Janet laughed. “Cunt-struck, pet?”
“Aye. Only one other…so perfect.”
“Then feast.”
At the first flick of her husband’s tongue across her aching pearl, such a jolt of sensation raced through Marjorie’s body that she jerked and moaned. But with his huge hands resting on her thighs, and Janet cupping her breasts and kissing her neck, she was a willing captive. Then he dragged his tongue again and again from her pearl to her back entrance, pausing only to push his tongue inside her and coat it with the honey trickling from her center. With each movement his short beard rasped her inner thighs, and the contrast of gentle and rough was so delicious she couldn’t help the bucking of her hips in an attempt to get closer or the choked cries escaping her lips. A little more…just a little more…
All at once he pressed hard on her pearl with his thumb and drove his tongue deep inside her, hurling her over the edge into a storm of bliss. Fortunately Janet had the foresight to muffle her scream of pleasure with a firm hand; otherwise every servant in the manor would have come running.
Lachlan inhaled shakily and licked his lips. “Again.”
Even in the foggy mist of pleasure aftermath, that seemed wrong. She was soaking wet, had been carefully prepared for his cock, was ready and eager to feel him inside her…and he did not enter her? It was plainly obvious he wanted to. His manhood bobbed against his abdomen, hard and thick, a little pearly seed dampening the tip. She could see the need in his eyes, the strain at holding back.
Perplexed, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why are you denying me your cock? Why are you denying yourself?”
Color darkened his cheeks. “You aren’t quite ready.”
Marjorie frowned. “Beg pardon?” she replied, affronted. She most certainly was ready!
Janet cleared her throat. “I know you mean well, pet, but that is for your wife, not you, to decide. Besides, a cunt is most robust. It is made to stretch. Now, do get on with your husbandly duty.”
He glanced at Marjorie, his expression rueful. “Forgive me.”
She grinned mischievously. “Only if you fuck me. Is that plain enough?”
Lachlan did smile then, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Aye, lady wife. Most plain.”
Moments later he took his length in hand and rubbed the head against her slick center. Then, he began to penetrate her.
Marjorie gasped at the stretch, the overwhelming feeling of fullness, and winced at the brief stinging pain as he eased his cock in. But when he settled into an easy rhythm of advance and retreat, pushing his cock in before slowly easing out, it felt better, then much better, then very, very good. Deciding then and there that Lachlan moved with entirely too much caution, she dug her heels into the bed and thrust upward, embedding him fully inside her.
A guttural groan tore from his throat as he thrust harder. “So hot…so tight…so good…”
“More,” said Marjorie greedily, her nails scratching his back, her legs locking tightly around his waist to hold him to her, desperate to reach the blissful release that teased her once again.
“Spend,” Janet commanded harshly.
She cried out as her inner walls clamped around Lachlan’s cock, and a wave of sensation sent her soaring to the stars, only made better by the sound of her husband’s low roar of ecstasy, the gush of his seed flooding deep inside her.
Indeed, a wedding bedding to remember.
Chapter Ten
The air was heavy with the scent of ecstasy, the sounds of gasping breaths and twitching bodies sliding across crisp linen sheets.
Janet smiled as Lachlan and Marjorie settled themselves on either side of her, glad they had the foresight to move so she wasn’t crushed beneath their combined weight. Her chamber—or more specifically, her bed—had become a sanctuary for forbidden lust, and although she well knew that sanctuary was an illusion…for the moment she would embrace the feeling of peace. Of gratitude that the bedding had gone so well, that she had been a part of it. Well, more than that. She had been in command of it.
“How are you both?” asked Janet. “After that important task.”
Marjorie cuddled closer, tucking her head into Janet’s shoulder even as she reached across and clasped Lachlan’s hand. “I am well. I couldn’t have hoped for a better first time. With you both. I feel…so fortunate. I mean…it hurt a little bit at first. Like a pinch. Then it didn’t. Lachlan moving helped the ache, but he moved too slow. So I…ah…helped him along.”
Janet couldn’t help but laugh. “You are impatient, dear one.”
“I know. ’Tis my flaw. Lachlan, I hope I didn’t hurt you with my fingernails.”
He looked briefly startled. “No. Not at all.”
“And you, Lachlan? Now you are a wedded and bedded husband?” said Janet.
He hesitated. “It was wonderful. But…”
“But?” said Marjorie, tensing. “What is the matter?”
Lachlan sighed and propped himself up on one elbow. “I must beg forgiveness. I did n-not ask your w-wishes. In spending, I mean. Outside or in.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you spend outside? You must do so in, so I might conceive a child. I would like a baby more than anything. Son or daughter, I do not mind. I have always wanted to be a mother, ever since I was a little girl, and now that I have a husband, it is right and proper to do so.”
Janet closed her eyes, trying not to flinch as each innocent arrow found its mark and ripped open a wound that refused to heal. Of course Marjorie and Lachlan should have a conversation about children. She had encouraged them to speak plainly of their desires and needs. But so soon, and in bed? She was ill prepared, without the armor of clothing or distance or an activity to distract. Here with two people she cared deeply for, she might not
