In which there is so much sex.
Morana…
They’ve barely closed our car door when Cameron is mauling me like a starved bear, and I attack him in return. I’m grateful there’s a privacy screen rising between us and a stone-faced Hamish, who is desperately trying to keep his eyes away from the rearview mirror.
“I was plannin’ a romantic seduction moment back at the hotel,” Cameron groans in my ear.
“We can do that too,” I agree, sliding my fingers into his silky hair and gripping it. “But I have a lot of good feelings toward you right now.”
Sliding between his legs and kneeling on the floor, my hands go to his belt buckle before he stops me. “Ya’ don’t have to do this, wife.”
“I… probably won’t be any good at it,” I admit, “but I want to.”
“You’re killin’ me,” he groans, ripping his pants open and raising his hips to help me pull down his boxer briefs.
“Was it always this big?” I blurt, cringing when he tries to smother his chuckle. Somehow, seeing him up close is different than on Facetime, where he’s lured me into doing all sorts of naughtiness on our nightly calls. My husband is huge; thick and hot, and it’s throbbing softly in my hand.
“Tighten your hand,” he urges, “squeeze it.”
I do, and my tongue comes out to lick up the pearl that beads from the tip. He tastes sharp, feels silky on my tongue. Cameron always smells good, but here where I couldn’t be closer to him, he smells… warm. He smells like how warm would feel, and for a girl with chilly Russian blood, it’s the most luxurious of things.
His groan is so rewarding that I do it again, and stretch my lips around him, my tongue sliding along the bottom of him and feeling the vein pulsing there. This is so abruptly, intensely erotic that my other hand makes its way between my legs, pushing against my undies, feeling them getting wet.
With another deep breath through my nose, I push harder, feeling him against the back of my throat and choke a bit, pulling back. When I suck him back in, I’m prepared and concentrate on the feel of him, the weight, and how hot he is. Squeezing experimentally, I enjoy his groan and try it again while I suck on him harder. I’m aware of how wet and messy it sounds, the spit and pre-cum leaking from the corners of my mouth but when Cameron swipes a finger along my jaw and collects it, I swear he gets harder.
“You’re so feckin’ beautiful,” he growls. His hands are under my arms and I’m abruptly lifted to straddle him. “Such a bad girl,” he whispers diabolically, “your fingers in that pretty little pussy. But it belongs to me, and you’ll come on my cock or you won’t come at all.”
He rips my undies off as I yelp, and the head of his shaft is just inside me and he grins, squeezing my ass. “Slide down, lass. As slow or fast as ye’ like. Ride me. Use my cock until you come.”
He’s so wet from me, and I’m shockingly slick and we both moan as I push down on him hard, clear to the base of him, feeling his piercing rubbing my clitoris. “Just- give me a moment,” I wheeze.
“Take your time,” he grunts, “Hamish will circle the feckin’ hotel until we’re done.”
This makes me giggle, which rubs the piercing harder against me and oh, I’m embarrassed to be coming so fast, him throbbing inside me like a thick spike, our mouths together and breath mingling. My back arches as I come with a hoarse cry, fingers digging into his pristine white shirt and hearing his guttural chuckle.
“Just like that, my beautiful, filthy wife.”
He gives me a second or two to catch my breath, then thrusts viciously up, shoving his shaft up into me, his hands gripping my ass tighter to push me down. It hurts, he’s at the top of my channel, with nowhere else to go but he keeps pounding into me.
“I’ll make it fit,” he says, biting my neck, “I’ll shape your cunt to fit only me, I’ll fuck you until not having me inside is painful, too empty.” Cameron pulls out, then slams back in again. “You are fucking built for me, sweet wife.” His hands slide to my waist, yanking me even farther onto his dick. “So perfect, love. So snug.”
When he finally erupts inside me, I convulse, coming again and clamping down hard on him. He’s right, I want to keep him inside me forever.
The sound of our harsh breaths finally brings me back to some kind of awareness of our surroundings. “Where are we?” I mumble, burrowing into his warm chest.
“On the fifth or sixth loop of the hotel, I’m thinking,” he chuckles. He gently lifts me off him and helps me tidy up, pocketing my torn undies with a little wink. I want to glare at him but I’m feeling dangerously soft after those two orgasms.
Much later, after Cameron has reinforced my earlier two orgasms with three more, he’s holding me up in the shower, washing my back.
“We’re three-times married,” I sigh, “I guess there’s no running away now.”
“Plus, you know you’d miss that thing I do with my tongue,” he agrees.
He cups my face, kissing me, and when I put my hands over his, I feel the swelling.
“Wait, what happened here?” Gently holding his wrists, I see more tally marks like the ones I’d been so alarmed by when he first kidnapped me. There are twenty new tattooed marks, fresh against the reddened skin on his right wrist, and two on his left. “What is this?”
I’m so used to seeing grinning, smart-assed Cameron that his somber expression is jolting. “These are the men I’ve killed in service to the MacTavish Clan,” he says, holding up his right hand. Showing me his left wrist, he lets me touch the marks gently. “And these are for the clansmen I have lost.”
