Changing Roles

Only a few people knew what the day was for, and they all helped. Douglas arranged for one of the cameramen to film the vows and take pictures. Mum and Caroline made most of the other arrangements and no one got suspicious. We had a completely press-free day to remember. Us, our friends, and family celebrating love.

Celebrating us.

And now as the car pulled up to the house, I was anxious to see my wife. Anxious to hold her and then tease her with the kilt. We had left for Scotland a couple of days after the wedding. The first time Shelby had seen me in a kilt, her eyes had widened, and it had been her dragging me off somewhere private. I had snuck a kilt home with me the first weekend and had to pretend not to know how it disappeared come Monday. It had gotten rather…torn by Shelby’s anxious fingers as she yanked too hard trying to discover exactly what men wore under their kilts.

She was delighted to find I was a traditionalist.

I replaced the torn one after confessing to Abby and asked her to order me one of my own. I even got a spare one in case.

But when I got into the house, it was Shelby who had a surprise for me. Leaning against the door, she leered at me as I took in her appearance, OJ hardening at the sight before him. If I thought she was sexy in a skirt, nothing prepared me for the vision awaiting me.

Shelby—in a kilt and a waistcoat. Nothing else.

Her arms and neck were bare, the silky skin glimmering in the sun, her hair tumbling down her shoulders, gleaming in the light. Her breasts were spilling out the front of the tight vest. Her kilt—way shorter than the one I wore, sexier, showing off her slender legs to perfection, her feet bare, toes wiggling in anticipation as she watched me look at her.

“Hello, my handsome laddie,” she drawled in a perfect Scottish accent I’d never heard her use until now. She had obviously been practicing. “Fancy a go?”

If the hot rush of desire I felt was anything like what she experienced when she saw me in a kilt, I now understood her need to see me wearing one more often.

I wanted her.

Now.

Hard and fast.

Right against the wall she was standing beside.

Wearing her fucking kilt.

I stepped forward, shutting the door behind me, reaching up blindly to snap the lock. I didn’t want any unexpected visitors.

“What you have on under yer kilt, me lass?” I crooned as I stepped closer, dropping the bag I was carrying.

“Why don’t ye come closer and find out fer yourself?” she replied with a wink, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Aye, I intend to,” I grinned. “I hope yer ready…”

She arched forward, pushing off the wall, her eyes widening as she took in the ginormous bulge I was now sporting. Reaching down, I cupped my heavy erection as I arched an eyebrow at her. “Brace yerself, lassie.”

In two long steps, I had her pressed against the wall.

The buttons on the waistcoat made dull pings as they hit the floor, the material shredded from my strong hands. I didn’t care. I’d buy her another one.

My pants hit the floor, her anxious fingers making short work of the buttons and zipper. My shirt had already been yanked over my head and disappeared.

In one move, I had her sexy legs wrapped around my hips. Our bare chests pressed to each other’s, warm, silky skin meeting coarse, unruly hair as they joined and heaved together.

One flick of my wrist and I found out she was bare and ready for me.

I possessed her mouth with mine. Deep, plunging, hot, needy.

I stroked her heat with my fingers. Warm, wet, slick.

My groans were low and urgent.

Her whimpers were keening and wanting.

I surged forward, my cock slamming itself into her heat.

We both gasped.

Swiveling hard and fast, I pinned her to the wall with my hips, holding the nape of her neck with my hand as I consumed her mouth, never letting go of her sweet taste.

She held me tight, grasping my shoulders in desperation as I took her. She gave and gave, and I took and took.

Hard.

Pivoting. Thrusting.

Lifting her higher. Spreading her wider.

Driving deeper.

Demanding, taking even more.

Needing all she could give me.

Her entire body locked around mine as she screamed her release into my mouth. In one long, final thrust, I gave her everything I had, groaning and gasping her name.

Slowly, we sank to the floor, a mass of entwined limbs and soft, sweet kisses and caresses.

“Welcome home, Mr. Wright,” she murmured against my shoulder. “I missed you.”

I chuckled into her hair. “Aye—A grand welcome at that, Mrs. Wright.”The sun was dipping below the trees, the reflections bouncing off the glass in the window. Shelby curled around me, her head tucked in the crook of my neck, while she drew lazy circles through the sparse hair on my chest with her fingers. I stroked the curve of her shoulder, enjoying being beside her this way.