He was on his ass on the bank, roaring with mirth, when she surfaced. Though she was freezing, the sight caught her, him laughing like a boy. She was glad to give that back to him. He’d been too serious since the mall episode, and his reaction to Evan’s statement about wanting to protect them both gave her a remarkable realization, one too remarkable for her to acknowledge on her own.

You are not alone in your fear of your fate, yekirati. It’s a shadow over his heart, just as it is mine. Please him, make him laugh. It will help dispel the shadows for you both.

Maybe not just the two of them, she thought. She slid through the water, teeth chattering, but the warm weight of her heart, pounding in her chest at such a miraculous admission, balanced it. She was cared about. How much or how little was inconsequential—she’d never had the sense of any degree of it before. That shouldn’t matter to her, but it did, and Evan made it seem like that was okay.

But her Master had also given her a charge, and she was more than willing to carry it out.

The bucket was on the bank, right there by the stump. And Niall was not the only one who could move quickly.

He’d thought the fight would go out of her with her dunking. By the time he realized otherwise, she was upon him, full bucket in hand. A startled exclamation and she’d doused him full in the face and chest. Then she dropped the bucket and ran.

He caught her right before the cabin door. He took her down to the ground, his body covering hers, and though she struggled to flip him, to break the hold, he had an attack strategy she hadn’t expected. Evan’s shirt was glued to her body. When he lifted off of her enough to bring her up onto her hands and elbows, his body still covering hers, he skimmed his hand beneath her, over the stiff, cold points of her breasts, down along her abdomen.

“Stay on your elbows, lass. Pull your hair over your right shoulder.”

She was breathing hard, shivering, but that heat against her back spread between her legs. When she obeyed, he cupped her breasts again, fondling them, enjoying the tight tips as he pressed his lips to the small of her back where he peeled Evan’s shirt away from her damp flesh.

“When he had ye bent on the picnic table I wanted ye tied there, your pale arse in the air, your quim slick and pink, ready.” The accent got stronger, its effect devastating. She imagined him walking right out of the eighteenth century, a Highland Scot as wild and untamed as the land itself. She closed her eyes, her body rippling in response. “Would ye like that, lass?” he rumbled.

“Yes.”

That dual level of approval coursed through her, increasing the heat in her core. Once again, admitting her own desires made these two men even harder. Her own needs and wants were something this vampire and his servant demanded to know.

Good girl.

Won’t you come join us again, Master? Evan’s voice made her push her luck.

You are a shameless wanton, but no. I will enjoy this through Niall’s mind and yours. Give me that gift, Alanna. Let me feel everything you want to feel under his touch. He is an incomparable lover.

She breathed out a low hum of pleasure as Niall opened his jeans. He paused, making an adjustment with a huff of sound. “Have to get my drawers out of my arse, thanks to you, muirnín. And just for that . . .”

He put a firm hand on the back of her neck, holding her there, and gave her several firm smacks across her abused buttocks, making her yelp.

“Lucky I didn’t use this.” On their last dash past the table, he’d retrieved the belt Evan had used. Now he looped it around her thighs, cinching them tight just above her knees. “No more running from me tonight.”

“No, sir.” She moaned as he captured her breasts again in his large hands, fondling and kneading, brushing his fingers over the nipples, rubbing them until she was squirming from the sensations shooting through her body from those sensitive zones. When his cock probed her wet folds, she was eager, ready. With her thighs held together like that, it made the entry even tighter, more excruciating, and would give her a slow build to climax. Niall had some of the same pleasurably sadistic tendencies as their Master, when it came down to it. And she didn’t mind.

He was in the mood to pleasure himself. She wondered if he knew how hot it made her, being so obviously used for his own desires. He started thrusting in, good and deep, grunting his enjoyment of it.

“So hot and wet . . . so fucking tight.”

His strokes became stronger, his testicles slapping against her clit, but not enough, not enough friction. She pressed back against him, ground against him, wanting more, needing more. He gave her backside another sharp slap, making her behave, but then he reached beneath her to capture a nipple and flick and tweak it, increasing the sensation.

“Oh . . . Niall . . . God . . .”

“Fuck, you have gorgeous hair.” He wrapped his hands in it, pulling her head back, his knuckles pressed into a mass of silken strands between her shoulder blades as he straightened to make his thrusts faster, more intense. She dug her fingers into the ground, holding on, because he was powerful enough to drive her into the earth itself. She could feel his strength, restrained to protect her far-too-human frailty, even as he was letting enough of his third-mark strength loose to make her feel totally taken.

He released, hot seed spurting through her, making her groan with the shooting pleasure of it, her body quivering, cunt squeezing him, so close to that pinnacle, but needing his help to get her there. She wanted it with a fierce intensity that could turn her into a snarling cat. She scrabbled at the earth, raked her nails over it, meeting him thrust for thrust, the earth becoming mud against her forearms, her knees dug into it, because they’d both dripped water into the ground they were plowing.

As he finished, he pulled out, making her cry out in angry need. He gave her a sharp pinch for that which made her bite back any more protests. Sliding his hands under her thighs, he lifted her hips up to his mouth, keeping only her elbows in contact with the ground.

She moaned as he put his hot mouth on her still spasming pussy, began to work her, sucking her clit, eating her out with lashing tongue, sucking lips, nipping teeth.

She came with a gush of fluids that he lapped and suckled like mother’s milk, making noises of hunger and approval as she screamed, echoing out across the mountains. When she was shuddering through the last spasms, he put her back on all fours and plunged into her once more, letting her feel that fullness, that possessive branding, the aftershocks exploding into another orgasm.

As he wound down, he fell over her body, hands planted into the mud on either side of hers, cock still buried deep, pelvis flush against her backside, knees on either side of her bound thighs.

“You’re a treasure, lass,” he muttered. “An absolute fucking treasure. Anyone makes you feel different, me and Evan will take his fucking heid.”

Amazing words. A powerful experience that woke her several times during her early morning sleep, shivering with the need for their hands on her again. Her punishment after dinner, sitting in that chair, seeing Niall’s gaze course over her naked body, lingering on her exposed cunt, had left her feverish. Especially when Evan released her two hours later, only to order her to go to bed without further relief. They really had unleashed something in her, a need to touch and be touched that seemed to be growing, sweeping over her in heavier waves, until she put her hand between her legs and held it there as she slept, a pressure that couldn’t replace them, but comforted and soothed . . . somewhat. It was never-ending, this feeling of being wanted . . . desired . . . cared for.

She’d had such a malady before, in the days before she was assigned to Stephen. A girl’s romantic imaginings, wanting to be everything to her Master. After he’d taken her virginity, then ordered her to assume her household duties, she learned the most critical InhServ lesson. She’d imagined herself becoming the center of his universe, a reward for her making him the center of hers. She was not a girl in love, however, able to moon about, wanting to be touched and loved. He was the center of her universe always, while she was merely a star that shone for his benefit.

For a month, she’d punished herself daily with a steel-tipped cat for the unforgivable emotional faux pas. Just as it had kept the monks’ minds away from temptation during medieval times, the bite of the whip served a useful purpose. It tore the flesh from her back in the morning, but she was healed by the time her Master rose at dusk. Nothing unsightly about her appearance to inconvenience him, and her emotions were channeled only to his needs.

She understood her human reaction to certain stimuli. Such emotions couldn’t be prevented, but an InhServ learned to suppress them so they didn’t interfere with one’s responsibilities. However, instead of suppressing them, Evan wanted her to feel such things. Was it possible she could channel the energy into service, and still obey the InhServ code?

She had an immediate chance to test it. As she lay there with her hand between her thighs, Niall came into their bedroom and kissed her even more awake, until she was clinging to his neck and he was holding her hard against his body.

“No time for that, muirnín,” he muttered against her mouth. “Much as I hate to say it. We have to travel today. Time to pack.”

Anticipation is part of the pleasure. Evan’s voice stroked her. While we travel, you’ll put your hand between your legs again, Alanna. You will pleasure yourself for us. Well, for me. Niall will be driving, and we wouldn’t want to encourage unsafe driving practices.

“Bastard,” Niall snorted, but his mouth was busy across her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth.

Evan’s mind-voice changed, became more intent. I want to see her get lost in it.

She was lost in it now. Niall groaned against her lips as she deepened the kiss, using her tongue to tease as she slid a leg up over his hip, pressing herself against his groin.

“Needy wee thing,” he muttered. “Fuck. Evan . . .”

Alanna. The sharpness in her Master’s voice recalled her instantly. What was she doing? Startled, she pushed away from Niall, moving to the edge of the bed, trying to get her breath.