Highlander's Game
Authors: Jane Danger
Highlander's Game
By Jane Danger
Copyright © 2015 Jane Danger
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended for adults over the age of 18 only and all characters represented are 18 or over.
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Table of Contents
Other Titles
15
“On your knees, Lass. I'm afraid I cannot let you go anywhere.” Callum stood above Jocelin, holding the sword she'd brandished in a foolish attempt to threaten the laird's nephew Andrew.
Looking worse for wear, her dress muddied during her capture, Jocelin's mouth went dry, but not due to fear. The moisture left her mouth and cascaded down to the tight space between her legs. It was a sensation she'd not felt before and one she couldn't stop herself from enjoying.
Imprisoned for her feeble attempt to thwart the perverse advances of the laird's impish nephew, Jocelin awaited her sentencing, prepared to fight the injustice tooth and nail. Unlike the other young women in her small tight-knit village, she had the reputation of being bold and brash. That reputation did her no favors. She spent most of her days under the watchful eye of her brother, who made it his mission to keep her from sullying the family name any further.
“Lass, I will not tell you twice.” Callum's tone hinted at seduction, adding to Jocelin's minor unease.
“I will not get on my knees.”
Another man, far smaller in frame and with many more years on him, stepped forward, kicking dirt onto Jocelin's already soiled clothing. “Do as he says, wench!”
Quick to protest, Jocelin opened her mouth, only to take notice of the rugged, handsome Callum. From the top of his head to the broad shoulders and beyond to his muscled chest and arms, Jocelin was fixated on him, unable to respond to the older man's snide command.
Callum bent, offering her a firm hand. “To your feet.” Mesmerized by him and tingling from the warmth in his hands, Jocelin stood, abandoning all reason, her cheeks flushed as their eyes met.
“What will you do with me, sir?” She prayed that he wouldn't notice the trembling in her voice.
“Claim you, of course.” With that, Callum turned, leaving Jocelin and the smaller man standing face-to-face.
“But, sir...” Jocelin didn't know what to make of what he'd just said. She had no words left to speak. The tingling in her body heightened to levels that made her knees shake. Somehow, her worse nightmare had become something more and she wasn't quite sure whether or not to fear that something more or to crave it.
Calling behind him, Callum cried out, “Daniel, leave her!”
The smaller man studied her for a moment, eager to speak, but seemingly at a loss for words as well. Wanting to keep up the illusion, he spat in Jocelin's direction before turning on his heels to follow the stronger, much more handsome Callum.
The moments following that rather unusual encounter left Jocelin confused and intrigued. What had Callum meant? Was her life in danger? Surely, she would be punished. She'd accepted that possibility, but never expected that she could be claimed as if she were a possession and not a human being. Even in the midst of all the troubles that surrounded them with the former Polnoon Castle falling into decay at the hands of thieves and rogue bandits, Jocelin tended to believe that there were far more important issues to be dealt with than a young lass like herself.
Her only crime was brandishing a sword. It's not as if she'd used that sword on Andrew. As much as she would have liked to tear into his flesh, she wisely chose not to, knowing that she and her family would pay the price for such a grave mistake. Instead, she feigned prowess with the sword and was able to dissuade him from touching her inappropriately again. Now, she found herself in a cage, like a wild beast, awaiting her execution.
As the seconds turned to hours, Jocelin found herself growing more and more impatient and out of sorts. No one, save for the louse charged with providing scraps of nourishment had come to call on her. She still had not wrapped her mind around whatever punishment she was sure to receive. Panic and paranoia set in and took hold of her as the sun left the skies and the moon made its ominous appearance.
Only then did movement make the gallows come to life. The others began howling and calling out in desperation, trying to summon those in charge. A trio of figures approached Jocelin's cage, each cloaked in dark garb. She shuddered, believing this would be the end of her earthly time. Instead, she was taken aback by the sight of three giggling chamber maids hidden underneath the cloaks.
“What is this?” Jocelin asked, confused by their sudden interest in her.
One long finger reached out, touching the small crevice of her ample bosom. Jocelin swallowed back her fear, forcing herself not to bite the hand that held the finger. Again, giggles rang out among the three girls. Jocelin waited, anxious to know what it is they intended to do to her.
From behind them, Callum emerged, followed by a trio of similarly amused men. They stopped just under the light of the moon, allowing Jocelin to make out their profiles. She'd seen each of them before. They fought alongside Callum and had the battle scars to prove it. Each of them had a sea of eager young lasses clamoring for their attention.
Jocelin had never been much interested in finding her mate. Her life consisted of caring for her ailing mother and avoiding any semblance of a relationship that was surely doomed to fail. She had no real experience to speak of and took to learning to pleasure herself when the need became too strong to ignore.
Seeing these handsome devils, stirred something from deep inside her. Her heightened senses told her that they were not there to punish her. Callum's hooded eyes and full, moist lips told her what he had in mind was purely for the sake of pleasure.
Finally, the chamber maid with the seeking finger spoke, “We have come to release you at the request of these fine men.”
A collective 'Aye' rang out behind the three young women.
“Request for what purpose?” Jocelin asked.
“You have been claimed, Jocelin. Now, you must come with us. I assure you, what we have in mind will please you.” With that, the chamber maids opened the door, allowing Jocelin to step out. Her steps were tentative, but she followed, keeping a watchful eye on the four men in front of them.
“Where are we going?” Jocelin dared a question as they walked under the night sky.
One man, Jocelin recalled his name being Lachlan answered. “To the castle. The others are waiting.”
“The others?” Jocelin's heart began to race wildly inside her chest.
Callum stopped, signaling the others to move ahead. He looked down at Jocelin, examining every curve through her torn dress. Lifting a hand to her hair, he let down her long, curly tresses. Her breath caught as her hair skimmed her nearly exposed bosom. She moved to cover herself, Callum's hands stopped her.
“Take that off.” Jocelin's mouth again went dry. Removing her clothing publicly was not an option where she was concerned. She would lay down her life to not have to disrobe.
“I will not.” She answered.
“You will.” Callum's sudden smile caught her off guard. Nothing sinister seemed to be behind it. He removed his own shirt and yanked it overhead, telling her again to take off her dress.
Swimming in the over-sized shirt, she tried to protest. “But, I cannot...”
He put his hand up to her mouth. “You will. The women will find other clothing for you to wear. Now, take it off or I'll take it off for you.”
She stood still, willing herself to remain strong. A low, guttural laugh escaped Callum's core. Without saying another word, he lifted Jocelin into his arms and threw her over his shoulder. Jocelin squirmed and yelped, trying to release his tight grip on her. Her efforts were no match for the strong, rugged Highlander. He carried her on, following the others to their chosen destination. Each of them laughed and teased the young, spry lass as they went on their merry way.
“Put me down!” Jocelin demanded one final time before she landed on the cold floor of a rather expansive room in what was left of the Castle of Polnoon. Looking around, she asked, “Why have you brought me here?” Sitting up, she took in the full view of Callum's nether regions. His long, muscular legs were merely inches from her face. Her eyes cascaded up his body, exploring him in all of his masculine glory. He gave off a scent that smelled of man and sensuality. Something in the pit of her stomach stirred. She shivered at the sensation and stopped cold when her examination found a bulge larger than any other she'd ever imagined in her dreams.
“Aye. You will have that soon, lass.” Jocelin blushed, averting her eyes.
Before Jocelin had a chance to fully recover, the three women tugged her arm, beckoning her to follow them. Each of them took a portion of her gown and ripped what remained of it off her. They were not threatening, but it was disconcerting all the same. Jocelin didn't know what to make of it. Everything was taking place so quickly.
One of them took pity on her and introduced herself and the others to offer Jocelin comfort. “My name is Sophie. These two are Emma and Chloe. We mean you no harm, ma'am. I assure you, you will thoroughly enjoy what Callum and his men have in mind for you.”
“Callum and his men?” Jocelin's voice caught the attention of the men.
Sophie waved them off. “I'm simply explaining what the young lass has gotten herself into, gentlemen. No trouble here.”
“I don't want any part of whatever this is.” Jocelin started before a beautiful gown, complete with sash and ribbon was placed over her head. She'd never seen anything so beautiful in all of her life. “What is this?”
Callum whistled, capturing the attention of all of the others. “Our young misfit has gotten herself cleaned up, men. Behold, the beautiful Jocelin.”
The other men cheered, “Aye!”
What Jocelin hated more than being made a spectacle out of was being made a spectacle in front of a room of virtual strangers. While she'd seen each of them before, none of them were friends of hers or her family and the last thing she wanted to do was play along with the Highlander's Game – whatever it was.
“Am I free to go, you swines!” She spoke without thinking. Those in the room gasped, except Callum.
“You are not my prisoner, young Jocelin. You are my guest. You may leave as you choose, but I am begging you to stay. It's not often that I beg for anything or anyone, in your case.”
Jocelin was dumbfounded. What he proposed went against anything she'd been led to believe. Surely, threatening the laird's nephew would result in some hideous punishment, regardless of the reason why. Callum took his orders from the laird. Why wouldn't he do something to exact revenge on her? He was a Highlander. The clan lived and died by the code. There was no reason to believe her life would be spared.
Callum laughed, prompting the others in the room to laugh with him. “I'm not going to kill you. Here, take my sword. Hold it, if you must. You will not be punished by me or my men, I assure you. This, my dear, is the opposite of punishment. This is an exclusive invitation to a very private affair that few and I do mean few would ever be invited to attend.”
“But, I wasn't invited. I'm a prisoner.”
He interrupted her. “No, you are Jocelin tonight. You are mine.” Her eyebrows quirked up, nervous about the implication. He responded in kind. “I will not do anything to you that you won't allow us to do. We do not intend to hurt you.”
One of his men spoke up. “Aye, lass, you will enjoy your time with us.”
Callum rested his hand on her arm, caressing the soft skin with his thumb in an attempt to calm her nerves. As much fear as Jocelin felt, she also felt a tinge of titillation. No one had ever proposed such a thing to her. Remembering the large bulge, she let her eyes cast down and there it remained, promising and beckoning her to take it in her hands. She resisted, even though the wet space between her legs urged her to press on and delight in what he had to offer.
“But, what about my punishment?” The room erupted in laughter. Jocelin wasn't keen on being laughed at and sprang up to defend herself.
“Why are you laughing? I don't find this amusing. I'm being held here for... For what?” Suddenly, her argument seemed moot. She had the realization that this wasn't a punishment. Somehow, they believed this was a celebration. The question was, what were they celebrating and where in the world did they get the notion that she would want to participate?
While her experiences were rather benign and lent more toward juvenile experimentation, she had – on occasion – caused gasps and awe due to some of her less than ladylike remarks. After all, she was no longer a young child. She was a woman whose once lean body transformed into one with noticeable curves and a broadening bosom that didn't go unnoticed. Why, that's how she ended up here in the first place!
“I know what this is. The rumors I've heard in the village are true. The laird's men taking up with chamber maids and any other number of anxious, impure women – this is what I've stumbled into?” Looking into the deep, green eyes of Callum, Jocelin sought confirmation, but instead, found her voice caught in her throat as her body began to quiver in response.