The Highlander's Little Lass
Page 10
Angus. Her first thought was that he was coming for her. That he’d found her. That he would surely kill her now to keep her from escaping again. But the horse coming toward her was not his. Her heart leapt in her chest. She recognized the huge black gelding as it came into view, and the huge man on top of it.
She broke from behind the stone wall, lifting her skirts as she ran through the heather toward the riders. Bran McKinnon’s horse had not even come to a full halt before he was off and sprinting toward his wife. When he reached her, he lifted her in his arms, holding her to him as he kissed the tears from her face.
“Are ye hurt? Are ye hurt?” Bran finally put her down and studied her from arm’s length. “Did they…”
“Nae,” she said. “I escaped, untouched. But the men… Angus… they’re surely…”
“You’ve nothing to fear from him now,” Bran said. “Or Duncan.” He crushed her to him again. “Oh, Glynis… wee Glynis. I should have listened to ye. Can ye forgive me? When I think what my stubborn pride and allegiance to clan could have cost me… could have cost you.” He looked down at her. “You’re my kith and kin now, Glynis. I should have been well to remember that. I don’t deserve to lead you.”
“Nonsense, Bran,” she said. “It is because you are strong enough to say this that you must be the one to lead me. I’d be lost without you—a lost bairn.”
He scooped her up in his arms. “I’ll never lose ye again,” he said. “I’m taking ye home now. And I’ll never let ye go again.”
Chapter Eleven: Highlander’s Prize
The days following Glynis’ return were not easy ones. Word of Duncan’s betrayal rocked the McKinnon, as did his trial and conviction for crimes not just against his laird, but against the king who had ordered the peace. In the end, the ambitious former factor neither asked for nor was given mercy. He was hung for his crime. Angus and his companions were shown more mercy, albeit a dubious mercy. They would spend the rest of their days in a cell, never to feel the sun on their faces again.
The importance of the truce was now a matter of record. Any McKinnons or McLeods toying with the idea of subverting the peace put the idea aside in wake of the king’s punishment. The clans were finally at peace. But the matter of making certain this was the case—at least on the McKinnon side—had fallen on Bran’s shoulders. He was away from his home far longer than he wished.
When he returned, it was to a wife more than ready for his attentions. The day Ina was instructed to present her charge to her husband’s bedchamber, Glynis was so happy she nearly cried. Her lush body had longed for his touch daily since they’d last been together at the stones. It had felt like a lifetime had passed between that time and the moment her nanny finally walked Glynis to her husband’s door.
“I won’t expect to fetch you early,” the older woman said with a knowing smile.
“You can sleep past sunrise tomorrow,” Glynis said. “Or even better, find a randy manservant to give you a reason to stay beneath the covers.”
“Och, you cheeky lass!” Nanny Ina blushed. “’Tis been so long I’ve forgotten how…”
“Nonsense.” Glynis leaned in to hug the woman who’d raised her. “Thank you for helping me understand the wisdom of marrying this man, Ina. So many times I thought you just a daft meddler in my affairs. But you really have known me as a mother knows a daughter. How else would ye have understood how perfect Bran is for me?”
Ina chuckled. “He’s the only man in the Highlands who could have tamed ye, Lady Glynis McKinnon. I knew that from the moment he tanned your naughty bottom in yer father’s hall.”
Glynis blushed at this, but also felt her pussy clench at the memory. She wonder if she would ever reconcile the fear she felt at her husband’s correction with the arousal just the thought of it gave her.
The door opened, and Bran looked from one woman to the other. “So are you to stand like hens clucking outside my door all evening, then?” he asked impatiently. “I’ve been away from ye far too long, wife. Make me wait much longer and yer nanny will see more than she likely wants to.”
“I can take a hint.” Ina put up her hands as she smiled and walked away. Laird Bran McKinnon took his wife’s hand and led her into his room.
“So,” she said. “We are finally alone.”
“That we are,” he replied. Glynis smiled, stepping boldly forward to undo his belt and remove his kilt. As it dropped to the floor, she reached under his shirt for his manhood and found it hard and ready. When he stayed her hand with a serious look, she was surprised.
“There’s a matter that needs attending to before we embark on a night of pleasure, lass.”
She fixed him with a quizzical look. “What could be more important than pleasure?”
“Correction.”
“Correction? Whatever for?”
He swept her up and carried her to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he spun her around and undid the lacing on her blue gown, which fell to her feet. When Bran turned her back to him, his eyes swept her body. The nipples of her high, pert breasts were already hard with excitement, the areolas so dusky pink against the whiteness of her skin that they looked painted on. Her waist was small, swelling into generously proportioned hips. At the apex of her thighs, the pouch of her cunny was soft pink and freshly shaved. He knew earlier in the day she’d been cleansed, and was ready for him—ready for what he had in store. She was so perfect, and his love for her suddenly overwhelmed him.
“I was wrong for nae listening when you came to me,” he said, realizing how close he’d come to losing her. “As yer laird, yer husband, and yer master, I’d have every right to punish ye for such rash actions.”
He almost smiled at how bravely she nodded at his statement.
“Aye,” she agreed. “Ye would, my laird. But if ye can accept that I’ll nae do it again, and allow me to show ye what a good lass I can be… I’m so sorry, my laird husband.” Glynis slid from his lap to sink between his legs. Without waiting for his permission, she took his cock in her mouth and began to nurse the head in her small mouth, her tongue flicking the tender underside until he groaned. Bran watched, mesmerized as the redhead bobbed up and down on his thick shaft. She was so intense in her attention that her mouth made a popping sound when he pulled her off.
“Ye can do that later,” he said. “I’ve other places to spend my seed tonight. New places. Secret places.”
Glynis felt a tinge of fear. Before her abduction, he’d been regularly stretching her ass with the specially made wax tapers, and the excitement she’d gained from his efforts had been so intense at times to be overwhelming. She dreamed of taking his cock in her bottom, of giving him this last part of her. Even now, her pussy dripped at the thought of having him use her so, of lifting her hips in submission, of the strength she would have to show to endure the stretch in her passage. But she wanted it. She was ready.
“I am here for your pleasure, my laird, my Bran,” she said.
He groaned in reply, his mouth moving to her breasts, the tugging of her nipples between his teeth so intense that she was sure she’d have lost footing had he not held her fast. He turned Glynis, laying her on the bed and spreading her legs wide. He could see the folds of her pussy like delicate butterfly wings opening to reveal the hood over a clitoris already exposed and engorged with excitement. He dipped his head down, running his tongue up her slit until it rested on the sensitive nub. Catching it in a sucking bite, he drew gently on it until Glynis wound her hands in his hair and screamed his name.
He could wait no more. Bran rose up and sunk into her, burying himself in her pussy as he rode the final waves of her first powerful orgasm. He moved in and out of her with powerful strokes, willing himself to withhold his own fulfillment, knowing it would be all the sweeter for her and him when he expended it taking her final virginity.
It was time. He pulled out, flipped her over, and spread her bottom cheeks apart enough to force the little hole slightly open. Bran stood and reached for a pot
“Are ye ready?” he asked.
She thrust her hips up in answer, and he pushed the huge head of his cock against her rosebud, watching as she pushed back and strained to relax her tight ring of muscles. She moaned and gripped the covers as he slipped in, slowly, slowly.
“Bear up, lass,” he said, watching with growing excitement as her body received him inch by methodical inch. He wondered for a moment if she could take all of him, but when he reached beneath Glynis to stroke her clit, she pushed back against him, pushing him in further.
“Ach, yer killin’ me, lass!” he said, amazed at the softness of this heretofore unexplored passage, the way the ring gripped and stretched to accept him at the same time. She was so unbelievably tight.
“Oh, I think… I think…” Could it be possible? Glynis felt so full. The entry had not been painful, but the stretching of her bottom was a sensation unlike anything she’d ever endured. It was an arousing kind of ache, and with his finger on her clit she could feel herself starting to come. When the dam of her passion broke, it was the most powerful she’d ever experienced, and accompanied by waves of pleasure pain as the cock now lodged firmly in her ass pumped its seed deep inside of her. Their mutual cries resounded off the walls of the laird’s bedchamber.
When Bran finally withdrew, it was with the same careful slowness. He looked down, watching his seed slip from Glynis’ bottom hole as it closed up again like a secret doorway. Leaning down, he kissed her gently on her back, murmuring words of enduring love.
Later he joined her in a tub he had filled especially for the purpose. As Glynis leaned her head back against the side, she looked him in the eye.
“Are ye sure you still want a child wife?” she asked. “You nae have to skelp me to make me mind, nor do ye have to keep me in the nursery with Ina while you go about McKinnon business. I could even give you children if that is your desire. I love you that much, Bran, enough to give you anything you want.”
He chuckled. “And that’s exactly why things must remain as they are,” he said, pulling her against his muscular chest. “You’re not just any Highlander’s lass, Glynis. You’re mine, and I intend to be greedy with yer affections for the rest of our lives. There will be no swaying me on that.” He scowled. “Unless, of course, yer wantin’ another spanking.”
She grinned. “Perhaps later, my laird. Perhaps later.”
The End
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More Stormy Night Books by Ava Sinclair
The Marshal’s Little Girl
When a young woman calling herself Wilhelmina James shows up at his town’s horse auction unescorted with a lot of sass and a lot of cash, Gage Chandler instantly gets a bad feeling about her. He’s about to blow the small town of Red Horse Gulch to join the US Marshal’s office, and this mysterious visitor is a headache he doesn’t need. After he agrees to check out the pretty blonde stranger to appease a local rancher left angry at being outbid, what Gage finds out about Wilhelmina quickly confirms that she is up to no good. But when she gives him the slip and goes on the run it changes both of their lives forever.
Once he catches up with the little firebrand, it isn’t long before she is over his knee for a hard spanking. As the sexual tension between marshal and outlaw reaches a fever pitch, Gage finds that Wilhelmina’s deep need for submission meshes with his own buried desire to completely dominate a woman, and soon enough he has taken her as much more than just his prisoner.
But Gage soon learns that his captive has a secret. Wilhelmina doesn’t just want to be his woman, she wants to be his little girl. She needs his love, his care, and his firm hand applied to her bare bottom when she is naughty. Though Gage is ready to oblige, the west is a harsh and dangerous place for a woman, even with a hardened lawman like him by her side. Can he keep Wilhelmina safe, or will the shadow of her past prove impossible to escape?
Ava Sinclair Links
You can keep up with Ava Sinclair via her blog, her Facebook page, and her Goodreads profile, using the following links:
https://sexysinclair.wordpress.com/
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Table of Contents
Chapter One: A Hard Man, but a Good One
Chapter Two: A Bonny Wee Wildcat
Chapter Three: The First Comeuppance
Chapter Four: Wedded to the Laird
Chapter Five: His Lady Bairn
Chapter Six: Preparing Her Pretty Bottom
Chapter Seven: The Laird’s Correction
Chapter Eight: A Cunning Trap
Chapter Nine: The Laird’s Regret
Chapter Ten: A Wildcat Fights Back
Chapter Eleven: Highlander’s Prize
More Stormy Night Books by Ava Sinclair
Ava Sinclair Links
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