Bride

He squeezed them, twisting them just enough to earn a half-pained grunt.

"Well, well, look at that. My virgin bride... a slattern."

His touch turned cruel and Adair choked back a whimper as his nipples were tormented mercilessly before Jon grabbed his next discovery.

The nipple clamps were surprisingly easy to attach, and the sound Adair made when he clipped them on went straight to his already throbbing cock.

There was a chain attaching to both clamps and when Jon tugged on it his bride gasped out a muttered curse.

Jon clicked his tongue.

"Such a dirty mouth... no matter, as your husband it is my duty to curb such behaviour."

He leaned close, his breath hot on the rebel's cheek.

"You'll be a proper lady in no time."

"Falbh dairich fhein!"

Adair was snarling at Jon as he chuckled and walked back over to the basket, his hand running down the soft black leather handle of the flogger, picking it and and walking it back with a promising smile.

It took a little more coaxing to shove Adair's struggling body to the side, his hip twisting over so that his buttocks was exposed along with the lower half of his marked back.

Jon sucked in a breath at the sight, his fingers instantly reaching out to it, like a beacon of light calling to him... and he was nothing but an enthralled moth helpless to follow the call.

It was beautiful-- a work of art with his name etched into every stroke.

Mine, mine, mine, it sang.

He stroked the scarred flesh, delighting in the way Adair shuddered at the contact. This was his masterpiece, from their very first meeting. His.

There was no preamble before he gripped the flogger and brought it down over the unmarked canvass of the Scotsman's plump ass, but Adair barely flinched.

He let it fly down over his rump, turning the snow-fallen flesh pink but leaving it otherwise unharmed.

"Have you learned your lesson yet? Hm?"

He let the flogger sing down Adair's back in question and smiled when that finally got him to grunt.

"I admire your strength, Adair-- always have... and yet, that doesn't stop me from wanting to find a chink in that impenetrable armour of yours so that I may peer inside. I want what no one else has yet had the privilege to see. I want to possess it."

I want to possess you.

He finally dropped the flogger and pushed Adair entirely onto his stomach, his tied arms twisting painfully in the position yet he never made a sound.

"I will not just take my pleasure, sweetling... I will take yours too."

And with that, Jon moved forward, his fingers prying open Adair's cheeks until he was inches away from the fluttering pucker. When his hot tongue breached him, that was the first time he had heard the rebel moan, an unhindered sound that was immediately swallowed as soon as he had realised he was making it.

Jon went wild, that moan surging him on as he feasted on his bride, his cock twitching at each helpless little gasp, every choked out moan of pleasure. When he reached around and found the younger man hard again, he finally pulled away, letting himself catch his breath.

"This is what it is like to be mine."

He murmured huskily, thumb circling his bride's newly wet hole gently, lovingly.

He was going to feel so good wrapped tight around his cock. So... right.

Jon brought down the flogger eight more times before he was satisfied, then patted Adair's newly smarting cheeks before he went back to the basket for the oil and a few more silk ties.

He of course knew that a rundown whorehouse in the middle of the Scottish highlands wouldn't actually carry silk ribbons for their patrons to use, but the material was nice enough for his pretty bride-- and the idea of Adair wrapped up in the finest silks stoked a fire in his belly-- so he preferred to think of them as such.

He would have to see that come to fruition one day soon though... perhaps he could take the Scot back to England, to his home...

The idea of Adair waiting for him, pining for him when he was out on the King's business... it sent a shiver up his spine.

His Adair... wrapped in silken sheets and welcoming him back with a coquettish smile, beckoning him up to his bedchamber and--

"Oh, do stop struggling boy!"

Jon snapped out when he saw Adair trying to discreetly slip his hand from one of the loosened ties.

Jon reached over and quickly fasted them again-- albeit a little tighter this time-- before sitting on the rebel's thighs and securing each leg to either corner of the bed before he could properly protest.

"I wouldn't mind putting those pretty lips to work... but those teeth look awfully sharp--"

Jon grimaced at his own words before he continued.

"But I'm sure my lovely bride wouldn't deny another kiss?"

Adair's jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he flung his head to the side in protest... yet otherwise never uttered a word of his reluctance.

"Good boy."

Adair clenched his eyes shut as Jon advanced, letting his body lay entirely over Adair's captured form before he pressed their lips together once more.

It was nice-- pleasantly sweet... but Jon wanted more.

"Kiss me back."

The command was whispered, teasing, but it was still no less than a command, and Adair treated it as such.

He squeezed his eyes tighter as he opened his lips to Jon, almost whimpering when Jon's tongue darted into his mouth with a moan.

He was grinding on Adair again, his hard cock delighting in the feel of their bodies pressed so close together... delighted in what was to come.

Jon had to spur Adair on with a tight grip in his hair when he did nothing more than leave his mouth open to be pillaged, and after a little more coaxing the Scot finally conceded-- his tongue sliding along slowly with Jon's awkwardly, his movements jagged and slow.

Jon pulled back, wondering.

"Have you never kissed anyone else before?"

He asked with a smirk, the corner of his lips twitching a little when Adair's fair skin tinged a pretty pink.

Oh, heavens.

"... I 'ave kissed before."

The Scot muttered, his eyes refusing to meet Jon's searching gaze.

"A sweet and innocent peck between young lovers is no kiss, my darling, not really."

A hand strayed up to Adair's face, gently capturing a brass curl between his fingertips and admiring the colour.

"So beautiful."

He murmured absently, ignoring the way Adair squirmed beneath him.

He showed no mercy when he pulled his young lover into another kiss, this time a heated crushing moment of lips against lips, hot tongue against hot tongue. Adair was struggling to keep up with him as he was wholly and entirely devoured by the redcoat upon him, and when they finally parted, neither of them were swift in catching their breaths.

"I have so many things to teach you, my love."

His lips formed a heated path down Adair's neck as he reached down, capturing the younger man's cock in his hold and...

Well wasn't that wonderful... his lovely bride was quickly rising to attention...

Jon chucked warmly against Adair's neck, not even bothering to explain what he had found so delightfully funny.

Adair already knew.

It didn't take much before Adair was achingly hard in his hand with the help of the oil slicking his way, and he squeezed him just enough to release a stifled groan from the Scot.

"You're so warm in my hands."

Jon whispered, his own voice turning breathy as he started to prepare the panting Scot, dipping his fingers in the oil before he circled Adair's fluttering pucker and finally breached him.

He reveled in his lovers sudden jerk, sudden cry, and he smiled as he pumped his finger in and out with a steady yet relentless pace.

"Ease yourself, darling, you're clenching me much too tightly."

He resumed his firm strokes down Adair's flagging erection as he added another finger inside of him, loving every little gasp, every visible shudder as he took the man to his peak again before stopping dead in his tracks.

Adair didn't voice his objection of such a cruel edging, but his body was quivering under him, like the abject denial of such an act was physically hurting him.

"How frightfully delicious it is to see a mind and body so at war with each other."

He murmured as he nuzzled into Adair's neck and breathed him in.

"I dinna' like this."

Adair chanted under his breath, the words more like a prayer than a curse, repeated over and over again as Adair sucked at his throat and readied himself between his bride's spread legs, slicking himself with the rest of the oil.

"You will."

That was the last thing he said as he forced himself into Adair's tight heat, a shallow groan melding with the lad's sharp inhale as he sank slowly into the resisting tightness.

When he finally seated himself entirely into his lover's core, he knew nothing could feel this good, this right... nothing could ever peak the way Adair tightened around him and whimpered helplessly into his shoulder as he was fucked deep and slow.

He never stopped touching Adair, never stopped those easy strokes on his leaking cock, never pulled his lips away from his pale flesh longer than he had too.

When Adair cried out again, Jon took his mouth, claiming it like he had his body, devouring him like a starved man feasting on his first meal.

Jon danced his fingers between their chests, capturing the forgotten chain connecting the nipple clamps and giving it an experimental tug. Adair instantly tightened around his cock as he gasped and Jon almost came right then and there, his hips speeding up the slow assault so that he was now pounding into him like a madman, one hand on the chain and the other on Adair's cock.

He tried to slow himself, his plan of a sweet and thorough show of lovemaking melding into a fast and hard act of fucking.

But Jon couldn't help it, this was what his Adair did, this is what he turned him into.

"You like it-- tell me you like it."

Jon commanded through a tight groan as he continued to slam into his bride, onwardly claiming the man beneath him who had captured him so cruelly.

Jon wrapped his arms around Adair's broad shoulders, circling him in a possessive embrace so that he could piston into him, swallowing Adair's cries when he pushed their lips together.

Adair was helpless to do anything more than take what Jon had to give him.

"You're mine."

Jon snarled, fucking him into the mattress as he neared his end, his own hand moving quickly back down to quicken Adair's end as he neared his own release.

They came together, bodies quivering simultaneously as Jon came deep inside his bride, marking him forever. Branding him as his.

Jon revelled in the feel of Adair's spend between their bellies, proof of what had happened here today-- proof of the claim Jon had carved into his soul... because Adair would forever be his, no matter whether Jon was alive or buried deep within the bowels of the earth. He had seen to that.

Jon didn't untangle himself from Adair's body, didn't pull out of his welcoming heat. Not yet.

The Scot didn't show any resistance when Jon kissed him softly on his lips, didn't show any movement at all.

He trailed his fingers over Adair's sweaty forehead before he pressed his own to it, closing his eyes as he focused of the feel of the younger man's heartbeat thumping just a little faster than steady.

"You're going to love London."

Jon whispered, tracing the line of Adair's lips before they parted for him.

Such pretty lips...

The fantasy he had envisioned before flitted once more through his mind...

...Adair lounging across the ruby antique chase of his family estate, silken sapphire robe dripping like water over his porcelain skin as he welcomed Jon home with a wide smile and a pretty blush...

Yes, he was going to love London.

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I hope you enjoyed this story, please feel free to leave a comment, I read and appreciate them all. Also feel free to leave any ideas/requests for future works, I can't promise I'll be able to write it but if I feel inspired I just might. Thanks :)