Cam cleared his throat. “Lady Margaret is the type of woman who can enrage and arouse a man at the same time. She can be equally sharp in return if he aims words at her. He’ll need his wits about him.”
A blush heated her face. The chuckles shared by the men suggested it was a compliment rather than the expected complaint.
“I’ll warn ye, the lads have been celebratin’ the good news brought by Laird Fraser, about Sir Tearlach, and the wine he gifted us with to do so. The laird’s not been seen to have more than a cup of wine afore. Tonight he’s been raising his glass with Dougal and Finn. Niall and Torquil dinna drink much, but they be havin’ a wee bit as well.”
“He’d best not pass out afore consummating the marriage. It must be done this night. The king has entrusted me to ensure ‘tis a true marriage.”
She blanched. She could not have the herald witness that!
“One look at Lady Margaret, and our laird will turn sober.”
She winced. She’d heard her brothers talk of going sober from seeing ugly women. Was she that ugly? Her brothers and husband had suggested so, as had Edgar. She knew she was plain, short, and thin other than her breasts and ass. Edgar’s starving her and more work than food at Glen Lyon kept her thin, but that could change. Not wishing to hear anything worse about herself, she pulled the door open. The skies had cleared even more while she bathed. It had turned into a lovely summer evening.
“I left hot water for you but I’m afraid ‘tis scented with rose soap” she said to Cam. “I ate most of what Ewan kindly put out, as well.”
“There’s more,” said Ewan. “The lads are up those stairs in the hall if ye wish to see ‘em.”
“Give me but a moment, and I’ll go with you,” said Cam.
“Dinna hurry. I’ll gladly wait,” she replied. He went in, closing the door. She exhaled, slumping a bit. Now that the moment was here she was wishing to put off meeting her husband. Or would that be husbands?
“Can ye stay by yerself, lass? I be needin’ to leave.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” She smiled but didn’t reach out. “Thank you, Ewan, for meeting us, and having the bath and food ready. I’ve never been treated so well.”
“Dinna mind if the lads be a bit loud, my lady. They willna harm ye none. As for yer brother, he is well. If ye do as ye must he’ll stay that way.”
Her jaw dropped. Ewan was gone before she could think to ask a question. She would not have believed he could know if Hamish was safe except he’d met them coming out of the dark. Ewan’s words were a double-edged sword. Hamish was safe, but to keep him that way she had to be a wife to two men, no matter how distasteful. She’d survived far worse.
She squeezed her eyes to hold back tears. She didn’t cry. It was just that she was so tired from the journey and unsure of what she’d have to face next. As for his brothers being loud, well, they were men. Men liked to boast and roar and take up space to prove their greatness. She believed it meant the opposite.
“Piss on ye, Dougal!”
The deep male roar came from above her. A crash, as of something heavy on wood, followed. She shrank back into the doorway.
“Out! Take it to the bailey!” That was even louder and deeper.
Two pairs of bare feet slapped furiously down the stone steps above her. She stood back as they rushed past. They ran into the bailey and, glaring at each other, undid their belts. Their plaids dropped. They pulled their shirts over their heads and added them to the pile. Then they circled each other like a pair of dogs looking for an opening. Naked.
The blond was a few inches taller than the dark one, though both must be over six feet. The dark-haired one looked much like Ewan though his muscles were less wiry. Their cocks, swinging free, looked more impressive than Edgar’s at his most randy. Both glared as if ready to kill the other.
The dark-haired one grabbed the blond around his neck. Both roared as they fought. She’d grown up with such violence and had hoped it was forever behind her.
“Finn! Get his arm off ye! Come on, lad, dinna let him win!”
This voice came from above. Another set of feet, these slow and authoritative, came down the stairs. He passed her without noticing, striding into the bailey. He stopped, fists jammed on his hips, and watched them, his back to her.
She thought the two fighting were big, but this one was massive. He circled around so the setting sun was at his back, It gave her a view of his giant chest and shoulders and tree-trunk legs. And his face. He looked brutal, scowling at them with what looked like disgust. Deep lines grooved his forehead and bracketed his mouth. Black hair made him seem even more sinister.
““What do you think of your husband?”
A flash of need had her clenching her empty pussy. “Niall kens what we’ve just done?”
“Aye, and if ye are dallying with him while I work, I will ken it.”
Another warning, telling her not to touch his twin? She was just learning about these men. Her father and brothers were simple, making it obvious what they wanted. Edgar played nasty games, but she knew whatever he did was for his own benefit. These men were different. They cared about one another, which made them far more complicated. That made it difficult to anticipate what they were thinking, or might do.
“Will ye mind? If Niall wishes to play, I mean.”
“Nay, lass. Dinna fret.” He smoothed her brow, then kissed it. “I wished to have ye first as I am yer husband and laird. I wish ye to enjoy yerself with my twin, and with me.”
“My new life is here, with you and your brothers. I like them.”
“Even Finn and Dougal?” he said, joking as she had.
“Aye. So far. If they tromp mud all over my clean floors I may box them about the ears and deny them any sweet.”
His eyes lit up. “Sweet, ye say? Sweeter than this?”
He set his hands on her ribs and pulled her toward him. She met his lips eagerly, this time attacking him with her tongue before he had a chance. He growled in the back of his throat and took over. When they broke to breathe she pushed on his shoulders, sitting up on his belly to inhale. His eyes flashed a warning a second before he grasped her hips and lifted. She squeaked in surprise.
“Ride me, Meg.” he ordered.
“Sit yer puss on my cock. Let it fill ye and rub yer wee clit as ye wish while I play with these beauties.”
Ride him, sitting on top, in control? She eagerly reached behind and grabbed his cock. He slowly lowered her as she guided him into her heat. She hummed as she sank down on him, her flesh still swollen and wet from their earlier play. It hadn’t been long since, but he was hard and she was needy.
“God, lass, that feels so good!”
“I didna think men could get hard again so fast.”
“I went without all my life, and now I canna get enough of ye.” He frowned. “Mayhaps ye are too sore?”
She settled her bottom, clenching him. He inhaled a hiss, his eyes blazing. She set her hands on his chest, her thumbs massaging his nipples.
“I told ye, though I’ve not much experience with hard cocks, I was no virgin. Though this…” She dropped her belly to rub her clit against his hard bone. “This pleasure is new to me.” She rocked back and forth, his hands guiding her. “What of my breasts?”
A strangled chuckle emerged from him, making her bounce. He released her hips, rolling and tugging her nipples as she rode him, forgetting where they were, forgetting all but the pleasure he gave her, and the pleasure she took. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up to the sun. It felt glorious on her body. So free! He released one of her nipples. She glared down at him. He smirked.
“Mayhaps ye’d like some of this.” His finger played with her pussy before sliding up between her back cheeks.
“What are you doing?”
“Excuse me?” He gave her a hard look. She might be on top but he was in control. “Remember, wife, I do what I choose to ye as long as it doesna harm ye. And now I choose to do this.”
His knuckle twisted, teasing and tantalizing.
“Do ye like that?” he asked, again the caring lover.
“So far, aye, but I dinna ken what ’twill lead to.” He pinched her nipple hard. She gasped, clenching him in response. His knuckle went deeper, not enough to breach her, but to arouse.
“Niall and I will play with ye here.” He twisted, a bit deeper. “We’ll get some sweet oil, and one day, when ye are ready, one of our cocks will fill ye here.”
She froze, her heart thundering. His giant cock, there? “Nay,” she whispered.
“Aye,” he replied. “With care, and time, ye’ll see that pleasure can be found from more than yer wee puss.”
Though doing such a thing should repulse her, she shivered in anticipation.
“I never kenned the like! Is there more?”
“Aye. One day ye’ll ride one of us like this while the other enters yer arse. And on that day, the three of us will be one.”
Meg saw it in her head. Four hands playing with her, two cocks giving her pleasure. She shuddered as her orgasm hit. She cried out, slamming back and forth on him. His hands grabbed her hips and took over, changing the angle. She sat up, arms wide, and let him take her. Use her. Pleasure her. He roared, erupting into her.
When it was over she collapsed on his chest, boneless. Smiling. Her laird husband had taken her, hard. Yet it had been what she wanted. They might not have chosen each other, but it didn’t matter. A wiggle of worry slipped in. What if he learned he was bedding his worst enemy? She’d never do a thing to harm them, but would they believe her? They had to. Surely Somerled and his brothers would understand she’d had nothing to do with whatever her kin might have done to them.
Margaret Sinclair Campbell no longer existed. She was Meg MacDougal, wife to Somerled and Niall. God willing, she would be mother of their many children. Though maybe not sixteen of them…
“After that, we need a wee swim.”