A Highland Christmas [Prometheus in Chains 12] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Clair de Lune

  “I need you inside me now,” she said again more urgently. “Please, Master, fuck me now.”

  He set her on her feet and led her to the back of the sofa. Placing her hands on the back, he bent her over.

  “Hold on tight, and if at any time you feel pain in your hip, tell me at once.”

  “I am perfectly fine, Master. Just fuck me hard and fast.”

  He didn’t of course. He fucked her gently but thoroughly, and he held her firmly but so tenderly. She squirmed and tried to get him to speed up, but although he fucked her deep and hard he was careful. He thrust his cock into her pussy until he could feel his balls slap against her delectable bottom with each stroke. He angled his dick so that he stroked over her G-spot, massaging it and making her ever more vocal in her appreciation of his efforts. He found he liked this slower and less forceful loving because it lasted longer. Nevertheless he, too, couldn’t wait until she was fully recovered and they could fuck in the way they both preferred. She ground her bottom into him and squeezed his cock with the muscles of her pussy in the way she had. He felt the electric tingles in the base of his spine. He stilled, and then his hot cum spurted out to fill her cunt, and his legs trembled in the aftermath. He leaned over her to grasp the back of the sofa to keep on his feet as his heart hammered. After a few moments he managed to stand. He helped her to stand up, and she turned and nestled into his arms. He held her close to his fast beating heart, inhaling her perfume and the smell of sex and he sighed in contentment.

  “My Jane, my treasure, my little darling. Tha gaol agam ort.”

  He told her he loved her in the Gaelic words that meant so much to them both. She had learned those words for her collaring ceremony and they were doubly special to him because of that.

  * * * *

  Jane just wished he’d fuck her like he used to. Now he treated her as if she were made of porcelain, and really her hip had healed well. She longed for less gentle love-making. They hadn’t been in the playroom for weeks, and as for spanking her, well, he had swatted her a few times when she’d provoked him. She felt so low all the time. She did try to pull herself out of it, but it wasn’t working. For goodness sake, get a grip of yourself. Just look at him. He is such a striking man. You are so very lucky. Just look at those deep-blue eyes with his long, curling lashes. His voice alone is enough to make you wet, like dark chocolate with a hint of spice. There could be steel in that voice, but lately Master was so very considerate of her. But oh she did wish he’d just fuck her brains out like he used to.

  Chapter Three

  Angus was correct. The rest of the year passed fairly quietly. Club celebrations for Halloween, when Jane was asked to help with the decorations and meal menus, helped to distract her. Angus was very grateful to all the members who did their best to cheer her up. She’d been a tower of strength in the club and helped to create and maintain the family feeling. She’d always been available to listen to problems and help with advice or just be a sympathetic listener. Now, all those she’d helped and advised in the past rallied round to help her. Angus was proud of her and what she’d created. Prometheus in Chains owed much of what it was to her.

  The journey north was uneventful. Some snow had fallen but luckily not so much as in previous years. The sun came out and lit up the mountains. The views were breathtaking. They had set out early after a meagre breakfast, so he’d planned to halt on the way. Carlisle was a convenient place to stop for breakfast, and he made sure Jane ate more than she usually did. Some of the colour had come back into her cheeks, but she was still too pale for his liking, and she’d lost weight. She wasn’t skinny, but he wanted to put an end to the weight loss. She was beautiful, and he was so in love with her.

  He was going to make sure she had some nice long walks, if the weather allowed it. The exercise would be good for her in the fresh air. His main Christmas gift would keep her warm, and he’d insisted she buy some warm boots before they set off. He’d smuggled into the car all the gifts she’d bought and thought she’d left at home to be handed to her friends and family at the New Year.

  Breakfast over, they headed north. They took the M74, and in an hour they were on the outskirts of Glasgow.

  “We don’t have time to stop now, mo run, but if you like when we are on our way back, we can spend a few days in Glasgow. You can shop and see the sights.”

  “Oh, yes, Master, I’d love that. I’ve always wanted to visit the Burrell collection.” Jane’s voice held enthusiasm, and Angus smiled in contentment.

  “Then that’s what we’ll do. I have been a few times, but each time I visit I find something I’d missed. We have plenty of time on the way back.”

  This was going well. He planned to take her to lunch on the banks of Loch Lomond. Then along the A82 and the A87 to their destination. The route was scenic. She looked out of the car window.

  “Master, this is so very beautiful. I’d like to come back and spend some time by Loch Lomond,” she said a little wistfully.

  “Then you shall, mo run. It was about time we explored Scotland. There is plenty to see and do.”

  When they arrived at their destination, Angus stopped the car.

  “Well, mo run?” he asked. Jane’s voice squeaked in her excitement. He hadn’t seen her so animated for months, and he knew he’d been right. He let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

  “Oh it’s even more beautiful than I’d imagined. The snow just makes it seem like a fairy-tale castle. Are we going inside, Master? Do we have time?”

  Angus chuckled. “We are spending Christmas here, mo run.”

  His reward was a round-eyed Jane then she threw herself at him as best she could in the car and covered his face with kisses. He was delighted. This was his Jane. The sun shone on her short, highlighted hair, and it glowed like a halo around her face.

  “You approve then, my little love?”

  “Oh, I can’t wait. Can we go inside now? Look at that bridge. How many times have I dreamed of crossing it and going into the castle? Do we leave the car here? What about the cases?” Questions poured out of her mouth, and Angus beamed. This was what he had missed, her vitality and enthusiasm for life. While he didn’t fool himself into thinking she was cured, he knew they were on the right road at last. They entered the castle and rang the bell at the hotel reception. A smartly dressed woman in her forties appeared. Her flaming red hair, tamed into a neat upswept style, was held in place by combs. Her heart-shaped face held a pair of cool, green eyes. She was dressed in a fitted suit in dark-green wool with a very pale-green silk blouse. She oozed efficiency. She held out one slim hand.

  “Good afternoon. I am Flora MacDonald. Mr and Mrs Scott I presume? If you will give me the keys to your car, I will have the bags taken to your room.” Angus watched as Jane wandered off to look at the escutcheons on the walls of the hall.

  “As we discussed, the bags of wrapped gifts must be placed under the tree, and Mrs Scott must not see them yet. Are we the first to arrive?”

  “Indeed, sir, I do remember, and all will be done as you requested. So far no other guests have put in an appearance. If you’d care to follow me, I will show you to your room. Afternoon tea will be served in fifteen minutes in the small drawing room, as you requested.”

  “Jane, my dear, our room is ready and tea is in fifteen minutes, so we’d better go and wash.” Jane left her perusal of some of the tourist leaflets with reluctance, but the word “tea” brought a smile to her face.

  “Yes indeed. I’m ready for some tea. By all means, let’s go and wash.”

  The room they were shown into was a large one, with a window overlooking the loch. The bed was a huge, carved-oak four-poster, and the rest of the heavy carved furniture matched. The carpets and curtains were a rich ruby, and had it not been for wall-sconces and a plentiful supply of lamps, the room would have been dark. A log fire burned in the stone fire-place, and two large, comfortable armchairs were placed at either side of it. The room was warm, welcoming, and c
omfortable. A huge vase held a couple of dozen apricot roses, and Jane walked over to touch them.

  “How beautiful they are. You are spoiling me again,” she murmured.

  “Impossible,” he answered, and taking her hand in his, he raised it to his lips and kissed it.

  A large basket of fruit on a small table awaited their attention. The ensuite was ample and modern. The floor-to-ceiling tiles were white, and the whole place sparkled. An abundance of fluffy white towels had been placed on a shelf by the twin, green-glass wash basins.

  “I will leave you, now,” Flora MacDonald said. “The small drawing room is on the floor below just to the left of reception. Tea will be served there in ten minutes. If you require assistance to unpack your cases, please let me know as you go in for tea.”

  “It’s so very big and quiet, Master. I hope we are going to have more guests to keep us company.”

  “Oh I wouldn’t doubt that, my little darling. However, the walls are so very thick the castle could be over-run with guests and you’d never hear them. That is all to the good.” He smiled at her, and she blushed rosily. She’d not ever denied him the comfort of her body, but the initiative had always been his lately, and although she enjoyed their love-making, Angus had felt there was something missing. He’d been very gentle with her because of the operation, and he wasn’t sure that she was pain-free yet. Maybe that had been it. He liked that blush, however. It spoke of awakening desire, and it was past time he drove her to a screaming climax. This castle would be perfect as none would hear her cries of ecstasy except him.

  Ten minutes later they were seated in the drawing room at a table in one of the windows, which must overlook the loch and to the mountains beyond if they could have seen any of it. The heavy wool curtains were drawn and a huge log fire crackled in the grate. It was full dark outside. The days were very short in the winter so far north. A dimpled and smiling young maid appeared. She was neatly dressed in black with a long, starched apron edged with white lace. Her blond hair was braided and hung in a plait half-way down her back. She carried a large tray on which pride of place was given to a polished silver tea set. The Georgian design fitted well with the elegant furnishings. The silver was polished and glowed with the reflection of the fire. She deposited the tea set on the table, and behind her, a large, spare young man arrived. He was in black and white, but his bright red hair and pale complexion betrayed his ancestry. He carried a similar large tray, laden with hot scones, butter, and jam. Jane was engaged in devouring a scone slathered with butter and raspberry jam with more appetite than Angus had seen her display for a long time when sounds of arrivals were heard.

  “Jane, Angus,” a loud voice proclaimed, and Jane, surprised and startled, dropped her scone, which luckily landed on her plate. Llewellyn came into the room, a jolly presence in himself he held the hand of his eldest son Rhys, and Gloria followed leading her daughter Morwen. Both of them were smiling broadly. Master Llewellyn was a huge man. He was tall and broad, well-muscled with short black hair and deep-blue eyes set wide apart under beetling black brows. His lips were full and sensual. In spite of his fearsome reputation in Prometheus in Chains, he had a wicked sense of humour. He and Gloria lived a twenty-four-seven D/s relationship. Gloria was a pretty woman with long, dark-brown shoulder-length hair, an hour-glass figure, large, green eyes, and a generous mouth. Wearing a fashionable tunic in amber wool and slacks in a darker shade, she looked elegant and comfortable.

  “Surprise, surprise,” Llewellyn boomed. Gloria hurried over to Jane, who stood up and fell into her arms. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you.”

  No sooner had she said that than a smiling Emma came through the door. Eric held her arm and treated her as if she were made of cut glass. They both walked slowly over to Jane because Eric would not permit his wife and sub to run. Jane smiled and held out her arms. Gloria was attending to something her small daughter was saying, and Jane hugged Emma tight. Emma was Jane’s granddaughter, a stunning blonde with shoulder-length, wavy hair and large gray eyes. Eric had long, dark-brown hair tied at the back of his neck in a lace. His eyes were large and gray-green, and his face was pleasant with the hint of a smile playing about his mouth. They had always been close as a couple. Today Eric’s smile was conspicuous by its absence, and Angus wondered what was wrong. Eric towered over Emma’s five eight, and was very protective of her. Could anything be wrong with Emma? That wouldn’t sit well with his Jane.

  “I am so glad that you are here. This would have been the first Christmas I hadn’t spent with you. But you all kept this from me. Master, this is your doing,” Jane said.

  Angus looked at her, and she held out her hands to him.

  “I can’t thank you enough. It’s just what I would have wished for, but you knew that. You organised it all, and I am so very happy. Thank you, my love.”

  Angus was very happy. Jane was responding in just the way he’d hoped, and as she hadn’t had to cope with all the arrangements, she was more relaxed than usual. He wondered if she’d noticed Eric’s unusually serious mien. Maybe she hadn’t, as she’d be concentrating on Emma. Suddenly he heard her draw in a breath.

  “We left all the Christmas gifts at home,” she wailed. Angus chuckled.

  “We didn’t, did we? You brought them with us. No wonder you fastened me into my seat belt before you put the cases in the boot.

  “Yes and a hard job I had to make it all fit. You must have emptied the shops in Sheffield.” This was greeted with laughter as Jane was well-known for her lavish gifts at Christmas and birthdays. Angus knew she’d grown up with little money to spare, so he encouraged her in her extravagance. He always said he was delighted to watch her as the recipients opened their presents.

  “Where are they then? They aren’t in our rooms?”

  “There is a large, decorated tree in the drawing room, and I believe they are all waiting under it,” Angus said as he winked at her then cuddled her close as she nestled into his arms.

  “Thank you, Master,” she whispered. “What have I done to deserve you?”

  “That’s my line, mo run,” Angus replied and stopped her mouth with tender nibbles and kisses.

  A loud wailing came from the hall and familiar voices talking over the top of it. Jane looked at Angus in inquiry.

  “Yes, my little darling, it is who you think it is.” Jane’s delighted crow was all he could have wished. Alexander and Ruari strode into the hall, kilts swinging, carbon copies of each other and younger versions of Master Angus. Each one carried a squalling infant, and Fiona hurried after them. Angus was shocked to see her. She’d lost weight, and her skin was almost translucent. He heard Jane’s intake of breath as she noticed Fiona’s state of health. He hadn’t planned this, but in the circumstances it would be good for Jane to forget her own worries and focus on Fiona.

  “Two more squalling Scotts for you,” Alexander said and handed Jane his burden. Ruari did the same, and she cuddled the infants close. All wailing ceased. Angus saw Alexander’s mouth fall open in surprise, and he laughed.

  “Yes it’s called grandma’s touch,” he said.

  “Well, had I known about it, I would have kidnapped Jane and taken her to our house,” Ruari said, amidst the general laughter.

  “The boys are hungry,” Fiona said in a thread of a voice, but her men heard her.

  They pulled a chair close to the fire and got her bag ready for her. She sat down, and with Jane and Gloria in attendance, began to feed the boys. The men withdrew to the tea table where they and Llewellyn’s two young ones were plied with scones and cups of tea by the young waitress.

  “Fiona is looking far from well,” Angus said.

  “Yes, you think we don’t know that?” Alexander snapped then smiled ruefully. “I am sorry. It’s just she will not listen to anything we say about the babies, and we are so worried about her.”

  “Some Doms you turned out to be,” Llewellyn stated.

  “I don’t see you challenging what
your slave says when it comes to the children,” Angus countered. Llewellyn had the grace to look shame-faced.

  “It’s more than my life’s worth,” he agreed. They all laughed at his crestfallen look, but Angus saw that Alex and Ruari were looking relieved. Llewellyn could always defuse a situation.

  “We are hoping that Jane can talk some sense into her,” Ruari said.

  “By the look of things, she’s already started,” Angus said. “We may as well have some more tea and scones. Now they have babies to talk about and fuss over, those three are going to be a long time.”

  * * * *

  Jane knew she needed to be diplomatic. Fiona, being a new mum, would have raging hormones to contend with as well as the exhaustion of looking after two babies. I need more information before I try to help, and I am going to get Ruari or Alexander to fill me in. At the moment she was fully engaged with letting one of the twins suckle her finger while Fiona fed the other one. Fiona has the feeding under control as she alternates twins and breasts, but there’s something wrong and I mean to get to the bottom of it.

  That wasn’t the only thing bothering her. Emma looks a bit wan, and Eric’s treating her as if she’ll fall to pieces if he leaves her side. What can that be about? There are certainly going to be a few problems to solve this Christmas. Jane squared her shoulders and felt motivated as she hadn’t done for a long, long time. Well, no time for delay, best get on with it. She was about to open her mouth when the door to the drawing room opened and four more people walked in.