Berry held Hermione firmly, feeling her body move and sway as they progressed around the dance floor. A master of suggestion, to say nothing of seduction when he desired, he was able to increase their body contact with certain moves. Designed to be innocuous to any onlooker, to Hermione he hoped they would be arousing. To his cock they were a tease, one he knew he could control, but enjoy nevertheless.
“Well, Mione-mine”—his tone was bland and conversational, his intent not so—”do you not enjoy the way we can hold each other and enjoy these brief meshes of our bodies? My cock is anticipating all sorts of delights to be had later.” He saw her frown but felt her hand tighten, and with a swift downwards glance, her nipples outlined against her muslin.
“We cannot be overheard,” he soothed her, “if it is that what worries you.”
“Thankfully, Lud Berry; you are a wicked tease. And your cock is always anticipating all manner of delights, for which I am also thankful.”
He felt her press up against him as he skillfully maneuvered them around another couple, before curtseying to him gracefully as the waltz ended. As he returned her curtsey with an elegant bow and escorted her toward the door of the ballroom, he saw the hint of bare leg as it showed through the concealed slit up the side, so brief a glimpse it could easily be missed. Not by him, or his cock, however. He crushed his arousal brutally. Later, he told himself, you can exact retribution.
“Supper, my dear. I took the liberty of securing your company for it.” He watched a myriad of expressions cross her face before she laughed.
“I give in, my lord. I see you know me well. What would you have done if I had chosen another escort?”
“You would not,” he replied simply. “We both stick to the rules of our arrangement. Supper tonight is part of them, we agreed.”
She allowed him to seat her and procure her a plate of the delicacies on offer. For several moments, both partook of those sweetmeats and savories, speaking of trivialities to each other and any passing acquaintances. Berry surveyed her, libido rising, watching as she ate with the same sensual manner that she invested in all her actions. Enjoying watching her, as well as the flavors of his meal and the thought of his lover’s taste, he sat back once replete and waited.
He contemplated the expressions chasing over her face. How amazing was the way their voices spoke trivialities, and their minds thought anything but.
“True.” She finally responded to his last spoken thought. “But then, my lord—” She paused, licked one delicate finger with the same sensual action as she licked his cock. “Well, then, after a crab patty and a chicken leg, I feel it is time for me to retire from this festivity. I trust you will procure my carriage?”
He bowed his head. “Difficult though it is to disallow me your presence, I will do so, in the knowledge of my pleasure at meeting you later.”
Ah, sweet tongued as well as sweet fingered. What would she do? Knowing was not always the same as doing. But first a farewell to her aunt who was deep in penny-stakes faro, then a thank-you to her hosts, before a welcome retreat with Berry’s “until later” ringing in her ears.
Her carriage was procured, and a mere ten minutes later, Hermione was entering her own establishment and entreating her staff not to wait up for her aunt. Judging by the look Sophia had given her, she would not be gracing her bed in Hermione’s residence that night. All the better. Hermione had ideas about the coming hours. One, conceivably, she would prefer Sophia to be ignorant of.
Her maid dismissed, Hermione removed the long, plain night rail she had been so recently helped into and slipped her arms into a sheer silk covering. Or, non-covering, she thought, amused as she was tying the first of the silken ribbons that held its two sides together and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Rosy nipples showed through the material, their darkened surrounds providing a guide to their presence. Lower, the shadow of dark curls hid her pussy, or was it that they showed the way to where it waited, impatient to feel the hard, usually impatient cocks that it welcomed? Oh, the joy of having no pretense, being able to be honest and open about her enjoyment of the act of lovemaking these last months, had been so satisfying; those to come promised to be even more so.
Tying the lowest set of ribbons, barely inches below those curls, Hermione could not control her compunction to sooth the throbbing concealed within. Her hand slipped beneath the ribbons and touched. She closed her eyes to feel with her senses. Ah, that first swirl through her curls and then the sheer pleasure of touching her now wet lips, finding her fingers coated with the evidence of her desire. The intensity of her feelings shot through her like lightening, and she gasped. Not from her arousal, however.
A swath of velvet covered her eyes.
As she caught her breath, soft hands feathered across her nape as the material was fastened. Then her hair was pushed to one side, and she experienced the press of lips, kissing where the ribbons from the velvet knot brushed her back.
“My love, you started without me? For shame. How shall I punish you?”
Her breath quickened. Her punishment had started! Knowing what those elegant hands were capable of and unable to see how they explored and excited her to ever more passion was punishment enough. As her tormentor well knew.
“You were late, my lord; the play started on time, alas without your attendance.”
A soft laugh greeted her remark. “Ah, Mione-mine. I would be lost without you in my life. Shall I begin Act Two?”
Oh, if it so pleases you, and three, four, and five. However, never would she allow her eagerness to show.
“As you wish, my lord. Does it please you to leave me so hampered that I cannot observe?”
She could almost hear his pondering. “Ah, I think so. Perchance you simply imagine and feel, my love.”
She pouted, although her heart thundered, and her arousal increased with thoughts of further intimacies to be experienced. His taut clothed male body was tight up against her back, a rock-hard cock pressed tight against her rear. Hermione had to curb her impatience to wriggle ever closer to that exciting appendage. She knew her control would excite him even further. She held her hands loosely by her sides, not moving them behind her to touch and caress as she desired to do with ever-increasing intent.
“Ah, Mione-mine.”—there was a growl of frustration—”You so do arouse me to such a degree I fear I may not be able to hold back to give you the satisfaction you deserve.”
“Say you so, my lord? That is something I cannot believe; your control is legendary, your stamina even more so. I cannot believe you have ever come without intending to.” She felt his frustration and rejoiced.
A sudden, sharp slap on her rear added to her jubilation. The sting and the soothing hand that followed—the way it swept aside the silk covering of her gown, before elegant fingers traced around her anus—made her draw breath. She heard the soft sibilant, “Ah, yes.” As she was spun around full circle, hands caressing as they spun her, her nipples, her breasts, her pussy, all fondled as they were skimmed and swept over. She could feel the brush of fingers on her sensitized skin as the ties across her front were loosened. Regardless, her arse was caressed, her silks slithering gently over her sensitized body.
A thought drifted into her mind, took hold, and made her act. How could one man’s hands be in so many places at once? Impossible! Firmly she took hold of the two hands at her ties, and held fast, still feeling those that were softly stroking her arse. How dare she be used so!
“I think not. My Lord Stray, remove your hands also. I did not ask or desire the two of you here tonight, neither will I countenance it. My Lord Rakes, if you do not desist from attacking my ties, my knee will attack your groin. Hard. Your choices, my lords. My choice is to be unmasked.” Unfortunately, but in no manner would they manipulate her so.
She waited, barely refraining from tapping her foot in frustration. Her eyes were uncovered, and she blinked in the candlelight. Then she did tap her foot. With anger.
“As I thought.
” She regarded the two men standing in front of her, one tall and dark with saturnine grace, the other fair as any angel. “You seek to try to trick me, my lords? Into what, may I be so bold to ask?” She looked from one to the other. “What gives you the right? Forsooth you are both aptly named. Stray! Raykes! Either fits.”
Neither man spoke.
“Cowards also? And to think I have given my body to each of you freely, allowed you to enter me with those craven cocks. I despair of my intelligence. And yours as well.” Still she waited. “No answer? Then I suggest you leave my bedchamber, and I will service myself. More trustworthy and satisfactory.”
Two choked laughs turned hastily into coughs were her response. Her eyes flashed, and she found her hands itching to slap those two faces in the same manner as her arse was slapped earlier, only harder.
“I am waiting. Do I justify a reply?”
“My love.” That was Berry.
“And mine,” an interpolation from Ran.
“You may choose to think so; however, I fear at this moment I am not so disposed.”
She looked from one to another. Their expressions, contrite but eager, almost gave her cause to laugh, but she restrained. She had chosen not to speak to them together until the morrow, therefore she would not. Instead she sighed deeply, extravagantly.
“Still you have no defense for your actions? To my knowledge, my invitation tonight was to the Earl of Stray, and to him alone. How therefore, do I find you, Lord Ranulph, here in my bedchamber? I thought to meet you tomorrow, did I not?”
Slowly, deliberately she retied the ribbons of her gown. She omitted to retie the final set, thus leaving her curls tantalizingly visible, on teasing display, glistening with the evidence of her earlier arousal.
“My apologies, my lady. In truth I was impatient to help show you, give you a hint of the delights you could experience with us both. ‘Tis I who am to blame for this evening’s fracas. I crave your indulgence for my mistake.” Try as he might, she noted, Ran did not quite manage to sound repentant.
“Bollocks.” Her voice, she knew, was strident, but truly, did he think her so lacking in acumen that she would not know there were two partners in this crime? “You two work together. Do you think I am unaware of your proclivities when not with me? Both of you have been honest and vocal about your nights of fucking. You underestimate my intelligence.”
“Mion…Hermione, we beg your pardon.” That was Berry, his velvet voice soft and intending to soothe. Unfortunately, it did the opposite.
“Not given. Why did you think I would accept something such as this when I told you I would give my decision on the morrow? Why choose to hustle me in such a manner?”
She could see Ran choosing his words with care and laughed inwardly. In truth, she was nowhere as near as agitated as she portrayed. Her interest was piqued as to hear their explanations.
“I chose to join you both, to have an input in your decision, by helping to show you the delights and excitements available should you choose to accept us both together. For two months now you have, I believe, enjoyed us both separately.”
She nodded. No need to prevaricate, as they both knew that was true.
“Therefore,” Berry continued smoothly, “when Ran put his suggestion to me, I acquiesced immediately. For to experience we two together will, I feel, be the pinnacle of all excitements offered.”
“You may feel so, but I did not choose to know so as of yet. If ever. I confess I am gravely disappointed.” Berry’s eyes hardened, a look similar to the one she noticed in Ran’s eyes. Ah, they are going to push for an ultimatum? So be it.
“As are we, my love. Our apologies if we have advocated for your decision earlier than you wished. But you have made your choice else why ask to meet with us on the morrow? Am I right?”
Hermione nodded and took a deep breath. This was the time to make known the resolution that would herewith shape her life.
“May you now inform us of your decision? Are we to be three together, instead of three apart? Well, Mione-mine, are you to be Mione-ours? Let us come together, indulge and enjoy us as three, whether as participators or as spectators.”
Berry watched her face. Surely, she would not hold their foolish eagerness against them? He waited impatiently and held his breath. Slowly she looked from one to the other. Beside him he felt Ran’s anxiety.
“My lords, I thank you for your kind offer. I fear I am unable to avail myself of it.” Her tone was frosty, her demeanor glacial. “Now I bid you goodnight.” She walked to the door and opened it.
For a moment, time was frozen. No one moved or spoke.
“This.” Ran spoke oppressively. “Is not the end, my dear. Merely a new beginning.”
As Berry looked at her, she straightened her spine.
“You think so?” Her tone was conversational. “We will see.”
Berry gave an elegant leg and watched as Ran took one of her unyielding hands in his and kissed the back.
“Indeed so. Until eleven.”
Her indrawn breath almost gave him cause to chuckle.
Chapter Two
Berry ushered Ran from the house and watched him shake his head as they exited the garden via a gate that until the last few months was little used. Once shaky and with a distinctive creak, it now opened swiftly and silently.
Even at this hour, Berry was dressed in his usual gray, albeit in shades so drab as not to stand out. Beside him, Ran wore his eveningwear with his customary style and panache. Both men supported clean, elegant lines, spotless linens, and perfectly tied cravats. Both heads had hair carefully sculpted and styled a la Brutus, their curls clipped and tamed. Dandies personified, in the best ways possible. Their strength was never to be underestimated; their power and influence were equally so considered and unchallenged by none but the foolish. Talk of their predilections occurred only in hushed tones, only ever hinted at in so general a way that no offense could be taken.
The ton knew that to get on the wrong side of either of them was to commit social suicide. Such was their sway over their peers, something neither chose to challenge nor to refute. If talk of any other activities they were involved in was broached, it was soon scotched and denied, the tattle-monger quickly deciding an extended visit to the country was in his or her best interests.
“What is it with women?” Ran asked seemingly rhetorically, as they ambled along the street, not bothering with a hackney as their long legs easily carried them the yards. “For truth, Berry, she enjoys our cocks in her singularly, has no compunction in allowing us access to all of that delectable body, so why not jointly? Has it not been hinted at and subtly shown as an interest?”
Berry looked at his partner. “We pushed; she shoved. Hermione will never be subservient, so she intends to call the shots. I have no quarrel with that. Tonight we thought with our cocks, not our brains. Although I suspect, if we were foolish enough to share that information with her, she would inform us they are one and the same. A misjudgment on our part, I fear. Not one we will make again.”
“For sure, I felt she would be aroused and excited by the thought of us both with her together.”
Berry pondered on the vagary of women, specifically one woman—their woman. For she was and would ever be; he would make sure of that.
“She was,” he said briefly. “I could sense her arousal, smell her sex scent. If we had waited and presented her with such a scenario on the morrow after she agreed to our request, I perceive the end result would have been vastly different.” He flung an arm around Ran’s shoulder in a manner not to arouse suspicion or cause upset to any onlooker should there be anyone else abroad at such an hour.
“So, my dear Ran, we will have to do with each other tonight. No hardship for me, I assure you.”
Ran laughed. “Or for me. My ‘ship’ is hard already. Do I dock tonight, or do you?”
Berry gave a quick squeeze of the shoulder he held before moving away. “Why not both? The night is yet young. I am inclined to
service and be serviced. What say you?”
“I need not dignify that question with an answer, as you will know what that answer will be. Do we dice for the order of service?” In the light of the street lamp, Berry saw Ran’s eyes were alight with laughter and desire. His already stiffening cock increased its rate of readiness. “I will generously remember I was relieved of my agony first when last we met and bow to you succeeding thus tonight. I will control my desire, I trust!” He ended with a rueful look at the way his pantaloons were stretched. He saw Ran follow his gaze and swallow hard.
“Maybe a little nurturing might be on the cards, for I do not believe either of us will be satisfied easily this night.”
He could well be right—his cock was throbbing with greedy need. He picked up his pace, each step matched by Ran.
The first door they reached was his own; Ran’s being but mere yards farther. By one accord they entered his house where, at his express command, no servant waited, just a sconce lit to guide their way. He paused only to secure the door, before walking purposefully toward the stairs, Ran close behind. He was so horny; it took all his strength not to pull down his britches, stick his arse in the air, and demand Ran mount him and not the stairs. Only the thought that their activities would wake the household stopped him. Instead he increased his pace.
Once through the bedroom door, he kicked it shut before pushing Ran against it, fusing their mouths together, his tongue purposeful, his intent clear, his hands busy. What would Hermione think if she was to see them now? Could she even hazard a guess at what she was missing?
***
To Please a Lady Page 2