The Chieftain Needs an Heir - a Highland ménage novella (Clan MacKrannan's Secret Traditions) (11 page)

BOOK: The Chieftain Needs an Heir - a Highland ménage novella (Clan MacKrannan's Secret Traditions)
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And he plunged fast into her, right to the limit, feeling his
loaded ballocks swing against her.  Immediately he plunged again and kept thrusting up and up.  And when a moan escaped her, he hardened even more and his rhythm grew faster.  He denied her legs wanting to wrap themselves round his back, and instead opened her further in his grasp.  This was a raw mating and the dance had already been done.  A woman had no power here except in clenching the seed from his offered phallus, and he thrust into her even harder, pounding her into submission with every long stroke.

Sorcha's head lolled back again, and she
felt herself go limp with the ruthless battering.  This was a different Niall with no kisses, nor touch of her nipples nor her little bud, and she had a profound mindfulness of what was happening.  This was primal, a fertility ritual… the point of their joining was the world's purpose.  Her whole body shook with his pummelling and every part of her came alive with this altered need.  The bliss was radiant in her arms and her vision and her feet and her lips and its centre was at their joining.  Every one of his thrusts sensitized her more until it was as if her insides were yearning for his seed, wrapping around him like fists to pull it where it belonged.  And she was in the cosmos, riding the stars and calling the moon, and her hands had almost lost the strength to hold onto the arch.

Niall could feel her body limpen as her clenching
intensified to clamp him tight and seize his Spend.  The corded muscles on his neck strained visibly as he thrusted his last, shooting MacKrannan seed deep inside her and roaring in victory.

Ruaridh watched his brother
move the empty crockpot away, using a last wipe for the cut on Sorcha's hand to heal it.  Niall, the warrior chieftain primed to be Chief, had a tenderness he saved for his wife only.  It showed now as he lifted her high and held her there awhile to relieve the strain on her arms.

Was Niall just lucky?  Nay. 
A wise man in his choices.

His own position in the circle
had him spectate Sorcha full front naked in her walk to the arch, slinking like a goddess and eyes only for her husband.  The foreplay was the most erotic event imaginable and he'd no' be the only man here whose cock had hardened seeing her writhing to be taken.

Different now, after the deed was done. 
More like an intrusion to watch Niall petting her, and stroking her bonnie face, and kissing her as if he meant it, and her standing with her legs squeezed tight shut and wishing.

Now it was his turn, and he'd no
' be allowed to kiss her like that.  Push In the Spend, it said in the instructions.  And he didna know how he was going to do it wi' Mirren standing watching.  She was next to him in the circle, and though their stars were a fair distance apart he could still feel the fury coming off her in waves.

He'd made up his mind to ask Hilde to rouse him.  If it wasna right for a Wisewoman to be doing it, they
should have said so in the Rules or invited more folk.  And she'd seen him naked when she cleansed him.  Aye, cleansed him – cock, ballocks and all.  She knew the seriousness of this business as well as he did.

He took off his shirt and kilt and was just about to drop them and go when he thought to check under his own star
....  Ahh, bless ye, Oona!  He picked up his crockpot and made a beeline for Hilde.  Two paces in he heard Mirren's disbelieving squeak and couldna care.

Ruaridh saw a
different kind of disbelief on Hilde's face when she realised he was passing the kissing couple at the arch and coming right up to her.  He'd better do this right, for the extent o' her task was bloody evident to everybody.

H
e wondered if he should use some kind of sign language for the request, speaking being forbidden, but the gestures required made him think the better of the idea.  The best he could hope for was her smearing the honey on and giving him a good rubbing.  That would do the job, for she was a fine looking lass.  Ach, but she'd need to lick it off, for he could no' go sticky to Sorcha.  Maybe he should no' have brought the honey at all?

T
he hell with it.  She would decide for herself what needed done.  The Wisewomen were in charge o' this place, and he was the guest.  He was used to Hilde curtsying to him, yet their roles were somehow reversed when he went down on one knee and offered her the honeypot…

Hilde could not get her breath for excitement.  She looked over to Oona, just to check this was real
ly happening, and found the Grandam Wisewoman nodding reverently but with a twinkling eye.

She took the pot
from Ruaridh, committing herself.  Dipping her thumb in, she brought it loaded with the bees' precious savings to his mouth and he lapped it greedily.  And then she pulled her robe off and folded it neatly, frantically going over in her mind the rest of the instructions received from Oona many nights ago in a bedchamber garderobe, only because of the tiny chance that she or Cecily just might be called to do this.  As Oona said, the MacKrannan men were famed for being Capable On Demand, but ye never could be certain at times such as these.

From his kneeling position, Ruaridh suddenly found himself looking at Hilde's bared body.  Already in shock from her needing to undress for this,
he'd to fight all the more to keep his mind focussed on the whole purpose of being in the Chamber of the Green Man when he saw the lusciousness in front of him.  His hands had almost left his sides when he remembered he really should no' touch her.  She bade him rise, and he stood dumfounded. 

Hilde
knelt on her folded robe and saw that her task was already partly done, for his manhood had risen significantly since his arrival at her star.  The task must be completed quickly because the Spend of the chieftain must not be left idling.

She
cupped his manhood along one hand, dipped four fingers of the other into the pot, and proceeded to caress him thoroughly with the warm nectar from the tip right back to his sac.  It grew much harder just with that, to her relief.  She began licking the honey off, remembering the instructions to begin at the back and work forward.

By the time she reached the tip
with her cleaning up she found it to be bulging out its skin, so she smeared more honey on that part.  The milestone reached, she switched to a combination of licking and sucking, taking much into her mouth, holding the remainder in her hands and pushing and pulling the skin backwards and forwards.  Hilde was sure she'd done everything in the right order, and it seemed to be working well.  She took her mouth away to check progress, and sure enough his manhood was about as big as Niall's had been just before coupling with Sorcha.

And that's when she
noticed Ruaridh shuddering, and his hands in her hair, and then taking her arm to pull her up to standing, and him staring at her as if she were a complete stranger.

Ach… she'd forgotten to hum the bees' song
any time her lips were sealed while she did it and Oona had said that was
really
important!  She closed her eyes and heard Oona and Cecily humming, and she realised they'd been covering for her all the time.

Hilde began humming along.  She'
d forgotten she was at her work, for her own body was singing to the moon.

Ruaridh
was reluctant to leave her.  He could put his own spend in her right this minute.  The painting of the arch was behind her, and she looked as if she belonged in it somehow.  Everything about choosing Hilde for this seemed right.  He lifted her chin and gave her a kiss on the lips, just a wee peck in gratitude, and she hummed like a bee all the louder.  He picked up her robe and helped her put it on before walking across to the arch.

Just as his brother reached his
own star, Ruaridh's hands went over Sorcha's among the leaves and vines.

He had to do this from the back, and standing up, and
bring her to bliss while her hands stretched out like sunrays to the arch.  And Niall and Mirren were looking directly at him now, and he couldna see Hilde at all.  He'd maybe be best just shutting his eyes and working by feel.  But past his own empty star was his own bit of landscape with the village and the clansfolk that had made him think to choose Hilde.  And next to it was the man's hands holding the babe with the one eagle feather, which yanked him back to the reason they were all here.  This was for Niall and Sorcha.  This was for the clan.

Sorcha's golden hair was all down her back so he moved it in handfuls over each of her shoulders to give him a clear run.  She was a Tall Wife, right enough.  With the two of them barefoot and touching, the top of her head reached
his chin.  She had blissed no' so long ago, and loudly too, so he had his work cut out.  But he remembered Niall had no' touched her tits much so there was fresh scope to be had there.  Kissing her neck or anywhere else would be out.  Touching her should be alright, though.

Again he looked past So
rcha's head to the painting of the clansfolk needing her to bear a son.   And he found himself looking at his two hands, and the oath cut on his palm, and he got to work.

Stroking, that was the way.  In his mind he thought of the eagle feathers… three for the Chief, two for the chieftain and one for the new heir.  And the MacKrannan feathers became
Ruaridh's fingers slowly stroking Sorcha's hands in the vines… along her arms that would hold the bairns… across the shoulders that would comfort them… down the strong spine she'd need when her sons grew old enough to go into battle…

He
stood confidant behind her, working his way over every inch of her body right down to her toes with his feather touch.  And then he slid his hands round the front, under her golden locks, and cupped her mothering breasts.  He heard a rustling noise, and saw the leaves of the arch being crushed.  He fondled and kneaded her breasts long enough to hear her give a wee moan, and that's when he knew it was time.

Ruaridh
worked her knees apart with his own, and rubbed his cockstand atween her nether cheeks till she squirmed.  And he bent one of her legs up and moved into her, and turned slightly for a better joining, and started to thrust.  He had a good grip of her, and still his two hands could reach her breasts.

This
could no' be easy for her, having a second man invade her and a third yet to come.  He kept thrusting hard, Pushing in the Spend and working her breasts till her head came onto his shoulder and he moved his fingers to her nipples, rolling them atween finger and thumb  and rasping over them with his palms.  When he felt her trembling he pulled her tighter against him and concentrated hard on working her to this second blissing.

He could feel her backside
quivering with every thrust now, with a looseness about her that spoke of her time being near.  His big hands took a stronger grasp on her breasts and worked her nipples harder.  He quickened his rhythm, ramming in deep the Spend that must reach her womb and the bloodline, and she came apart with a wail.  The goddess reached her bliss, and her clenching was enough to tip him over the limit.

Ruaridh pulled away and dropped to his knees. 
The goddess was gone from him forever, replaced by the vision of a Wisewoman's lusciousness when his seed flowed out of him onto the carved Horn of Plenty and among its fruits.

That same Wisewoman fetched a cloth from under her own star
.  It felt right to Ruaridh that the task of cleansing the spend from himself and the floor should be hers, a fitting end to what he'd asked her to begin.  Hilde walked to the fire where the other two Wisewomen awaited her.  And the bees' song was heard again as the cloth was placed on the burning log in the centre of the fire arch itself.

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