by Reece Butler
“Ah, lass, ye are a fine wife,” he murmured after an eternity had passed, and she could breathe again.
“Hmmm,” she replied, unable yet to speak. Two orgasms in quick order scrambled her brain. They also made her bones limp. She was done for the night, though was still on Gillis’s chest. Their size difference was such that she could lie straight on him and not fall off. She shifted so her hip touched the pallet. Her back rested against Angus’s chest.
“Ye are far more than this.” Gillis clasped a bottom cheek in one big hand. “Though yer body fair makes me tremble.”
“Aye there’s more,” added Angus. “This pair of beauties to start.” He moved so he could flick his tongue over her nipple. Her pussy throbbed in response.
Perhaps she wasn’t done for the night.
“Ye done good today, Fiona,” said Gillis quietly. “I am that proud of ye. Ye didna say one word of complaint.” He opened his eyes and shot her a glare. “Ye should have, mind. We dinna wish our wee wife to get her arse and legs sore from riding a horse.” He relaxed again. “Riding yer men, now that’s different.” He followed it with a wink to say he was only partially serious.
“Ye shouldna be so sore from yer horse on the morrow,” added Angus. “‘Tis a much shorter distance we must cover.” He hesitated. “Are ye scared about meeting yer uncle? He’s a man with much gold, power, and influence with the king.”
Lovat didn’t have the same power over her as her father had. With Menzies she couldn’t let even a suggestion of defiance show. It was different now. She’d been married, twice, and a husband’s word counted over a father or uncle.
Except on his own land, where he was the law.
No. She would be safe. Gillis and Angus would protect her. She knew it, deep in her heart. It felt strange to feel safe. She was used to being alone and afraid. Having two men care for her, protect her and make her feel this wonderful, had been unimaginable.
This new life was not from her imagination. It was real. And she would do anything to keep it. Thinking of a future with a home, a family, and children brought wistful tears. She would see her uncle, find out about her mother, and then they would leave for Duncladach. She swirled her finger through Gillis’s chest hair.
“Lady Cameron said he was fond of my mother. Surely he will be kind.”
“To ye, aye,” said Angus. His fingers trailed down her backbone. She shivered. She couldn’t get enough of his gentle touch. “Lovat may not think as kindly about MacDougals. His lady wife is a Campbell, though of Cawdor. They’re close, but not Highlanders.”
“No matter what happens we will stay as yer men,” promised Gillis. He wrapped his paw around her hand and settled to sleep. “Best to nod off afore yon Camerons crowd in. That lot will be snorin’ and fartin’, to be sure.”
“And ye think ye don’t?” she demanded. She pulled her hand loose to get more comfortable.
He opened one eye. “Lass, it doesna count when ‘tis yer husband.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “Why not, when ye smell as bad?”
“When ye care for a person their farts dinna smell.” He nodded seriously when she snorted at the idea. “Why, yers are sweet. Just as the rest of ye.” Gillis closed his eyes tight, making it obvious. “Now hush. Ye fair wore me out.”
Rather than reply in words she let her chin clunk down on his chest. He made an oof sound, though his lips tipped up. His hand curved around, covering her bottom cheek. He patted it fondly, then squeezed.
“If ye start touchin’ me like that again Gillis MacDougal I willna leave ye be.”
“Is that a promise ye are makin’?” Angus tugged on her hair, the part above her eyes.
“Aye, and a warnin’ that if ye rouse the beast, ye must feed her.” She shuffled around until she was comfortable, a man on either side.
Angus, against her back, tossed his plaid over the three of them. His hand reached over her shoulder to clasp her lower breast. He flicked her nipple with his thumb.
“I’ll give ye fair warning, wife,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ll be feeding yer beast afore we break our fast.”
“I hope ‘tis a promise, nay a warning,” she shot back. A dry chuckle was his only reply.
Chapter Eight
As promised, Angus woke his wife with caresses. She’d slept through Cameron’s men, and Gillis, slipping out to start the day. He began as soon as the door shut behind them. His cock was hard, his need was great, and he had a good idea it would be some time before he could once more slip into her welcoming body.
Still half-asleep, she murmured his name when he laid her on her back and took her nipple into his mouth. He gave equal attention to them both, fingering her wet pussy as he brought her to full awareness. He needed to take her, to possess her. To show her that no matter what her uncle’s riches could provide, he was her husband. The first morning of their marriage had been interrupted. It would not happen today!
“Up on yer knees, wife,” he commanded. He helped her roll, then lifted her hips. As soon as she was in position he filled her.
“Oh!” The quick exhale was followed by a low groan as she pulled air into her lungs. “Mmm, ye are so thick and long. Ye go so deep.”
“Does it pain ye?”
“Nay, feels good. So good.”
He put one hand on her clit, the other on her breast. That was met with another groan. She was already wet, her breasts swollen and nipples hard. Yes! This is how a man greets his wife in the morning!
Her orgasm was smaller, more a quiet rumble than an explosion. She had a smile like an angel lit from within. The sight of her bliss made him tremble, needing to erupt.
“Ye. Are. My. Wife!”
He interspersed each word with a thrust, almost out and then to the hilt. Each word was followed by her grunt or gasp. He was on the edge, his balls tight, holding it in.
“Who do ye belong to?” he demanded. He ground his groin against her ass.
“My husband,” she answered, panting. “Both of ye.”
“And ye will obey us, aye?”
This time he had to wait for her answer. He held them both still though it damn near killed him to do it.
“Aye,” she finally said.
“Ye dinna sound too sure on it.”
“I’ll do me best.”
“Ye’d better do more than that or you’ll be having the flat of my hand on your arse.”
She clenched him with her pussy muscles. Somehow she made the tightness roll from the base of his shaft to the head, as if milking him. He’d thought he was in control because it was his cock in her, his hands holding her still. But no, she had to show him she was no empty vessel waiting to be filled.
“Ye are playing with fire, wife,” he warned.
“What shall ye do about it, then?” she sassed. She squeezed again, hard.
He set both hands on her hips, removing them from her clit and nipple. She whimpered in complaint, then shifted. She put one hand between her legs, using the other to support her.
His grin at her taking over turned into a grimace as his need to come grew stronger. He hauled her hips back and slammed forward, pounding against her. Wet slapping sounds filled his ears, fast and loud in the small hut.
She gasped, once, and her pussy contracted around him. Her orgasm sent his seed racing from his balls, through his cock, and deep into her.
“Mine!” he roared as he filled her, plunging into her heat again and again.
* * * *
“Why are they looking at me like that?” Fiona demanded of Gillis as she broke her fast. “I made no sound this morning.”
“Ye didna scream,” he admitted, giving her a red, hairy grin. “Did ye nay hear Angus roar that ye belonged to him?” He leaned closer, waggling his bushy red eyebrows like caterpillars. “‘Tis hard to miss that wet slapping sound. He took ye like a stallion, aye?”
“They all ken it?” she demanded, horrified.
Gillis, unrepentant, nodded gleefully. “Ye go
t them so needy they’ll be riding for Marta’s cottage afore heading to the castle.”
“Marta?”
“The village whore.”
“All six men?”
“Aye.” Gillis winked. “One night Marta took on a whole platoon. I heard her grin wore off about the time she stopped walking bowlegged.”
“What?” Her voice squeaked.
“She enjoyed herself, lass. And the coin that came with it. She’s a bawdy one, is Marta.” He looked her over, tilting his head. She braced herself, knowing his comment would irritate her. “Ye have a wee bit of that as well.” He leaned close as she sputtered for an answer. “‘Tis pleased, we are. Most fine-born ladies dinna enjoy bedsport as ye do.”
“I’m no fine-born lady!”
“And thank the Lord fer that!” Gillis shook his shaggy head. “We dinna wish to have aught to do with a lying, scheming, cheatin’ fine lady what acts like her sh— I mean, her farts dinna stink.” He nudged her. “And as for that, well, I were downwind of ye this morning and”—he waved his hand in front of his face, fanning air away—”wheesh, did ye reek!”
“Me?” She swatted his chest. “Ye fool! Ye were standing aside Dubhmor’s tail when he lifted it. Dinna blame me for that!”
“Well, it made ye fergit about yer sore arse, aye?”
Fiona swatted him again, both of them laughing. While she would rather have her head bare she put on her bonnet when she dressed. Clean, her accursed red hair was like a torch in the green bracken. It would be different at the end of summer when the hills turned red. Then she could more easily hide. As she was now married no doubt she’d be told to wear a kerch all day, something she knew she’d hate. Her husbands had made it very clear she was not to cut her hair again. Part of her was annoyed they would tell her how to dress and keep herself. Another part was pleased they cared.
As no one was looking their way she stuck her tongue out at Gillis, flicking the tip up. She’d done the same thing to his cock. He cursed, face reddening, and turned away. She snickered. Gillis suddenly stomped over. The wicked gleam in his eyes had her taking a step back. He grabbed a handful of hair and tugged her head back. A hundred tiny pinpricks erupted. They shot to her pussy, exploding in pleasure. With his other arm he pulled her body tight against his.
“I ken what ye were thinkin’, wife. This will tide ye over ‘till I next lift yer skirts.”
His tongue plunged between her teeth, taking what he wanted. She wanted it as well. She grabbed his hair in both hands, holding him close. Their tongues dueled. She wasn’t strong enough to take over, so she rubbed herself against him like a cat. His hand dropped from her back to her arse. His hot palm branded her. His fingers dug under her buttocks. Holding her tight, he rubbed his cock against her belly.
When he finally pulled his lips away both of them panted. He bared his teeth, hauling air deep into his lungs. His fierce expression confirmed that it had not been a lover’s kiss but a demonstration of ownership. Thankfully, he continued to hold her snug against him as she would have collapsed otherwise. It took her a moment before her trembling legs would support her.
When he stepped back he looked her over with a smug smirk. Her blood pulsed like thunder. She had no doubt his cock did as well. She panted, still fighting for air because of the tight cloth around her chest.
“Mine,” he said in a low growl, in case she hadn’t understood.
“Aye, just as ye are mine,” she replied, her voice equally rough.
“Jesu, think o’ the rest of us,” complained one of the younger guards. “We’ve no woman warmin’ our beds.”
“Good,” replied Angus briskly. “Seein’ what ye canna have is good for yer character.”
The young man grumbled something about not needing more character but he said it to his horse.
“Dinna fash, laddie,” said Ambrose. He sounded much too cheerful as he slapped Gillis on the back. “We’ll be visitin’ Marta this eve but ‘tis likely the newlyweds will be sleepin’ apart for a wee while. Methinks Lord Lovat will wish to keep his niece apart from ye.” He leaned his head close. “The two of ye are as bad as Laird and Lady Cameron in years past.”
“Good,” replied Gillis. He looked too pleased with himself for Fiona’s liking. He shook his finger at her “We shall be doin’ that for many years, wife.”
“Not in front of Lovat,” added Ambrose, looking at Fiona with narrowed eyes. “He’ll be wanting to see his niece behavin’ as a lady.”
She stuck her fists on her hips, tilted her head, and narrowed her eyes. “And how is that?”
“Ye speak only when ye’re spoken to, and then ye do it sweet and soft. Ye must never disagree,” he added, grinning at her. “Ye keep yer eyes down and yer face flat as if ye have no thoughts of yer own. You wear skirts and walk with small steps so ye dinna trip.”
He imitated a woman’s bland face and mincing step, pretending to hold out skirts, eyelashes fluttering. His men burst out laughing. He gave a mock curtsy, waving an invisible handkerchief.
“I ken how to keep my mouth shut,” she replied once the laughter had faded. “But I’ll not pretend to have the brain of a sheep. Nor will I bat my eyes like one. And I’d never walk like that, even in skirts.”
They rode off soon after. She inhaled, sitting tall in spite of her aches. She wanted to kick her horse into a gallop and race into the day. Gillis and Angus rode in front with the guard captain. She was told to ride in the middle of the men. To protect her, they’d said. She gave a quiet snort of disgust. The real reason was they knew she loved to gallop. They suggested if she was a good horseman she would not have been dumped and captured by the Campbells.
It was one thing to race in delight along a path such as this and another to race for your life away from an enemy across unknown land. This day she had no fear for her life, yet they refused to let her prove her riding skills. She’d asked yesterday if she could ride Laird Cameron’s giant black stallion. Angus said no. Dubhmor was presently under her husband’s arse. He’d given Gillis a chance at the beast but had refused her. He said it was far too much horse for her, and even if she were bigger, it was a stallion so therefore a man’s horse.
He was wrong, and she was going to prove it to him today, no matter what!
She’d have to behave once they reached Fraser lands. She wanted her uncle to see her as female since her father had refused to. She also wanted him to know she was competent in things most women knew nothing about. The thought of having to appear demure and obedient made her twitch. She had only a few hours left. She would use her time well.
When they stopped for a break she did her business quickly and hurried back. Laird Cameron’s stallion was older but still magnificent. While the men were occupied she greeted Dubhmor, letting him smell her while crooning to him. He responded to the attention as she’d hoped he would. She took a quick glance around. No one paid her attention. She climbed into the saddle. Dubhmor must have been bored with the slow pace of the last few days because he responded to her touch. A moment later they were racing along the path. Angus would get angry for her disobeying him, but she had to show him her skills. And who knew if, after today, her uncle would let her ride astride, much less race a fast horse. This would make any punishment worthwhile.
The wind blew through her hair. The last time she’d raced like this she’d been terrified as the hounds of hell chased her. This was a far better horse and there was a good track to follow. She heard Angus’s roar and Gillis’s bellow for her to stop. He would bluster and roar but wasn’t likely to raise his hand to her. Plus, according to the law, he was no longer her husband.
Angus was another matter.
She’d thought she had the best horse and could ride until she decided to stop. A quick glance behind showed Angus gaining on her.
“Stop if ye ken what’s good for ye!” he yelled.
Fiona contemplated it for all of two heartbeats, then leaned over the stallion’s mane once again. Without the tight binding she
could breath and enjoy the exhilaration. A laugh of freedom and joy burst out. She whooped in joy.
A moment later she felt a slight falter in Dubhmor’s gait. She immediately slowed. It was one thing to urge a horse to enjoy a run, quite another to recklessly endanger the animal. Dubhmor shook his mane, blowing out then whinnying, as if reliving his days as Laird Cameron’s top stud.
“Ye are a beast of wonder,” she told him, giving his neck a good pat. “‘Twas a fine ride ye gave me.”
“Ye said that to me last eve, wife,” said Angus, now beside her.
Fiona could tell by the growl he was furious. She refused to look at him, as if that would make it go away.
“And it was true then, as it is now,” she replied. “I lost my breath both times.”
She chanced a glance. She’d never seen him so furious. But then she’d only known him a week and had spent little time with him except when naked or in the company of others.
“There is a wee difference, wife,” said Gillis, who had caught up with them. “I heard ye laugh just now. Last night ye were shrieking.”
“Aye,” she replied pertly, “and ye were bellowing.” She was in trouble already and had little to lose. “As ye were just now,” she added.
Angus leaned over, taking her reins. She thought he looked disappointed in her. It made her hurt under her breastbone. Unused to such feelings, she responded with anger.
“What do ye expect? You wouldna let me ride the horse. I told ye I could, but ye didna believe me. Now ye know I am no weakling to be coddled by the fire with the crippled old ones.”
Angus didn’t speak. He dismounted, handed the reins to Gillis, and then stood by her. Face blank, eyes hard, he held his hands up for her to dismount.
“That was the first taste of freedom I’ve had,” she told him bluntly. “Ye can lecture all ye like. ‘Twas worth it to feel the wind in my hair!”