His Headstrong Bride, page 12
Just as she went limp in his arms, the warmth of his lips disappeared. She found herself being lifted onto the edge of the table. The punished flesh of her bottom smarted as it hit the hard surface, but the pain was soon forgotten. The rough urgency of Iain’s movements as he dragged up her skirts sent a thrill rippling through her. She gasped loudly as he opened her thighs wide and pushed her back, so she was lying spread out for him. Her legs dangled over the edge of the table and she felt open, exposed, yet safe in Iain’s hands. She rocked her hips as his fingers were thrust between her legs, testing her readiness.
“So wet,” he murmured in apparent approval.
“For you, always.”
Margaret boldly met his eye. She wasn’t sure what it was but something about Iain made her braver than she’d ever been before. Her eyes widened as he grinned at her and suddenly dropped to his knees between her legs, so his face was mere inches from her most intimate parts. She shivered with delight as his warm breath drifted over her moistened flesh.
“Such a pretty wee pussy,” Iain said. “Has any man feasted on it before?”
“No.” Margaret’s reply came out on a squeak that made Iain chuckle in response.
“I’ll be the first then.”
Margaret bit her bottom lip, the anticipation unbearable as she waited for him to move. He put his hands on her thighs to hold them open and then, suddenly, his tongue was right there where she longed for it to be. With an agonizingly slow stroke, his tongue trailed along her feminine slit. The sensation was like nothing she’d felt before. She tried to lift her hips, but Iain held her down. She gasped in delight as his tongue slowly circled her clitoris. Tiny sparks of desire tingled through her flesh. As he thrust his tongue inside her, Margaret arched her back and cried out in ecstasy.
Her body spasmed as he took his hand from her leg and squeezed her clitoris between his fingers. Fucking her slowly with his tongue, he pinched her feminine bud so hard she saw spots floating before her eyes. She was almost there but still the pleasure seemed just out of reach. A whimper escaped her as she rocked her hips. Then Iain curled his tongue inside her, hitting a spot she never knew existed. Margaret shrieked as intense pleasure gripped her entire body. She convulsed helplessly as Iain rose to his feet.
As her orgasm slowly died down, Iain pulled her up, spun her around, and pushed her back down over the table. He kicked her feet to spread her legs wide. She felt the head of his cock gliding through her wetness. She looked back over her shoulder and the almost vicious curl of his lips warned her that she should brace herself for a thorough fucking.
“Grab the edge of the table,” Iain instructed.
“Yes, my lord.”
Margaret raised her hands over her head and held on. With a single, brutal thrust, he embedded himself deep inside her.
“Such a perfect wee pussy.” Iain’s voice was strained but she could hear the hint of praise it contained. “A perfect fit.”
He slowly dragged his cock out of her and then slammed back inside. Winding her braided hair tight around his fist, he pulled her head back sharply, making her breath hitch. In this position, her arms were stretched tight, almost painfully so, and she let go of the edge of the table.
“Uh-uh, put your hands back,” Iain told her.
The command in his voice made Margaret quiver with desire. Immediately, she returned her hands to where they’d been and grasped the edge of the table once more. As Iain pounded into her warm, wet pussy, she felt her breasts rubbing against the wooden surface beneath her and her nipples were pulled up into tight little peaks. Driving inside her at a relentless pace, Iain reached his climax quickly. She felt his cock pulse and swell within her and then a warmth flooding her channel as he came deep inside her. As he withdrew from her, she felt his seed trickling down her thigh.
Iain pulled her upright and turned her to face him. He reached out and ran his hand down her cheek with a tenderness that almost brought a tear to her eye.
“Now, my lady,” he said, mimicking the tone she had used on him that night at Inverallan Abbey. “I believe it is your move.”
Chapter Thirteen
Iain sheathed his dagger and allowed Margaret to lead him from the Great Hall. He had offered her free rein to do with him as she pleased, but sudden shyness had overcome her when she realized that anyone might have walked in on them when he was fucking her. She insisted that they go somewhere more private, so he’d reluctantly agreed that they could return to the bedchamber. He feared that by the time they reached their own room, the moment would be lost, that the desire between them would have dampened down. As Margaret looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her deep blue eyes, however, he knew that his worries were unfounded. She still wanted him, desperately.
They entered the bedchamber and Margaret released his hand. Moving to stand in front of him, she looked around the room, obviously uncertain about what to do next.
“I am yours to command, my lady,” he said, spreading his arms wide and giving a courteous bow.
He could almost hear the thoughts churning through her mind as she swallowed hard. As her eyes lit up suddenly, he wondered what she’d decided to ask him to do.
“Remove your clothing.”
“My lady,” he acknowledged her request with a grin.
As he began to unbuckle his belt, she laid her hand gently on top of his.
“Slowly, my lord.”
There was something about the way she addressed him as my lord that made his cock sit up and take notice. He grinned as he drew the leather of his belt through the metal buckle. He placed his sheathed dagger on the nearest table before dropping the belt to the floor. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on Margaret’s; watching as her pupils dilated, betraying the depth of her desire, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and drew it slowly up over his head to gradually reveal his masculine torso for her appraisal. He was muscular, and his skin was marked with the evidence of his life as a warrior. Some women liked his battle scars and the sharp intake of breath from his wife each time she saw them told him that she appreciated the way he looked. The flush in her cheeks told him that she was turned on by his strength. She liked his dominant nature but was willing to stand up to him when he behaved like an ass which, he had to admit, he had done tonight. He found that he wanted that fiery side of her far more than he would have thought.
“Stop daydreaming,” Margaret scolded playfully. “I want to see every inch of you.”
“As you command, my lady.”
Iain kicked off his boots, letting them fly across the room. Then he removed his hosen and braies. As he stood before her, completely naked, he felt the blood rushing to his shaft. Margaret’s eyes roamed hungrily over him, seeming to savor each part of him. He clenched his fists as he fought the urge to throw her onto the bed and fuck her senseless. He had offered her the chance to take charge and, for now, he would allow her to lead.
“Now, undress me,” Margaret said with a shy smile as she turned her back to him, so he could undo the dozens of hooks and eyes that held her dress together.
Iain reached out and began to fiddle with the top fastening. His hands, more used to grasping a sword, were too big and clumsy for such a delicate task and it took him several long seconds to undo the hook. He had no intention of standing there all night, struggling to free her from her gown. Spinning her around, he reached for his knife. Margaret’s eyes widened in alarm and then she relaxed. The trust she displayed in him as he brought the knife closer to her body humbled him. As he slid the sharp blade beneath the fabric of her dress, she did not flinch. Nor did she question him as he began to draw the knife downward, slicing through layers of silk and the finest linen as he cut her dress and leine open to reveal her beautiful, flawless body.
He watched as she wriggled to free her arms from the sleeves and let what remained of her tattered garments fall to the floor.
“I hope that was not a favorite dress.”
“It was,” Margaret replied, “but not of mine. The dress belongs... belonged to Ailis.”
Iain knew he should feel bad about that, but he really didn’t. His brother could buy his wife a dozen new dresses to make up for it.
“Then I have no regrets about destroying it.”
Margaret shook her head in mock disapproval.
“Perhaps I should give you a spanking,” she said.
“You could try,” Iain warned, “but it would not end well for you.”
There was only so much he was prepared to allow. He would let her play at being in charge for as long as it amused him but there could be no doubt that the control was his to take back whenever he chose.
“Well, in that case, I want you to go and sit at the edge of the bed,” she instructed.
Iain did as she asked. Once he was seated, she walked to him, her hips swaying seductively, and sank to her knees at his feet. His cock twitched as she leaned forward and inhaled his scent. With great difficulty, he held himself still as she ran her hand almost reverently along his rigid shaft before taking it into her mouth. She drew him deep and then slowly pulled back, letting her tongue slide over his soft, velvety skin. He groaned as she dipped her tongue into the slit at the head of his cock and lapped up a drop of pre-cum. She sucked enthusiastically on his flesh, her own arousal apparent in the humming sounds that sent vibrations rippling through his entire body. She was taking her time, torturing him with slow, seductive strokes along the length of his cock. As he fought the urge to grab the back of her head and take control of her movements, she suddenly released him from her mouth. Flashing him a flirtatious grin, she got to her feet.
Climbing up onto the bed, she straddled his hips and wound her arms around his neck. She kissed him with a ferocity that took him by surprise and then drew back to meet his gaze. There was longing in her eyes like he had never seen before and for a moment he was unnerved by it. He forgot all about the strange feeling her obvious need sparked in him as she raised herself up. Shifting her hips, she positioned herself and sank down onto his rock-hard length, slowly taking every inch of him deep into her soft, warm body. Their eyes remained locked as she began to move.
“Touch me,” she urged as her breathing became heavier. “Kiss my breasts.”
He did not have to be asked twice. As he sucked the taut, rosy peak of her breast into his mouth, Iain slid a hand down between their bodies and found the throbbing bud of her clitoris. He rubbed it gently with his fingers, teasing her mercilessly as he lapped at her nipple with his tongue. He felt her clench around him and knew that she was close. Biting down softly on the swell of her beautifully rounded breast, he sent her over the edge. She bucked against him, her pussy clamping down on him as she rode out her climax.
Wrung out by her orgasm, she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. With care, he lifted her off his still erect cock. Then he tossed her onto the bed. The sleepy look in her eye told him she was growing tired, but he was not finished with her quite yet.
“On your hands and knees, lass,” he said with an unmistakable note of command. “It is time I claimed your bonny wee arse.”
* * *
Margaret felt a frisson of fear as Iain came up onto the bed behind her. She’d done as he asked and got onto all fours, but then he’d gone to retrieve something from his bag. His momentary absence from the bed had given her just enough time to start to feel nervous about what he planned to do. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that he had the same small vial of oil he’d used on her before. He opened the bottle and poured some of the oil onto the palm of his hand and stroked his erect cock a couple of times, coating it in the glistening liquid. Then he dribbled a little of the lubricant into the space between her bottom cheeks. It was cold, and she clenched her buttocks, releasing them when Iain gave her thigh a quick warning swat with his palm. She stayed as still as she could as he rubbed the oil over her puckered hole.
As Iain positioned himself behind her, Margaret’s entire body stiffened.
“Remember to breathe,” he instructed, and she realized that she was, indeed, holding her breath. “This will go easier if you try not to fight it.”
“I will do my best, my lord.”
Grunting in approval, Iain took a firm hold of her hip as he guided himself forward. The taut muscles refused to yield at first, but eventually they gave in to the persistent pressure and, helped by the lubricant, Iain inched inside her. She could tell he was being careful not to hurt her but still Margaret whimpered as she was stretched uncomfortably wide. Iain was much larger than the leather phallus he’d put in her bottom the night before. She had barely adjusted to the initial penetration before he thrust a little harder to seat himself fully within her tight channel.
Panting as she tried to catch her breath, Margaret clutched at the bedcover.
“Are you alright, lass?” Iain asked.
Was she alright? Margaret really wasn’t sure. She was in some discomfort, but it was not as bad as she’d imagined it would be. This was something she needed to do for Iain, to show him that she was willing to give him what he wanted. She had managed to cope with having her bottom filled by a cold, impersonal object so, surely, she could enjoy the sensation of her husband’s cock being embedded deep within her rear channel. Breathing deeply as his hand rubbed over her lower back, she found the tension in her body melting away.
“I am fine,” she said resolutely.
As soon as he heard those words of confirmation, Iain began to fuck her with a gentle reverence. He eased her shoulders down until her head rested on the mattress while her bottom remained high in the air and made sounds of approval that warmed her to the core. Margaret groaned as he started to thrust his hips with increasing vigor. Pain and pleasure mingled to become a confusing blur of sensation. Her insides ached but there was also a delicious pressure building up and, spurred on by Iain’s groans of ecstasy, she felt her pussy growing wet with desire.
“Your arse feels so good,” Iain ground out. “It was made for fucking.”
Emboldened by the undeniable need in his voice, Margaret pushed back against him as he drove deep inside her. He rewarded her enthusiasm with a slap on the buttocks that made her writhe and moan beneath him. As the second smack radiated warmth across her delicate skin, she thought she would burst with pleasure. It was not like being spanked for punishment. When his palm connected with her flesh, she felt a quiver of delight shoot straight to her center. As Iain slid his hand around to her front and cupped her mound tightly, she rocked her hips back. He pushed two fingers up into her hot, wet cunt and she shrieked with agonized bliss.
The feeling of fullness was overwhelming. As Margaret’s body shook with pleasure, Iain’s movements became more erratic. He pulled out of her and, a moment later, she felt a hot spurt splattering across her back as he spilled his seed onto her flesh. Together, they collapsed in a trembling heap on the bed.
Recovering first, Iain wrapped his hand around hers and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
“Are you well satisfied, my lord?” Margaret asked as she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow, so she could look down at him.
“Aye, and you?”
“I am content, sir.”
Laying her head on his chest, Margaret realized that she meant what she’d said. Being there, next to Iain, she felt happier than she had in a very long time.
“So, all is well between us?” Iain checked.
Margaret gave a little smile. She knew Iain would not talk about why he had killed that man or what had made him sink into a sullen mood today. She had no intention of questioning him about it either. A man like Iain would not dissect his thoughts and feelings with her and she would have to be satisfied with simply being with him. But he seemed to need some assurance that the issues that had arisen between them over the past day were forgotten.
“Aye, my lord, all is well.”
Iain said nothing more but wrapped his arm tightly around Margaret and held her to him. Closing her eyes as he pulled a thick velvet bedcover over them, she drifted off into a contented sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
As she crossed the courtyard and made her way down the hill toward the heavily fortified gate that barred unwanted visitors from entering the castle enclosure, Margaret was beginning to think that her husband had vanished into thin air. Nobody seemed to know where he was. It had not surprised her when she woke alone this morning, as Iain was an early riser, but she was disappointed that he hadn’t roused her, if only to bid her a good day. It would have been nice to know that he cared and for him to share what his plans for the day were, so she would not end up sitting around waiting aimlessly for him to come to her.
Of course, she couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t tried to wake her. Thoroughly exhausted after the passionate exertions she and Iain had enjoyed the night before, she’d been pretty much dead to the world. When she had eventually woke, it had been as a maid, sent by Ailis to help her ready herself for the day, arrived at her door. The maid had brought with her two male servants who carried between them a large trunk full of clothes that Ailis had thoughtfully provided. Margaret wondered if her sister-in-law would have been so generous if she’d known what happened to the beautiful red gown she’d given her the night before. It had been left lying in tatters on the floor of the bedchamber. Margaret had examined it this morning in the hopes it might be mended, but Iain had done too thorough a job of destroying it. Remembering how he’d cut the clothes from her in his impatience to have her naked brought a blush to her cheek.
After feeling such an incredible sense of closeness with Iain last night, it had been even more upsetting to find herself alone this morning. It was not the first time she’d had the experience of wondering where he’d gone and whether he would come to her, of course. The morning after their marriage had seen her in a similar situation. The difference was that where Stirling had been unfamiliar to her, she knew her way around Castle Donnell, was quite at home here, so she’d decided to look for him. As yet, she’d had no success in tracking him down.
