other, forcing moans into each other’s mouths, until Ciaran’s lips tingled in delight. He pulled back and stared into those beautiful eyes. The words I love you rose to his lips, but he called them back. Instead he whispered, “Bend over and spread ye cheeks, mo ghràdh?”
A blush flashed up Red’s chest to his face almost as fast as a lightning strike over Loch Sterling. The ruddy color should not have been appealing, but it was. Everything about Red suited Ciaran. Lying on his chest across the bed, Red grabbed his arse and spread it wide. His hard cock pressed down against the side of the bed in an exquisite view. His cock was flushed and straining against the mattress, trying to find its way back to his belly.
“Och, but ye are a sight.” Retrieving the bottle of oil from the table by the bed where they’d left it last night, Ciaran uncorked it and drizzled a stream of it down Red’s crack and then over the head of Ciaran’s tadger. After rubbing the tip of him over Red’s crease several times, he finally pushed in, taking his time. The heat practically strangled his cock.
Ciaran’s head lolled backward as his bawbag got tighter. Once the head was all the way in, he looked down again to see himself seated inside Red’s arse. ’Twas one of the most erotic things Ciaran had ever seen, but his thighs tensed trying to hold still. When the tension in Red’s shoulders finally released and Red let out a noisy sigh, Ciaran allowed himself to give in to the urge riding his body hard and fast. He pushed forward, gripping Red’s hips. Red’s tight arsehole pulled Ciaran in a little at a time.
Red grunted, but he didn’t say to stop—they’d discussed that last night, agreeing to tell each other when they needed a break—so Ciaran pushed farther in until his pelvis rested against Red’s arse. Resting there, he bent and kissed the freckled shoulder, then Red’s neck. He got a chuckle in return and smiled against Red’s warm skin. He opened his mouth and bit down on the spot between neck and shoulder.
With a body-wracking shudder, Red gasped. It was a lovely sound. One that sent Ciaran’s heart aflutter. Red’s anus fluttered and clenched around him, and Ciaran could wait no more. “Are ye ready fer me?” He didn’t even recognize his own voice, it was so strangled.
“Yes.”
That was all Ciaran needed. He drove forward. They both panted. Soon it was as though he were running on instinct, chasing pleasure as his bawbag threatened to empty. Pounding into Red over and over, he watched the small hole taking him in and Red’s white knuckles as he continued to hold his arsecheeks apart. A fine sheen of sweat covered his body as Red grunted beneath him. That already tight hole tightened more, and Red stiffened. Heat splashed onto Ciaran’s left calf and foot. It took him a moment to realize that Red had come, but when he did, his body decided it liked the idea. He tried to lean back enough to see Red’s tadger, but he couldn’t. Still, the sight of the skin on Red’s back rippling, and knowing what the source of wetness was on his foot, was enough to send fire right through him. His whole body began to tighten as his bawbag emptied itself into Red.
Collapsing, Ciaran kissed Red’s shoulder. “I was going tae stroke ye.”
Red’s chuckle vibrated through Ciaran’s chest. “No need. Timothy decided he liked that position.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Ciaran kissed Red again. Och, but he loved Timothy too, and that probably made him as big a bampot as Red. “I have several other positions tae show Timothy.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Blowjobs are the best invention…. Ever! Whoever thought of them is my hero.”
—Timothy on intimate relations.
May 31, 4831: Lochwood Castle
Still glowing from the night before, Bannon walked downstairs feeling relaxed and in a good mood. Then he stepped out of the stairwell and into absolute chaos.
At least half the clan was in the great hall, and unfortunately it didn’t look like Ciaran was among them. They were all talking at once, and four of the council members were standing on the dais containing the laird’s table. They were addressing the crowd, but they weren’t having much luck. No one seemed to be listening. The room was one big deafening cacophony. Someone really needed to explain to them the benefits of taking turns and perhaps give the council a gavel. Then