Under the Master's Kilt

Prologue

"Bella, doll, could ye grab the roast out of the oven, please?"

"Sure, Renata. I've nothing better to do. I mean I'm not like, say, studying or anything." My voice is laced with laughter as I move through the living room to the kitchen and yell at my roommate in the bathroom.

"Weel, if ye donnae want to eat then by all means, leave off, ye heifer!"

Laughter explodes between us and I have to stop to collect myself before opening the oven.
It's been like this since I moved to Scotland to assist Mr. Marcus Fleming in the National Museum of Scotland's library. He's restoring and preserving numerous volumes that are in danger of turning to dust if action isn't taken immediately. When the offer came two months ago I nearly leapt at the chance.

I'd just broken up with my long time boyfriend, Alec and had nothing but memories surrounding me. A change of pace was what I wanted and a change of pace was what I got.

If I work hard enough and prove my worth I could be asked to stay permanently and since Edinburgh feels more like home than Chicago did I'm all too happy to stay.


Chapter One

"Hmph…" Here I lay, eyes staring at remarkably shiny black shoes in a dirty street somewhere in Edinburgh. It figures that I would trip over the ancient cobblestones in front of some mucky muck that actually belongs several streets over with all the other mucky mucks.

My first true touristy day out in the city and I manage to fall face first into a gutter AND in front of a true Scotsman clad in a kilt even.

Firm hands pull me up. My eyes travel over the white of socks, barest hint of firm looking legs, vibrant plaid of a kilt, rough wool of a blazer until I'm at stubbled chin level. I tilt my head back and I'm met with a piercing green gaze.

"So green."

Chapter Two

"Pardon? Did ye hit yer head, lass?"

Hand to head, my brow furrows and I shake it. "No."

The green eyes that match the shiny shoes and melodious voice, cocks a perfect brow.  "Och, are ye simple then?"

My eyes lower, face flushes, and I bite my lip nervously.  "No."

He stares, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.  "No. Well, if ye're no' hurt then best ye're off."

The moment his hands leave my arms I'm lost.

"No?"

Chapter Three

If I'm to go by the look on his face I'd have to deduce he doesn't like to be told no.

"Aye, lass. If ye stay oot here ye're liable to be carried off by some ne'er-do-well. An innocent like ye shouldna be courtin' those sorts of dangers."

Now, normally I don't mind a bit of advice but his bearing and tone work to put me off a bit. They also work to wet my panties. It's a cacophony of confusing thoughts rioting through my head, which is beginning to ache a bit.

"I'm a grown woman, Mr….?"

His eyes narrow.  "Just Sir, to ye, lass."

Chapter Four

His arrogance should put me off but it only serves to make my breasts tingle and my heart race.
"Sir, as I was saying, I'm a grown woman and hardly the type to "court danger". Thank you for your concern."

Throughout my reply I'm aware that I never raise my eyes to look into his. There is something about his countenance that screams superiority and as I lack anything similar it feels safer to give him room.

"Just because ye're grown doesna mean ye're capable of keepin' safe."

His sigh is long and loud and thrills me when the warmth of it blows over my forehead. He's so close.

Chapter Five

"Have ye eatin' anythin' this evenin'?"

Licking my chapped lips I shake my head.  "No."

"No, Sir, lass." His tone is clipped and laced with warning. "What's yer name?"

"Begging your pardon, but it seems to me that telling a perfect stranger my name would indeed fall under your warning of courting danger."

Chancing a look up I see that he's smiling and the sheer beauty of it makes me feel as though I have one hundred pounds sitting on my chest.

When he laughs the weight is gone and replaced with the feeling of free falling without a care in the world.

Chapter Six

"Bloody hell, ye're a fine one, lass."

Warm fingers lift my chin until my eyes have nowhere to fall but on his magnificent face. Tousled hair, eyes the color of clover, and perfectly plump lips.  "The name's Edward MacCullen."

Before I can process that he's given me his name I feel his warm hand envelop mine.  "Now we're no' strangers, Ms…?"

Dear God, my name.

My name?  "Swan. Isabella Swan."

Now that I've looked at him I'm afraid there will be no looking away.

I'm wrong.

His lips touch down on my hand and my eyes travel to the warm, tingling spot just as his head lifts again.

Chapter 7

"MacCullen? You mean Laird MacCullen, of Cullen House?"

"One and the same, Ms. Swan."

His smile stretches and mine follows. I'm fairly certain more than my smile would follow him right off the battlements of Edinburgh Castle.  "Well, now you've no excuse no' to be havin' dinner with me, have ye?"

Of course I do…he could be a closet serial killer, or perhaps he's kept his families wealth supplemented by selling unsuspecting girls on the black market.

I laugh in a very unladylike manner and instantly go red, before shaking my head.

Chapter 8

"None, but I should call my friends let them know I won't be back for dinner."

"Good. I was just on my way back to the house for a veritable feast made by my esteemed cook, Mrs. Cope. Would ye do me the honor of sittin' for a bite with me?"

"If you'll give me just a moment please, Mr. MacCullen?"

He nods, I bite my bottom lip, and smile as I pull my cell from my purse and dial my friend Renata's number.

While I'm disclosing my plans I pin him with a gaze meant to convey many things, namely the fact that people will know where I'm going and whom I'm with. Just in case I go missing because he truly is planning on selling me on the black market.

As I hang up, promising to call periodically so she doesn't worry, I straighten myself out.
"Ready when you are, sir." I put emphasis on the last word, and watch his eyes turn stormy, the smile he'd been sporting falls just slightly. He recovers quickly, though the ghost of a storm still lurks in the depth of his eyes.

Chapter Nine

"Right, if ye'll follow me we'll just take my car."

As I'd suspected, I follow, my body humming at the close contact once we're seated in the car.
After a lengthy and very quiet ride the car pulls up to the wide, sweeping staircase of the formal front entrance. As part of a tour of the city, I had visited briefly earlier in the week to pick up rare documents for the museum and knew it was impressive. I could not have known that those notions would pale in significance when faced with the magnificence of the man residing within. He was impressive and more mysterious than should be legal.

The moment I take his hand to maneuver out of the car, I know the evening is going to be intense. The connection in just a simple touch of hands is practically enough to jumpstart a car.

Chapter Ten

A quick tour of the mansion follows our entrance. He's quick to mention that the public tour left out most of the interesting places out. At the conclusion of perusing all the secret spots, he decides an informal setting for dinner would be more to his liking. His exact words are…"I'd much prefer to have ye close, lass."

I'm woman enough to admit this made me melt.

"You have a beautiful home. Does it get lonely having all this space to yourself?"

A curt shake of his head is all the answer I receive before he's pointing to my plate and telling me to eat.

Fearing his disapproving scowl, I do just that.

Chapter Eleven

Dinner passes with very little conversation and the quiet drives me to fidget.

"Be still, lass."

"Sorry, I'm just used to more talking or movement, I suppose."

Appraising eyes roam my form as I stand to follow him to the library, where we're to have after dinner drinks.

"Do ye dance, then?"

I can't seem to stop the snort that erupts and immediately turn red, shaking my head in the negative.
"Well, ye're gonna have another go at it tonight. Perhaps that should stop the aimless moving of yer fingers. Give them a purpose, aye?"

All I can muster is a deep sigh.

Chapter Twelve

I didn't lie when I answered his question and after several valiantly sacrificed toes, I believe he is of the same opinion.

"More's the pity. You ken what they say about those that can dance."

"No, what do they say?"

"Their grace follows them into the bedroom, lass."

I choke on air.  "Oh." My voice sounds defeated because I'm feeling just that. "Well, I wouldn't really know."

That stops him in his tracks.

"Are ye sayin' ye're untouched, Ms. Swan?"

I expect to see disinterest or revulsion when I meet his gaze but find something akin to heat.

Chapter Thirteen

"If that's the polite way of asking if I'm a virgin, then yes, I am."

Judging by the rigidity of his body I hazard a guess this displeases him and say as much.

"I canna say I'm happy about the fact. I'd hoped to…" A rough hand pulls through his hair, and then his head shakes firmly.

"Doesna matter noo."

My hand reaches for his, my lip firmly tugged between my teeth.

"I've just never found a person that made me wonder what it would be like." My eyes stay on our feet, but the lack of eye contact doesn't keep me from being more than a little embarrassed.

Chapter Fourteen

"What are ye tryin' to say, lass? Do ye find yerself wonderin' around me?"

Head bobbing, I switch my weight from foot to foot. The electricity in his touch surprises me, forcing my eyes closed.

"Look at me, lass. I'm verra happy ye wonder about such things with me but I doona think my appetites are fit for one so inexperienced."

Hesitation and embarrassment are replaced by indignation. My eyes open wide, only to narrow as I give him my best "bitch brow".

"Who are you to decide what I'd like and not like?" I stop just short of stomping my foot like a toddler.

"More of a man than ye've e'er known, Ms. Swan. More man than ye'd be able to handle."

Chapter Fifteen

On instinct I pull from his grasp with a harsh tug and nearly fall on my bottom again.
"You can't know that, Mr. MacCullen." I aim for a sneer but know I miss it by a mile.

"Come with me, lass, and I believe ye'll lose that defiant air."

He skips asking my permission and simply tugs me along the corridor to a winding staircase. After passing two levels to the cellar, we've reached what I assume might have been something of a dungeon or larder.

The cool air caresses my heated skin and puts me on edge. I am no longer in the mood to know this man's mysteries.

Chapter Sixteen

Soon enough we reach a large, arched, wooden door. It looks ancient and heavy.  "'Tis yer last chance to turn 'round and forget about me, lass. What say ye?"

Didn't I just decide I no longer wanted to know what he had hidden in his proverbial closet?

Filling my lungs with chilled air I shake my head. I might never meet another man as enigmatic and sexually charged as Edward MacCullen. I don't want to live with the regret of not knowing him now.

"I'll have yer word that ye'll keep this to yerself afore we enter."

Chapter Seventeen

An uneasy laugh slips past my teeth.

"Do you have dead bodies in there?"

Operating under the assumption someone has a sense of humor is an uncomfortable thing when you realize said person seem devoid of one in this situation.

His scowl deepens.

"No, lass, though some might find it equal in depravity."

"I'd like to think I'm a bit more open minded than that."

"I'll still be needin' a formal yes or no to the question, Isabella."

His use of my given name sends a shiver through my body. The aftershocks strengthen the tightening in my belly.

"Anything I see will remain between us, Mr. MacCullen."

Chapter Eighteen

"Once inside this room, ye will refer to me as Sir only, Isabella. Understood?"

"Sure?"

"Yes or noo, girl."

An eye roll, huff, and nod later he opens the door.

"You're a…I mean, it makes sense but…" I let out a long, hissing breath. "Holy shitake mushrooms."
"Look yer fill, lass. Do I still make ye wonder?"

His large frame enters my line of sight, commanding notice.

"Yes."

My breathy reply accompanies a single finger as it caresses the edges of a shiny leather bench.
I'm so caught up in my perusal of what most consider torture devices lining the stone floor and walls that his laugh makes me jump a foot in the air.

Chapter Nineteen

"Och, Isabella, ye're a sight. Where's that shy flush not?"

The heat of his body seeps through my clothes, setting my back aflame. His words prompt the blush he seems to like and my shoulders slump.

"I've read about things like this. About…you know, this." My hands wave around haphazardly before I shrug.

Gentle hands turn me to face him, though I don't have the strength or conviction to raise my eyes to his. If I was honest I'd say that I have always felt the need to be pulled along rather than forced to lead. I figured out long ago that I am naturally submissive and struggle to not be embarrassed by it.

Chapter Twenty

"Ye'd make a lovely sub, lass. But I doona think it's the way to start oot, ye ken? It wouldnae be tender. I wouldnae be tender."

I beg the floor to open up and swallow me whole to save me from the agony of his denial.
"I'm not sure I'm suitable for any other way but thank you for the kind brush off. I think I'd like to go home now."

The subtle grip he has on my arms tightens but not painfully so. His breathing comes out in harsh puffs against the top of my head as the heady smell of whiskey engulfs me.

I look up just enough to see that his kilt does little to hide the effect this conversation is having on him physically. The sight of the tented front of his pleated plaid heats my cheeks and sends a new wave of shivers up my spine.

"What if I proposed a night in my den to see if ye like it, lass? To see if ye're really of a mind to give with no promise o' receiving."

Chapter Twenty-one

"Like a trial run? Try before you buy and all that. What good would it do me? Maybe I wouldn't want this with someone else."

I've said it and there is no taking it back. The idea of giving myself over to him is intoxicating but what if he refuses me? Would I be so willing with another?

His actions speak for him. Hands move down my arms to take my own and pull me to a wall burdened with cuffs, rings, and loose chains. His gaze asks the question as he holds one such cuff out and I nod. A shiver wracks my frame as he attaches it to my wrist.

Chapter Twenty-two

Expecting my other wrist to be bound, I hold it up and out a bit for him. His answering scowl and tight dismissal have me opening my mouth but he speaks first.

"Ye're input's not needed here, lass. Ye will speak if I give ye leave, otherwise ye're to remain absolutely quiet. Am I understood? Ye may move yer head to answer."

Nodding slowly I let out a breath and stand a bit straighter.

"First rule in my den, ye're here to please me and I'm here to take care of ye."

My head bobs again in understanding as I watch him turn and walk to the other side of the room.

Chapter Twenty-three

"I'll just be givin' ye a taste of what it's like, lass. I'll no be takin' anythin' from ye that's not mine to take withoot a lengthy discussion."

His stride is commanding as he walks back to me holding a long thin stick with a flat piece of stiff fabric at the end.

"A crop. Meant to be used to tease or to punish. I prefer a paddle for punishment, or my hand. I've no need to punish ye tonight, unless ye give me reason."

He runs the end of the crop along my arm, skipping over my torso to run it up my the inside of leg, under my skirt, and skimming my panties.

Chapter Twenty-four

"Now, if ye do nae mind my warnings and make a noise I deem unfit or try to sway my course of action, I'll be forced to punish ye, ye ken?"

His eyes rake my now aroused and tight body as though I were naked. I'm panting and needy and willing to agree to anything so long as he'll touch me.

Giving myself over to each and every touch is easier than I imagined.

"No' that I'd mind turnin' yer fine arse a bonnie shade of red. Now, let's see what we've hidin' under this braw shirt of yer's."

Again he waits for my okay, which comes in the form of a rather wanton arching of my back. His nimble fingers release the buttons until cool air kisses the skin of my chest and stomach.

Chapter Twenty-five

"Are ye still so sure aboot this, lass?" Warm fingers dance along the scalloped edge of my midnight blue lace bra.

I've never been happier that I let my best friend Jasper pack for my trip. He's horrified by the plain cotton I'm so fond of. I think he secretly likes using me as a living Barbie. I can't complain though, he has impeccable taste, most likely due to the fact that he's a buyer for Victoria's Secret and gayer than the day is long.

With a deep breath in I nod decisively and look down at his fingers as they casually dip in and out of the lacey edge.

"Ye're the bonniest lass I've seen in a long time, Isabella. So fair and soft." His words are a whispered caress against the heated skin of my neck.

Chapter Twenty-six

Eyes drooping I sigh and bite my lip to contain the moan bubbling to the surface. Aside from my own machinations and a few fumbling encounters in a too small dorm room bed I've never been touched like this. How can something so minimal make me feel as though I'm stretched to the limit?

A quick and hard tug brings me out of my introspection with a gasp. Apparently my bra has offended him and the only retribution to be had was to decimate it and throw it from my body. My nerves, the good ones that send your body singing, are on edge as he grasps my breasts firmly and a little harshly in his large hands and squeezes.

Chapter Twenty-seven

"That's right, lass. Give over, let me do as I wish." Twinkling eyes catch my own as he lowers his head to take one reddened tip into his mouth so far that half of my breast is now firmly ensconced in the moist warmth. I arch further into his touch and let loose a loud moan when he pulls off with amazing suction only to bite my nipple and tug.

"I'll let ye a pass this once, Isabella because I find I like hearin' yer noises just noo. The next one will earn ye a firm hand, ye ken?"

Chapter Twenty-eight

I've lost all ability to speak, not that I'm allowed, so I'm thankful that a nod of my head is sufficient reply.

"Grand. Noo, I think it's aboot time for me to see what ye have hiding under this bonnie skirt, ye ken?" Even as he speaks his fingers move to the zip of my pencil skirt. Deft fingers tug it past my hips until it pools on the floor.

He stands back, his hands still resting on my nearly bare hips.  "Aye, just as braw as the rest of ye."

My eyes drift closed as his fingers gently knead the flesh of my waist. His right hand moves, leaving my skin chilled by the air in his den, but it finds purchase directly over my aching clit. The heel of his hand pushes up, giving me the pleasure of friction and my eyes pop back open.

Chapter Twenty-nine

"Ah, there ye are, lass."

I'm staring so contentedly into his deep green eyes that I nearly miss the crooked smirk he's sporting. In another situation I might have mentioned the arrogance it held but it isn't acceptable now, and I know I don't want to earn his wrath or disapproval over something so ridiculous.

"Do ye like this, Isabella?"

He's leaned in to whisper this in my ear, bringing his firm, designer shirt-wearing chest to my naked torso. His words, the rasp of his buttons on my over sensitized nipples, and the way his warm breath coats the shell of my ear force a whimper from me low in my belly.

It earns me a sharp smack to my left breast.

Chapter Thirty

"Ye've been warned aboot the noises. Nae matter hoo much I like them, they're nae allowed the noo."
With one last push he pulls his hand from my pussy and steps back. I have to clench my fists to keep from whining at the loss. As much as the slap aroused me, his stormy eyes and rigid bearing at being displeased makes my stomach ache. I want to make him happy. It feels right and wrong at the same time.

"Do ye think ye deserve more of my touch, lass? I'm nae so sure, myself. If ye make many more noises I might be forced to use a paddle."

Determined footsteps echo through the room as he makes his way to a tall, ornately carved wardrobe. The doors creak open to reveal at least ten paddles hanging from individual hooks and rows of drawers holding who knows what sort of pleasure/pain inducing implements.

Chapter Thirty-one

With a purposeful stride he returns to my side, this time releasing my bound wrist and pulling me to the leather bench I'd admired when we first walked in. My feet falter when we close in on the shiny black bench and he turns to look at me, concern etched on his face.

"Are ye still wonderin', Isabella or hae' ye had enough?"

My brows furrow as I decide how best to answer him without speaking but he interprets my problem and gives me leave to speak my mind.

"I'd like to continue, if it would please you, Sir."

I've never been more thankful for all the smut I've read in my life. My favorites have always been the stories about Dominants and submissives. I just hope my reply pleases him.

"Very well, lass. Take off yer panties and remove that torn bra. From here on oot, if ye feel as though ye'd like to stop, just say red. Ye've no need to seek my permission afore ye do so. It's called a safe word. For yer protection. Och, I shoulda' mentioned it in the beginnin' but I didn't rightly believe ye'd make it this far."

Chapter Thirty-two

Removing the last scraps of cloth covering my bits is more daunting than I would have imagined, but I do it and stand before him.

"Ye're a sight, lass."

He points to the bench and I sit quickly.

He chuckles and it's a deep, warm, rich sound.

"Donae' be afraid, lass. For yer honesty ye've earned a reward. But first I need to know what ye know aboot a man's body. Have ye ever touched a cock? You may speak."

"I have."

"Brilliant. Then ye ken where to find mine."

His body moves to replace every other image in the room as he stands before me, making me eye level with his tented kilt. Shaking hands reach up to the buckle at his side and slide it out with an audible swish of soft leather and clanking metal.

"Mind the button of the other side, lass and breath afore ye pass oot."

Chapter Thirty-three

The sound of my deep inhale fills the quiet room and is followed by another laugh from the man towering above me. My lips quirk up into a small smile before my fingers shakily return to the task at hand.

When the button is finally loosed of its cloth prison I take another large breath and slowly lower the plaid fabric. What greets me is both attractive and off-putting.

I've seen penises. I've touched penises. But this is a cock. Splendid, hard, angry purple at the head, which is pushing the delicate pink foreskin of his shaft down under the crown.

I stare, tilting my head to the side and reach one finger out to run from tip to base softly, which elicits a soft moan from Sir.

"Ye're noo to tease me, lass. Put those tiny hands to good use and fist my cock."

I do and in that moment, I realize that as a submissive I have more control than I have ever had in my life. His pleasure, be it physical or mental is in my hands. The thought makes me shiver.

Chapter Thirty-four

"Mmmmm, noo, put yer mouth on me, lass. Yessssssssss, just like that."

As I'm licking and sucking the head of his cock, something I've only tried once, he takes one of my hands and places it on his balls, his hand atop mine and tugs.

"Aye, just like that, Isabella. Noo, I'm goin' to move in yer mouth, lass. If ye're uncomfortable pinch my arse with yer other hand."

Before I can comply he's moved his hands to my head and is slowly pumping his hips, forcing his cock into my mouth. I try to relax but on a particularly powerful thrust I choke, and pinch his ass on reflex. He pulls out and I feel defeated.

Chapter Thirty-five

"Och, no long faces, lass. That was…" He stares at his raging hard on and smiles. "Twas a promising start."

I chance a look up at him and knit my brows.

"Don't look so downtrodden, lass. There's much ye have to learn if this is truly what ye want, but I think ye'll be a bonnie student."

Long fingers wrap around my jaw, his thumb gliding over my moist bottom lip.

"I think ye've earned yer release, lass. Would ye like that? Would ye like me to feast on yer sweet, pink pussy?"

Each word is emphasized with a puff of air as his lips draw closer to mine. My flaming cheeks accompany a nod.

Chapter Thirty-six

"Mmmm, well, that's bloody brilliant because I want nothin' more than to taste ye, ye ken? From this point forward I'd like ye to make as much noise as ye can, lass. Let me hear how much ye enjoy this and know that I might ne'er grant ye such liberties again, because I do intend to have ye in my den as often as I can. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Please, sir." The whiney pitch to my voice surprises me but the undulating squirm of my hips doesn't. They're seeking friction and only catching air.

Until they're not.

The smack to the wet and swollen flesh between my thighs makes me keen out in pleasure.  "I gave ye leave to make noise, not move, ye ken? Let me enjoy takin' ye."

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Oh God!"

Chapter Thirty-seven

His lips suck and pull at my pulse while his hands work through my slick lower lips, purposely avoiding my clit. It takes all my effort to remain still and use only my voice to show my pleasure and frustration.

My head falls back as he eases one long finger in up to the second knuckle. It curves up and sends a white-hot shot of lightening through my body causing me to gasp and clench my hands.

"I willnae be givin' ye more than this one finger, lass. Enjoy it the noo because the next time I enter ye it'll be with my cock, aye?"

"Please, Sir. God, PLEASE."

"No. This is what ye can have for noo. This and this…" He returns to kissing my neck, moving up, up, up until his lips hover over mine. I have just enough presence of mind to look at him before he leans forward to take my mouth in a heated kiss, his finger still curled inside my body and creating ripples of pleasure.

Chapter Thirty-eight

After minutes of breath-stealing kisses, he pulls back and smirks.

"I'll be tastin' ye noo, lass. Let me hear yer thoughts, yer pleasure. I aim to have ye screamin' my name when I'm through."

An unintelligible whimper later, he has me laid out on the bench with him kneeling at the end, my legs thrown over his shoulders. In my right mind I would be mortified to have someone so close to my private bits, but this man steals the intelligence and rational thought from me leaving me a writhing, moaning, dripping mess of wanton woman.

I like it.

I already feel addicted to it.

I want to be his, to hell with the "try before you buy" mentality.

Chapter Thirty-nine

"Oh. Yes. Please. FUCK!" His wet, silky tongue laps at my opening and runs a slow circuit around my clit before his lips wrap around the hard bud and he sucks. It's pleasure laced with a touch of pain and an amazing euphoric high. I've read of orgasms that stole your breath and your sanity, but until this very moment I never dared believe it true.

It's true. So, so true.

"Weel noo, that was quick. Would ye like more lass, or are ye quite ready to help me with my problem?"

I find enough strength to lift my head and smile before nodding.  "Sir, I'd like to help make you feel good now, please."

"Verra well, Isabella. Take yer hands and push yer tits together." I do as bade and watch as he licks the palm of his hand from base to fingertip, stroking himself three times before he moves to stand beside me. He just out of my line of vision but I don't dare turn my head until I've been asked. If I've learned nothing else in our short time in the den, I now know that I do as bid and never more…for now.

"Turn yer head and take my cock in yer mouth. I need to have plenty o' lubrication if I'm to fuck yer tits properly."

Chapter Forty

His words…my God, his words. They nearly take me over the edge again.

I open, he inserts, I moan, he bucks…this continues for several strokes before he pulls out and bends to kiss me.

"Aye, ye're a verra fast learner, lass. Quick to oblige. I like that, ye ken. I want your eyes open at all times."

Again, I do as asked and moan loudly when he straddles my chest, one leg on each side of the bench. It strikes me then that for a virgin I'm not acting very virginal. If he'd agree without a fuss and need to talk, I'd offer myself to him fully. The problem is he's already said he won't without extensive discussion. I won't push the issue because…well, because I'd very much like to see him come apart, and I have a feeling my punishment for pushing would be being sent off without that pleasure.

Chapter Forty-one

He settles in and smacks my breasts with his large cock several times, taking a moment or two to pinch my nipples. The moment he slides his hardness through the channel I've created he moans loudly.

"Fuck, lass. It's no as braw as havin' yer pussy around my cock but it still feels sae good."

My legs rub together to try to satisfy the reigniting flame in my pussy. Watching him is driving me mad. Listening to him is making me wet. Feeling him just might give me an orgasm without any more stimulation than the simple clenching of my muscles.

"I said eyes open, lass." I hadn't even realized I'd closed them when I feel him stop and remove himself from my tits only to smack them both with enough force to turn them red and make them sting.

"Noo we'll have to start over. Open wide."

Chapter Forty-two

We repeat the wetting of his cock, only this time he's not so gentle and gives me little time to adjust to his size in my mouth. When he's ready, he goes back to my tits and starts pumping furiously.
"Are ye diddling yerself, lass? Did I tell ye to?"

He looks back at my legs, which are sawing up and down as though they're two sticks trying to start a fire rather than extinguish it.

When he turns back to face me he's smiling.

"If ye can get yerself off like that then ye deserve the pleasure it brings Isabella, but I want yer attention on me the noo."

"Yes, Sir." I keep my eyes on him, licking the tip of his cock when it comes close enough to my tongue and watch his eyes turn from green, to gray, to nearly black before he grabs my breasts himself and pumps once, twice, three times before yelling out his release. My legs up their motions and my muscles clench in time to his jerks as he comes on my neck and face, until I'm seeing stars through open eyes.

Chapter Forty-three

Minutes pass, our mingled panting breaths surrounding us, before he leans down to kiss me.
"Och, lass. Ye're bloody brilliant. How do ye feel? Please speak as ye would outside these walls but keep yer tongue aboot ye. I don't abide disrespect."

"I feel…I…I feel tingly and good. Like I've just discovered a way to sleep and study at the same time."

He smiles to match mine, and chuckles, kissing me softly one more time before moving to stand.
"Ye're no turned off by all this, then?"

"No. It feels right. It was perfect…Sir."

His hand reaches for my own and helps me up, but I keep my eyes on our feet.

"Would you be willing to talk to me about pursuing this further, Sir?"

Chapter Forty-four

His chest is pumping up and down faster than seems prudent and his reply sounds a bit strangled.
"Aye, Isabella. I'd like that verra much. But for noo, let's get ye cleaned up. I'd like to give ye a few things to take home and read afore we talk more. I expect it to be kept in the strictest confidence, ye ken?"

"Understood, sir. When will I be able to see you again?"

"I'll call on ye tomorrow evening, seven o'clock sharp. Be dressed for dinner oot."

I know my face shows my shock. "Wouldn't it be more prudent to talk about things in a more private setting? Sir."

"Never ye mind aboot the where, lass. No one'll over hear our conversation no matter the place."

Chapter Forty-five

"I'm sorry for not trusting you, Sir. I'll work on that."

I start to fidget again, the cooling wetness between my thighs and Sir's cum running and congealing on my chest is uncomfortable.

"Hawd yer wheesht, lass and follow me. I'll let ye shower upstairs afore I have my driver take ye home." His face is once again covered in a stern and reprimanding scowl so I opt to simply nod and follow him, naked as the day I was born no less, up the stairs, through the large manor house, and into a beautiful room.

"Shower, dress, and meet me in the foyer. I'll have the papers ready for ye."

With that he turns and strides across the hall to what I assume is his own room. With a strangled sigh I close my eyes and relive that short walk, reveling in the bunch of muscles in his thighs and ass.

What a specimen.

Chapter Forty-six

I'm out of the shower and after a quick toothbrushing-thanks to the extra toiletries found under the sink- I walk into the adjoining bedroom. My clothes await me in a neat pile on the bed and I wonder who he bossed around to get them in here so quickly.

Knowing he's probably waiting on me downstairs, I dress in a rush and as gracefully as I can, descend the stairs. My breath catches when I see him in the grand foyer in only his kilt. How am I only just noticing the large tattoo that covers his left shoulder blade?

"Sir."

"Isabella, ye may call me Edward when we're out of my den…for noo."

"Thank you, Si…Edward. Are those the papers for me to look over?"

Chapter Forty-seven

His hand lifts to pass them to me.

"Aye, they are. I'll expect ye to be ready to discuss them tomorrow night, ye ken. I'll have no patience for hemmin' and hawin' on yer part, so be sure to look over them thoroughly."

"I promise."

After a few more warnings and a possessive kiss I'm sent off with the driver who walks me to my door, bowing before walking off.

Needless to say, Renata demands full retelling but receives an abridged version. After all, I'm bound by legal documentation to keep most of it hush-hush. She's happy with the rather vanilla recounting, though I can tell she only half believes me. Perhaps she already knows of famous Mr. MacCullen and his…kink. Or perhaps she sees in my face and demeanor what I am only beginning to realize could be a big issue down the road.

Master MacCullen could own me body, heart, and soul if I let him and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to resist.

Chapter Forty-eight

The dinner meeting goes off without a hitch. I have many questions and he answers them all with unerring patience.

He is especially keen on going over our limits. He has few and I have many. Somehow I find myself making notations that I'd be open to far more than I thought I would, after his thorough explanations of the acts. I think there is a part of me that trusts him innately even though I don't know him well.
We decide that I will visit his home every Wednesday evening and weekend to begin my training. When he feels I'm ready he will divest me of my virginity and make me his…my words, not his.

When all is said and done, I feel light and free and ready to take on the training so long as it's him instructing.

Chapter Forty-nine

We've set up a schedule that has me at the manor every Wednesday evening for several hours, and then every weekend, overnight Friday through Sunday evening. The overnights are particularly thrilling and difficult. We're nearing the second weekend and I feel so much for the enigmatic laird. Lust, respect, adimiration, and well, more lust.

A shiver snakes up my spine, my subconscious taking over to rid me of my errant thoughts, no doubt. I straighten my pose just as he walks through the heavy door. Downcast eyes allow me to see only his black boots. I'm about to receive my first punishment. I sassed His Highness earlier this evening at dinner. Having just had a craptastic day at work, I took it out on him for asking a simple question that he had every right to ask me. As my Dom he needs to know when to expect things like my menses. I knew better than to open my mouth, but open it I did and out poured a veritable smorgasbord of punishment-inducing snark…

"My PERIOD, you mean? Why? Just because I'm a little touchy tonight doesn't mean it's related to my menses, Sir!" I sneer the last word and before he can get a word in edgewise I continue. My fist comes down on the table hard enough to rattle the china and it feels so good. I've needed to release this aggression all day. "Why do men assume such things? Is it too much to consider that perhaps another of YOUR sex decided that today was the best possible day to throw four ancient and rather large tomes on my desk and demand I get to work immediately? Hmm? Right, no answer. The kicker? The kicker is that he's not even my boss. He's just barely my peer. Pushy fucker…"
My rant is interrupted by the screech of wooden chair legs against a brilliantly polished wood floor. "ENOUGH!" I look up to find my…Edward, standing firm at the head of the table and looking regal as a lion. "Ye're quite done with dinner, lass. Get ye to yer room and then straight to the den when ye're properly dressed. Ye've just earned yerself a punsishment for too many infractions to count. Go…NOO!"

My feet hardly touched the floor as I raced to my room, tears streaming down my cheeks. I'd let him down and upset him. You'd think the torture of that simple knowledge would be punishment enough but I knew he would never settle for that.

So here I sit, naked, humiliated, and wetter than an otter's pocket.

"Och, lass. Ye look good enough to eat."

The only response I give is involuntary as I feel my nipples tighten and my thighs clench.
"Noo, I ken we've been o'er the rules and ye know ye've earned yerself a bit o' time on my bench. Nod if ye understand."

I do as bid and await his instructions to rise and walk to the bench. I will not disappoint him again.
"Aye, good then. Go on, get yerself over there. On yer stomach. I'll leave ye free but if ye show signs that ye can't keep from squirming, I'll use the cuffs."

With absolutely no hesitation I stand and walk to the bench, laying down on it in the manner expected of me. I'm a mess of racing heart and shaky legs. The coldness of the soft leather on the bench bites into my skin but I manage to keep from uttering a single whimper.

"Good, lass. I'll be givin' ye five with my hand first, to warm ye up and then ye'll receive ten strokes with my favorite paddle for yelling and another five for nay givin' me a chance to speak and a final five for forgetting yer place. Ye'll count each stroke and thank me for it. If ye falter then ye'll receive two extra strokes. In the future I'll be more severe, ye ken. You may nod, lass."

Tears were already prickling at the corners of my eyes but I managed a jerky nod without a single one falling. Sir had me read up on punishment types and proper delivery the first weekend of our working together to help alleviate some of my fear. As a new sub it is a given that I would screw up at some point. I know he won't smack me in the same place repeatedly but rather move around the area from my fleshy cheeks to my upper thighs. Unfortunately, his preparations seem to have been for naught because I am still shaking in my metaphorical boots.

Calming breaths in and out to center myself turn to a stuttering, choked moan when his hand makes contact the first time.

"One. Thank you, Sir."

After the fifth stroke of his hand I take a deep breath. My bum feels warm and tingly but my belly is tied in knots so big they feel as though they're pushing into my throat. I have no idea what to expect from the paddle but I know this isn't about turning me on. I'm being punished so I can only imagine that pain will be a byproduct.

"AHHHHH! SIX!" So lost in thoughts of fear and worry I'm taken by surprise when the paddle meets my backside for the first time. It's an odd combination of pain laced with a fair bit of pleasure.

"Thank you, Sir."

Things are fine until the ninth stroke of the paddle, the fourteenth stroke total. It's starting to feel as though my ass is on fire. I'm sure I have skin missing from my cheeks down the back of my thighs and tears have started streaming down my face.

How am I going to take another eleven strokes?

"Fifteen. Thank you, Sir." My voice is barely above a strangled whisper at this point. With each consecutive stroke my whimper becomes more sob and by the last one I have snot leaking from my nose and drool from my mouth. I'm a literal mess of body fluids.

I thank Sir again but remain where I am. He'll give me instruction or I'll just lay here and wallow in my misery until he does. I do have one thing to be proud of…I never lost count. I didn't earn myself any more swats with that heinous paddle. He's got to be a little proud of me for that, right?

"Stay there, lass. I've got a salve to put on ye once I clean ye up a bit. " His voice is so close that I know he must be crouched beside the bench but I can't move or open my eyes. I respond with a small nod of my head and simply breathe.
({UTMK})
I don't move. I can't move. Well I could, but not without reigniting the fire on my ass. The moment the wet cloth touches my swollen skin I hiss and whimper. That doesn't feel any better than the damn paddle. Aftercare is supposed to be soothing but somehow this still feels like punishment.

I chance a look back at Sir and notice that his hair is sticking up wildly around his head. It looks like a wicked halo of brown and bronze and I want to cry again. I'd much rather his hair look like that because I've just given him the most intense orgasm he's ever had, rather than because he's yanked on it out of frustration regarding my actions.

He's moving the cloth over me gently. It's quite a contradiction. Big man, big voice, big hands moving a soft, warm cloth over my ass as though he were bathing a baby. I whimper again and tears start anew. Perhaps doling out this punishment wasn't a good thing for him either.

The thought makes my heart ache.

And then other things begin to ache.

Fingers covered in salve smooth over my skin. He doesn't miss a single nook or cranny and because of that I'm wet…down there. I'm a mess of emotions again.

Sad because I let him down.

Mad because that shit hurt AND because I let him down.

Turned on because his gentleness is hot.

Without any warning I'm turned just enough for him to lift me. My head, so heavy and pounding due to the epic crying, lands softly against his black cotton covered chest.

"Aye, lass. Just relax. I'm goin' to put ye to bed noo. I'm sae proud of ye, Isabella. Ye took yer punishment with nae a complaint or move to cover yerself. Ye're a good lass, ye are. Perhaps tomorrow ye'll be up to something I've been wanting to try with ye. And if ye behave, I'll let ye come as many times as ye like."

His voice, that rich, melodic brogue, nearly puts me to sleep but his last words have me perking up a bit. He must sense that I want to speak because he kisses my forehead and gives me leave.

"I'm so sorry I let you down, Sir. I promise to be good and proper all day tomorrow. All day every day you'll have me. " I lean my head back enough to look up at him, eyes pleading him to believe me.

"Och, lass. Donnae look at me like that. It makes me wanna lay ye oot beneath me and take ye every way possible. We both ken ye're no up to that at the moment." Green eyes sparkle and little dimples form at the corners of his mouth. His chastisement wasn't so much chastisement as flirting. This is new.

"I just want you to believe that I'm being honest with you, Sir. Thank you for the punishment. I think it will serve to remind me to hold my tongue from now on."

A deep rumbling laughter rolls from his belly up out of his mouth. It's soothing and makes me smile.

"Donnae write checks yer mouth cannae cash, lass. I expect ye'll mouth off from time to time but perhaps this punishment'll be enough to keep ye from going overboard."

Our moment is done the instant he enters my room. I'm laid on the bed gingerly, and then I snuggle under the covers.

"Set yer alarm for eight o'clock a.m., lass. We've a lot to cover tomorrow but we willnae be enterin' the den afore I know ye're back to feeling bonny, ye ken?"

"I ken." I try to smother my giggle in the fluffy down comforter but he hears and smiles again as he bends and lays a chaste kiss on my forehead.

"Ye're a cheeky lass, Isabella. There are times I'd really like to…" Fingers twist in his hair and he shakes his head. "Another day. I'll tell ye what I'd like on another day. Rest, lass."

And he is gone before I can inquire, not that I would as he seemed set on keeping things to himself. If I've learned nothing else this evening, I've learned that pushing my Dom is the right way to get a very sore bottom, and as much as the warm ups turned me on a bit, the actual punishing swats did not.

After tonight it is safe to say I'm not into the sort of pain that comes with punishment and endeavor from this point forward to keep from displeasing Sir again.

Chapter Fifty...Losing My Virginity

Today is the day. He called me Thursday night and explained that after our Wednesday session, he believed I was ready to take our relationship to a more serious level. He didn't go into detail but I have a feeling he plans on collaring me as well as fucking me.

Even thinking those words makes me blush. While I'm much more comfortable with my body and all the sexy words he's taught me, I still feel a bit naughty saying them myself.

I rush around my room in the manor, whistling a happy little tune and giggling periodically. I've been waxed, plucked, buffed, and moisturized like no one's business and find myself waffling between wearing the lacy green ensemble he's picked out or the short pleated kilt in his clan's tartan with a pair of emerald nipple rings.

It seems more fitting to give myself to him in the colors of his ancestry. More fitting and considerably more perverted. The thought makes me giggle again.

({})

Head down, bottom firmly placed on heels, thighs open, hands behind my back. I'm quite proud of the fact that I mastered Sir's preferred poses so quickly. My presentation never fails to make him smile and give me a good pat for a job well done.

Just as a smug smile flits across my face I hear the rhythmic thump of heavy boots against stone. He's coming and the knowledge sets my nerves tingling.

"Och, well done, lass. I was hopin' ye'd pick that braw skirt for tonight. Are ye ready for what I've got planned? Ye may speak."

"Yes, Sir."

"Brilliant. Now, stand and look at me. I've got a serious question to ask that needs all yer attention."
I work on autopilot but there's an extra buzz to my every move. I'm so excited it practically oozes from my skin.

"Sir."

"Indeed. Lass, do ye give yerself to me willingly, for my enjoyment and yer fulfillment?"

"I do, Sir."

"Will ye follow all rules set oot afore ye withoot question and speak the proper words if somethin' feels amiss to ye?"

"I will, Sir."

"Aye, good, good. Now, here's the part ye've no heard afore. Lass, will ye let me be Master o'er ye while we're safe in this room and, at times we agree upon, while we're outside these walls? Will ye submit to me body and mind, lass?"

My eyes well up with tears and open wide at his words. I expected to be asked this exact thing, but the reality is far more emotional than I'd imagined.

"I will, Sir…Master. Please."

Soothing hands run up and down my arms until they land on my shoulders and push down lightly. He's asking without words for me to kneel in front of him. He wants me to prove my words and submit now. I do so without hesitation.

Head bent, I feel the weight and coolness of metal around my neck as he fastens my collar. He does not present it to me for my approval. It's not needed nor would I give it. I'm just happy to be accepting whatever he deems fit. If I had to guess I'd say it was a choker of some sort and simple in design. I'm sure I'll have a chance to see it later in my room.

His hands fall away and I can see the muscles in his thighs go rigid before he speaks. He's wearing my favorite kilt tonight. It's black leather and made for easy access. He could have me six ways to Sunday and never take it off.

"Take me oot, lass and show me your appreciation."

My fingers, more nimble than they were two months ago when we started, open the flap in the front and fasten it to keep it from being in the way. My mouth salivates to have him in it and I drool slightly as I fight to accommodate his large cock.

"So good, lass. That's it. Suck harder, lass. Ye know what I want. Show me how much ye adore yer Master."

His words spur me on as I suck his cock in greedy mouthfuls. The moment his hands grab my hair I go boneless from the waist up and let him fuck my mouth. He's taught me how to relax my throat to make it easier to take him in. Receiving blowjobs is one of his favorite things, so we spent an inordinate amount of time making sure I could do it right.

"Fucking hell, lass. Such a good mouth. But I think I shouldnae keep going or we'll ne'er make it to the big show, ye ken?"

Looking up I see him smirking down at me and I smile, resuming my kneeling presentation until he's ready for me.

His booted feet make muffled thuds as he walk toward the large cabinet.

"On the bed, lass. I'm no goin' to take ye yer first time on the floor."

I rise to standing and walk to the large bed in the corner. He has it covered in the softest green cotton sheets that set off the dark brown of the wood. I can almost imagine myself sitting in a forest, a thought that calms me considerably.

"Lay down and wait for me."

There's more rustling from the direction of the wardrobe and then all I hear are footsteps before he sits beside me on the bed. His fingers smooth over my legs and under the small skirt to play with my clit.

"Because this is yer first time, lass, I want ye to talk to me. No punishment for telling me how ye feel or if ye're hurting, ye ken. I want to make this good for ye."

My breath hitches with anticipation. His voice is so sweet and caring. When our eyes meet I know he'll take care of me. He'll make sure this will be a night I remember warmly.

"Yes, Master."
"Good. Are ye ready, Isabella?"

I'm not sure how he expects me to answer when he's stealing my thoughts with his wicked mouth and tongue, which is currently running a trail down my stomach from my emerald clad nipples.

"Isabella?"

His voice holds a note of a threat and I find my voice.

"Yes, Master. I'm so ready. Please."

"So anxious, lass. It's one of my favorite traits." He chuckles and rips the skirt clean in half before diving in to devour my pussy. The scream I let fly is hardly from fear, unless you count fear of death due to multiple orgasms.

"Oh fuck. Yes. Right there, Master."

Gods above but he has the most talented mouth this side of the Atlantic. It swirls and dips into my pussy, tickling my entrance and making me whimper loudly. He'd already taken the liberty of breaking my hymen a few weeks ago so that tonight could be solely about pleasure. At the time I didn't think much of it, as it was a thoroughly pleasurable experience those weeks ago but as he moves to put a third finger in me, I'm grateful for his foresight. The stretch alone burns a little and he's far larger than three fingers.

"There ye go, lass. Ye'll be ready for me in no time. Mmmmm, look at that bonnie puss. So pink, and wet." He nips my hipbone, and my body responds by arching. My pussy is pushed further onto his hand for more pressure, more friction, more everything.

"Need more, Master. Please."

A loud and rough groan fills the air, replacing my whining cries.

"Ye want more, lass, then ye'll get it."

He climbs up my body, making sure to keep skin-on-skin contact the entire way and settles over me, his hands on either side of my head.

"I've been looking forward to this since the day I picked ye up off the street, lass."

His comment makes me giggle.

"What's so funny?"

I'd worry that I upset him but he's smiling that amazing smile he has that makes his whole face light up.

"Ye may speak yer mind, lass."

"You make it sound as though you found me penniless and floundering in the gutter, Master. I'm not sure I like the cheesy romance novel quality."

"Och, but ye're a cheeky one when I give ye leave, arenae ye? Well, I think I've got just the thing to steal that cheek away."

The lapping of his tongue on my tight nipples heightens his slow entry. I arch into him just as he pulls one of the snuggly fitted rings fit off my hardened buds then moves to the other, repeating the action. Once they're free of decoration he lavishes them with attention until I buck my hips into him to let him know I'm comfortable and ready.

God am I ready. My body is strung so tight that the fluttering rasp of his pelvis against my clit nearly sends me hyperventilating.

Push.

Pull.

Arch.

A few more flexes of his hips and I find my legs hitched around his waist. With the change in position his pelvis rakes across my clit with more pressure and sends me spiraling. My hands fly to his ass and pull him tight against me as I move myself along his cock, rubbing my clit on his sweaty flesh in time with my cries.

"OH….FUCK….YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…"

Over the last two months I've been honored to receive some amazingly powerful orgasms but nothing prepares me for this. The feel of him moving inside of me, filling me up is mind blowing.
As my blunt nails dig into the firm flesh of his ass I feel him tense and bite my nipple before he groans low.

"Fucking hell, Isabella!"

A few more sporadic pumps of his hips and he collapses on top of me. The weight is welcomed and serves to calm my racing heart.

"Thank you, Mas…Ed…Mas…"

"I think we both deserve a thanks, Isabella…lass. How do ye feel?"

"Like I'm floating, Master."

Epilogue

Sitting in my study I look around at the volumes of precious and rare literature that surrounds me. My husband often brings home little gifts for me to ease away the stress of his trips. I'll never tell him that it's really not all that stressful when he's away because it makes him feel good to know he's missed.
Moving to stand I hear the pitter-patter of little feet outside the door and giggles soon follow. The twins must be on the hunt for their Da. Sneaking up to the door I wrench it open and yell BOO.
"Mama! We were bein' verra quiet. How'd ye ken we were oot here?" Alisdair whines and sets his little fists on his hips.

"Well love, you're not as quiet as you think. Might I suggest socks next time so I don't hear your little feet slap on the hardwood?"

Moira giggles and wiggles her toes.

"Now, how about you two go find your big sister, Lizzie and then hurry off to the kitchen and see what Mrs. Cope has made for dinner while I go in search of Da. I need to talk to him anyway."

The twins scurry off in the direction of their sister's room and I make my way to the hidden panel we installed to keep our after hours hobby secret from the children.

As I enter the den my head dips and I assume my submissive role, as I know he expects me to.

"Evenin', lass."

"Master, the children were looking for you."

He laughs softly and pads toward me though I only know this because I hear the gentle swish of his formal kilt and see his bare feet. He must have been reorganizing the toys to help relieve stress.

"Aye, lass. They're no exactly stealthy, are they? Noo, what did ye need. I know ye didnae come all this way just to tell me our babes were itchin' to scare their Da."

"No, Master. I was wondering if…well, that is to say…" I took a large shuddering breath before continuing. "If it would please Master I'd like to serve him tonight in addition to tomorrow night."

"Do ye miss me then? Ye just had me this mornin' in our bed, lass. Are ye getting' greedy on me?"
I can hear the humor in his voice and relax into his touch. He's got my chin between his fingers and is lifting my face to meet his. I love his smile.

"Begging your pardon, Master but I want to serve only your needs as mine have been met so very well today. I miss my Master."

"Och, ye do ken how to drive a man's cock as hard as titanium, lass. Aye, I'll grant yer request this once. But we've talked aboot deviating from the schedule, lass. It doesnae do any good on a regular basis."

"Yes, Master."

Just as gently as he'd taken my chin he releases it and gives me a pointed look. I'm being dismissed.
My body turns, head down again, and I shuffle to the door. I know he's following, but I hide the smile. Once outside of the door he's Edward again and I'm Bella.

"Ye really do drive me to madness from time to time, love. Ye miss Master that much, do ye?"

My laugh echoes through the stone corridor.

"I really do, babe. Is that a problem?"

Green eyes meet my brown and he shakes his head, a slow, ornery smile forming on his mouth.

"Never. But right now yer husband wants a little more action afore he turns ye over to that monstrous pervert." A waggle of his brows and I find myself hanging upside down over his shoulder.

"Brute."

"Siren."

"Pervert."

He makes no further comment, only gives me a smack so loud it echoes and carries me to our room for a little more playtime before dinner.

And then after dinner it's playtime of a different sort.






No comments:

Post a Comment