Wed To The Warrior (Kilts & Kisses 3)

I cry out, and when his wicked finger rolls over my clit, and when his teeth rake over the skin of my neck, I lose the rest of my control. I come for him, hard, my screams of pleasure drowning in his lips as he kisses me right through the climax. His hand and mine pump his thick cock faster, and I feel him swell up as he grunts into my lips.

And suddenly, I can feel it.

Hot, thick splashes of his sticky seed spurt across my pussy, my thighs, and my tummy, coating me in his cum. He roars into my lips, rolling my clit over and over as his cum runs in hot rivulets over my lips and down my thighs, making a mess of me.

Someone somewhere calls my name again, and with a final, deep, long kiss, we finally break apart, panting. I blush, looking around for a cloth or something. But when Callum gently takes my underskirt in his hand and tugs it up tight against my soaked, messy pussy, I gasp quietly.

“I want my cum on you, sweetness,” he growls quietly. “Marking you.”

I flush, feeling so dirty and so alive at the feel of his seed slick against my skin. I smooth my dress down as Callum finishes tucking his semi-hard cock back into his kilt. Our eyes lock, and he grins hungrily as he pulls me into him.

“Soon, little love,” he purrs into my lips. “Soon, I’m going to marry you.”

My heart swells, and even though I know how crazy it is, and how I hardly even know this man, I also know how right being with him feels.

“You really mean it, don’t you,” I say softly, repeating the same words from earlier. I can’t hide the shock in my voice.

Fire blazes in his eyes as he pulls me into him, and when his lips crush to mine, my arms slide around him tightly.

“I mean every word of it, love,” he purrs gently. “I know I’m not the first to ask for your hand. And I know you scared away those lesser men.”

His jaw clenches as he leans in, his lips brushing mine before moving to my ear.

“Trust that I won’t be scared away, sweetness.”

I blush, clinging to him tighter as I rake my teeth over my lip, eyeing him.

“Good,” I whisper. “Because I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we’re engaged to be married.”

Callum chuckles, pulling me close and kissing me slowly until Darcy’s voice is impossible to ignore any longer.

****

“Ahh! There you are!” My father beams as he strides forward, his arms wide. Lachlan, my father, is not a small man, nor is he anything short of formidable in stature. At forty-five, the man is stronger, healthier, and in better shape than most men half his age. Sharp blue eyes, a dark beard silvering at the edges, and a full head of thick dark hair on his head. But to me, he’s always been a big teddy bear. And as his only child, I’ve always been his everything.

Which is to say that I blush furiously, trying to shove aside the thoughts of what I just did with Callum as I smile and fall into my father’s arms.

“My apologies for making you wait, Lord McDougall, Lady McDougall,” Callum says formerly, bowing stiffly to both my father and Darcy.

“The lady Catriona had a bit of a sprain to her ankle from her ride here. It took some time to help her down those stairs without injury.”

I’m indescribably thankful that my face is buried against my dad as the heat flushes through my cheeks. But I swallow it back, taking a shaky breath before I pull away, turning towards Callum and shooting him a look.

“Uh, yes, my…” I clear my throat. “Lord Bruce was quite helpful in assisting me, dad.”

My father beams, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Wonderful. Wonderful!” He chuckles, eyeing me before turning to Callum.

“It appears my daughter hasn’t scared you off quiet yet then?”

I chuckle. “Nay, sir. And I don’t expect she will be.”

Darcy snorts loudly, rolling her eyes.

Darcy. Ugh. Where do I even start with her. No one really knows what in the hell my father is doing with her. Comfort, I suppose, but I know they don’t even share the same sleeping quarters, not that I need to know anything about that. My mother died when I was quite young, and my father was by himself for some years before Darcy came into the picture.

I don’t remember much of my mother, but I do remember her warmth, and kindness, and poise.

…Darcy is devoid of all of those things. Cruel, cold, wicked, and mean. I’m not exaggerating when I say no one truly understands why my father married her. However, the one good thing that did come from her is—

“Cat!”

I grin, whirling to see Iona beaming as she jumps out of one of the wagons and shakes her head at me as she approaches.