Page 38 of Wicked Passions

“You need release?”

“At once,” she replied, spreading her thighs a little.

Alastair shook his head before walking to the chaise to sheath his sword, Callum right behind him to do the same. “Alas, you must wait.”

“Wait?” Isla stared at him in shock, and Alastair almost smiled. Indeed, a lady well used to servants obeying her commands. But this night, if she wished for pleasure, she would have to earn it. She had taught them skills in sword fighting. Now it was his turn to teach her about pleasing a man. Or this night…pleasing men.

“Indeed. You have been the master, but now you must be the student. Callum and I will both attend to your needs…after you learn how to suck our cocks.”

Isla quivered. “I suppose you’ll ask me to be naked for this lesson. So you might spend your seed over my breasts and rub it into my nipples. And spank me for misbehavior.”

So that was what the naughty lass wanted, was it?

“Not ask,” Alastair growled. “Insist. And yes, you well know the punishment for impatience.”

She sucked in a breath and sauntered toward them, kicking off her shoes, before halting beside the chaise to peel off her stockings and hose. Soon her spicy wetness scented the air, and his mouth watered to taste her. No matter that he was beneath her in every way the world would measure, Isla Sutherland would fully surrender to his tongue this night.

“Kneel on the cushion, Isla,” said Callum. “You’ll be warm enough in front of the fire.”

With a slight sway of her hips, Isla walked to the cushion and gracefully sank to her knees. Then she loosened the ties at the neck of her borrowed shirt, yanked it over her head, and tossed the garment away. Last of all, she rested her hands atop her head so they might attend to the length of linen binding her breasts.

When she was completely naked, her creamy skin almost golden in the firelight, Alastair placed one hand on her narrow shoulder. Her flesh was like silk, warm and smooth, and he dragged his callused palm along her collarbone.

Isla arched her back in an unspoken demand for him to stroke her jutting nipples. In response, he trailed his fingers between her breasts, down over her belly as though he meant to cup her dewy mound. Instead, he circled back, all the way up to grasp her chin and turned her head this way and that, as though inspecting her.

“What do you think, Callum?” he rasped, rubbing his thumb along her plump lower lip. “Will our cocks fit in this pretty mouth?”

She whimpered, and meeting his gaze, her green eyes glittering in challenge, delicately licked his thumb.

A willfully disobedient lass.

“I think we need to undress and find out,” his laird replied, adjusting the fit of his hose around a large bulge as he moved to stand next to Isla rather than behind her.

To torment her further, Alastair leaned forward and kissed Callum, gripping the back of his neck in the possessive way his laird enjoyed. Then he removed his clothing and gestured for Callum to do the same.

“Stroke your cock, my laird,” said Alastair as he handled his own thick length. “Show the lady how you like to be touched and what she’ll soon be sucking.”

Isla moaned, her body near-swaying on the cushion as she struggled to follow his rules. The curious little kitten wanted to touch and taste; need was plain on her face.

Showing her mercy at last, Alastair reached over and took one of her hands, then guided it down to wrap around his engorged cock. Callum did the same.

“Now,” he bit out, stifling a groan of pleasure at the sensation of her rough palm encircling him. “Now we begin.”

* * *

Every day, she envied Callum at the way Alastair respected him in public, and mastered him in private. Those hungry kisses. Teasing touches until he begged. Rough fucking that left him sated and dripping with seed, before being tenderly cradled. She had provoked Alastair repeatedly, hoping intemperate words or brazen behavior would lead to the same for herself, yet he had always resisted.

Until now.

Saints alive, the way he’d just touched her, treating her not as a highborn lady, but a lusty woman with desires he knew just how to ease. Even better, he would not gift her pleasure, but insist she earn it. Any warrior knew the greatest victories were those fought hard for.

Isla knelt on the cushion, the fire warming her naked skin, a thick, engorged cock clasped in each hand. Yes, her nipples and cunt throbbed in righteous fury at being neglected, but knowing that Alastair would decide if she had earned a reward and would be permitted release, only heightened her arousal.

“What must I do?” she murmured.

Alastair settled his hand atop her head, his fingers parting her hair to massage her scalp and ease the ache of her tight braid, and she almost purred. The squire often massaged Callum, and to receive the same strong yet tender touch was thrilling. With him, she wasn’t forced to choose between warrior or cosseted lover. She could be both, and that was wondrous indeed.

“Lick the head of each cock, Isla. Kiss it. Then take it between your lips and suck.”