by Tia Isabella
Thomas stretched out onto the bed on his back next to his wife and placed his hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling.
Maya gulped. She had originally planned to wait the full six weeks before she resumed having sex with her husband again, yet she couldn’t stop the fluttering in her belly that the sight of his thickly erect penis caused. “Thomas,” she whispered.
He craned his head towards her, smiling knowingly when he caught her ogling his body. “Aye?”
Maya crawled to her husband’s side of the bed, propped her body up on one elbow, and stared down at him. She splayed her free hand across his chest, feeling the sexy black hair beneath her fingertips.
Thomas sucked in his breath, his nipples pricking into tiny points. His muscles corded tensely, excitement reeling through his very fiber. He relished every moment of his wife’s touch, it having been far too long since she’d explored his willing body, to his way of thinking. His shaft swelled painfully rigid.
Maya grew bolder, visibly and innately aware of her husband’s hunger, as well as her own. She reached between his legs and drew his jutting cock into her hand. She stroked up and down, her touching eliciting familiar groans of pleasure from him. “Maya, my love, I canna survive this,” he admitted in a hoarse voice. “If ye canna finish, dinna begin.”
Maya continued stroking her husband’s flesh as she bent her head to draw one of his nipples into her mouth. Thomas growled, unable to bear the torture much longer.
She became more insistent in her petting, finally replacing the hand at her husband’s shaft with her mouth. She took the head of his manhood in between her lips, then half swallowed him in one long suck downward. Thomas gripped the back of her head, his breath turning ragged and shallow. Maya suckled up and down the length of him, over and over again, the salty taste of his pre-cum on her tongue.
Thomas could withstand no more. He forced his wife’s mouth from his shaft and flipped her over onto her back. He kissed her roughly on the lips, devouring her mouth with his own while he reached between her legs to stroke her flesh into readiness.
She was already soaking wet. He had to have her—now.
Thomas settled his muscled body between his wife’s thighs and gently probed at the outer recesses of her opening with his arousal, slowly inching his way inside. Maya moaned louder, oblivious to anything except the pleasure she knew was about to follow.
He grabbed his wife’s face, forcing her to meet his gaze. He looked into her eyes, wanting to see her reaction when he took her. It had been so long. Far too long.
Thomas thrust his shaft into his wife’s awaiting body in one powerful stroke. She gasped, nature having tightened her womanhood after the birth of their children. It was almost like losing her virginity again. Only this pain didn’t last as long.
Thomas stilled, sweat pouring off his brow. “Let me know when I can move in ye, my love. Let me know when yer body remembers mine.”
Maya reached up and pulled her husband’s face down to cover her own. She kissed him possessively and passionately on the lips, then released him and grabbed at his buttocks, kneading them with her fingers. “Take me now, Thomas,” she pleaded.
“Maya,” he growled as he surged inside her tight opening again.
He rode her endless moments, his brow knitted as he pumped in and out of her body. Rotating his hips, he elicited a deep moan of approval from his wife as he thrust in and out of her in more rapid movements.
He continued to ride her, fighting off his own release, until he felt the familiar pulsing of her flesh around his manhood. Thomas threw his head back and groaned, spilling his seed deeply inside of her.
He stilled atop his wife, breathing deeply. After two long fortnights, he was finally replete. He rolled off of her and onto his back, drawing Maya down to lay in the fold of his muscled arm. He smoothed her sweat-soaked hair behind her ears and smiled. “I thought ye dinna want me on yer side of the bed fer many years tae come,” he teased.
Maya jerked her head off of his chest and met his gaze. She grinned. “That’s why we did it on your side.”
Thomas laughed, spanking her playfully on the bottom in the process. “I ha’ a feeling that I will be bringing ye tae my side of the bed many more times this night, Maya mine.”
“Promise?”
“Promise? My love, I vow it.”
Chapter 36
Robert MacAllister bent down and scratched his head as he surveyed his handiwork. It had taken him months to find a villein that matched him in hair color and body size, but the deed was finally done. Too bad he had to kill the commoner, but there was no help of it.
Robert smiled. He truly was all things brilliant and worthy. He had ravished the dead man’s body so perversely with an animal’s tusk he’d procured that it appeared as though a wild boar had ripped Robert MacAllister to pieces. Only it wasn’t the MacAllister who was laying dead on the ground. ‘Twas the commoner, wearing Robert’s clothes.
Robert stood up and headed for the cover of the trees, feeling every inch the cunning strategist. He scratched his chest, the villein’s coarse wool clothing making his body itch as badly as his lice infested scalp did.
It mattered not. Robert was in far too fine of a mood to worry over the trivial. The MacGregor men would find the MacAllister’s alleged body any day now. Then the MacGregor would relax his guard. And the bitch would be his.
The MacAllister would best the MacGregor—again. ‘Twas enough to make him laugh in delight.
Chapter 37
Angus and Elizabeth MacGregor sat on their papa’s lap by the hearth in the great hall and smiled adoringly up at him. Each of the children rode astride one of their father’s powerful thighs and beamed with the delight that only four-month-old babes can as Thomas jiggled them back and forth on his legs in a game of horsy.
“’Tis a fine destrier ye are riding, my son.” Thomas made neighing warhorse sounds as he rocked his heir back and forth. Angus grinned at his papa, his dark hair and eyes the spitting image of his father’s. “And fer ye my Lady Beth, a tamed palfrey.” Elizabeth’s tri-colored light eyes shown brightly as she giggled, her shiny blonde curls bouncing in time with her father’s knee.
Thomas glanced over to his wife and smiled, watching her as she and Lady Sara barked orders to the men hanging up the ornaments Hamish had built for the decoration of the Christmas pine tree. The stockings the ladies had sewn together had already been hung over the hearth, so all that was left to finish was the tree.
Hamish stood near Lady Maya, grimacing each time it looked as though a MacGregor soldier wasn’t being as careful with the glass creations he’d fashioned as they should have been. Maya read the worry writ across the craftsman’s face and chastised the men immediately. “Gilfred and Argyle, be careful please. Hamish worked day and night on those pieces. Christmas is only three days away, so we’ve no time to replace them.”
Argyle looked down at his mistress and frowned. “My lady, ‘tis fretfully high up here. I’m doin’ the best I can do whilst still keeping my wits aboot me.”
Maya grinned up to him. “Is the brave, ferocious knight afraid of big, mean heights?”
“Aye, dreadfully so, and I am no’ tae proud tae admit tae the likes of it.”
Maya and Sara laughed. Hamish shook his head and chuckled.
“Argyle!” Thomas bellowed from the other side of the hall, “Take yer womanly arse down from there and come hold my bairns. I will see tae the ornaments myself.”
Argyle blushed, but readily complied. He rushed to the laird’s side and scooped Angus and Beth from their father’s lap. “Yer devoted cousin Argyle will make fer a better horsy than yer da’ could ever hope tae be.”
Thomas grunted his disagreement, then strode toward the tree.
Dugald strolled into the great hall a moment later. He stopped by the hearth first and tickled the babes sitting atop Argyle’s lap under their chins. Satisfied he’d made them happy, he strolled over to his wife and kissed the back of her neck.
Sara whirled around. “You startled me!” she laughed, kissing him back.
“I would never try tae scare the mother of my bairn.”
She smiled and patted her belly. She threw her glance in the direction of Maya’s children and waxed sentimental. “Aren’t you excited? We’re going to be parents in another couple of months!”
“I know, sweeting.” Dugald kissed his wife’s hand and smiled. “Still, I wish we would ha’ wed afore ye conceived rather than after. It gives the gossips less fat tae chew on.”
Sara shrugged. “I don’t care what they say.”
Dugald grinned. “Neither do I.”
Lady Lena ambled into the great hall next, running excitedly up to Maya’s side. “Well, milady, I can finally say that all is done. Cook has hired on enough help in yon village tae prepare a lavish feast. The villagers will be sorely impressed.”
Maya grinned, clapping her hands together in excitement. “Thank-you for taking care of it, Lena. I knew I could count on you…as always.”
Lena blushed at the compliment. “’Twas nothing.”
“Do no’ sell yer hard work short, wife,” Argyle scolded as he walked toward Lena and Maya. “I am verra proud of how well ye ha’ brought everything together.”
Lena beamed a delighted smile up to her husband, plucking Elizabeth from his arms in the process.
Maya nodded her head in agreement. “Argyle is right. You are a true treasure, Lena.” She smiled to her children, both vastly contented in Sir Argyle and Lady Lena’s arms. She cooed and clucked her tongue, patted each of them on the head affectionately, then returned to her job as Christmas tree decoration overseer.
“A little higher, Thomas. I want the angle of it to be perfect so the sunlight reflects off of it when it streams in.”
Thomas nodded and raised the ornament higher.
“More to the right.”
Thomas moved it to the right.
Maya inspected his hanging job with a frown, cocking her head in indecision. “Perhaps it was better where it was. What do you think, Hamish?”
Hamish cleared his throat, grinning at the look of exasperation on the laird’s face. “Hmm,” he contemplated with a thoughtful scratch to his beard, “I like it where it is.”
Maya nodded, deciding the craftsman was right. “Fine. Thomas, you may proceed to the next ornament.”
Thomas glared at his harridan of a wife. “Oh may I, Lady Maya? I canna thank ye enough,” he said sarcastically.
Sara grinned as she walked over to Maya and playfully thumped her on the arm. “At this rate, it will be Christmas day before Thomas finishes.”
The MacGregor snorted his agreement. “Alas, the voice of reason.”
Just then Sir Harold and Lord Reginald swaggered into the great hall, both of them sweaty from their swordplay. “Ah look,” Maya teased, “here comes Beavis and Butthead now.”
Argyle and Sara’s laughter caused Harold and Reginald to frown. Harold placed his hands on his hips and glowered. “I can tell ye which of us is Butthead and ‘tis no’ me.”
“Now see here,” Reginald quipped, “if anyone is Butthead it is definitely you. I’m a much finer Beavis.”
“Ha!” Harold countered, a word of challenge he’d picked up from Lady Maya.
Reginald rolled his eyes. “You’re just sore at me because I finally bested you.”
“Ye bested the Sotted?” Argyle asked, a twinkle in his eye.
“That’s right, kid, I most certainly did,” Reginald boasted.
Harold harrumphed. “Me body was still tired from the fine lovin’ I gave tae me lady last eve.”
Reginald rolled his eyes, a common occurrence for him when conversing with Harold. “If I were your lady the only thing fine I’d find about your lovin’ is its absence.”
“I am rubber, ye are glue—”
“Boys!” Maya shouted as she raised a silencing hand. “Enough.”
Reginald and Harold grunted, but quit squabbling. “So,” Reginald grumbled as he waved a hand absently through the air, “what is the medieval Brady Bunch up to today?”
Sara waddled over to her father and kissed his coarse cheek. “What does it look like?”
“Decorating for Christmas?”
“Aye,” Thomas offered as he hung another ornament onto the branch of the pine. “My shrew of a wife is ordering me aboot like a serving wench.”
Maya snorted her disagreement.
“I better ha’ many fine presents from ye under yon tree, love.”
“Keep insulting me,” Maya warned with a sweetly false smile plastered on her lips, “and I can tell you one present you definitely won’t get this Christmas, or any other night in our bedchamber for that matter.”
The hooting and howling of laughter echoed throughout the great hall. Thomas grinned wickedly at his wife. “With yer demandin’ appetite? I willna worry o’er much aboot it.”
The guffaws grew louder.
Maya opened up her mouth to express another wry sentiment then snapped her jaws shut. She frowned up at her husband, unable to think of a single smart-ass thing to say in retaliation. Damn, he’d won this round!
Thomas winked at his wife, knowing exactly what she was thinking.
* * * * *
The MacGregor Christmas feast was a smashing success. The villagers took turns wandering in and out of the keep, each of them eating to their heart’s content. Maya introduced Hamish the Craftsman to Hamish the Herder, still bemused by the fact that the men bore the same name. Neither of them seemed as riveted by the knowledge as Maya was, but they became fast friends nonetheless, delighting her to no end.
“Are you certain you have to leave already?” Maya asked, turning to her new friends.
“Aye, milady,” Sir Stephen supplied. “I am truly sorry, yet is my Margaret’s da’ feelin’ ill. We told him we’d bring a trencher of food tae him, if ye dinna mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind!” Maya beamed. “Take as much as you like. And Margaret, please promise me you’ll bring your adorable children back to play with Angus and Beth very soon.”
“I promise,” Margaret smiled, blushing prettily. “And we canna thank ye enough fer all yer kindness, milady.”
Maya laughed as she turned to Stephen. “How many trips to the keep will it take before she addresses me by name and kills the ‘milady’ stuff?”
Stephen grinned. “I’m thinkin’ on her next visit.”
An hour later, Sara joined Maya in the great hall, tapping her on the back to gain her attention. Maya whirled around and threw a smile her best friend’s way. “Is everything okay?”
Sara nodded her head emphatically. “I’m having a great time, though Dugald is anxious to see it end.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “He’s excited about opening his gifts. He can’t wait to open up the presents in his stocking after the villagers leave and it’s only the family remaining here.”
Maya grinned. “What a baby.”
Sara laughed. “Tell me about it.”
“Maya!”
Thomas boomed out her name as he strode across the hall. “Come here, love.”
She turned on her heel and smiled over to her husband. She hadn’t spent any time alone with him in hours.
Thomas and Dugald were standing together with a third man and a woman between them. “Who is that?” Sara whispered in wide-eyed awe.
“I don’t know,” Maya exclaimed breathlessly.
The stranger standing between their husbands was the most beautiful man either of them had ever laid eyes upon. Dark hair, blue eyes, and as tall and strapping as Thomas and Dugald. Neither of them was interested in him, of course, but a woman would be blind not to take a gander…or two.
The woman who stood with the stranger was passing pretty, not a great beauty, but it was easy to see why the man at her side was drawn to her. She was as busty as a Penthouse Pet and judging from her low neckline, was also quite proud of that fact. She carried herself
well, able to play up her attributes.
Maya and Sara halted their perusal of the woman and returned their attentions to the man at her side. Wow! What a hunk!
Thomas and Dugald frowned, both of them realizing that their wives were giving the Hamilton the once over. The laird smiled down to Maya and Sara, oblivious to the scowls his friends were accosting him with. “My ladies,” he grinned, “’tis an honor tae finally meet ye both. I ha’ heard much aboot ye from Sir Dugald and the MacGregor.”
Maya snapped out of her perusal of the stranger and sauntered up to his side.
“Ye must be the fair Lady Maya,” the Hamilton beamed. He drew her hand to his lips for a kiss. “Thomas surely did no’ exaggerate yer comeliness. In fact, his words did no’ do ye justice.”
Maya blushed, deciding she liked the man already.
Thomas grunted, frowning at the Hamilton’s finesse.
“And ye must be the fair Lady Sara,” he smiled. “I vow, ye are also as lovely as Sir Dugald boasted.” He drew Sara’s hand to his lips, kissing it briefly.
She sighed in delight.
Dugald scowled.
“Patrick,” the woman at his side purred. “Aren’t ye goin’ tae introduce me tae the MacGregor’s wife?”
The woman had an unsettlingly wicked gleam in her eye that Maya saw right through. Maya glanced toward her husband suspiciously only to see that he was shifting back and forth on his feet and not meeting her gaze.
“This is Meg,” the Hamilton shrugged, oblivious to Maya’s narrowing eyes.
“Your wife?” she asked icily, praying it was so.
“Nay,” Meg answered, smiling mischievously down to her. “I’m his lady friend.” Meg turned her attention toward the MacGregor. “Are ye no goin’ tae welcome me, Thomas? It has been far tae long since we ha’,”—she paused meaningfully—“made each other’s acquaintance.”
Thomas braved a quick look his wife’s way. He didn’t care to become the brunt of the anger he saw brewing there. He smiled half-heartedly down to Meg and inclined his head. “Of course, ‘tis good tae see ye, Meg.”