He brushed his lips against her back, and Isla shuddered with need. “Please,” she said again. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”
“Brace your hands on Callum’s chest, and take his cock inside your cunt,” Alastair commanded. “Slowly.”
Sitting astride him, Isla took his cock in one hand, fitted the head to her entrance, before easing down upon it. Callum’s fists gripped the quilt, his jaw clenched, but he did not thrust upward and she appreciated his restraint as her body rebelled against a brief stinging pain before adjusting to an overwhelming feeling of fullness. Soon, he was balls-deep inside her.
Bracing her hands on his chest, she rocked a little to find a more comfortable position.
They both gasped.
Well. Little wonder those in power wished to restrict this act. Hard cock moving in wet cunt felt very good indeed. Then Alastair’s oiled fingers pushed into her arse once more, and Isla shuddered at the jolt of hot, tingling sensation that arrowed between her legs.
“I’m going to enter you with my cock now,” said Alastair gruffly. “If it is too much, just say.”
Isla nodded. “I will.”
She bit her lip as Alastair’s cock pressed against her tight hole, a whimper of discomfort escaping as he pushed the engorged head inside her. But Callum distracted her by pinching her nipples, and that sharp edge of pain seemed to lessen the burning stretch as Alastair’s thick length penetrated her arse inch by inch.
“God’s blood, Alastair,” said Callum, moaning. “I can feel your cock nearly rubbing against mine.”
Isla sobbed. “So…full…”
Alastair kissed her neck. “You’re doing beautifully. Just a little more. There now.”
Panting, Isla balanced on a blade of pleasure and pain. Yet her men didn’t thrust, just held themselves deep inside her cunt and arse as they kissed her, tweaked her taut nipples, pressed her pearl with a thumb. Eventually her breathing slowed, the rigidness left her limbs, and she circled her hips a little.
Oh. That felt good.
Even better, Callum and Alastair both gasped.
Isla smiled. Much like she’d still held power on her knees sucking two cocks, she still held power with those same cocks buried deep inside her. She did not lose herself in any way, only gained pleasure.
Again and again she circled her hips, and as she moved more freely, her men began to gently thrust. Sometimes one then the other, sometimes together, and she could feel a wild storm gather low in her belly as the promise of an explosive release teased at her senses.
“More,” she begged. “Faster.”
Callum gripped her inner thighs as his thumb teased her pearl, Alastair curled one arm around her so he could cup her breast and pinch her nipple, and both began to fuck her hard. The storm built and built, and she cried out, needing release more than her next breath. Her men thrust deeply, once, twice, and at last the wave crashed over her, rough and overwhelming and perfect, and she screamed in bliss. Moments later, the low, raw sounds of her husbands’ ecstasy echoed in the chamber, and her cunt and arse were filled to overflowing with hot seed.
Carefully, Alastair and Callum withdrew from her body, and they lay on the bed embracing, still shaking and struggling to catch their breath.
“Saints alive,” said Isla weakly. “That was…that was…”
They merely held her closer. Indeed, no words were necessary.
She had found her forever.
Loch Etive, Western Highlands
Callum tapped his heels on his horse’s flanks, urging the stallion on. They were only a few miles from Glennoe Castle now, and as the familiar scents of mountain and loch soothed his senses, his yearning for home grew even stronger. Not to mention a yearning to show his new wife, the warrior lady in shirt and hose with her arms wrapped about his waist and her cheek resting on his back, the castle and lands where she would reign alongside him and Alastair.
This was the moment he had waited so long for. The start of a glorious new chapter in the manuscript of his life, with his wife and the husband of his heart by his side. There would be difficulties, he well knew that. And he would probably never be able to be as affectionate in public with Alastair as he would like. But the people of his clan would soon learn that their laird, lady, and squire, stood together as three. A love that had been forged in the fire of a royal tourney would not be torn asunder by anyone.
When they reached the ridge about a mile from the castle, Callum pulled up his horse and gestured down. “There, Isla. Glennoe.”
She sucked in a breath. “It’s beautiful. So peaceful and unspoiled. I see fishing boats, but do you swim in the loch as well?”
Alastair laughed as he brought his mount to a halt beside them. “Aye, when we are feeling adventurous. It’s a sea loch, so very cold and very deep in places. But plenty of fish, and game in the hills. You’ll never be hungry.”
“And so many people! Look, all gathering near the castle.”
His heart pounding, Callum exchanged a grim glance with Alastair. God’s blood, not today. Had Red sent a raiding party? Had the Campbells? It seemed a terribly rash action when in his saddlebag was a copy of the king’s decree and his alliance with the Sutherlands, but there wasn’t a moment in Scottish history where something being rash had halted action. Sure, he had gained six trained men at arms as part of Isla’s dowry, but they followed behind with the wagon carrying Isla’s trunks, her beloved servants Morag and Leith, and the gift of cloth from the king. More Sutherland men would be sent to help guard his lands, but they would not arrive from the north for a month, at least.
If anyone had harmed his mother…he would show them no mercy. The days of being crushed under the weight of fear, past shadows and expectations, and lack of belief in himself were over. He was worthy. He did have skill. And each day he would only be bolstered by Alastair and Isla’s loving care.
Callum clicked his tongue, and his horse cantered forward, well used to this path that led down to the castle.
“You are tense, husband. Do I need to unsheathe my sword?” asked Isla in his ear.
“Maybe,” he admitted. “I know not why people in the clan have gathered, unless there has been trouble. Before we left for Stirling, my weaving house was razed to the ground in a raid. Both Red and the Campbells have long wanted these fertile lands for themselves.”
“I am ready to fight,” she said fiercely. “No one shall threaten my laird’s home or lands. Especially not a wretched MacDonald. And your clan—”
“Our clan.”
“Our clan will learn to value all skills. Warrior and scholar, protector and healer.”
“That is what I needed to hear,” Callum replied. “It strengthens me no end to know I have yours and Alastair’s love. We three shall achieve great things.”
As they neared the castle gate, he and Alastair both eased their horses into a trot. Then the applauding began. And the loud cheers. Women waved ribbons and linen cloths, their faces wreathed in smiles, and men stopped work to raise a triumphant fist.
“Welcome home, laird,” called one silver-haired man as he stepped out of his hut. “’Tis a grand day to be a MacIntyre!”
“Hail our laird,” yelled a young lad from the shore of the loch as he tugged a small fishing boat behind him. “The man who defeated all comers, including the MacDonald. Cruachan!”