Ravished by Redcoats (Highland Heat Book 1) Read online

  But the sobbing didn’t stop my body’s reaction on whit. Perhaps it made it stronger. Because while I serviced these men like a whore, I seemed to go suddenly blind. A burst of color exploded in my sight as my whole body tightened and released in exquisite release. Which man jerked his seed into me first, I don’t know. I was too busy spasming of my own account, screaming and crying at the white hot pleasure that threatened to burn me alive.

  ~~~

  When I came aware of myself again, I was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and seed, sticky and sore, curled upon a table, with the feel of lingering hands everywhere. I was exhausted, wet, aching where I didn’t think it possible to ache. And Major Anderson was at my side with a wash basin and a cloth, slowly stroking my foot, where a splatter of some man’s seed had landed.

  I could make no sense of this, of course.

  Men generally—and British officers in specific—did not bathe Scottish lasses, especially not strumpets like me. “What happened?”

  “You fucked every last man in my charge until none of them could rise to the occasion again,” the major said, with what I sensed was a very misplaced pride. “I fear young Branson is in love.”

  In spite of the empty kitchen, his words brought back hazy memories of men using me. Cheering me. Touching me. “No,” I gasped, with a furious shake of my head. “No. That can’t have happened. It can’t have!”

  My near-state of nakedness said otherwise. And so did Major Anderson. “I told you I would make your first time as wicked as possible.”

  “With you! I never thought—”

  “Of course you didn’t; virgins are seldom as imaginative as they ought to be…but you seem entirely sated, my dear. And it would pain me to think you regretted the experience. After all, there’s no use crying over spilled milk!”

  He chuckled a bit at his double-meaning, for his men had certainly spilled their milk upon me. And I gawped, because it was useless to argue with such a silver-tongued man. But as he gently sponged between my legs, I grasped at his wrist with all the strength left in me. “You don’t understand. I fear that I’ve lost my sanity. I agreed to be your mistress. But to accept what I just did with your men would unravel me completely. I fear I would walk into the sea and wish to drown!”

  He searched my face as if to gauge my seriousness, and whatever he saw there sobered him. “Well, we can’t have that,” the major said, a certain softness to his voice. “I think you’re stronger than that, my dear Sorcha. But I understand that you’ve taken a bit of shock. So if you wish to pretend that you didn’t just fuck, and suck, and stroke my men with more enthusiasm than a brothel girl…I will not force you to recollect it. At least not for the time being. I have too many other enjoyable plans for you, after all.”

  “You have plans for me still?” I asked, blinking up at him.

  It couldn’t be possible that he would still want me.

  Not after what I’d just done.

  Any man would see me as ruined completely—would view me with contempt, I was sure. But not this man. “My dear Sorcha, I’ve claimed you for my mistress. Quite thoroughly. And I intend to treat you as such.”

  “Which means…what?” I asked, wary of how tenderly he was washing me. Wary, too, of the strange feelings that were rising up inside me. I’d done this as an act of mad rebellion against my father, against my heartache, and in the hopes I might help the cause. “Is there to be a fondness between us?”

  “Of course!” he said. “I’ve never been able to keep a mistress without some real feeling welling up inside me, and I have a tender emotion for you already, I must confess. You needn’t worry about returning the feeling, of course. That isn’t part of the agreement. But I suspect you won’t mind, very much, being the object of my ardent affection.”

  No, I thought, calming entirely within myself at the treasonous thought.

  No, I don’t suppose I would mind it very much at all.

  He smirked a bit at the grip of my hand as it loosened so that I could surrender to the ministrations of his hands, as he continued to wash me. “That’s it,” he said, quite lovingly. “Be good, Sorcha.”

  I supposed he’d given me a new meaning for that phrase altogether.

  EXCERPT

  And now a bonus excerpt…

  CLAUDIA

  Plundered by Praetorians

  Chera Zade

  ~~~

  “You’re the emperor’s daughter. It’s not permitted that any man should touch you.”

  “Then don’t touch me,” I said, drawing close enough that he might smell the sweet honeyed wine on my breath. So close that my nipples brushed the back of his folded arms. “I will touch you…”

  There was a moment—just a moment—that I thought he’d let me.

  Then he turned and walked out.

  I didn’t give up. The next night Marcus was stationed at my door, I pressed myself against him, my fingers tracing beneath the leather pleats of his military skirt, enjoying in the feel of his strong thigh muscles.

  He twitched with anger. “Stop it, Lady Claudia. Be mindful of your virtue!”

  “That’s your job, isn’t it? To protect me from everything—especially the loss of my virtue? So, what are you going to do about it, praetorian?”

  “I’m going to tell the emperor!”

  I laughed, grinding wantonly against his thigh, loving the feel of it against the wet thatch between my legs. “Go on, then. Tell my father that I tried to seduce you. I’ll burst into sudden tears and say that you attacked me. Who do you think the emperor will believe?” I batted my lashes with exaggerated guilelessness. “A sweet, sheltered, innocent girl? Or a praetorian and whoremonger like you?”

  I admit, I wasn’t as confident as I sounded.

  My father could be a suspicious, paranoid man. He would not take kindly to any stain on the family honor. But the way the handsome praetorian swallowed told me that he wouldn’t take the risk.

  He wouldn’t go to my father no matter what I did.

  Which only made me more brazen.

  The next night I made certain that Marcus came upon me not only disrobed, but sprawled upon a couch, fingering my clitoris in the way I’d seen dancing girls do for men at banquets. Another night, I reached between his legs, slipping my fingers beneath his loincloth, stroking the hardening phallus I found there.

  Oh. It was wonderful to touch a man’s cock. I’d never felt anything like it. I loved the heaviness of it as it swelled and throbbed in my hand. His hands both fisted at his sides and he never touched me—never once—but his eyes pleaded with me not to stop.

  While I stroked him, we stared at one another, our breathing picking up the pace. Rubbing my body up against his, I hoped the chill of his breastplate would ease the fever of my body, but it only made me hotter.

  “Tell me to stroke you,” I whispered.

  He clenched his jaw. “No.”

  “I’ve seen slaves breeding,” I confessed. “I know how it’s done.”

  “Seeing isn’t doing,” he snapped.

  “Then show me. Teach me, Marcus Horatius Barbatus.”

  “No,” he said, again, this time through clenched teeth.

  “You want me to keep touching you, Marcus. You don’t want me to stop. You want me to stroke you until you spill your seed all over my divine hand. Don’t you?”

  He didn’t answer. But the color of arousal was upon his cheeks as I stroked him harder, slipping my fingers over the knob of his organ, rubbing like a cat against his leg. “Are you going to come?” I asked, knowing that he was going to. His shaft was jumping and pulsing in my palm, a little bit of wetness having already oozed out. “You’re so close, aren’t you?”

  He merely braced his back against the wall and closed his eyes, as if in surrender to the inevitable. And that made me cruel. “Well, I suppose you ought to go seek out one of those brothel girls who can supposedly satisfy you much better…”

  With that, I let go of him, and walked away.

&nb
sp; I congratulated myself that evening on having bested the man.

  I suspected Marcus would ask for a reassignment, that he’d volunteer for any duty that would take him away from me. I’d broken him, I thought.

  But I had little idea what I’d actually unleashed…

  Read More…

  DEAR READERS

  Thank you for reading Ravished by Redcoats, the first part in my Highland Heat series.

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  OTHER BOOKS

  Read More Historical Erotica by Chera…

  Gladiator/Rome

  Reward for the Gladiators

  The Handmaiden: Taken by the Gladiators

  Claudia: Plundered by Praetorians

  Viking

  Brigette: Taken by Vikings

  Conquered by Vikings

  Ravished by the Vikings

  Vinland Revelries: Taken by the Vikings

  Medieval

  Punished at the Pillory

  Sacrificed for Spring

  For the King's Pleasure

  Paying the Price: Taken by Knights