shoulders, enjoying him for as long as she might be required here. “It is you that interrupted Mr. Grant's conversation, not I.”

She swayed her hips from side to side and suppressed a smile when his hips followed hers. The solid rod of his erection pressed against her skirts, his breeches barely restraining the insistent pressure of it. Despite that, she did wish to know what Mr. Grant had to say, because the day's revelations had been astonishing and he was not yet done.

When Duggan saw her glance over at Mr. Grant, he set her aside.

“I will not hinder your affection too long,” Mr. Grant stated, as if amused at the lusty urges between the pair of them. “My proposal is this. Duggan works for another man. I would like to set him up with his own tenancy. I have the funds, and no family of my own. Duggan currently supports a mother and two young sisters, and he wishes to take a wife.”

A wife
? Morag shifted uneasily, her mood sinking as fast as a heavy stone in water.

Duggan wrapped his arm around her waist. She turned her face into his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment, her happy moment gone. This would be over soon, that was what they were about to say.

“A sound tenancy would allow him to do so, and a wife such as yourself by his side would make him happy.”

Morag's head lifted, and she gaped at Mr. Grant.

“In point of fact,” he added, with what appeared to be relish, “it would make us both happy.”

“A wife,” she stammered, “such as
meself
?”

“Aye,” Duggan whispered. “I am far from perfect, but if you are willing I promise you hard work, a good family and friends…and many a fine tumble.”

Morag was so startled she stared up at him in wonder. She thought it was another favor he was after, not something so immense.

“If you are agreeable,” he added, “and accept my proposal. Then James could visit us as a friend.”

He had made a proposal. They both had. Morag was astonished. Could she accept it, under the circumstances? As she thought on the question she realized it seemed most natural, for Duggan and Mr. Grant had already been lovers when she was invited into the situation. If she was his wife, and Mr. Grant's affections made Duggan happy, it was not so hard to imagine them continuing as they already were. She had enjoyed Mr. Grant's gaze upon them while they were engaged in intimate physical congress. In fact, her arousal grew as she thought upon it.

“Come, Morag,” Duggan whispered in a low, hoarse voice, his body taut with desire alongside hers, “you know I want you.”

Morag stared up to him. “And I want you.”

He broke into a smile, and without a moment's pause he lifted her into his arms and carried her across the room. He kissed her heartily before he threw her on her back on the bed. With a hungry gaze, Morag stared at his manly form, starkly outlined as it was with the light from the window behind him. He was so virile, so powerful. Could it be true? Did he really want her as his wife?

“Forgive my haste, but I must have you right now for you have made me a happy man.”

“There is nothing to forgive.” She chuckled, dizzy with joy as the true nature of her situation dawned on her. “For I want this as much as you do.”

She picked up her skirts and revealed her puss to his gaze, for it was damp and ready for him. Her legs fell apart readily as she invited him in. He was on her in a flash, stripping off his shirt and casting it aside.

When his fingers parted her folds and the crown of his manhood pressed against her opening, she moaned and clutched at him, her knees rising about his hips.

“You're a lusty lass,” he whispered to her, and his eyes glinted. “Tell me, have you ever known three in bed?”

“Oh.” Morag could barely muster her thoughts, because his rod was pushing against her opening, stretching it. He was mightily aroused, for it felt even larger than it had been on their previous encounters. As she tried to order her thoughts and give an appropriate response, he pressed her further.

“You have, you lusty wench.” He gave her another taste of his length before easing it back out, forcing her to answer before giving her more.

“I have known three in a room. One whose eyes were upon me, just as Mr. Grant's were on our previous encounters.”

Duggan gave her another taste of his girth, pushing deeper this time. “But you have not known the delights of three in a bed?”

Morag felt distinctly taunted. She punched him on the shoulder. “I will say no more, until you fill me.”

“You are a demanding sort.” He gave her another measure, torturing her.

She gasped for air then responded as best she could. “I think that is what you like about me.”

On that point she was sure, and she flashed her eyes at him.

“You are like me.” He announced that while he pushed into her very center, making her cry out in sheer bliss.

“Aye, and needy of this.” She flashed her eyes at him.

Duggan grinned. Thrusting in and out of her slick channel, he tossed his hair back and looked over his shoulder at Mr. Grant. “Join us, if you will.”

Morag struggled to catch her breath, snatching a stolen glance at their sponsor as he walked over, her arousal building along with her curiosity. Duggan seemed to recognize both, because he thrust into her over and over, keeping her pleasured.

Mr. Grant bent and kissed her lips. It was a tentative yet sensuous gesture, and she found his touch stimulating.

“You are a splendid woman,” he said, “and I take great pleasure in seeing you with Duggan.”

Pride made her chest swell.

He ran his hands over the outline of her breasts through her clothing before undoing his breeches. His cock sprang out, long and hard and pointing skyward. Morag wondered if he would stroke it again as he had previously. On a wild notion she put out her hand. A moment later she found her palm filled with his hot prick and she pumped vigorously.

Dizzy with rapture, she moaned loudly. Each thrust they offered her pleasured her immensely. Then Mr. Grant reached a hand for Duggan's back, stroking it, admiration in his eyes.

“There will be many days and nights where we can enjoy each other this way,” he whispered, as if to himself.

Duggan barely paused in his endeavors, but managed to respond. “Aye, with Morag to anchor me.”

Mr. Grant moved to the bed and climbed upon it. Between Duggan's thrusts, she could see that Mr. Grant continued to stroke his back, his hands moving down to where Duggan's hips moved rhythmically as he drove his length into her. The situation aroused her even more, and she arched her hips and moaned aloud. Duggan had invited Mr. Grant to join them, and it seemed he could, for he was close at Duggan's back and she saw him take his hand to his mouth and then lower it. With great curiosity, she wondered what he was doing. Just as she wondered that, Duggan arched like a bow against her and moaned loudly. His manhood swelled yet again and she could scarcely breathe, for the girth of it had stretched her to capacity and more.

Duggan panted loudly then thrust into her again, his actions wilder still.

Morag was filled to the hilt. Whatever it was Mr. Grant was doing back there, it made Duggan respond, and it made her pleasure double. Morag could only wonder and be grateful, for it was the best tumble she had ever known. “Oh, oh, it is good!”

“Yes!” Duggan panted loudly and then ground against her, his hips moving in more shallow thrusts as Mr. Grant closed against his back. His manhood was arched inside her, curving and rubbing against her most sensitive places.

The weight of the two pressed against the seat of her pleasure and triggered her release, her cunny tightening on Duggan's length.