Going back on his heels, he pulls me up by my hair as I gasp, kneeling, with my back pressed against his hard chest. Fingers circle my clit, his other against my throat, pressing gently pushing my chin up so he can kiss me hard, demanding kisses suck the breath from me.
"Who do ye belong to?" It takes me a minute to register that he's asked me a question and he gives my clit a brisk slap with two rough fingers, the sting sharp and abrupt.
"Ah!" I gasp, "You, I belong to you."
"You're mine" he grunts into my neck. "Every part of ye, body and soul."
Grabbing his left hand, I put it on my stomach. "And you belong to me," I say, biting his lower lip. He chuckles, a wild, warrior-like chuckle as his thrusts speed up, nearly knocking me off my knees. The hard ball of his piercing, running a streak of fire through my channel.
"You're going to come with me," he rasps in my ear. "You're going to break apart. Crying and begging me to let ye come again. Do ye understand?"
He's pounding into me so hard now that it takes three tries to gasp back one single word, "Y- y- yes!"
"Good girl," he growls like the wolf he is. Pulling out of me, he flips me over and his mouth fastens over my center again, driving his tongue up inside me before spreading my legs wide. He pushes a finger inside me, and then to my shock, his slick and glistening cock.
The stretch is obscene.
Unbearable.
Wildly fucking arousing and I can't stop my first orgasm from barreling up and taking me over as my hands slap against his shoulders, fingernails digging in, trying to keep myself from flying apart into a thousand pieces.
"There she is, my greedy, wet slut, my good girl," he says, his voice so deep that it ripples across my sensitive skin, sending up a spray of goosebumps in its wake.
This harsh, wild stranger, slips his hands between us, tugging roughly on my clitoris and the shock of it makes me scream. "Look at us."
Glancing down, I see his finger pushing into me with his cock, and I slap my hand over my eyes. The burn and bite is outrageous, my opening stretched tight, making my thighs shake and my toes curl.
"Ye will watch me, butterfly," he orders hoarsely. "Ye will take all of me and ye will ask for more. Do ye want to come?"
"Yes, please," I managed to gasp.
"Ach, such good manners," he says with a cruel smile, green eyes blazing, enjoying my shock. He forces in another finger, and now the stretch is unimaginable. His fingers are pressing against my slick walls, his cock driving up and everything is on fire inside me.
He's a fucking savage, pounding into me, stretching me painfully. "Does it hurt?" he says with utterly false concern.
"You know it does," I moan. "It's too much!"
"Oh no, love," he says. "It hurts. But no more than ye can handle. No more than ye can endure." His hips slow for a moment.
"Your safe word is red. I will stop the moment ye say it. But if ye dinnae speak it…" His next thrust makes his fingers curl against my slick walls.
"I'm going to fill ye full. You'll count with me and on five, ye are going to come, screaming and kicking, and if ye dinnae do it, ye won't come at all."
Who is this Michael? More savage than usual, untamed, and powerful, forcing me into positions I'd never imagined.
I know he means what he says so when he counts, I tighten my legs around his back, barely holding on.
He barely breaks stride as he pulls his from inside me, shiny and wet with my slick and they drive into my ass.
"Michael!"
"Hush, butterfly, unless ye want to say your word."
More stretch, more pain, more heat. I realize he's stopped, though. Cock inside me, fingers in my ass, but he's stopped, waiting to see if I'll say the word. Red. When I don't say it, he counts down, hips moving again.
"One… two… three… four…"
I scream before he can barely get the word "five" out of his mouth.
I scream like I'm being electrocuted, like lightning sizzling through every cell in my body, lighting me up, making me glow and burn.
There's nothing left of me but this fiery thing that he's created and I come, incinerated, overpowered, and I have never come like this, something that takes over all of me.
I feel his fingers pressed hard, stroking against his cock, separated by only a thin barrier between my ass and my pussy.
The thought that he's getting himself off with his fingers is so filthy that when he detonates, I come with him again, staring up as he tilts his head to the ceiling and roars like the warrior he is.
Much later…
To-do list:
Recover the use of my legs.
Talk about the baby.
Plan happily ever after.
The tub water has cooled twice since we've been in here but since I can't seem to move, my husband keeps adding more warm water, wrapping his thick arms around me.
"This is nice," I mumble sleepily. "Why have we never taken a bath before?"
His chest moves under my cheek as he chuckles. "Whenever ye like, my Sophie love."
"I love you," I say, kissing the snarling wolf on his chest. "I always have."
"And I love ye, my wife, my butterfly." He strokes my cheek. "Even when I was cold. It was more than wanting ye when we got married. It was love, even when I couldn't admit it to myself."
"Well, apparently everyone else knew," I chuckle, stretching my sore legs. "Or so they keep telling me."
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, these people," he snarls. "If one more cousin gloats that they always knew, I'm going to punch them in the throat."
I always knew, gloats Jordan.
Oh, shut up.
"So, I was thinking…"
Tender Michael has returned and he's seated me on his lap, brushing my now-dry hair.
"Aye?"
"I'd like to wait until we're out of the first trimester to tell anyone that we're pregnant," I say, unsure whether this new reality will change us. "Maybe just our parents first?"
"We need to schedule your first appointment with the doctor," he says, expression set and focused like he's laying out a new battle plan. "An ultrasound. Begin planning the nursery, the guest room next to the master is the right choice. Then-"
"Hold up, seriously, just hold up a second," I laugh, turning and curling up on his lap so that I can look up at him. "Um, there's one thing we have to deal with first."
"Which is?"
"The Lady Elspeth." A shiver runs down my spine.
Mom, Miss Mala, and I had already had one planning meeting with the matriarch and just the ominous phrasing of, "The future Chieftain's wedding must be a statement of the power of the clan…
" started freaking me out. "Your grandmother is already gearing up for the wedding of the century, you being the future Chieftain. Do you think maybe she'd be willing to hold off a bit until we have the baby?
I really don't want to go wobbling down the aisle and have my water break while we're saying I do.'"
"That happened to Uncle Cameron, actually," he says. "Aunt Morana went into labor at their wedding ceremony." He must see my horrified expression because he laughs, wrapping his arms around me.
"We will, no doubt, end up making our own series of dramatic misadventures in life that will serve as cautionary tales for future MacTavishes." He kisses me, lovingly, lips gentle on mine.
"But we will make them on our schedule, and no one else's.
So we'll start with making sure your pregnancy is a healthy one, and I'm sure Dr. MacTavish…
" he frowns. "Which MacTavish is the O&G?"
Laughing, I recall the conversation I had with Maisie. "Dr. Fiona MacTavish. Thank the lord your family has a MacTavish physician for any specific branch of medicine."
Settling back against the pillows and putting me back on his lap, Michael's fingers lightly stroke my breasts. "I wonder…"
"About?" I look up at him, trying to ignore that my nipples are stiffening.
"If we by chance are having twins," he murmurs speculatively, "that could give us nearly double the grace period before the wedding madness could begin. And by some miracle, triplets? We could hold this off for years."
"Hey!" I say, wiggling madly, trying to get off his lap. "Hey, hey hey! No! No triplets!"
He pins me down, laughing. "We could just start with one."
"Yeah," I breathe a sigh of relief. "One is good."