Smoothing my palm very softly down her stomach, my fingertips barely slide under the cotton panties. One of her thighs rises lazily, her knee tilting toward me and she lets out a sigh. Her lashes rest on her high cheekbones in a thick fan, and her mouth is slightly open.
Lightly sweeping my calloused fingertips over her silky skin, I watch her wake up, drowsily surveying the room before her eyes turn to me. Propping my head up on my hand, I try to smile. A pleasant, good morning smile versus the filthy, knowing grin that wants to take over my face.
“How do you feel this morning, my wife?”
“Better,” she answers warily. “I cannot help but notice that your fingers are sliding into my underwear.”
“I only want to make sure there’s no lingering soreness,” I offer solicitously, “what kind of husband would I be if I wasn’t concerned for your health?”
“My health. Really.” She cracks up and the sight of her laughter is the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen.
“I can make you feel much, much better,” I offer, slowly making my way down her body, stopping to kiss between her breasts for a moment.
“And how would you do that?” Isla puts her hand behind her head, watching my progression.
“First, we dispense with this useless thing…” I pull down her panties to her ankles. “Then, I do this…” I have to block her thighs trying to close by pushing my shoulders between them, but my first long, greedy lick makes my wife moan. “Such a good girl,” I praise her. “Be noisy for your husband. Show me what you like.”
I lick her again, then circle my tongue around her clit.
“That’s pretty good,” she offers in a small voice.
“Mm-hmm,” I hum into her pussy, gently biting one lip and then the other, sucking them into my mouth.
“Oh!” Her thigh flexes, “That’s really good, too.”
“And this?” Sliding two fingers inside her and curling them, I rub against her inner walls while sucking her clit.
“Sweet Mary and all the Saints!”
Isla dragged her feet, getting ready for dinner at my parent’s estate, and I’m wishing I’d suggested another place, Cormac’s perhaps. Revisiting the scene of her crime has to be acutely uncomfortable for her.
We’re back in the helicopter and I put her hand on my leg. I like her touching me, and after getting her off this morning, I’ve been hard all day. This is as close as I’m going to get until after dinner. My days of sneaking girls into the mansion for a quickie are over.
“Your parents hate me,” she says, “why would they want me anywhere near their home?”
“You don’t know my mother,” I sigh, “The Lady Elspeth is a force of nature. I know she’s very curious about you. Our families’ relationship may be complicated, but you are a MacTavish now. You are part of our family, too.”
Her fingers tighten on my thigh, and she nods reluctantly. “Thank you.”
When we arrive at the mansion, my wife reacts to the shouting of my brothers and crying and laughing toddlers very well, looking around the great hall with a little smile.
“There’s so many of you MacTavish’s,” she whispers.
“Don’t worry, wife,” I murmur, kissing her forehead, “you’ll get used to the madness. Until then, just stay close to me.” She looks up with what looks like trust in her eyes, and I can’t resist kissing her.
Ma is first to approach her, putting her hands on her shoulders, and looking at Isla very closely. “You look like your mother,” she finally says, “she was very beautiful, too. But you have your father’s eyes.”
“Did you know my mother?” Isla asks.
Ma’s iron hold on her social smile doesn’t falter, but I see something shift in her eyes. “I did. I wish I’d had a chance to know her better.”
Pressing her lips together, my wife nods with wet eyes. “I wish I had, too.”
Squeezing her hands, Ma smiles, “Come, meet the rest of the family.”
As expected, all the woman took to Isla immediately, spiriting her away from me, Sorcha promising to tell her, “All the really awful bits about Dougal.”
Little shite.
