Page 28 of Wicked Passions

“Shall we undress you, Isla?” asked Callum politely, but he could not disguise a growing bulge tenting his hose.

“Yes. Oh yes.”

The men set to work, lifting her borrowed shirt over her head, before sending her into a slow spin to remove the tight linen binding her breasts. All the while they stroked and caressed, and by the time her taut nipples were freed from their linen dungeon, Isla panted for breath, already desperate for release.

As promised, Alastair curled her braid around his fingers and tugged until her scalp prickled delightfully. Then his hard, hot lips were upon her, kissing and nipping at the sensitive place where her neck met her shoulder. If that weren’t wondrous enough, Callum leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, back and forth, coaxing her mouth to open for him so he could dart his magical tongue within. Saints alive. Not even her lewd dream had prepared her for the sensation of being pleasured from all sides.

Soon Alastair slid his free hand around her ribs, and cupped her breast. Like an expert baker he gently kneaded the slight curve, before taking her nipple between two fingers and squeezing it to a heady point just below pain.

“Mmmm. More.”

“Suck her nipple, Callum,” rasped Alastair, and Isla shuddered. She couldn’t see him, but his voice in her ear and his big hands on her body were a wicked delight.

She bucked at the first lash of Callum’s tongue, gasping when his hot, avid mouth engulfed the taut peak and sucked it firmly. He attended to both her nipples until they darkened from rosy pink to the color of wine, and even a light puff of air seemed too much.

Just when Isla was about to beg for her throbbing cunt to be eased, the two men led her over to the chaise. She was quickly stripped of the remainder of her clothing, then placed on her hands and knees. With anyone else, such a vulnerable position would be unthinkable. But she trusted Callum and Alastair, for they had both demonstrated they cared about her well-being and comfort. Always offering choices. And that only heightened her desire and affection for them.

Instinctively, she arched her back and parted her thighs. They made her wait until a needy sob tore from her throat, then at last, Alastair’s thick thumb delved into the slick folds of her cunt and wet itself thoroughly before smearing her own honey across the tight hole of her back entrance. Over and over his thumb dipped and smeared, and unable to remain still, Isla rocked to meet it in an attempt to hurry penetration.

Callum laughed as he circled her nipples. “I believe the lady wishes your thumb inside her.”

“I am equally certain she wishes you to stroke her pearl,” said Alastair.

Isla hissed in frustration as she gripped the chaise arm. “The lady wishes you would both stop talking and start pleasuring.”

The slight sting of a punishment swat to her arse made her moan, but that was naught compared to the burning stretch of Alastair’s thumb entering that forbidden hole for the first time. Much like her need to be the conqueror and the conquered, this indescribable sensation was two sides of a coin. Pain and pleasure. Confusing and clarifying. Something her body both welcomed and rejected. Then she couldn’t think at all, as Callum’s hand delved between her legs to cup her mound and rub her aching pearl. Each time he rubbed, Alastair tugged her braid and thrust his thumb shallowly into her arse, and the feeling of restraint, of being surrounded and taken, was her undoing.

An abandoned cry tore from her throat as release hit like a storm-tossed ocean, both lifting her up and overwhelming her completely.

She’d thought she knew ecstasy.

Once again, these men had proven her wrong.

* * *

Much like a diamond, Isla had many sides. The cool-headed swordfighter. The impish mischief maker. The courageous woman navigating the treacherous waters of a world made for wealthy men as best she could. But this day he and Alastair had seen a new one…

The submissive lover.

Callum had greatly enjoyed licking Isla to a screaming release in their previous lesson, and sucking Alastair’s cock in front of her had only heightened his arousal. Neither could compare to this, though: he and his squire working together to pleasure her. The way they had teased her with words, with touch…he’d felt closer to them both. As though they truly could exist as three rather than a forced choice of two.

Callum’s breath caught.

Isla and Alastair in his heart and in his bed? And all delighted to be there?

Even the thought made his cock throb, and he bit back a groan, needing release more than he needed food to sustain him.

On the chaise Isla trembled a little, and they removed their hands from her body. She turned onto her back, and Callum drank in the glorious sight of her flushed skin, swollen nipples, and wet cunt, pleased she did not move to cover herself.

Eventually she blinked at them with dazed eyes. “I think my name is Isla.”

He smiled. “’Tis a pretty name. Rare and precious. Is there a story behind it?”

Isla stretched like a cat and pointed her toes. “No heartfelt tale, I’m afraid. My grandfather was Lord of the Isles, and my family sought to flatter him. A wasted effort, considering the king seized the estates and title when I was nine.”

“I still like it. Almost as much as you soundly conquering Alastair with your sword.”

“Ha,” said his squire. “I am quite certain, my laird, that I could conquer you with my sword.”