Wicked Passions (Highland Menage Book 1) by Nicola Davidson

Author:Nicola Davidson [Davidson, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-12T18:30:00+00:00

Much like a diamond, Isla had many sides. The cool-headed swordfighter. The impish mischief maker. The courageous woman navigating the treacherous waters of a world made for wealthy men as best she could. But this day he and Alastair had seen a new one…

The submissive lover.

Callum had greatly enjoyed licking Isla to a screaming release in their previous lesson, and sucking Alastair’s cock in front of her had only heightened his arousal. Neither could compare to this, though: he and his squire working together to pleasure her. The way they had teased her with words, with touch…he’d felt closer to them both. As though they truly could exist as three rather than a forced choice of two.

Callum’s breath caught.

Isla and Alastair in his heart and in his bed? And all delighted to be there?

Even the thought made his cock throb, and he bit back a groan, needing release more than he needed food to sustain him.

On the chaise Isla trembled a little, and they removed their hands from her body. She turned onto her back, and Callum drank in the glorious sight of her flushed skin, swollen nipples, and wet cunt, pleased she did not move to cover herself.

Eventually she blinked at them with dazed eyes. “I think my name is Isla.”

He smiled. “’Tis a pretty name. Rare and precious. Is there a story behind it?”

Isla stretched like a cat and pointed her toes. “No heartfelt tale, I’m afraid. My grandfather was Lord of the Isles, and my family sought to flatter him. A wasted effort, considering the king seized the estates and title when I was nine.”

“I still like it. Almost as much as you soundly conquering Alastair with your sword.”

“Ha,” said his squire. “I am quite certain, my laird, that I could conquer you with my sword.”

Callum moaned. Usually Alastair called him laird, but sometimes in tender or lusty moments it was my laird; not a term of deference, but possession. It both warmed his soul and aroused him to the point of pain. Yet in the freedom and privacy of this cottage, he desired so much more. To have that ownership demonstrated in full measure, not just with words or hands or mouth, but Alastair’s cock buried deep inside him. “Please,” he said hoarsely, the way he’d begged that long ago night. “Please.”

Isla sat up and bit her lip. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to fuck Callum,” said Alastair bluntly. “We’ll retire to the bedchamber.”

“But I want to watch,” she whispered. “Not spy…watch. Like when he sucked your cock. May I?”

Alastair turned to him. “Can she?”

Callum shuddered as his cock jerked. “Yes.”

“Then we’ll fuck here, on this chaise. Isla, kneel on that cushion for the best view. Come here, Callum, so I might undress you.”

Never had he thought undressing to be an act of torment until this day. The removal of his shirt and hose, his shoes and stockings, each took a thousand years as Alastair stroked and licked each newly revealed part of his body.

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