His Scottish Pet: Dom of the Ages (11 page)

He broke his suction on her sex and commanded quietly, “Suck harder, pet.”

Instantly the pressure on his shaft increased and he growled in satisfaction. Ryce applied the same amount of suction and soon had her squirming from the sexual torment. He slowly eased his thumb into her wet tunnel and felt her pelvis buck against him in response. Suddenly the tempo of her oral stimulation increased tenfold and he almost exploded in her mouth.

“Slow down, pet,” he barked, trying to rein in the orgasm threatening.

Chrisselle immediately stopped the motion, but did not release the pressure. His cock pulsated inside her mouth as he concentrated on the raging storm outside to halt the impending climax.

Once he had regained control, he laid his head back and gazed at her womanhood. Her outer lips were swollen, the opening dripping with her lust and her pink puckered hole begging for his attention. It was an area he had not explored yet, and their wedding night seemed a perfect time to give her a taste of the forbidden fruit. But only a taste…

“Chrisselle, I want you to make love to your Master.”

She released his cock and turned her head. “How, my husband?”

“Lie on me, I will guide my shaft into you.”

She shuddered in anticipation and repositioned herself, laying her breasts against his chest. He took his shaft in one hand and held onto her waist with the other as he pressed into her moist harbor. Her passionate cry caught in her throat when he gripped her hips and thrust himself deeper.

Ryce growled lustfully as he lifted her up and then let her tight warmth settle back down onto his cock. “Look, pet. I want you to see the beauty of your sex taking my manhood.”

She looked down and whimpered as her eager sex took his thick shaft down to the base. Chrisselle was captivated by the sensual vision of it.

While she watched, he ran his middle finger around the rim of her opening, covering his hand in her juices. Then he grabbed her ass and thrust his cock as deep as it would go. “Kiss me, wife.”

She smiled as her lips came down on his, their tongues beginning their sexual dance. While in that intimate embrace, he felt the edges of her puckered hole.

Chrisselle tensed, but did not move. He slowly teased her arsehole. Just as he was going to penetrate her with his finger, a loud crack of thunder boomed above their heads. She cried out in surprise and fear, but it only caused to excite him further. He murmured into her ear, “Let me in, pet,” as he pressed the taut opening, his finger slipping inside her untouched hole.

She was panting now, but her tongue thrust deeper into his mouth letting Ryce know her state of arousal. He pushed his finger in further, feeling the resistance of her tight muscles but gently forcing her body’s compliance. “Good girl.”

Ryce began pumping his cock inside her depths as he explored her virginal hole with his finger. The deeper he pushed the more she whimpered, the more her juices flowed. It was intoxicating and took him over the edge.

With his middle finger lodged deep in her ass, his cock exploded with an abundance of his seed. Thrust after powerful thrust, he filled her with himself while thunder crashed around them. They both lay panting from the intensity of the experience.

Ryce promised himself it would be the last time he would come inside her. He could ill afford the complications or the emotional toll of Chrisselle becoming pregnant. However, he convinced himself that this had been worth the risk. He hadn’t felt such an intensive, awe-inspiring orgasm since…
her
.

He shook the memory of Jovita from his mind, kissing his wife’s sweaty skin instead. “You are extraordinary.”

She wrapped her arms around him, purring in contentment. “Everything you do feels good, Ryce. Everything.”

Chrisselle fell asleep to the sounds of the violent storm raging outside, sheltered in his arms. For Ryce there was a sense of overwhelming peace—and hope.

****

But memories of Jovita would come back to haunt him a few days later. He had just finished feeding Eventide and was walking back to the cottage for a quick breakfast when he saw her bent over, retching in the bushes.

A cold chill coursed through his bones.
Jovita.

She had been the same way, showing signs of the pregnancy early on. Struggling to keep food down as their child grew in her belly. It had been a difficult pregnancy. It was only towards the end that Jovita had recovered and started to glow with motherhood. He’d thought they had made it through the worst of it then, having no idea what fate had in store.

A streak of crimson flashed through his mind and he howled in rage. He had done this!

Chrisselle stood up and looked at him in fear. He could not face her or this unwanted reality. Ryce went back to the barn, not even bothering to saddle Eventide. He fastened the reins, jumped on his back and galloped away from her and his mistake.

Ryce eventually ended up at Avril’s and it was she who helped Ryce think beyond his past. “I hae always wanted a wee bairn, Master Leon! Wull ye let me visit often once the babe is born?”

Her overwhelming enthusiasm made his fears seem unfounded. Chrisselle’s pregnancy would not end in tragedy like Jovita’s. The situations were nothing alike. This community had accepted them both into the fold. Surely these people would not be so quick to turn if they uncovered his secret. Chrisselle would not be punished, as Jovita had been, for carrying the child of a devil.

“Yes, Avril. I am sure Chrisselle would appreciate your company. In fact, she’s mentioned several times that she would enjoy a visit from you.”

“It wull be ma pleasure, Master Leon.” Avril added shyly, “Ah wull make another dress for her to replace the ane that wus lost.” Ryce had not explained why Chrisselle was missing a dress; the fewer people who knew of his accident the better.

“May I request that you make another green one? It brings out the color of her eyes.”

Avril blushed and turned away. “Ma pleasure, Master Leon,” she said quietly.

Ryce wondered if she was struggling with her own jealousy. If she was, he gave Avril credit for keeping it in check. He handed over several coins.

She refused to take them. “Oh nah, tae much.”

He laughed gently. “It is payment for a dress for Chrisselle and one for yourself. I would like to see you in something new.”

The flush on Avril’s face was lovely to see. “Ah cannae…” she sputtered.

Ryce put his fingers to her lips. “It is my desire.”

Tears came to her eyes. He brushed her scarred cheek lightly. “Treat yourself well, Avril. I command it.”

She smiled. “Aye, Ah wull, Master Leon.”

“And come visit us soon.”

He left with a much lighter spirit and was pleased to see Chrisselle looking better when he returned. She met him in the barn and asked hesitantly, “Master?”

Ryce held out his arms and she raced to them. “It is fine, pet. Ghosts from my past… they do not concern you.”

She pressed her head against his chest. “I thought I had displeased my husband.”

He lifted her chin. “No. I find you fully pleasing.” He kissed her roughly, releasing his longing and fear in the connection. Afterwards, he felt cleansed of his misgivings. “I love you, pet.”

She squeezed him tight. “I love you, Master.”

He chose to be upfront with her. “I visited Avril today because I believe you to be pregnant.”

Chrisselle gasped and asked in a breathless whisper, “Truly?”

“Yes, my wife. Avril will come by in a few days to check on you.”

She rubbed her stomach reverently. “A babe so soon?”

Ryce threw out the momentary doubt that it was his. “I am a virile man, pet. It is the reason I normally spill my seed.”

Chrisselle blushed and giggled. “I did feel its power, Master.”

“I do have a powerful cock,” he stated smugly, winking at her. But then he became serious. “Chrisselle, you must take it easy until the sickness passes. I want nothing to happen to you or the child.”

She beamed at him. “
Our
child.”

Wicked, Wicked Fate

Fate was not kind.

Near the end of Chrisselle’s pregnancy, Ryce woke with a start to urgent pounding on the door. So urgent, in fact, that he jumped out of bed and stumbled in the darkness to open it while still in the nude. Avril stood in his doorway, panting for breath. She stared at him, seemingly unaware of his lack of dress as she gasped out her message.

“Men… comin’… fur ye!”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. Chrisselle came to him and handed Ryce his kilt. He quickly dressed, asking Avril questions in the process. “Who is coming? What do you mean they are coming for me?”

“Band o’ rebels… comin’ for the Sassenach.”

He grabbed her shoulders. “Who is coming for the Saxon?”

“The Gregor clan. Comin’ tae kull the Baron of Rannoch, but gaun tae get rid o’ his Sassenach pet first.”

“How far?”

“Verra close!”

“Quick, take Chrisselle with you.” He left the cottage, commanding that they follow. Ryce headed straight for the barn. He unlocked the chest and rifled through it, taking only a handful of coins from a heavy leather bag before handing it to Chrisselle. “Take this, but hide it when you get to Avril’s. No one must know you have it or your life will be forfeit.” He went to Eventide next and threw the saddle on him as he spoke to Avril. “You will take my horse. He is much faster, but be careful with Chrisselle. She is too far along to be traveling.”

“No, Ryce! I will not leave your side,” Chrisselle cried, clutching his arm.

He growled, “You will not disobey me in this.” When she would not let go, he stopped what he was doing and shook her roughly. “If ever there was a time to obey me this is it!”

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she answered softly. “Yes, Master.”

Avril interrupted their exchange. “Ah wull leave ma horse, Bonnie, fur ye.”

“Fine. I will join you only when I can assure you will not be harmed.”

Chrisselle whimpered, “Don’t leave me behind!”

“I
will
come back for you.” He spoke to her motherly instincts, forcing her departure. “At this moment your duty is to protect our child.”

She caressed her large stomach subconsciously. “I will, Ryce. I will protect our baby with my life.”

He flinched. She could not know how her words cut him. “Leave now! Do not spare Eventide. Get to Avril’s as fast as you can.” He helped his extremely pregnant woman onto the horse with a feeling of foreboding.

Avril climbed up behind her. “Master Leon, Ah wull no fail ye or Mistress Leon.”

He stroked her scarred cheek appreciatively. “I put my complete trust in you.”

Chrisselle leaned over awkwardly to kiss him. “Come back to me, husband.”

“Do not fret. I am capable of defending myself, pet.” He backed away abruptly and shouted, “Now run!”

Eventide took off in a burst of speed. He watched them disappear into the trees and tried to calm his racing heart. It was happening all over again. Fate was cruel to replay his nightmare, but this time he refused to lose.

Ryce went back to the cottage and dressed for battle. Before he left the house, he picked up Chrisselle’s old leather collar and held it to his lips.
This will not be our end.

He headed back to the barn and placed it in the chest along with his other mementoes. He slammed the lid down and locked it before carrying it into the woods. Ryce found a hiding place between two boulders and set it there for later retrieval.

Next, he brought Bonnie into the barn and secured her in Eventide’s stall. Then he reentered the cottage and took down his claymore from the mantel. He made his stand in front of his home as the sun rays gently made their way over the landscape, warming the ground.

Ryce swung his sword in the air, readying his muscles for battle. He would put up a fight the likes of which they had never seen. He was a man of exceptional experience and skill. A man who was determined to defend what he had without the fear of death. Was there anything more dangerous in the world than he?

He heard the pounding of hooves as the horses crashed through the trees and he tensed, preparing himself for the hell about to ensue.
Death to all who would threaten me!
was his internal battle cry as the first of the rebels broke through the line of trees.

Soon fifty fully armed warriors surrounded him. This was not a simple uprising, this was a full-fledged rebellion. Ryce’s stomach twisted. There would be no ‘surviving’ this.

“Sassenach filth!” a large burly Highlander spat. “Kiss the ground for it will be your bed tonight.” Shouts and cheers echoed his statement.

“I come from England, but I have no quarrel with you,” Ryce shouted above the din.

“All Sassenachs must die!” The leader looked to his comrades. “And all Sassenach sympathizers!”

Ryce tried to reason with the angry horde. “I detest the Baron as much as you. Hell, I will join you if it is your plan to overthrow the foul beast.”

The Scotsman ignored him and roared, “First we kill his pet. Then we kill the master himself!”

For a moment Ryce believed they were talking about Chrisselle, until one of the men answered, “Tonight the Baron wull eat the same dirt as his Sassenach pet!”

Still determined to defuse the situation, Ryce encouraged them. “It is not necessary to shed blood today.”

“Aye, but it is!” the leader shouted. “The de’il must be sent a bloody message.”

The warriors descended on him as a unit. Ryce ducked and swerved, slicing at the horses’ forelegs, causing several of them to stumble and fall, throwing the riders to the ground. He quickly disposed of two, but there were far too many men and they crushed around him, making his sword virtually useless. He felt the stab of metal into bone. Then his head exploded in pain as steel rebounded off his skull.

Ryce stumbled, but avoided another strike aimed at his head. He squeezed between the riders, trying to make room to make his stand. He looked up and found the broad-shouldered Scot leader before him. In a twisting motion, Ryce avoided the thrust of his attack and slashed open the man’s thigh. The leader let out a cry of rage. One of his minions ran a sword through Ryce’s stomach from behind.

Ryce fell to his knees, gasping for breath, the blood gushing from his head wound blinding him. The horses milled about as the warriors awaited their orders. The large Scot got off his horse and limped over to Ryce. “I shall gut the worthless pig.”

Ryce’s hands shook as he held his sword up in defense.

As two men advanced on him, Ryce growled in warning, ready to kill at least one before they disabled him. However, a handful of men came up from behind and easily wrestled the sword from his hands, forcing him to the ground. They each took an arm or leg and held him down.

Ryce took solace in the fact their leader was bleeding profusely and would soon be dead. The man knew it as well, and was determined to have his revenge before he drew his last breath. One of the men threw him a wicked knife made especially for butchering large animals. Ryce struggled out of instinct, but there was no escaping his fate.

He closed his eyes. This was how Jovita had met her end. It was grotesquely fitting.

“Sassenach swine. Feel my wrath!” The blade sank into his groin and a cold chill settled on him as the knife tugged and pulled its way through his stomach all the way to his sternum. His body shook uncontrollably and his breath came in violent gasps as the taste of blood filled his mouth.

Tears ran down his cheeks, not for his own pain but for the horror and pain he knew Jovita had suffered in her final moments. Blood gurgled from deep in his throat when he whispered, “I am sorry, love…”

“What was that, Sassenach filth?” the Scot shouted.

Ryce shook his head as the lights began to dim. He heard the agonized cries of Avril’s horse as it was being slaughtered and then the smell of smoke filled the air. At least Chrisselle was safe. At least in that, he had not failed.

****

Ryce heard the voices of several men. He grasped for his sword, but his hand barely moved.

“He’s still alive… somehow. I’ll take him because you insist, but he will not live out the night.”

Avril’s sobs resonated in Ryce’s head, but he could not open his eyes. “We wull no leave him!” she cried.

There was a horrifying jolt of pain when he was lifted and darkness took hold of him again. He woke next to the smell of fire. He struggled to move, afraid of the flames consuming him.

“Stay still,” his pet’s soothing voice purred. “You are hurt, but you are safe.”

He relaxed and fell back into the darkness willingly, needing to escape from the searing pain.

When he regained consciousness, again he heard Avril and Chrisselle talking softly. “Master Leon telt ye to protect the bairn. Ye must rest.”

“I cannot leave him, Avril. Master will awaken. I know he will.”

Avril’s voice became somber. “He cannae last the night.”

“You don’t know Master. He is stronger than you think. He will survive this!”

“Nae.” Avril’s tone was low and angry now. “Chrisselle, yer duty is tae care fur the babe. Ah wull wake ye if he stirs. Dinnae
dishonor Master Leon’s last wish by hurting the bairn. He needs tae die at peace. Tae ken ye and the babe ar healthy. Ye owe him that.”

“Aye,” Chrisselle said quietly. “But…”

“No!” Avril snapped. “If Master Leon wakes, tell him ye ar strong enough tae let him gae.”

Ryce fell into fitful slumber, his body too damaged to remain aware. Later he woke to his own groaning. “I’m here, Ryce,” Chrisselle whispered lovingly. “I will not leave you.”

He forced his eyes open and croaked, “It is good to see you, pet.”

She whimpered and tears formed in her eyes. Avril came into his line of vision. “Master Leon, Chrisselle is safe, the babe is well and the coins hidden. You hae nothin’ tae worry about. Yer family wull live haur wi’ me. We wull all be fine.”

Ryce turned his head slowly to her and attempted a smile, but only half his face responded. “My Avril.” He held up his hand and she grasped it. “I am well pleased.”

Avril’s lip trembled, but she swallowed hard and kissed his hand dutifully. “It is ma pleasure, Master Leon.”

“Chrisselle,” he rasped.

Avril moved away and Chrisselle rejoined him. “Avril will look out for you and the child. Share the coins with her. There is plenty…” He coughed up a large amount of blood and Chrisselle suddenly looked terrified. She needed his reassurance.

“Remember you are my wife, strong and beautiful. You will raise our child to be the same. Trust your instincts and do not let others sway you.
You
are her mother.”

“Master…”

He suffered a terrible coughing fit that left him unable to speak and the darkness descended. Ryce fought against it, but did not awaken until later.

He saw Avril asleep in a chair by the fireplace. The instant he turned his head, he found Chrisselle looking down on him.

She took his hand and smiled. “You’re back.”

“Chrisselle, our babe needs you to rest.”

“You need me.”

He closed his eyes. If it had just been Avril and Chrisselle, he might have chanced remaining with them and recovering, trusting they would keep his secret. However, MacPherson had seen the extent of his injuries. The whole community must know of the attack by now. Anything less than his death would be met with fear and distrust. He had experienced it before, it would not happen again. There was only one option with Chrisselle unable to travel; he must die so that she and their baby could live.