Page 54 of Wicked Passions

“I can almost see your mind turning, Isla,” said Alastair, resting his hands on her shoulders and massaging them until she relaxed with a sigh. “What troubles you?”

“My future as a wife,” she said slowly. “If it will be as I hope.”

Callum took her hand and squeezed it. “It shall be how you desire, Isla. We are all new students in the school of marriage. I know there’ll be much to learn and things we’ll do wrong. But if we talk to each other with truth, open hearts, and kindness, then we shall overcome any obstacle.”

Isla smiled. “You hold such wisdom, and Alastair is a rock of strength. I was afraid of marriage, because I never thought, not even for a moment, that a man would understand me. That he would welcome my unconventional nature. And now I have not one but two men who accept me for who I am. Do you know how rare and precious that is? I love you both with my whole heart. Yet I do have a concern. I wish to be Isla the wife, and one day a mother. But I do not want to stop being Isla the lover and friend and protector. Isla the swordfighter. And I know…I know the clergy and court have certain thoughts on this. About a woman’s place…”

Alastair snorted. “The clergy and court have certain thoughts about many things. Including that it is immoral and shameful for two men to love each other with hearts and bodies. We don’t believe that, nor do we seek to change you or suppress your spirit. In bed, you submit, for it gives you great pleasure to do so. However, you are always free to make your desires plain, or to decline an act.”

“My weavers will make you hose and shirt to fit,” added Callum. “And if you wish to practice swordplay every day; to train my clan and be the warrior Lady of Glennoe, then it shall be so. None of us are conventional people, and that alongside love, will be our great strength.”

“Then I am most content,” said Isla, beaming at them both. “And now I wish very much to be bedded by my husbands.”

Callum and Alastair exchanged a wicked grin. Then slowly, far too slowly, they began to undress her. Girdle. Gown. Kirtle. Shift. Stockings. All the while they caressed her, stroking her shoulders and belly and inner thighs until she thought she might scream with want. At last, they guided her over to the biggest bed and settled her in the center, before removing their own clothes.

To provoke them, Isla pinched her own nipples before licking a fingertip and sliding it down between her legs to tease her pearl. Retribution was swift; Callum secured her hands above her head, and Alastair gave her cunt a sharp smack.

Isla quivered in delight. How wonderful it was to have lovers who knew exactly what made her wet and needy…and provided it.

“You see, Alastair?” said Callum, circling her nipple with his fingertip. “We have a very wicked wife. A wild Highland lass, indeed.”

“Aye,” said their squire, as he leaned down to kiss her. “She’ll need pleasuring often. And discipline. ’Tis the only way.”

“Bed me now,” Isla demanded, moaning when she received another smack. “Please…”

Alastair trailed his fingers over her breasts, down her belly, until he could thread them in the crisp dark hair between her legs. Isla parted her thighs wide and lifted her hips so her mound rubbed against him. But her devilish beast would not permit that, and his fingers retreated to caress her hip instead.

“Noooooo,” she wailed.

Callum kissed her neck and stroked the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, making her gasp. “The scent of you,” he whispered. “It makes my cock so hard.”

“Then fuck your lady wife,” Isla whispered back. “She needs it.”

“Greedy lass,” he replied, gently pushing a single finger inside her wet sheath and moving it in and out until she writhed on the bed. Then Alastair added a finger as well, and Isla’s whole body arched as she cried out in sweet release.

She hoped to be taken, but her husbands continued to torment her with their fingers; Callum pushed a second inside her, while Alastair painted her swollen pearl with her own honey, before leaning down to suck it off. Soon she bucked, soaring to the stars as pleasure shook her to the core.

“Fuck me,” Isla begged, when she eventually regained her senses. “Please.”

Alastair nodded. “Callum, lie on your back. Isla, get on your hands and knees and take his cock into your mouth. I’ll prepare your cunt and arse with some oil. We shall do this very, very slowly.”

Prowling up her laird’s body like a cat, Isla kissed him, flicking his lips with her tongue until he sucked it into his mouth. Then she slithered down, took his cock in her hand, and lapped at the damp head.

Callum groaned. “Yes.”

Soon it was her groaning around Callum’s cock, as Alastair worked two oil-slick fingers into her cunt, and two into her arse. Even with her wetness and the oil the stretch still burned, but it promised such ecstasy she pushed back against Alastair, trying to force him deeper inside her.

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.