His Scottish Pet: Dom of the Ages (10 page)

BOOK: His Scottish Pet: Dom of the Ages
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The look of love she gave him was disarming. The girl really did have an uncommon pull on his heart—one he had not allowed himself to experience in a long, long time. It was both invigorating and alarming. With great love came great loss. It was inevitable.

He sat back and watched her bathe, enjoying the look of her smooth skin, the pertness of her young breasts, the delicate curve of her long neck. It was markedly different from the first time she had bathed in the washtub, clutching her chest with her crazy hair poking every which way. It astounded him how much had changed between them, despite his best efforts to keep her at bay, and now he was getting married to her.

Life never ceased to amaze him, even after many lifespans.

He dried her off when she was done and carried her to the bed, laying Chrisselle down gently. “Now it is my turn to claim my wife. No other man will touch you after this. I will not allow it.”

She beamed.

“To mark this new beginning, there is something I must do.” He opened her legs, putting the soles of her feet together so that she was spread wide. He did not explain as he dipped his hands in the tepid bath water and lathered his hands. He returned to her and covered her mound with the suds, then he retrieved his knife and began the delicate work of shaving her. It took an exorbitant amount of time, but he was in no hurry. The ritual was necessary.

Chrisselle gasped as the blade scraped across her sensitive skin, but she did not twitch. When he was finished, he rinsed her off and dried her bare mound. He touched it reverently. “Tonight marks our beginning as husband and wife. What happened in the past is no longer. This is about me taking you as my virginal bride… whole and untouched.”

She blinked away the tears in her eyes as she nodded in understanding. He lay down beside her and traced her feminine curves with his fingers. He truly saw her as his untouched bride, caressing her skin with sensual wonderment. It was soft, smooth and virginal in its white color. The rosy pink of her nipples spoke to her innocence, and her naked womanhood of her youth.

“You are beautiful, Chrisselle, my pet,” he whispered.

She looked at him with renewed devotion. The power of her given name was something Ryce understood well. She would forever remain his pet, but as wife she would become so much more.

He lightly grazed her pink lips and watched her shudder from the ticklish feel of it. “Kiss me, wife.”

She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against him as she complied with his command. Her kiss was tentative and tender. He pressed her closer and she responded by darting her tongue in his mouth. He growled under his breath, wanting to encourage her lustful nature. He was taking a virgin, yes, but he desired a responsive and passionate woman.

“Everything about you is perfect,” he murmured, as he played with her red locks. “Your hair is like the sun, and your eyes… a place I long to get lost into.” He kissed each eyelid.

Ryce lightly touched her erect nipples, teasing them. “Their roseate color invites the attention of my tongue.” He leaned over and gently bit her left nipple before sucking on it and he was rewarded with her gasp.

It was an invitation to feel between her legs. Of course, she was moist with need. Ryce kissed her flat stomach, caressing her thighs, building up the anticipation of his tongue on her bare mound. He commented, “You are filling out to be a curvaceous woman.” He trailed his hands over her hips. “I can’t help but want to take you every time you bend over. That shapely ass calls to my cock. I find laundry day especially tempting.”

She giggled. “I never knew, Master.”

“I am a man of discipline,” he growled into her ear.

Ryce gazed at her mound, admiring its naked look. “My pet, your womanhood is pure perfection in taste and appearance.” He settled down between her legs. Her mound was the color of a blushing rose glistening with dew. Ryce took a long lick of it. She responded by mewing, which caused his cock to stiffen further. Her lips were swollen with her lust, beckoning him to partake of her depths.

He concentrated on her erect nodule, pulling back the hood to lavish his attention on it. She bucked her hips at the intensity of the stimulation, so he held her down and whispered, “Relax.”

Chrisselle lay back on the bed, and he felt the tension of her muscles ease. She was such an obedient pet. He flicked his tongue against her smooth pearl, noting the jolts of sensation he incited by her uncontrolled twitching. It was entertaining, but his desire for her was causing an uncomfortable ache in his groin.

He crawled up between her legs and kissed her lips as the head of his cock pressed against her wet opening. “Time to accept me as your husband.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “It is my honor.”

Ryce pushed into her hot sex slowly, as if he was taking her as his virginal bride. This was not about using her for his pleasure, this was a connection of souls, a physical representation of their commitment. “You are fully pleasing to me, wife,” he said as he pushed into her depths. She was tight and moist, encompassing the entire length of his shaft.

Her breath was quick, her arousal easy to discern, but it was love that shone in her eyes.

Ryce began stroking her firm walls with his cock. “You are mine.”

The two moved as one as they made love to one another. It was tender, emotional, and hot as Hades. Ryce looked into her moss-colored eyes as he allowed himself to come inside her after decades of denying himself the pleasure. His balls contracted as the powerful release of his seed burst forth.

Chrisselle cried out as if she could feel the heat of it.

His cock pumped load after load deep inside his bride, overwhelming what remained of the Baron’s seed. Ryce’s entire body shuddered from the monumental release, from his shoulders down to his toes. He groaned loudly from the strength of it. Afterwards, he slowly pulled out and collapsed on her.

It took him a moment to realize she was crying. He brushed away the tears with his thumb. “What is wrong, pet?”

“Master… husband, you are inside me.” She ran her hands over her pelvis lovingly as if she could feel his seed within her.

“Yes, my pet,” he said, kissing her on the lips. “Consider yourself claimed.”

She smiled. “I am yours forever, Master.”

“Aye.”

He lay beside her and stared up at the roof of his cottage. He’d broken his cardinal rule not to release his seed inside a woman, but tonight had been a unique circumstance. Ryce could not allow that piss of a man to father a child, even if that meant the unwelcomed chance of fathering one of his own.

Ryce stared into her radiant eyes. “I love you for more than your beautiful face, pleasing body, and obedient heart.” He lightly caressed the side of her face. “Your strong spirit astounds me. Having been through so much in your young life, you still possess a positive temperament and have not let the wrongs of the past define you.”

“Master…”

He put his fingers to her lips. “You may call me by my given name tonight, Chrisselle.”

She blushed as she pronounced his name for the first time. “Ryce… I have always known I was destined to find a powerful man like my father. Waiting for you helped me during the black days.”

His laughter was a low, sweet rumble as he recalled how frightened and emaciated she had been when he first encountered her. “You did not appear to know your Master when we met that first day, my tiny waif.”

“I was blind… Ryce. I was going to run that night. You were not part of the plan.”

“But you wouldn’t have made it far in your condition,” he stated somberly.

“What did it matter? I would have died free.”

Ryce nodded in understanding. “Yes, there is great worth in freedom.” He looked at her gravely. “You have the courage of a lion, Chrisselle. Worthy of the name Leon.”

She broke into an enchanting smile. “Thank you.”

“Are you ready to be my wife?”

“I have been since the day you hand-fed me back to health. I knew then I would deny you nothing.”

“Why is that, Chrisselle?”

“You are my destiny.”

He felt a soul-shiver. It was disconcerting to think there was such a thing as fate, for if that was the case his future was decided—a reality he could not accept. Yet looking into the depth of her eyes he felt at peace, as if everything had lined up to create this moment in time.

Chrisselle

The elderly priest came early the next day, wanting to get the inconvenient task behind him. Chrisselle stayed in the cottage to ready herself. She had dressed in her only remaining tartan, the lovely green having been bloodied during his accident months ago. However, she wore the red tartan proudly and had taken great care with her hair.
She needn’t have bothered
, he thought. The glow in her eyes was all Ryce needed.

He wore his formal kilt of a similar pattern and strapped his impressive claymore on his back, in full Highland dress including jacket, dirk and sporran for the occasion. Chrisselle stood back to admire him. “Master, you are frighteningly handsome.”

He smiled at her roguishly. “Thank you, my pet.” Ryce motioned her to him. His hands unbuckled the leather collar around her neck. She gasped and whispered, “No…”

“As per the Baron’s request,” he replied, tucking it in the waist of his kilt.

He bent over and picked a sprig of white heather growing beside the cottage and tucked it behind her ear. “Now you are ready.”

A sweet flush colored her face. “Thank you, Master… Leon.”

“We are set to proceed,” Ryce announced to the priest, handing him a braided cord of red and white. “We have no rings.”

Ryce clasped Chrisselle’s hand and the withered old man bound them together. “May God be with you and bless you. May you see your children’s children. May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings. May you know nothing but happiness from this day forward.” The priest nodded to Ryce.

He looked down at his youthful bride. “I, Ryce Garrett Leon, now take you, Chrisselle Buchanan, to be my wife. In the presence of God and before this witness, I promise to be a loving, faithful and loyal husband to you, until God shall separate us by death.”

She gazed up into his eyes, radiant with joy. “I, Chrisselle Buchanan, now take you, Ryce Garrett Leon, to be my husband. In the presence of God and before this witness I promise to be a loving, faithful and loyal wife to you, until God shall separate us by death.”

The ancient man waddled to their cottage and began blessing it, while Ryce untied the cord. He asked her to turn around, placing it around her delicate neck and tying it so that it was comfortably snug against her throat. He leaned over and whispered, “Now we won’t draw attention to ourselves.”

She twisted around and kissed him on the lips.

He tasted the saltiness of her tears. “Why the tears?”

“My heart wants to burst with happiness.”

He chuckled and picked her up, carrying his bride over the threshold of his home as was tradition, just in time to see the priest blessing the marriage bed. Ryce put her down gently, kissing Chrisselle on the forehead.

The old man shuffled over to them when he was done. He held out his hand and Ryce quickly pressed coins into it. “Thank you, Father.”

The withered figure bowed slightly and left their home without another word.

Ryce smiled at his pet, now wife. “You are lawfully Chrisselle Ryce Leon.”

She gracefully bowed at his feet. “I am honored, Lord.”

“No, Chrisselle, never lord, only Master.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Today, I want you to call me Ryce.”

Her eyes grew wide and she blushed deeply. Her submissive nature made it a challenge for her and it pleased him.

“It is my intention to introduce you to the community today. I do not want rumors or doubts surrounding our unexpected union. It is very important to me.”

“Yes, that would be verra nice,” she said eagerly.

He suspected she was anxious to connect with others. His carnal needs could wait until they returned from their outing. “I will saddle Eventide and we will head out.” Ryce walked to the barn to the nickering welcome of his friend.

He got out the metal comb and began brushing the thick midnight mane, desiring that they all make an impression that day. While he worked the knots out, he joked with his steed. “Yes, I have made my life as complicated as possible. I think you suspected it from the beginning.” Ryce slapped his muscular shoulder good-naturedly. “Still… she makes a fine partner.”

He started on the tail. Eventide lifted his foot threateningly when Ryce tried to brush through a particularly difficult knot of hair and twigs. “Don’t even think of it,” he warned. “If you weren’t so careless where you walked, you wouldn’t have weeds in your tail.”

The horse threw back his head several times in complaint, but his hoof remained on the ground. Once Eventide was thoroughly combed, Ryce cinched the saddle and stood back to admire his work. Eventide was an impressive beast, with his toned equine flesh, dark grey coat and long black mane and tail. However, it was his intelligence and fearless spirit that made the animal truly remarkable.

Ryce went to the chest in the back of the barn and retrieved some coins for the day’s festivities before calling Chrisselle to join him. He smirked when she weaved heather in Eventide’s mane.

“Ah, you look properly domestic,” Ryce informed his stallion.

Eventide rubbed his cheek against Chrisselle in a gesture of acceptance. It appeared his steed didn’t mind looking ‘pretty’ for her sake. Ryce whispered into his closest velvet ear, “She seems to have you under the same spell. Welcome to the club, old man.”

Ryce helped Chrisselle onto Eventide and climbed up behind her. It was a pleasant morning with the crisp Highland air and clear skies. He wrapped one arm around her waist and guided the reins with the other. Chrisselle trembled in his arms, excited at the prospect of meeting others.

He headed to Avril’s. Ryce wanted her to be the first to know. He held the woman in high esteem and did not want her to hear it from another. Ryce also trusted that her open spirit would allow her to accept the new situation between he and Chrisselle.

Avril was more than a little surprised to discover that he was recently married and that Chrisselle was the woman she had sewn the dresses for. Luckily, his young bride’s enthusiasm for Avril’s seamstress skills disarmed her reservations.

Avril shared with Chrisselle her love of her craft and the two were soon talking like sisters as she demonstrated the process. Ryce leaned against the door and listened to them with amusement. Eventually, their conversations moved on to more serious topics as the two shared their difficult childhoods. Ryce had to cut it short when they began discussing his influence on them, not enjoying the sense of discomfort their praises wrought.

“We have many households to visit today and must be going.”

Avril appeared distraught when they readied to leave. “Please come visit soon, Avril,” Chrisselle begged.

Avril glanced at Ryce to see his reaction. He nodded and replied, “You would be welcomed.”

“It would be grand for Master Leon and I to entertain you,” Chrisselle added.

Ryce wondered if his new bride understood the image her words conjured up. He shifted himself on the saddle so it wouldn’t be so readily apparent. He turned Eventide towards the MacPherson farm next.

It appeared that the Baron had already informed the MacPhersons of the nuptials, and because of that word had spread quickly. At every house, Ryce made sure to throw coins to the children in accordance with an old wedding tradition. It helped to soften the villagers’ sentiments concerning their oddly secretive marriage. However, it was Chrisselle’s endearing personality that won people’s hearts over.

Near the end of the day, his pet was chattering on and on about the different families she’d met. Everyone had been hospitable to them except Kegan, their last stop.

His temporary sex slave had taken the news hard, giving them a chilly reception. She was not pleased when Ryce tossed coins to her eager brood. He refused to deal with her jealousy, and thanked her for keeping silent about Chrisselle before abruptly leaving.

On his way out, Kegan said, “I care nothing for her; however, I still crave time with you.” Then she added in an intimate whisper, “I will
always
be available for you… Master.”

He reminded her coolly, “Your treatment of my wife determines our future relationship.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Then I suppose we have none,
Lord
Leon.” Kegan swished her attractive ass as she turned away and sauntered back to her offspring.

Ryce shook his head. Did she really think her feminine wiles would make up for her brazen lack of respect?

He looked skyward and saw dark ominous clouds swirling above them. “Come, wife, we must return home.” He pushed Eventide, but they were soon pelted by cold raindrops whipping about in the fierce winds. What made it far worse was the intense lightning and thunder. A lesser horse would have panicked and dumped his riders when a strike hit close by, but his stallion ignored his own welfare. By the time they made it safely to the barn, all three were chilled to the bone.

Ryce commanded Chrisselle to go and start a fire before undressing completely. He took care of Eventide, drying off his courageous steed. “I can always rely on you, old friend. Too bad I can’t invite you in to sit by the fire and share some spirits with me.”

Eventide snorted and hit Ryce in the gut playfully.

“I suppose an extra helping of feed is more appreciated.” He laid a blanket over the stallion’s back and left a generous portion of food. He ran to the cottage amidst crashing thunder and pelting rain. When he slammed the door behind him, he found a large fire roaring pleasantly and Chrisselle kneeling beside the bed, naked except for the cord around her neck. It was a stunning sight.

The new collar suited her, simple in its beauty and profound in its symbolism. Her fiery hair had grown out to her shoulders and framed her face beautifully. As far as her body, it was fully pleasing. Her pert breasts were a delectable, indulgent handful, her round ass an erotic poem, and her bare mound a seductive siren’s song to his cock.

He undressed where he was, leaving his clothes dripping over a chair, before walking over to the bed and sitting next to his pet. The wind howled angrily outside and the rain pounded the cottage relentlessly. The power of the storm added to Ryce’s libido.

“Pleasure your husband.”

Chrisselle looked up at him with those green jewels and smiled. She moved between his legs and took hold of his rigid shaft. “My handsome Master Ryce,” she purred as her lips caressed his cool but throbbing cock. Her warm tongue played with the ridge of his foreskin and she mewed when she tasted the drop of his essence caused by her attention.

Ryce stroked her red locks as she continued and then grasped the back of her head and guided her to take more of his manhood. She eagerly complied, taking him deeply. After spending the day imagining coupling with her, Ryce was overly sensitive and had to pull her off.

She glanced up at him questioningly with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“Your husband has other plans tonight.”

Chrisselle’s smile returned, her relief at not failing him easy to read on her face.

“I want you to straddle your mound over my face while encasing your lips around my shaft.”

Her eyes widened at the prospect.

Ryce lay on the bed and motioned her to him with a seductive grin. Chrisselle giggled nervously as a large crash of thunder sounded above them. She crawled onto the bed and carefully lifted her leg over his face. He stared at her tantalizing bare sex and growled, “Come here, beautiful,” grabbing both buttocks and pressing her sweet pearl to his mouth.

She cried out as he began sucking on the erect nodule, but he soon gasped when he felt the tantalizing warmth of her mouth engulf his cock. Ryce groaned in manly satisfaction. Experiencing the smell and taste of her while she sucked on his shaft was the ultimate high.

BOOK: His Scottish Pet: Dom of the Ages
10.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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