Alistair laughed outright. “So you gave yourself to him. Denied him, then gave yourself to him again?”
Her lips quirked up. “I suppose that does sound absurd doesn’t it? Well from there on we futtered whenever he came by, but we simply stopped doing much else. I would always ask to do other activities. He would say yes we will picnic on the hill or drive to the lake. When the time came he always seemed to need to spend his attentions elsewhere. He even told me I would be his lady of Elm Place and mother to his son someday. I feel that was a false.”
The rogue! Alistair’s teeth clenched tight. How could any self-respecting gentleman raise the hopes of such a fine woman. He inwardly cringed. You, yourself Alistair, have often shrugged off gentlemanly behaviors in search of your own pleasure. Who are you to judge? “I am truly sorry, Sophia. He is not a man of integrity. He is worse than a wolf at the henhouse.” He grasped Sophia’s hand to try to brace her for the information he had to bestow. “I am here with Anne. She is a matchmaker of sorts for men looking for specific needs in a second wife. Lord Quinton contacted her with specific requirements.” He stopped just beside the gate to her home and turned to her.
Tears silently ran down her cheek. The scoundrel! My God if he ever saw the bastard again he would uncork him.
“Sophia. I will help take your mind off that fop of a man.” He leaned down and kissed her salty tear-stained cheeks, then pressed his lips firmly to her mouth.
Her lips stayed firmly closed. He traced the slit of her mouth with his tongue and she yielded. Her body leaned against his. Her fingers rose and fisted in his coat, pulling and gripping him.
Leaning down he wrapped one of his arms beneath her leg and the other about her torso and lifted her.
She moaned softly into his mouth then pulled from his embrace. “Alistair, show me how to forget him.”
He pushed through the door to her cottage and shut it with the heel of his boot. Forgetting was something he could not help her do, but to help her see there was more she could yearn for. She had nothing to be insecure about a future filled with passion and…love. Such a striking woman should never fear such a fate as loneliness. Alistair shook himself. Such dribble coming from his mind. Is this what fresh air and a long soak in the tub did to him? Anne was right: he had become a limp weed. He gritted his teeth.
“Where is your room?”
She pointed down a long hall. “At the end.”
He held her tightly to his chest. The floral tones of her skin captivated his senses. His stomach fell. What in damnation caused his stomach to ripple such?
Reaching the room he set her feet on the floor. “Sophia, please take off your cloak and boots.” His tongue glided out and wet his lips. Grasp yourself, Alistair; you want to have your pleasure with her so stop with all these mad thoughts.
He turned and closed the door to her room, then walked to a small chair she had set in the corner. His heart beat a steady hard pulse in his chest. Blast and damn Anne. He would never forgive her for this trip.
He unbuttoned his coat and slid it down and off his shoulders. Reaching up, he unwound his cravat and pulled it from his neck. He laid both items on the back of the chair and inhaled deep. Turning, he sat facing Sophia.
She stood by the side of the bed. Cloak off, boots removed with her hands clasped behind her back. Her gaze wouldn’t meet his.
“Sophia, do you wish to change your mind?”
“No!”
“What is on your mind, then?”
“I simply wish to join with you, Alistair, and hear you take your pleasure.”
“You do not wish for your own? To be brought to the edge of bliss and pushed over?”
“I—I.” She glanced up at him and then bit her lip. “I simply wish to know what futter with you is like. If it brings me to spend, that is nice. If it does not…” Her face grew intensely red. “I have a false phallus. My husband got it for me before he left for the war.”
“A false phallus?” He grinned. “You are a naughty wench, indeed. You wish me to do as I wish with you, then?”
“Indeed, sir.”
Alistair’s heart pounded in his chest. She offered him her body to do with what he wished. The problem was her body alone was so much less than what he wanted. His throat closed and he swallowed only to cough on his spit.
He had the desire to get inside her mind and know what kind of tea she liked to drink. If she wished the horrid stinking water sweet and with milk. He wanted to know what if anything made her thrilled. What in damnation had this wench done to him? The urge to protect her was one thing, to bring her tea and cookies appalled him! Futter her, Alistair. Make sure her pup returns, then leave.
“Sophia, take off all of your clothing. Do so one piece at a time.”
Sophia’s hands rose and her fingers traced the neckline of her dress. “You will need to unbutton me.”
He stared at her from across the room, his cock hard as a stone false prick, and his heart beating like the first time he saw a wet nurse’s breasts. “Step forward and come to me.”
Sophia stepped forward and stood directly before him.
“Turn about.”
She turned and her skirts brushed the insides of his thighs. Tingles, as if someone ran a feather taunting his nerves flowed up his legs to his cock. He twitched in the confines of his trousers. He had not found his release since yesterday’s interruption in the carriage…followed by him stopping his spend as he futtered Sophia against the wall of the bathhouse.
His sack grew tender and the pressure of release promised him a blissful eruption. He reached up, and his fingertips brushed along the short row of buttons. He pinched each one through the hole as quickly as he could.
“I am done, Sophia. Now step back so I can watch you undress.”
Sophia stepped forward two steps and turned. Her dress catching on her heel and sliding from her shoulders to the floor. She giggled and turned to face him. “I suppose I won’t be slowly taking my dress off.” She smiled so vividly, joy sparked her eyes.
The wench! His gaze slid over her pale skin and deep brown hair. Her green eyes showed her emotions as if a painting for all to see.
Her figure, concealed in her white shift and half corset, was plush with curves. She would make any man pant like a cat in heat.
His cock twitched in his breeches. What indeed would he do with her? “Do you need assistance with your corset as well, Sophia?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Do you wish me to remove my corset, Alistair?”
“Indeed I wish to see your naked form.”
“Then I shall remove it for you.” She grasped the top of the garment and pushed it slightly together. One fastener at a time she undid the garment. The corset fell to the floor and left her standing in her chemise and stockings.
“The shift, Sophia.”
She grasped the hem of the cotton shift and lifted it up and over her head in a movement that was quick and entirely unseductive.
The wench! She did that on purpose.
She stood before him naked, except for her wool stockings, and his cock dribbled in his pants. His attraction to her was not simply physical. Stop that, Alistair…Any further thought was simply ridiculous. He never wanted more than friendship from his girls. This strife pulsing though him had to be that idiot Quinton. His poor behavior made him want Sophia to remain safe. Unease and unfamiliar panic sliced through him.
“Lay back on the bed, Sophia.” She turned toward the bed and crawled upon it. Her bottom displayed to him in complete round temptation. “Stay like so!” He couldn’t allow himself to see her obtain her release. He simply needed to take his in her and leave. He hated the thought of treating her in such a manner, but whatever caused these strange urges and sensations in him simply would not do! “Do you have an herb cloth or lemon or something of the sort, Sophia?”
“Indeed, sir. I have them on the stand by the window.”
He glanced to the bed stand by the window and saw long
strips of cotton and a bottle of oil infused with herbs. He grasped one of the strips and placed it in a bowl, then poured the oil over it, soaking the cloth thoroughly. He grasped the bowl and walked back to Sophia.
“May I?” He placed his hand on the round swell of her bottom.
“Yes.”
He set the bowl on the sheets between her legs. His hand slid down the crack of her bottom to her pussy. He parted her swollen folds and slid his fingers into her. Warm slick wet cunt oil greeted him. She moaned and shifted her bottom invitingly. As he pressed his finger all the way in, she arched her back and pushed her bottom up to him.
“You are so ready for a thorough ravaging, Sophia.”
“Mmmmm.” Her body quivered.
His fingers slid in and out of her with ease. He added a second and on exit he spread her opening wide.
“Oh! Mmmm. Oh!” She stilled.
His opposite hand reached down between her legs and grasped the piece of cotton soaked in the oil. He picked it up and allowed some of the excess oil to drizzle into the bowl. He placed the cloth at her opening and pushed the wad up inside as far as his fingers could reach. He removed his fingers and rubbed her ivory bottom gently with his hands.
“Are you ready for me, Sophia?”
“Yes, oh, yes. Please take your pleasure in me.”
He unfastened the buttons to his flap and pulled his cock out. “Lean down on your shoulders Sophia and place your hands on the small of your back.”
She hesitated and glanced back over her shoulder at him.
“Sophia?” He slipped his fingers into her cunt and back out. The warmth of her and increased slickness from the sponge tightened his sack, and his cock wavered in the air seeking out the warmth of her. He wanted to be buried deep in her spongy soft flesh. “Sweet, ma’am, you are so ready for me…Your hands on your back. Now.”
She leaned down and placed her shoulders on the bed covers. Her head turned to the side, and her hands reached back.
“Grasp your wrists.”
Her fingers wrapped about the opposite wrists and her bottom arched up into the perfect position for deep thrusts.
He grasped her hip and knelt up on the bed behind her. His prick head glided between the upturned cheeks of her bottom. The hot oil of her cunny touched the tip of his prick and he slid forward. The velvet softness of her inside encased him in slick molten warmth.
He grasped each one of her wrists in his and pulled her into him. Using her arms as if ropes he moved her back and forth. His prick slid in and out of her with force. Their skin slapped together.
The sight of cock disappearing into her was a sight he relished. My God, he needed to spend this time and this time he would fill Sophia with his seed and erase that rogue from her mind.
She moaned and shook. Her inner muscles rippled. He increased the ferocity of his buck. Her bum hit his legs and thighs and a sensuous wave of pleasure tightened all his muscles. His sack hit her pussy. The sound alone kept him teetering on the edge of spending. Her sweet dewed flesh clasped him. “Oh! Oh! Oh!”
“Sophia I want you to not make a sound, do you understand me, even if you are going to spend I don’t want to hear a whisper from you. Only your breath.”
Her entire body trembled at those words. He knew she would enjoy being told what to do. Her body quaked. A spend close for her.
As he pushed into her wet flesh, all the muscles of his stomach flamed, and warmth spread through his being.
She shook and her muscles clenched tight. Her breath came out in a tumble and her cunny watered.
My God! The hot molten liquid undid him. His head spun and the first of the mind-numbing squirts sprayed from him as if he emptied his soul into her. Fever spread through him and he screamed. “Sweet woman!”
He released her hands and they flopped to either side of her. His hand steadied himself on her bottom. “Sophia, I am going to stand back and button my flap. I want you to roll onto your back and grab your false phallus and start to frig yourself. I will leave now and go search for Bo. I want you to make yourself spend one more time after I leave. Now not a sound as I stand back.”
He pushed himself back from her, his softening cock sliding from her body as his seed dripped to the bedclothes below. She turned over as he buttoned his flap. Their eyes met and held. A content smile crossed her face, and she lowered her gaze from him.
His skin tingled everywhere simply from her expression. What in damnation was he thinking? He sat in the chair and pulled on his boots. He needed to fence, or to play cards. He needed a very stiff drink and miles between him and the fresh stink of county air and twisting thoughts.
She reached to the side of her bed and pulled out a green stone phallus. He stood and pulled on his coat. He walked to her and leaned down. His lips pressed to the salty sex scented skin of her cheek. “I want you to make all the noise you want as you spend without me this time.”
He pushed away from her and walked to the door. Pulling the door open, he walked down the hallway. Now, where to find a wandering pup?
He smiled to himself. It was growing clear: Sophia meant more than simple pleasure to him…. He was searching for her pup and so well on the way to making a blunder out of his existence. He inhaled deep and sighed. Find the pup, uncork Quinton, and leave. That was the plan indeed. Why had he gotten out of Anne’s stinking carriage?
Chapter 6
Quinton pushed open the door to Sophia’s cottage. Bo did not greet him at the door as usual, nor was there a sound anywhere. His brow drew tight. Where was Bo? Was Sophia home? He walked forward, his boots echoing on the hardwood floor. He had always liked this house, though her husband had never kept it quite as nice as he would.
He strode forward and down the hall toward her bedroom. The door stood closed. He walked to it and inhaled deep. What exactly would he say to her? “Sophia. I know I lied to you, but can you please forgive me and let me futter you now? I so need to feel your body shaking beneath mine.” He rolled his eyes. Never would she accept that.
He grasped the handle on the door. A low moan came from behind it. His brow drew together and he froze his hand, gripping the door handle a fraction tighter.
He placed his ear to the crack in the doorframe and listened. The familiar sound of the bed creaking echoed behind the door. She made very little sound. Something was amiss.
“Sweet woman!” Alistair’s smooth polished groan rose every fine hair on Quinn’s neck, and his teeth clenched tight.
Alistair just buttered Sophia. His Sophia.
How dare she do such a thing to him? How dare she…
Get ahold of yourself, Quinn. You are looking for a different bride, when you told her she was your lady. She may be yours now…but searching elsewhere for fulfillment of your marital needs is not something she would take lightly. The shock when you tell her will devastate her.
Maybe she already knew. That really was the only reason he could think of for her futtering another man when he fulfilled her so thoroughly in the act.
Alistair’s mumbles grew closer to the door. Quinton strode back down the hall and ducked into the next bedroom.
He shut the door slightly and peered out the crack in the back of the door. Alistair opened the door to Sophia’s room and walked down the hall to the main room. The door to the outside opened and closed and then there was silence. Quinton opened the door and stepped back out into the hallway. He turned toward Sophia’s room and his heart lodged in his throat.
Sophia lay on her bed. Her thighs open and her stone prick out in her hand.
Alistair had not fulfilled her.
Relief flooded Quinton and his chest loosened. She placed the stone between her legs and slowly moved the cock back and forth. She closed her eyes and her hips arched with each slip of the false phallus. Quinn’s cock flooded with blood filling him to that same rigidity as the fake phallus in her hand.
The need to be inside her, claiming her, after Alistair had so recklessly left her aching for more
swallowed him whole.
He undid the buttons to his trousers and then carefully watching her movements slid first one boot off then the other. He slid his trousers down. And stepped out of them, leaving them in there exact location on the floor in the hall. She continued to futter herself, her hips arching and flexing to each stroke.
He strode into her room. She made no movement to indicate awareness of his presence. He walked up to her and stood gazing down on the beauty that was she. Her ivory skin and doll round face. Her amazing green eyes, which now were hidden by her lids. The expression on her face was one of close rapture.
She slid the phallus down into her opening. Her pussy lips pouted open and the white cream of Alistair’s seed coated the outside of her nether lips. Possession flooded Quinton. He would be damned if he couldn’t prove to her that she was his no matter whom she tried to replace him with. “You appear in need of a good release, Sophia. I would be more than happy to oblige.”
Sophia jumped and opened her eyes. Quinton stood over her. His trousers and boot removed and his beautiful thick cock standing straight from his body. Her heart lodged in her throat. Had Alistair and he passed on the path back to Elm Place, or had he been here in this house listening to them futter?
My God! What had she done? Quinton would be livid if he knew. Yet, she wanted to have Quinton give her release. She wanted for him to slide his thick cock inside her and make her gush like he always did. She wanted that delicious wet spot on the sheets and the scent of their futter lingering in the house for days. No, Sophia, that is wrong. The desire to futter another man when she just had futtered another was scandalous and wicked.
Her heart sped, and a thrilling chill raced her skin.
Stop, Sophia. You need to tell Quinton what happened even if he already knows. She was indeed a wanton. A wanton, who wanted to have her release with this man one last time before sending him away for good. An intense gushing release unlike the one Alistair provided her with. One Quinton knew how to do well.
Alistair thrilled her in an entirely different way, but the futter between them was not as practiced, there was a strain to the act, all caused by Quinton and his lies. Futter with Quinton had always surpassed her expectations. She wanted to feel that rush one more time no matter how scandalous this act would be.
A Red Hot Valentine's Day Page 5