by Reece Butler
“What does Kiera wish for herself?”
“A strong husband, bairns, and bein’ lady of her own ca—” MacKenzie coughed, pounding his fist into his chest. “She wishes to be the lady of her wee tower in Cromarty.”
“I heard she wishes to be laird, not lady.”
MacKenzie grumbled as more chips flew. Malcolm waited, but he didn’t deny it. He slowed, then shook his head, grimacing.
“The lass kenned she was as able as her brothers. In the schoolroom, and out of it. She couldna ken why wearing skirts stopped her from being laird when Colin has one eye, thanks to that bedamned William Sinclair of Braal, may he burn in hell.” He gave the sign of the evil eye.
“Ye didna have her trained in the sword, did ye?”
That got him a glare. “Do ye take me for a fool? A lass canna swing a sword against a man.” He sniffed. “Mind ye, she did learn a thing or two about using her dirk. ‘Twas Colin’s doin’, nay mine.”
He’d have to make sure he never bedded down with her when she was angry. He’d heard a lot about her temper. Maybe he’d have to keep her dirk from her unless she was eating. Gillis had told them how he and Angus kept Fiona under control by keeping her wet and eager. He could use his skills as a MacDougal to keep her wishing to be sweet to him. That would only work if she wanted him, and Duff, in her bed.
“Will she say aye to our marriage?”
“Kiera had her chance when she eloped. This time I will chose her husband. ‘Tis up to her if she wishes to be happy as yer wife. But afore ye meet ye must learn about bein’ the laird of a wee tower.”
He and his brothers had put all their efforts into survival. The only learning they had was from an old man who taught them their letters during bleak winter days and told tales during the long, dark evenings while they repaired nets or did other handiwork by the meager fire. A small peel tower wasn’t much, but it was far more than he was ready for. He couldn’t afford pride to hold him back from being a good laird, or husband.
“Kiera will be at our side, nay pushed behind us, Laird MacKenzie.” He used the formal title on purpose. This was a promise he was making, an oath. “We will listen to her. She will be our partner as well as our wife.”
MacKenzie’s shoulders dropped, tension easing. Then he grinned, strode over, and slapped Malcolm on the back so hard he took a step to stay upright.
“Ha! I was right! Ye think of the lassie as more than a walking womb who brings a wee tower and land with the beddin’ of her.”
“Aye,” he agreed, rolling out his shoulder. “But there can only be one laird, and that will be me. None will ken a woman guides us. And I willna let her think I will listen until she submits her will to me.”
Having gotten what he wanted, the laird went back to his whittling. Malcolm realized the man used it partly to give him time to think, and to avoid having to look at the person he was talking to. It was a useful tool, both the creating of things while otherwise talking, as well as seeming to be less aware of what was said.
“Ye’ll make her kneel to ye, as laird and husband, to tame her?”
Kiera had the knowledge to do many things but as she was female, was not allowed. She’d lashed out using her only weapons, which were harsh words and an irritable demeanor. Once she felt valued her behavior could well change.
“Kiera doesna need taming, Laird MacKenzie. I wish her to keep her claws, but learn to sheath them. She will learn that I am in control of her body and all she does, and that obeying me instantly will keep her, and her clan, safe. It will be her choice to kneel to me.”
A gleam appeared in MacKenzie’s eyes. “That I would like to see. She’s been as prickly as a gorse bush without the flowers since she was dumped back on my land as a widow. Her viper tongue has sharpened even more since I married.”
“Is that why ye’re ‘allowing’ her to spend her summer alone?”
He snorted. “‘Twas that or locking her in her room! She took her wool and flax to the high sheiling near the loch to spin it.” He grimaced. “Kiera and my new wife Silean are of an age. A man canna eat with the two of them glaring at each other. We’re all glad of the peace these last weeks.”
“A new wife pushing her out of place gives Kiera an even stronger reason to marry and leave Castle Leod.”
“Aye, she wants to be at her own home,” continued MacKenzie. “The only way is by takin’ ye as her laird and husband. So she will say aye to yer marriage.”
“And when she does, she must depend on me to care for her. Not because she canna care for herself, but because my will is stronger. She will learn I will protect her and our bairns because of my greater strength, in my body and in my will.”
“She will kneel, and resent the need of it.” MacKenzie’s head was down as he concentrated on his duck though he looked at Malcolm from the corners of his eyes.
“Kiera will kneel to her laird husband by her own choice, kenning it is what she wants, and is best for us all. I will not tolerate vicious words and tantrums, by anyone.”
“I figured ‘twould take one lad to bed her and one to rule.”
“I’ll be doin’ both, Laird MacKenzie, and she’ll obey because of it.”
“I thought ‘twas women who used the bed to control their men?”
Malcolm was pleased to tell the laird something new to him. “If a man kens well how to make a woman scream when she peaks, he can bring her near and deny her that joy. Cormac says it works as a punishment, and a reminder. Kiera will listen.”
Hoots of laughter echoed off the stone walls. He waited until the man calmed down. The old goat even had to wipe his eyes.
“Laddie, if Kiera’s a true MacKenzie she’ll be wanting lots of bedding. Ye have the right of it.”
“All the better. If she doesna obey we’ll take her to the edge and leave her to think on it while tied to the bedposts. She will learn to obey as she’ll be rewarded when she does.”
The laird shook his head in astonishment. “Ye think ye can do that with my wee shrew?”
“MacDougals have little to offer a wife but ourselves. It makes a man eager to learn to satisfy a woman.”
He’d watched how Gillis, while at Duncladach, picked his tiny warrior wife up and carried her where he wanted, whenever he wished. Fiona would fight and scream and pummel him, but not in fear. A while later they’d hear her screams and his bellows. A while after that they’d come to the hall, hand in hand, both of them looking like well-fed cats. One night when Angus was making her scream Gillis described in detail to them all how he kept his wife in line. Malcolm and Duff had begun that night practicing making the alphabet with their tongue.
“And yer brother’s the same?” MacKenzie’s grin near split his face when Malcolm nodded. “Duff is to report at the next full moon. I said he’s to put a babe in her belly. If he has I’ll send him away for a wee trip and call Kiera home. She’ll have to marry ye as she’s carryin’ a babe. She’ll ken the two of ye afore ye wed.”
“If Kiera doesna wish to bed with me on her wedding night, I willna force her.”
“I hear what ye say, and I’m pleased, but though she be a widow and may be carrying yer brother’s babe, it willna be a full marriage until her husband consummates it. So dinna fret if ye are locked in there ‘til I ken the deed is done.” He raised his blade in warning. “I’ll keep ye there for weeks if I must. Ye’ll have time to soothe and seduce her.”
Seducing an experienced woman who wanted your brother instead of yourself would be difficult. He’d prefer Kiera be eager and wet for him when she came to his bed. His cock rose to salute the idea. If all went well in a few weeks he’d be sinking into her heat.
He groaned. The way Duff was about to do right now …
Chapter Eight
“Ha! Checkmate!”
Kiera pushed over Duff’s king with her bishop. She rolled to her bare feet and danced exuberantly around the meadow where they’d picnicked. She laughed at Duff staring at the board, still leaning on one elbow in
astonishment. Long, bare legs stretched out from under his thigh-length shirt. She could almost see him counting back the moves, trying to figure out how she’d caught him. His frown was so great his eyebrows touched.
“I canna believe it,” he blurted, staring at the board’s carved wooden pieces. “Beaten by a woman!”
“Not just any woman,” she crowed. She stood in place, wiggling her elbows and hips in joy. She laughed at his shock. “You were beaten by your wife. A woman who shall win many more battles during the months and years ahead.”
She danced in a circle around him. She was not getting her spinning done but knowing their days were limited, she didn’t care. Temporarily limited, she corrected herself, still not looking at him. Duff would have to leave to complete some task but he would be back. She would then bring him to her father and they would go to Kinrowan in time for the harvest. Somewhere in there, between returning to the sheiling and arriving at Castle Leod she would tell him he was laird of Kinrowan. He was perfect. He listened to her ideas, discussing them with her as if she had a mind that worked. Each evening they sat by the fire and talked. He carved spoons and bowls while she spun fleece into thread that she would weave into cloth.
This winter she would do it in her own home, as Lady Kiera of Kinrowan. No more hiding in her chamber to avoid the pity and scorn that was heaped on her head. Pity for being such a shrew no man would have her, and scorn when she hit back with scathing words. She’d found a man, a very good one. He was not only handsome and able, he could make her body thrum with eagerness from just one look.
Hearing him move, she turned to see what he would do. He came to his feet, crossed his arms, and leaned slightly back on his heels.
That was the look. Dangerous, powerful, and threatening. It heated her blood and made her tissues swell.
“Ye may have won this game, wife,” he said with a low, menacing growl, “but ye willna win many battles agin’ me.”
“You admit I will win some?”
“Mayhaps.” One shoulder twitched. “I dinna ken where ye live or the people there. Nor have I lived on a croft. Ye may have good ideas. I am no fool to say I am right just because I am a man.”
Joy bubbled in her chest at his words. A man lacking arrogance was rare in her world. She beamed at him. “You will listen to me?”
“Aye, I will listen to ye when we are alone.” He held up a warning finger. “And I’ll be making the decisions.”
That diminished her joy. “All of them?”
“Until I ken ye better, aye.”
“But I’ve been making my own— “
“Yer father didna teach ye to mind well. Then ye married a fool.” His eyes swept over her, heating her blood. “When was the last time ye obeyed without complaint?”
She tilted her head, considering what to tell him.
“The truth, lass,” he said. “There willna be lies atween us.” His blue eyes sank into her. “There’s things we havena spoken of. We will, in time. But dinna lie. Ever. Nor will I.”
It was a threat, and a promise. She swayed, watching her gown swirl over her toes. A female was supposed to obey her father, husband, brothers, uncles…any male who had power over her. She’d obeyed her laird, eventually. And her father when she agreed with him. Though her father and laird inhabited the same body they were not always in agreement.
“I’m waitin’ for yer answer, wife.”
Her shoulders twitched.
“Speak,” he ordered.
“I canna remember.” She mumbled the words.
“Ye canna remember when ye last obeyed an order without complaining?”
“Just because a man has a cock and balls swinging atween his legs doesna mean—” She cut herself off. What she almost said was blasphemy to many. Grounds for a beating that would leave a woman in pain for weeks.
“Dinna stop. I wish to hear what ye were goin’ to say.”
She couldn’t tell if he was amused or angry. A quick look didn’t help. “A cock doesna give a man sense.”
To her surprise he nodded. “Aye. And a hard cock turns many into fools.” His smile startled her. “But dinna fash yerself. My cock is hard around ye most the time, and I havena let it change me.”
Kiera decided not to mention tugging on her gown to tighten it against her breasts to distract him as she set her trap for his king. She might need the trick another time. She might not be able to tell if he was hard when he wore his plaid, but a thigh-length shirt hid little. Especially when he was anything but little!
“I ken ‘twill take ye a wee bit afore ye are used to a real man.”
“A real man?”
“Aye.” His lip twitched. “Yer father didna show ye the flat of his hand enough. And yer last husband. This one’s different.” He leaned his chest forward to emphasize his words. “Ye will obey me, without complaint. I will win.” His eyes narrowed. “In all things.”
He spoke with complete confidence that she would change how she lived her life just because she’d jumped a stick with him? She’d stood up to a number of men, many of them wishing to marry her dowry. Some potential suitors had backed down because of her father’s power, afraid to have her whisper in his ear. Others threatened to beat her defiance out of her once they wed, thinking she’d have no choice but to agree to their suit. But her father had promised she could choose her husband when she’d gone running to him about Chisholm. It was the only time he’d seen her cry. He would not back down on that.
She threatened men because of her size, her education, and ability to speak her mind well, and because of her father. He was the most powerful man she’d ever met. He had a keen intelligence and, though he had a temper, he rarely acted or made decisions until it had passed. She wanted a man like that. One who was confident enough to look her in the eyes, see what she offered and want to use it, not destroy it.
She wanted a man who saw her exactly as she was, confident with inner strength, and knew she was no threat to him because he was even stronger and more powerful.
She would not know Duff’s true character until he faced her father. If he stood tall and proud, respecting but not fawning she would have found the perfect man. He was already pretty close to perfect. Everything about him challenged her. His calm stare and voice, the way he stood in only a short shirt. The way his cock pointed to her, thick and hard and eager. Her breasts filled, nipples tightening under her thin gown. She wore nothing else, loving the freedom of movement it allowed and how easily it was raised or removed.
Duff had admitted she might win a few battles. Surely that meant he wished to battle more with her in the future, and that he enjoyed it. They had skirmished before but only with words. It would be different today. She needed to know how far she could push him and what he would do.
“I shall win many games of chess.” She raised her chin to look down her nose at him. “You will improve with practice, but so shall I.”
Oh, Lord, that wicked smile did wonderful things to her pussy. He leaned slightly toward her.
“I wasna speaking of chess.”
Kiera opened her mouth to pant, needing more air to feed her racing heart. His eyes moved to her breasts. She glanced down. Twin nipples pointed at him. In return his cock pressed against his shirt, a wet spot at the tip.
“There are other games.” She tried to think. Seeing him there, poised to strike, made her mouth dry and her pussy wet. “Gammon! We could play that as well.”
“Ye might win a few wee games,” he agreed. He sounded far too reasonable for his intense expression. “But ye willna win the battles.”
“Battles?” Her pussy purred. “What battles?”
“The ones that prove I am yer husband. Remove yer gown.”
She inhaled a gasp. Fluid trickled down her upper thigh from her swollen, eager pussy.
“Nay,” she replied. His eyes blazed.
“I warn ye now, wife. Dinna say nay to yer husband. Ye are mine, to do with as I please.”
It was the truth.
A truth she’d railed against all her life. Yet with Duff, it brought not fury but a strange excitement. There was just the two of them here. None could see or hear how they played. For this was a game. A serious game, but one nonetheless.
She’d had to be strong for so long. First, to prove to her brothers she was not a silly lass. She’d met every one of their challenges and she would meet Duff's as well.
So she was his, to do with as he pleased? She tapped her finger on her chin as if thinking. His eyes darkened. A twitch developed in his jaw. What about having him do things to please her? No one had touched her for years until Duff. He’d been eager but careful, as if she was a badly hewn mug that would crack.
She hadn’t realized she’d lived in shadows until Duff had touched her in a way that made her scream. He’d given her release but held himself back. That meant she’d done the same. Could she push him so hard he’d release his inner beast to prove his physical power over her?
“Nay.”
He was moving before she’d opened her mouth. She shrieked, picked up her skirts, and ran. He didn’t. His legs were so long he merely strode after her. She glanced back over her shoulder. It made her shiver. Her nipples tightened, sending a shaft of pleasure to her clit. Where should she run? She knew the trails. She headed uphill, north toward Raven Rock. It was the high point of land, far above Strathpeffer. She might even see Castle Leod from it.
If she wasn’t flat on her back with a very aroused husband plowing her furrow!
Chapter Nine
Kiera dropped her spindle. Again. She looked at the thread she’d wound. A hot flash rose from her belly, one having nothing to do with arousal.
“Look at it!” Her cry filled the clearing. “I've been doing this as long as I can remember but it’s horrid, all thick and thin, as if I am a wee lass just learning!”
Chester gave a whine. She did not let him lean against her as usual. He’d rolled in something and the smell of him made her belly roil. So did the onions she’d planned to add to their stew but couldn’t chop. So did too many things!