Free A Perfect Wife [Highland Menage 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Reece Butler

done for our Lady Kiera. I am certain ye’ve been a good friend to her, guiding her as best ye can. I wish ye to keep doing so.”
    “But laird, I be but her lady’s maid.”
    “There were no ladies, or maids, at Duncladach, so I dinna ken yer duties. What I do wish is for ye to be whatever Kiera needs, even a scolding auntie. Keep her safe and well, and our bairns.”
    Bessie drew herself up, which brought her head to just over Malcolm’s middle. “Tisn’t sommat ye need ask, laird. Kiera is my life and always will be.”
    “Ours as well.”
    Duff’s jaw dropped when Malcolm bent and enfolded the tiny woman in his arms. After a shocked moment she hugged him back.
    “Sometimes,” he said, “lairds and lady’s maids need a wee hug. Duncladach didna have aunties.”
    “Ye come to Bessie if’n ye need a hug or a talkin’-to, laird,” she said, patting his back as if he was a lad.
    When he stood and released her they were both stiff and self-conscious.
    “My turn,” said Duff. He hadn’t held many women. Bessie was far different from Kiera. Only when he relaxed did he realize how tense she’d been. She patted him on the back as well.
    “Och, ye may be laird and steward but inside ye be just laddies, missing yer mam.”
    “We never knew her,” admitted Duff. “We had Mary for a bit, but she died of a fever long ago.”
    “Well then,” she said, “any time ye wish, I’ll treat ye like an auntie.” She attempted a scowl, which didn’t work well as she also smiled. “And that means smacking yer fingers if ye reach for too many sweets.”
    “We’ve had few sweets in our life,” said Malcolm.
    “I heard Cook say something about apple tarts,” said Duff.
    Bessie backed away. “Ye’re laird here,” she said to Malcolm. “Ye’ll get the best of everything.”
    “Only if it doesna harm others, or make them do without,” said Malcolm. “If there isna enough apple tarts for all, we will wait.”
    “Even the pot boy?” questioned Bessie.
    “Aye, even the pot boy.”
    She eyed him for a moment. “I’d best tell Cook.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” said Duff, laughing as she gave him a pretend glare and bustled off to the stairs.
    “It felt good to hold her,” said Duff. He nodded to himself. “Our bairns will grow up knowing a mother’s touch as well as a fathers’,” he added. “And Bessie will be as a granny to ’em.”
    “And our wife will be held often, starting now.”
    Duff was closer to their chamber door so reached at first. It was worth it just to see Malcolm’s frown. Duff opened the door but instead of pushing through, bowed for his brother.
    “After ye, my laird.” Malcolm passed through regally. “Inside this chamber ye’re just the groom while I am the best man.”

    * * * *

    Kiera opened her eyes to the sound of heavy breathing. She’d woken to roars and yells a while ago, then silence, so had drifted back into sleep. She was awake now with two highly aroused men standing by her bed. Her wonderfully soft, warm, perfect-for-sleeping bed. But four blue eyes gleamed with determination and two eager mouths grinned in anticipation.
    “We just want to hold ye,” said Duff.
    She looked at the matched set of what pointed at her. No, they didn’t quite match. One curved more than the other. She’d have to give the matter more attention when the time was right.
    “Aye, we wish to do more,” admitted Malcolm. “But all we’ll do is hold ye.”
    “While ye sleep,” added Duff.
    Their hard cocks bobbed as she thought it over. Her hind end had recovered fairly well with the hot bath, but she’d gone without sleep for too many nights to be wild about waking now, no matter the reason.
    “Are you saying you’ll hold me if I sleep, but if I wake there’s something else you plan on doing?”
    Malcolm jabbed his elbow into Duff. “We wish to hold and comfort ye in our bed, in our chamber, in our castle.”
    She thought for a moment. “You didn’t say ‘our wife’.”
    Duff