Shared by the Highlanders (25 page)

BOOK: Shared by the Highlanders
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I grab a handful of the duvet under me and twist it in my fist, my desperation mounting. Will seems to know, because he takes my left hand and laces his fingers with mine, He says nothing, but as he withdraws his talented digits from my cunt I know he’s about to deliver what I crave.

Both my beautiful men, inside me, at the same time.

Will releases my hand, and places his palms behind my knees again. He lifts and spreads my legs, opening my pussy to him. My body jerks as the head of his cock nudges my entrance, then surges forward to fill me. I arch my back, opening my mouth on a soundless scream of utter delight. Robbie’s cock slips a fraction deeper, right into my throat. I revel in it, in their possession, and in my absolute surrender.

My entire body is clenching, convulsing as my orgasm builds. It’s fast, and will be powerful. Brutal. But beautiful too, exquisite. My senses are shattering, but I retain enough self-awareness to realise that Robbie is close to his climax, and in a moment of sheer abandon I wonder whether I can manage to swallow his semen, and come myself at the same time, all without choking.

The answer is yes. Robbie gives one last, deep thrust and a hot ribbon of viscous semen fills my throat. I swallow instinctively, clearing my airway at the same time as Will rams his dick into me hard and fast to catapult me into my own release. I’m spasming, my body bucking as he continues to thrust, each stroke angled with unerring accuracy to maintain the pressure on my G-spot. My orgasm pulses through me, waves of pleasure shooting right out to my fingers and toes. The blackness behind my blindfold erupts in a kaleidoscope of flashing lights, a dancing, erotic pyrotechnic display. Pure sensation. A perfect storm.

As the climax recedes I calm and my body relaxes. Robbie’s cock is softening between my jaws, but I retain sufficient presence of mind to lick it clean before he withdraws from me. Robbie kneels behind my head and caresses my neck as Will continues to fuck me, seeking his own release.

Moments later he has it, tensing for a moment and uttering something obscene, then ramming his cock into my sopping pussy one last time. He holds still, his cock twitching violently, and heat washes across my inner walls as he shoots his load into me.

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

“I need a shower.” I murmur the words to whichever of my men might be listening.

“I beg your pardon?” Robbie apparently. He sounds sleepy.

“A shower. I haven’t felt clean since we left Glen Blair, and that was four hundred and odd years ago.”

“I heard what you said. What did you mean?”

“I’ll show you. Follow me if you want.” I wriggle from between them and scoot down to the bottom of the bed. I get to my feet, and glance back to see Robbie watching me through one eye, the other hidden behind his arm which is flung across his face. Will is lying face down on the bed, his bare back glistening with sweat. He still has his wool breeches on. Robbie too is more or less fully clothed, just the front of his leather trousers still open though his cock is safely tucked away again. This seems a shame to me, and I hope he will take up my offer to shower together. Or Will. Both would be better still, but I fear I’d need a bigger bathroom for that.

Heedless of my nudity, I pad from the room and down the hall to my bathroom. My shower is an over-the-bath setup. I lean over the tub to set it to the temperature I like, then turn to see Robbie lounging in the doorway behind me. He eyes the spurting water with some suspicion.

“You have a waterfall indoors, eh, wee Charlie?”

“Not a waterfall, a shower. You stand under it to get washed. It’s nice.”

“I’ve washed under waterfalls before, and I wouldn’t describe the experience in quite those terms, lassie.”

“Believe me. This is warm, and, well, it
is
nice.”

“So not only do you have a waterfall inside this dwelling of yours, but it spews out warm water too?”

I nod. “I’ll explain as much as I can. Plumbing’s not my strong point, really. I’ll show you the rest of my flat soon, show you how things work.”

“Aye, lass, I reckon you’ll have to. Warm water, you say?”

I grin at him as I stride over the bath side and turn to face him, the cascade of heat streaming over my head and down my back. “Get undressed and get in here, coward.”

“Have we not spanked you enough yet, wee Charlie? You still have an uncommon insolence about you.” Despite his words, he is stripping off his clothes and in seconds is naked. I shift to one side and hold out my hand. He takes it and steps over the side of the bath to join me in the steaming spray.

“Shit! It
is
hot. God’s blood…”

“Like it?” I reach for my shower gel and squirt a blob into my hand.

He shakes his head, though not I suspect in denial. Droplets of water fly everywhere. I laugh out loud and smear the shower gel between my two palms before spreading the soap across his lightly furred chest. Despite our intimacies I have had few opportunities to really touch or explore either of my men and I love the feel of his bunched pecs under my hands. Robbie regards me quizzically but allows me to work the gel into a lather. I swivel my finger to tell him to turn around, which he does without comment. I squirt some more soap into my hands and work it into his back.

“This looks like fun. Do we form an orderly queue?”

I turn at Will’s amused drawl. He is leaning in the open doorway watching us through the steam.

“Strip off and join us,” I reply.

“Aye, but I need a piss first. Where’s the privy?”

“Right there.” I point to my toilet. “See that porcelain stool thing? Just lift the lid.”

Will does as I suggest, then turns to gape at me. “You actually piss in your house? Inside? Next to where you sleep?”

“We do. Indoor plumbing, it’s all the rage these days. If you press that silver button on the top it flushes it all away. Very clean.”

“Are you absolutely certain about this, wee Charlie?” Will is clearly not convinced.

“Try it. I promise, it’s much better than your way. It’s considered antisocial to go outside and pee against a wall. You’ll get into all sorts of bother.”

Will emits a sound I can only describe as ‘harrumph’ and proceeds to empty his bladder in my toilet. Some things I have no desire to watch so I turn back to Robbie and kneel behind him to apply the shower gel to his legs.

“There, you’re done. Just rinse it all off. Do you want me to wash your hair too?” I’d love to see his auburn locks all freshly shampooed.

“My cock’s just as dirty as the rest of me, girl.”

I chew on my lower lip. If he insists, then course I’ll oblige. Will too. But I have other matters I want to move on to. “We need to talk. Really, we do. We can’t just, well…”

“The lass is right. We need to plan how we’re going to settle in to this time and we won’t do that by fucking her senseless every chance we get, however tempting she may look, kneeling before you like that. Let her wash your hair for you, and attend to your own dick.”

Robbie narrows his eyes, but his lips curl in a wry smile. “Aye, I suppose you’re already well enough fucked. For now. Can I have some of that stuff?”

I hand him the shower gel and show him how to get some out by pressing the top. Then I start on his hair.

Despite the need to address our future, we all seem content to remain in the moment a little longer. I soap and shampoo Robbie, lavishing the same loving care on his body that they both reserve for me. It’s my chance to explore too, taking note of the various scars marring their skin. Not that either of them is less than perfect; they are utterly beautiful to me.

Will strips off and lounges against the edge of the shower. I see he has a long scar down his left leg, which he tells me he gained when he failed to shift fast enough in a border skirmish close to Berwick. Robbie sports a similar battle scar, though his is across the back of his right shoulder, the legacy of a well-aimed strike with a broadsword when he was just fifteen years old. I ask him how old he is now, the four hundred plus years notwithstanding. He tells me that he is nearly thirty, and Will is a year younger. He seems amused to learn I am already twenty-four, and not married.

“Not to worry, sweetheart, we’ll not let you die an old maid.”

I laugh out loud. “Are you still on about marrying me then?”

“Aye, should you wish it. I trust you’ll find the matter less hilarious should we ever find ourselves before the altar.”

“If the lass is to marry either of us, it’ll be me. Though I’ll gladly share her with you.” Will nudges Robbie out of the hot spray to take his place there. I sink to my knees to address the matter of washing his muscular thighs, and wonder if I am relieved or disappointed that the subject of marriage has been dropped.

I have no shaving gear to offer them, but I daresay Henry will be able to help us out until I can get to the supermarket. As I wrap a towel around myself and reach into my airing cupboard to find several more for Rob and Will, I reflect that we’ll need to enlist my neighbour’s help in the matter of suitable men’s clothing too, not that any of his gear would fit. But he’s good at shopping, he’ll know what to buy.

Thirty minutes later we’re back in my bedroom, all three of us draped in what amounts to my entire stock of towels. Now, all of us fresh and fragrant, and sated enough to think straight for a while at least, it’s time to address some of our other pressing issues. I crouch to pull my laptop out from under my bed, then place it on the duvet and fire it up as two bemused Scotsmen watch me.

“Lass…?”

I smile at Will over my shoulder. “Later. You’ll like this machine, I promise you. It doesn’t fly. You can have a play with it soon enough. First, I want to look something up.”

I Google antique coins of sixteenth-century Scotland, then select the Wikipedia site. It’s as good a place to start as any.

“You
are
both serious about staying here, right?” I turn to face them. “No second thoughts?”

Both men nod, their expressions intent.

“Aye. As we said, we discussed it before we returned to Helvellyn with you. At some length. Not that we have much choice in the matter probably.” Robbie folds his arms across his chest. “It’s not likely we’d manage to find our way back, even if we wanted to. Which we don’t.”

“Right. So if you’re staying and you want to make a life here, the first thing we need to do is establish a twenty-first century identity for each of you. You need to exist, in official records. Without that you can’t get a driving licence, a passport, a job. I doubt we’ll get far explaining to the authorities that you’re actually Scottish noblemen from the court of Mary, queen of Scots, transported here across four centuries as a result of some weird time slip event. So failing that, we’ll have to buy you some false papers and those will cost money. A lot of money.”

“False papers, lass?” Will looks dubious.

“We have no choice,” I affirm. “I have no idea where to buy things like that, but Henry will. He moves in some right dodgy circles.”

“Henry? That pretty wee thing we met outside?”

“Yes. And he’s not pretty. Well, he might be, but he’s also my neighbour and one of my closest friends so I hope you’ll be nice to him.”

Robbie gives a disparaging snort. “Not as nice as he’d like us to be, I’ll wager.”

“Yes, well, maybe so. But you’ll get used to him, and he’s a lovely person, really he is. Apart from that, we need him.”

Will glowers at Robbie to be quiet. “So, are we to understand from that last bit of gobbledegook that came out of your mouth that this Henry is in a position to obtain the false papers you think we require?”

“Yes. The owner of the restaurant where he works knows people who I’d prefer not to associate with. But if we need a fake passport and a National Insurance number, he’s the sort of guy could get them for us. But we’d need to pay him, and that sort of thing doesn’t come cheap.”

“I imagine not. So…?”

“I have a good job and some savings. This flat is small but we can manage here, I think, for the time being at least, and I earn enough to keep us all until you can get work.”

“Lass, that’s very kind but we don’t intend to presume on your generosity. We have funds, both of us.” Robbie is the one who speaks, but Will is clearly of the same mind, nodding emphatically at the same time as he peers at the screen of my laptop.

“Yes, I know you do. Your bags of coins. Those are what I had in mind.”

“Will a few silver pennies be sufficient to pay for the papers we need?”

“I’m not sure. But I’m not suggesting we spend them. I think we should sell them.”

“I’m not sure we’re following you, wee Charlie.”

“Those coins are genuine, and they are from sixteenth-century Scotland. There are collectors in this century who’d pay good money for them, I’m certain of it. We just need to work out what you’ve got with you, and what they might be worth.”

I skim down the narrative describing the history of Scottish coinage until I come to the fifteen hundreds. A picture of a rather battered silver coin displaying a cross scrolls across the screen.

“That’s a silver testoon. I have at least fifty of those in my purse.” Will turns away from the screen to scrabble about among the clothes he discarded earlier and which are now scattered across the floor of my bedroom. He produces the small leather pouch containing his money and tosses it onto the bed beside me. “Robbie, what do you have?”

Robbie is already following Will’s lead in locating his money purse, and soon a second bag of jangling coins lies beside the first.

“May I?” I point to the two bags.

“Aye, lass. Go ahead.”

I loosen the strings securing Will’s pouch first and tip the contents out. A pile of bright, shiny silver coins, identical to the ones on my screen, scatter across my duvet. Well, they would be identical, except that the ones pictured on the Wikipedia site are old, battered, their design smooth and worn away in places. The ones on my bed are perfect, in mint condition. They could have been made yesterday.

“Ach, I always suspected you were a pauper, Sinclair.” Robbie reaches for his own purse and unties the top. He upends it to shower a pile of brilliant gold pieces beside the silver. Even without the benefit of any knowledge of antiques I know I’m looking at a fortune.

BOOK: Shared by the Highlanders
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