Thursday
Late Morning
Oh, Gryphen definitely marched to the beat of his own drum. He took his time with Ian in the stable, enjoying his body to its fullest. It was amazing that he had someone who would forever be interested in making love to him.
Or fucking.
What began as the former, ended up being the latter, and he was delighted too.
It only got spicy when Graham walked in to feed the animals before heading into town, and he found them fornicating in the hay loft.
He got quite the view of the backside of a Marine, ball’s deep in his lover.
And he heard plenty.
Because Ian was NOT quiet during sex, and NEITHER was Gryphen.
There were a lot of ‘fuck yeahs’ to be heard, echoing through the stalls.
Graham hauled ass, and his Marine went back to the mission at hand.
He didn’t stop until he filled Ian with more cum than should be legal.
The man seemed to have an endless supply, and Ian wasn’t complaining.
Instead…
He’d begged.
He’d pleaded.
Oh, and he’d been punished for breaking the rules. Who knew being forced to cum over and over again was the best punishment known to man?
Not him.
When a Marine did it, they did it, and Ian was grateful for that.
After rolling around in the hay, they got dressed, carried in wood, and then showered. They skipped breakfast, since Ian wanted to eat in town for the whole Scottish experience.
Now, they were going to get some kilts, do some shopping, eat some food, and work on their mystery.
It seemed like the perfect way to spend the day, since none of it had anything to do with what was going on back home.
Will Jackson was nowhere on their radar, and that was the essence of a perfect romantic vacation away.
It was about resting.
Relaxing.
And getting rambunctious.
That was the three Rs of their getaway.
Truthfully, now, Ian was only thinking about one thing. Oh, and it wasn’t sex.
In the back of his mind, he was thinking about a mystery and Ceit.
He was dying to know why she had cursed Ravensmire and Duncan Granndach. What could the man have possibly done?