Captive Bride [Highland Menage 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  “Aye, I want yer mouth on me almost more than breath itself. But when that lug filling yer pussy makes ye come, I dinna want yer sharp teeth clamping down on me.” He winked. “Ye can take yer time with me after ye reach yer peak.”

  She licked his tip and swirled her tongue around it. He groaned and dropped his head back. Gillis nudged her knees farther apart, reached under, and found her clit. She shuddered, gripping Angus with her fist. Gillis rubbed his finger in circles around her clit without touching it. She wanted more!

  With her mouth no longer occupied with Angus’s cock, she had more freedom of movement. She tilted her arse, thrusting herself onto Gillis’s cock and finger. He chuckled and thrust harder. She gripped Angus’s cock with both hands, squeezing. He did not complain. She rested her head on her forearm and shifted her concentration to receiving pleasure.

  Gillis changed angle, hitting something that set her shuddering. His finger finally found her clit. She squeezed, pussy and ass, demanding more. He sped up, pulling out and slamming into her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, could only feel. The tension got higher and higher.

  “Let it go,” demanded Gillis.

  He pinched her clit and drilled deep into her arse and she exploded. She bucked against him as he roared his possession of her. The intense pleasure faded too soon. Gillis pulled out, groaned, and collapsed beside her.

  She looked at him. Intense blue eyes stared back. Gillis had the longest, thickest eyelashes she'd ever seen.

  “That pleased you, aye?” whispered Angus.

  “Aye,” she agreed, turning to him. “And now ‘tis your turn.”

  With her needs met she had the patience to play with Angus. She nipped, then flicked her tongue to soothe him. She drew her teeth lightly over the head, making him hiss. If she liked Gillis’s finger in her arse so much, wouldn’t Angus? She slid a finger between his cheeks and then pressed her knuckle against his asshole. His eyes widened, but he did not draw back. She kept her knuckle there, rubbing while her mouth engulfed him again. He groaned loud and long, then sat up. He lifted her mouth away. She frowned.

  “I wanted to make ye beg,” she said.

  “And I wish ye to ride me like ye would a horse,” he said.

  Gillis’s hands around her ribs guided her into place. It was far more pleasant this time, able to see, and knowing she was free. Angus’s eyes widened as she slowly slid down his shaft. She leaned forward and realized her clit rubbed against him. She leaned farther, taking her time to try out the best angle. Angus lifted his hands to her breasts, molding, squeezing, and pinching. Delicious tension once again curled in her belly. She took her time, taking him slow and steady. She remembered what he enjoyed and leaned back, reaching around for his balls. He choked then gasped. She stilled, teasing him by clenching his cock with her pussy.

  “Och, Fiona.” He growled low in his throat. “Ride me hard.”

  His need for her thrilled her, filling a part of her soul that had been empty. She smiled down at him and did as he asked, for both their sakes. His hands moved to her hips, a pressure more of encouragement than demand.

  She set her hands on his chest and rode him, hard. As she slammed down, he rose up to meet her. Wet slapping sounds filled her ears, along with the rushing of her blood. He suddenly roared. His grip tightened, slamming her down onto him. His demand and need for her pushed her over the edge into oblivion.

  Chapter Nine

  Gillis scowled as he rode toward the drawbridge. Cameron’s men had shown up early the third morning, cutting short their erotic plans. They’d barely exchanged a hurried kiss since, even last night, thanks to their grinning escort. In spite of his wanting to see Fiona in a dress she’d refused to put it on until they were within sight of the castle. She’d also insisted on keeping her braies underneath. He and Angus accepted it as they were visiting another clan. It would be different at home in Duncladach.

  Despite their demand that it fit well, the dress Darach provided had a bodice so tight Fiona’s breasts were barely contained. A white kerch covered her shorn hair to show she was married. He’d rather it cover her expanse of bosom but agreed it was best she show she was a married woman and unavailable.

  Fiona rode on his lap. He wanted to hold her, make her feel safe, and announce to all that she belonged to him. She shivered as they passed over the drawbridge and into the outer courtyard. He realized it must be her first time under the power of another laird. She’d never been off Menzies land until the day her fool brother led them into Campbell hands.

  Whatever story Darach had told his father, and it seemed everyone else, they were welcomed. There was a chance with all the guests for the wedding they would be separated, the women sharing beds and the men finding a spot in the inner courtyard, or the hall if it rained. As they would be there for a couple of weeks he hoped they’d have a room together for a few nights before the important guests arrived.

  Gillis glowered at a grinning Darach when he motioned for Fiona, but handed her over. He dismounted, reaching for her immediately, needing to keep her close. She huddled between him and Angus, her eyes darting all over. He noticed she was not looking at people as much as methods of defense. He and Angus had wondered about some of the things Fiona said about her unusual education. Seeing her critical eye, looking at things in a way few women would, proved she was not just repeating words she’d heard spoken by armsmen.

  They followed Darach through the entrance passage to the bailey. It was bustling, a well-organized confusion. He was delighted to see Auld Maggie at the center of it. She’d put on weight but hadn’t slowed any since the last time he saw her. She grinned widely, showing she’d lost another few teeth.

  “So, ye found yerself a wife, a good ‘un but wee,” she said, sizing them up. “Mayhaps she’ll smarten ye up. Lands’ sakes, I did me best.” She gave him and Angus a strong hug before making a small bob at Fiona. “This way, m’lady.”

  Fiona gave him a startled look. He nodded, making a shooing motion with his fingers to say she was to go along. It wasn’t as if they had a choice. They were guests, but very junior ones.

  “Ye’ll get her back when we sup,” said Darach, watching her leave with too much admiration for Gillis's comfort.

  “Keep your eyes off my wife’s arse,” he said, just loud enough. His gut tightened at Darach’s smug look in return. That usually meant trouble. Angus scowled as well, agreeing with his concern.

  “Laird Cameron wishes to speak to ye both.”

  “What did you tell him about my wife?” demanded Gillis.

  “‘Tis nay so much what I said, as what he decided,” replied Derek far too smoothly. “One more thing. I shall take care of yer horses if ye ’dinna survive my father’s wee chat.”

  He and Angus shared a dark look. This was not good. The comment about horses was an old joke, said often as boys when they’d gotten in trouble and were facing punishment. It suggested something dire was in the works.

  “Dinna fash, laddies. Father will find Fiona a good husband,” added Darach with a smirk.

  “I’ll nay smash my fist into yer face,” warned Gillis as he followed Darach to the corner stairs. “But there’ll be no mark if I fill yer belly with a few of these.” He held up his clenched fists, snarling.

  “You’ll nay abuse the son of our host,” warned Angus mildly, at his back. “Until we’re ready to leave,” he added. “Then I’ll gladly join ye in showing this grinning fool how MacDougals can still thump a Cameron.”

  Gillis grunted his reluctant agreement. They headed up, keeping to the outside so their big feet would fit on the narrow stairs. He slowed to make a gap between them and their host.

  “He’s up to something,” muttered Gillis. “Or his father is. Do ye ken what—”

  “Cameron will do whatever he chooses and we will like it, or leave,” replied Angus crisply.

  “As long as we leave with everything we brought, including Fiona.”

  “Aye. Now step lively. He doesna lik
e to be kept waiting.”

  Surprisingly, Cameron greeted them almost as if they were his sons. He’d treated them no different than his own while fostering them. He was older, grayer, but still radiated power and control.

  “Darach said you and Fiona of Menzies were guests of Clan Campbell,” he said, drilling his eyes into Gillis. “And how did that come about?”

  Gillis was suddenly ten again, having been caught doing something foolish. Cameron wasn’t one to beat young boys. Instead, he flayed them with his tongue. His words made them realize the error of their ways, using methods that struck far deeper than pain.

  Since leaving his care they’d learned ways and means of providing and withholding information. Unfortunately, the old warrior knew how to extract more than a man wished to give. Cameron laughed at how Gillis had been caught while fishing. He’d often had his head smacked for not concentrating. It was ironic the one time he did keep his attention, he was grabbed. Perhaps one day Gillis would laugh at the predicament he’d gotten himself into. It did not mean he wanted others to laugh at him today, especially when there’d be so many visitors that the story would be told and retold with embellishments. He did agree the end result, taking Fiona to wife, was worth it.

  Darach refilled the mugs while Cameron leaned back. He had that calculating look that made Gillis squirm and even Angus look uncomfortable.

  “You were handfasted soon after meeting. Why?”

  “Fiona needed protection.”

  Cameron waved the reply away. “You were on my land by then. All she needed was your sword arms. What about your plans of a rich wife and lands of your own?”

  “That changed when a wildcat was dropped on me by the Campbells,” replied Gillis.

  “A wildcat?” Cameron’s brows raised in humor. “She seemed quite meek on arrival, and familiar.” His eyes were unfocused, thinking. “She took a good look as if counting my men, their level of readiness, and what armaments are kept at hand.”

  “She was trained as a squire and was lectured to by her brother’s tutor. Dinna dismiss her as a weakling female.”

  “She tried to take my head off with words as she was snuggled up to Gillis without her clothes,” said Darach, amused. “If she’d been dressed I might have had my person attacked.”

  Cameron raised an eyebrow. “Scratches and snarls, does she?”

  Gillis nodded proudly. “Aye, but she also purrs.”

  “What of you?” asked Cameron, directing his attention to Angus.

  “Fiona was not raised as a lady, though I say she be one, bastard or no.” His Adam’s apple jerked when he swallowed, which meant he was tense. “She accepts me as I am.” A faint flush tinged his ears and cheeks. “And finds joy in it,” he added with quiet dignity.

  “She accepted both of ye in her bed, then?”

  “Aye,” said Gillis, staring him in the eye. “She agreed afore she handfasted with me.”

  “If one day she chooses to speak afore a priest, it will be with me,” added Angus quickly.

  Cameron tapped his finger pads together as he thought. “Laird MacDougal will be pleased to have an alliance with Menzies.”

  “There’ll be no alliance,” said Gillis abruptly. He could barely keep the snarl out of his voice. “Ye ken how we accept our bastard brothers. Menzies said she was a bastard who meant nothing to him. He ruled none were to rape her, as they do the other servants, but he had her beaten if he caught sight of her!”

  Angus put a calming hand on his arm before turning to Cameron. “Gillis promised we’d take Fiona to her mother’s people if she wished, once we leave here.”

  “Who are her people?”

  “She said her mother came as a servant with Menzies’s first wife, a Fraser. After the wife died her mother was forced into his bed. She died a few weeks after Fiona’s birth. There were no other bastards kept upstairs.”

  “Her mother was a Fraser?” demanded Cameron, suddenly intense.

  Gillis shrugged. “Fiona’s not a Campbell nor a Bruce. ‘Tis all that matters.”

  “The Menzies is an ally, or at least not a foe, to Campbell,” added Angus.

  “My wife is now Fiona MacDougal,” replied Gillis with quiet emphasis. “She has no mother, and her father gave her naught but nightmares. She supported her clan and gave them her life and has no more use for them. She willna harm yer clan, nor mine.”

  “How do ye ken she speaks the truth?”

  “The lass had a fever for three days,” said Angus. “Ye canna lie when out of yer head. She cried out how she would never beg, and never give in.” Angus cleared his throat, settling himself and lowering his voice. “She believes, as do we, that her father would rather have her raped, murdered, and tossed into a midden than be returned home safe. We canna believe she survived with her spirit intact. She was an embarrassment to him, but we are proud of her.”

  Cameron looked over their heads at a tapestry for a few minutes. It wasn’t as much a tactic to make them stew as it was his habit while thinking and planning. It still made Gillis twitch.

  “If she still wishes, and with your permission, we’ll bring her to Fraser lands to find her mother’s people,” said Angus.

  “Do ye like her outside the bed?”

  “There’s nay been a bed,” replied Gillis bitterly, scowling at Darach for telling the guard to watch them closely. “Just a wee pallet on a dirt floor in yon bothy.” He remembered the other times out in the sun. His cheeks heated. Darach noticed and chuckled. Fair skin was a curse of his red hair.

  “‘Tis nay my fault yer woman is shy,” protested Darach, openly mocking him.

  “‘Twas good we ne’er touched her these last days,” said Angus to Gillis.

  “Good? Why would ye say that?”

  “We’ve not spent time with a woman before, talking and, aye, laughing,” replied Angus quietly. “She’s a bonny wee thing,” he said to Cameron. “Bastard or no, Fiona’s father is a laird. She deserves a man of rank, one who will give her jewels and dress her in silk in the summer and furs in the cold. Her father denied all that to her. She says she doesna mind, but I do.” Angus brushed his tattered plaid. The MacDougals had one set of fine clothes for the wedding, still in their saddlebags. “I would hire out my sword to gain her gold.”

  “You would leave your brother with your shared wife to make her life better?”

  Angus met Cameron’s gaze head-on. “I’d sell my soul to the devil if it would help Fiona find contentment.”

  “You think you are not good enough for her?”

  “Until today we were her only choice,” said Angus. “We’re rough men with rough clothing and manners. Here she will see some braw men and have sweet words whispered in her ear. She may find someone more pleasing to her.”

  Gillis opened his mouth to complain, but one look from Cameron made him stop. He clenched his teeth as well as his fists. They were handfasted with proof of consummation since Darach had walked in on them naked together. But if the laird of Clan Cameron, their foster father, wanted her for his own purposes, and she agreed, they could lose her. He’d promised to care for her, and that was why the possibility of losing her bothered him. If Cameron did lure her away the laird would ensure she was well treated.

  But he wanted to be the man she turned to in the night!

  “Mayhaps,” added Angus, leaning forward and adding an edge to his voice, “Fiona will look around and decide she wishes to live out her life as a MacDougal.”

  A slight narrowing of Cameron’s eyes was the only warning he gave of his displeasure at Angus’s tone. He waited a moment, making them sweat.

  “I’ll make sure the woman ends up with a husband that suits her well.”

  Angus cursed, so softly even Gillis couldn’t make out the words. His brother’s fists and jaw were clenched as tightly as his own.

  “Do what’s best for the lady,” said Angus into the hanging silence, his voice raw. “We will have had a few days with her, which is more than we had before. Becaus
e of how we treated her she will not fear her husband on her wedding night.”

  “But—” blurted Gillis.

  Angus turned on him, dark eyes flashing with anger and pain. “Do ye wish Fiona to stay with a pair of ragged brothers if she could find a better life?”

  Gillis held his breath, keeping his curses behind his teeth. “Nay.” He heaved a sigh of frustration. “If it weren’t for the wee lassie and her bindings I’d have been whipped and beaten, mayhaps even hanged by the Campbells.” He grimaced, hating to do it yet able to force the words out. “Aye, Laird Cameron. I ask ye to do what’s best fer Fiona.”

  Cameron stood, indicating the interview was over. They did the same, though more slowly. “I thank you for your permission to do as I choose,” said Cameron dryly.

  A knock and the door opened, revealing a wizened old man. A much younger one held a pot of ink and parchment. He and Angus stepped back to let the pair in. Old Murphy, Cameron’s man of letters, scowled at them as he always had. Gillis knew the scribe had no proof he’d been the one who’d played numerous pranks, but his suspicions were correct. Not that he’d needed proof to set punishment.

  “Come,” said Darach. “Ye are to use the bathhouse.”

  Gillis stopped in his tracks. “Hot water? Why not use the river?”

  Darach shrugged, his expression so bland as to be false. “Your homecoming?”

  Chapter Ten

  Lochiel, Laird Cameron, looked out the window yet saw nothing. He’d sent a note asking his lady wife to take a look at the waif who’d arrived with his foster sons. Fiona had a striking resemblance to Eloise’s good friend Lady Morag Fraser. The two women had fostered together. Eloise had confirmed his thoughts. They knew the truth of Fiona’s parentage though Fiona did not. Menzies would do anything to increase his power and have people look up to him. He would never have kept a bastard in his nursery. The child of a servant would have been raised as one.

  Fiona was no bastard.