The British Bondage Collection

by Bailey, J. A.

  "Oh God," she breathed as she came face to face with his pulsing, shining cock.

  A small drop of pre-cum hung from the end and she darted eagerly forwards to lick it up, savouring its salty taste on her tongue.

  "Uhmmmm," she moaned as she wrapped a hand around his shaft, feeling it surge under her fingers, and drew it into her mouth.

  Circling the smooth head with her tongue, she explored his ridges, pressing against the sensitive underside of his dick and drawing back. His hands in her hair urged her forwards once more and she took him as far back as she could.

  “That’s it, take it deep, lass.”

  The man grunted with surprise as she swallowed and drew him further down her throat, taking most of his length. Samantha grabbed his hard buttocks and held him there for a moment before working up and down his cock as he enthusiastically screwed her mouth. His distinctive male tang on her tongue sent a curl of need straight to her still twitching pussy.

  His buttocks flexed beneath his kilt as he rocked back and forth and emitted small groans and harsh breaths. Samantha stared up at him as he towered over her. In spite of the spit dribbling down her chin, she would happily have him fucking her mouth all day. God, he was so bloody gorgeous, especially with his jaw clenched tight in pleasure. The pleasure that she was giving him.

  Feeling the sudden surge of his cock, Samantha picked up the pace. His legs vibrated with unspent power as his fingers pressed into her scalp, holding her in place until his cock exploded, sending streams of hot cum straight down her throat. She gulped and shuddered as he milked himself against her throat.

  “Mmm, swallow it,” he ordered huskily.

  He went to pull out but she gripped his arse and held him in place as she licked and sucked his semi-hard shaft clean.

  His fingers curled around her and he hauled her to her feet. She wanted to protest—I could lick his cock forever—but his muscular arms came around her and he held her tight as he swept her hair back from her face, pressing an urgent kiss to her mouth. She used the opportunity to force her hands underneath his jumper and shirt.

  “Oh…” she sighed as her hands met with sleek, warm flesh.

  The man laughed and pulled off his jumper and shirt. His hand went to his kilt but she touched his arm and shook her head. “Keep it on.” He raised an eyebrow as he grinned at her. “Please?” she begged.

  He shrugged and kicked off his boots, yanking off his socks with them. Samantha expelled a heavy breath as she studied him, completely forgetting her own nudity. His chest flexed with every breath and he reminded her of a warrior. Somehow, without the bulk of his jumper, he appeared even more daunting.

  “Are you done, lass?”

  Samantha giggled and nodded before flattening herself against him. His breath hissed between his teeth as their skin connected and her skin prickled at the contact, her nipples pressed hard against him.

  The Scotsman rubbed his large hands over her, sweeping over her buttocks as he kissed at her neck. Abruptly, he turned her around and urged her towards the bed.

  “Kneel down,” he commanded as her knees hit the edge of the bed.

  Her heart kicked up as she got down onto her knees, his hand pushing lightly on the back of her neck. The light pressure of his hand pressed her over the bed so that her bottom jutted out and she rested her head against the thick satin throw as a shiver on anticipation threaded through her.

  He knelt down beside her and smoothed his hand over her arse, dipping briefly between her legs and making her jolt towards his fingers.

  “You seem like the kind of girl who would enjoy a spanking,” he mused.

  A strangled noise left her throat. Oh God, yes. How did he know? Was it the way her bottom bucked into his hand that gave it away?

  “Do you like a spanking, lass?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered as his hand continued to stroke agonisingly slowly across each arse cheek, “Yes, yes, yes…” she continued to whisper.

  His palm came down so suddenly that she’d barely had time to realise he’d stopped caressing her. She yelped as the sharp slap resonated in her ears and her bottom smarted. The scent of her arousal suffused the air as he smacked again and again, shifting his attention from one buttock to the other. Her skin stung and she snivelled as the blows became heavier, the man seemingly intent on spanking every inch of her trembling arse, but she’d never felt so alive.

  She squealed as he gave her four more sharp smacks. Two to each cheek, harder and stronger than the previous ones. Then his lips came down and tickled across each heated buttock before trailing up her spine and sweeping aside her hair and kissing the back of her neck. His kilt chafed against her arse as his erection prodded into her and his hands came underneath her to cup at her breasts, drawing her upright and against him.

  He kissed his way across her shoulders, nipping lightly at her skin as he plucked at her nipples. She rubbed herself against his cock as the ache in her cunt became unbearable.

  “Please,” she murmured.

  “Please what?”

  “I need your cock…in me…” she grated out as his sharp tugs on her nipples stole the breath from her.

  He chuckled and hefted her into his arms, hooking one under her legs. He lifted her easily and climbed onto the bed. The mattress sank beneath him as he lay back and positioned her over him. She sucked in a breath as she took in all that muscle laid out just for her.

  “Ride me,” he said.

  Hell, yes. Samantha grinned, aware that she probably looked like the Cheshire cat when she did so. She flipped up his kilt and gave his erection a quick rub, feeling it harden further beneath her fingertips. She shifted forwards, settling her drenched folds over him, teasing them both as his velvety head slipped across them.

  His large hand came suddenly around her neck as the other one gripped at her hip and he shoved her downwards, impaling her viciously on his thick length.

  “Fuck,” she cried out at the sudden intrusion as he urged her up with the hand on her neck before directing her down onto him again.

  The hand around her neck remained firm, not squeezing but simply controlling her. The heat of his fingers wrapped around her made her feel oddly protected, the knowledge of all that contained strength tugging at that hidden womanly part of her once more. Here she was completely at his mercy, giving over every ounce of her trust and he knew exactly how far to push that trust. How to give her everything she needed.

  Pressing his hips into her, he grunted as her sheath clenched around him. With the positioning of his hands, Samantha barely had to do anything. He controlled her movements, allowing him to pound upwards into her until she vibrated with need and their skin sheened. The hand on her hip closed suddenly over her sex and he pressed his thumb into her clit. He held it there as their violent rocking motion made her nub run furiously over his callused digit.

  Her body tightened as the sensation in her pussy verged on the edge of unbearable and his hand on her neck became more determined, plunging her down onto him with increasing force.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” she squealed.

  “Say my name,” he groaned. “Finn. Say it,” he commanded.

  “Oh, Finn…” she cried out as the tension claimed her, her pussy pulsing as her orgasm surged through her clit and inside of her, spiralling through her body.

  “Sam…” he muttered against her hair as she collapsed forwards and he thrust up into her, his salty spray surging into her pulsing cunt.

  His harsh breaths blew into her hair as they both sagged and Samantha felt the lethargy of satisfaction seep into her body. With her cheek pressed against his solid chest and his cock still in her, she was sure she could stay here forever.

  “Finn,” she murmured experimentally to herself. What a man! God, she’d never come so hard before. She thought of her friends off hunting ghosts and grinned. Yeah, she definitely got the better end of the deal.

  Finn eased her off him and settled her into his arms, kissing her as she curled into his
embrace.

  “I’m glad you found me,” she whispered as her lids drifted shut. “I’m glad I didn’t have to spend the night with the ghosts.”

  Finn chuckled softly. “I’m glad I found you too, lass. You are something special.”

  “Can we do some more?” she asked quietly as she smothered a yawn.

  “You can count on it.”

  ***

  Stretching, Samantha blinked and frowned as she took in her surroundings. Oh yes, the castle. The room was still dark, the heavy curtains blocking out most of the light but the digital clock on the bedside said it was 8 am. Bloody hell, she’d slept the whole night!

  She sat up suddenly and stared at the empty pillow beside her.

  Finn.

  Tilting her head, she trailed her fingers over the pillow. It was cold. Where had he gone? He’d promised her more. She hadn’t expected to fall asleep for so long, not with her insomnia, but she thought he’d still be here in the morning.

  The pillow wasn’t even indented. Had she just dreamt him up? Shaking her head, she forced her stiff body out of bed, ignoring the sinking in her stomach. Maybe he just wanted one night and didn’t want to have to deal with the morning after. He hadn’t seemed the type, but what did she really know about him? Maybe he spent every weekend seducing lost guests.

  Who was he anyway? Staff? He’d never said and she’d been too lost in desire to ask. She paused in from of the full-length mirror and turned around to study her arse. She frowned. After the spanking he’d given her, she expected at least a little bit of redness. Maybe she really had dreamt him up.

  No, it wasn’t possible. She wasn’t that drunk.

  Pulling on her jeans, she picked up her bra that had been flung to one side and glanced around the room. Her discarded clothes were the only sign that anything had happened, and she knew that she could have been the one to fling them off.

  Grabbing a clean jumper from her suitcase, she yanked it over her head, brushed her teeth at the sink in the corner and ran a brush through her hair. She was about to leave, desperate to see if she could track down the elusive Finn but stopped and put on a dash of lipstick and mascara, just in case she did run into him. She didn’t want him regretting what he’d done with her.

  Throwing open her door, she slammed it shut behind her and scurried along the hallway and down the stairs. Her heart sank as she found the dining room empty. She was about to search the rest of the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Finn when Aileen came into the room pushing a trolley with a teapot and cups on it.

  “Oh, good morning. I didn’t think any of you lasses would be up yet, so I’m a bit late setting up breakfast I’m afraid.”

  “Oh,” Samantha said for want of anything else to say.

  “Sit down and I’ll bring out your breakfast in just a minute.”

  Darting a glance around, Samantha nodded and sat meekly. Well what else could she do? Start turning the castle upside down to search for her mystery man?

  Aileen was setting out the teacups when the other girls came into the dining room.

  “Sam!” Lucy exclaimed. “What happened to you last night?”

  “I got lost,” Samantha told her as her cheeks flamed.

  “We were worried about you but when we got back to your room, your door was locked and we figured you’d gone to bed.”

  “Did you find any ghosts?” Samantha asked brightly, desperate to change the subject.

  Annie snorted. “Hardly, but that didn’t stop Lucy from jumping at every noise.”

  “It was pretty spooky,” Fran said as she snatched a piece of toast from the plate that Aileen placed on the table. “But we definitely didn’t see any ghosts.”

  “I don’t know,” Lucy said with a mock shiver. “I sure felt some weird things. Changes in temperature, cold fingers…and I’m sure I saw some orbs.”

  “Orbs!” Annie laughed. “What nonsense.” She took a sip of her tea and eyed Samantha over the rim. “Sorry you missed out, Sam.”

  Samantha shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s ok. I slept really well actually. I think I needed it.”

  Annie’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t say anything. Of all her friends, Annie was the cleverest. She didn’t know how, but Annie had definitely figured out that something was up.

  Eating her breakfast in silence, she listened with a vague smile as the girls recounted their adventures. Lucy was particularly enthusiastic in telling her about her ghostly encounters. “You should have felt it, Sam. Like cold fingers travelling up my back. It was definitely a ghost.”

  Samantha scowled. Cold fingers? She shuddered as she remembered the feeling that had spurred her into Finn’s arms. A ghost? She smirked inwardly. Don’t be daft, Sam.

  When they finished their breakfast, Aileen cleared away the crockery. “Would you like a tour of the castle in the daylight?” she asked as she shifted everything back onto the tea tray.

  “Absolutely!” Samantha declared enthusiastically.

  Even Aileen gave her an odd look at her enthusiasm and Samantha lowered her gaze. She just had to find Finn.

  “Let me clear up and then I’ll give you the tour,” Aileen said as she wheeled the trolley out.

  “Didn’t know you were that into castles,” Annie said with a sly smile.

  “I-I just thought it would be interesting,” Samantha offered lamely.

  Lucy, the only one who seemed unaware of Samantha’s discomfort, piped up, “Well, I can’t wait to look around. It’s so beautiful here. What I wouldn’t give to live in a place like this.”

  Samantha nodded her agreement and sighed. In spite of the spookiness, the castle was beautiful and almost homely with its heavy drapery and dark wood furniture. Of course, the fact that she had encountered a gorgeous Scotsman and slept better than she had in months here probably added to its appeal.

  With everything cleared away, Aileen led them back out into the hallway and into one of the drawing rooms. It was decorated similarly to the rest of the house with rustic wood furniture, shields on the walls and family portraits.

  Samantha froze as she stared up at the portrait above the fireplace.

  Finn.

  It had to be. Stood in the same kilt she’d seen him in last night, he was posing in front of the windows that looked out onto the loch.

  “Handsome, isn’t he?”

  Samantha jolted as Aileen peered over her shoulder.

  “Yes,” she admitted with a smile.

  “Laird Finnean McLaughlin.”

  Samantha’s brows darted up. “Laird?” Holy shit, I’ve slept with a laird!

  “Yes. This was painted about twenty years ago now…”

  “Twenty years—?”

  “…shortly before he died,” Aileen continued.

  Samantha gulped. “He died?”

  Aileen offered her a sad smile. “Yes, far too young, I know. A road accident.”

  “He’s dead?” Samantha stared back up at the picture, her gut churning. The man she had made love to was dead? A sharp pang of sorrow struck her heart, mingling with the incomprehension. What was he then? A ghost? Samantha snorted at herself. No, don’t be ridiculous. It was a dream. It had to be. But how had she known what he looked like?

  Aileen gave her a funny look and moved away to the other girls who were admiring the view outside. Samantha couldn’t pull her gaze away from the handsome man in the painting. He had seemed so real. She’d even hoped that maybe… maybe there would be a future... I’m losing my mind. That was the only explanation. I was planning a future with a figment of my imagination.

  Unless…unless he really was a ghost. What had he said? That places like this held memories. He’d told her that this castle dated back to the 11th Century. How could she have made that up? She didn’t even know that until he’d said so.

  Bloody hell, she’d made love to a ghost. It all made sense now. The way he’d disappeared, the strange sensations, the amazing orgasms… Jesus, he’d even known her name and she didn’t pick up on
the fact that she’d never told him it.

  One of the girls called to her, but she didn’t register who as she turned dazedly away from the picture. Walking over to the window, she nodded numbly as they made comments about the scenery.

  Something caught her eye and she looked up and jumped. “Finn!”

  He strolled into the room and Samantha could feel the blood drain from her face. She backed away as he approached. She darted a glance at Aileen who appeared completely unperturbed by the ghost of the dead laird.

  The other girls all fixed her with a look of concern, which quickly gave way to simpering smiles as they spotted Finn.

  He looked so real. They probably didn’t even realise he was a ghost. She edged behind Annie as he greeted them warmly. Samantha could feel her legs quaking beneath her as she stared at him. How could he just be strolling around like that? Didn’t ghosts only come out at night?

  “Did you have a fun night?” he asked them, fixing his gaze onto hers.

  Her cheeks flamed and she took another step back, her head swimming. With a sudden cry, she spun on her heels and ran out of the room and up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. A ghost! She’d shagged a ghost! Sprinting along the hall, she fumbled with the lock on her door. As she pressed it open, he came to her side and grabbed her arm.

  Samantha screamed and tried to tear herself away from him but his grip was too strong. The spinning in her head increased and stars swam across her vision as the shock took hold. How could she possibly escape a ghost?

  Her legs gave way and he scooped her easily into his embrace. She was vaguely aware of him kicking open her door before slamming it firmly shut and laying her on the bed.

  “Sam?” he said quietly.

  Her vision cleared and she bolted upright, huddling into the headboard and pulling her knees to her chest as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

  “Sam, what’s wrong?

  “Y-you…you…you’re…” she stammered.

  “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t see you this morning. You were fast asleep and I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. I had to help Aileen with the breakfasts.”