And yet if she said yes, he was certain the three of them could face anything, as long as they were together. Scandal, the ton, his revolting family, and whatever other stinking cesspits stood in the way to their forever after. But he couldn’t pressure her. He wouldn’t pressure her. It had to be an entirely free will decision for this to succeed.
A tentative knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” he called, about all he could manage as his throat dried to desert-like conditions.
Susanna walked in wearing her brocade dressing gown, her brown hair in a braid. But she looked weary, as though she had enjoyed as little sleep as he had. “Good morning,” she said softly. “I hoped you might accompany me to Joseph’s chamber so we could talk.”
He immediately pushed the covers back and climbed clumsily out of bed. The previous evening he hadn’t bothered to get undressed, instead sleeping in his shirt and trousers, and he probably looked a fright to someone so impeccably stylish. “Of course.”
They walked in silence to Joseph’s bedchamber, and after a brief knock, Susanna entered the room with him close behind. After he’d shut the door, he met Joseph’s gaze. The other man looked nervous as hell as he sat up in bed wearing a nightshirt, his shoulders rigid and brow furrowed.
“Morning,” said Joseph cautiously.
“Good morning,” said Susanna. “I collected Clayton on the way so we could talk together.”
“What do you have to say, my dear?”
She bit her lip. “I’ve been awake all night thinking. And yet I keep reaching the same conclusion: that I cannot make a decision without all the facts. Yes, I was shocked when I saw the two of you kissing, but it wasn’t because it disgusted me. I thought it meant you only wanted each other, that you had been pretending with me.”
“No, darling,” said Clayton hoarsely. “Never that. You are a beautiful, sensual delight. But this is not about what I think. What do you want to do?”
“This may sound foolish,” Susanna said slowly, as she clasped her hands in front of her. “Perhaps it is. But until I see you touch each other…and, um, the rest, I won’t know if it is something I’ll be comfortable with.”
He nodded slowly, even as a kernel of hope unfurled. “That isn’t foolish. It’s perfectly reasonable to want to make an educated decision.”
Abruptly, Susanna shivered. “Goodness me. I didn’t think it would be quite so cold with a fire burning. Could we join you under those quilts, Joseph?”
“Please…please do.”
She discarded her dressing gown to reveal a pretty linen nightgown with a blue satin bow, and then pulled back the sheet and quilts and crawled in beside her husband. Clayton slid in beside her and lay on his side, propped on one elbow so he faced them.
“Ah, much better,” said Susanna, stretching out. “This is lovely and warm.”
Joseph yelped. “Christ Almighty, woman. Your feet are blocks of ice!”
“You should feel mine,” said Clayton. “What is icier than ice?”
They laughed, but the anticipation in the air was so thick it could practically be touched. All they needed was Susanna to say the words, and they could begin a new chapter in their lives.
“So,” she said eventually. “How do we go about this?”
“Well…” said Joseph. “What if Clayton and I tried some things while you watched? If it makes you uncomfortable, just say so, and we’ll stop.”
“Very well,” she replied. “We’ll swap places…then you two can kiss.”
In a flurry of limbs and rustle of sheets, Clayton discarded his shirt and moved to the center of the bed. He locked gazes with Joseph, and a jolt of lust settled low in his belly at the knowledge they might soon be pleasuring each other while Susanna observed. A soft sigh escaped Joseph’s mouth when Clayton cupped his face and kissed him. As in the music room, it started gentle, but swiftly turned carnal, the other man’s lips firm and yet yielding, welcoming his fierce need. Only Joseph’s nightshirt and Clayton’s trousers separated warm flesh moving against warm flesh, and the fabric both irritated and tantalized as they pressed chest to chest, a brief rubbing of their hardening cocks making them both groan.
“Touch his cock, Joseph. Take it in your mouth.”
They both stilled and turned to see a very pink-cheeked and bright-eyed Susanna.
Smiling, Clayton unfastened his trousers and shuffled back, so he was propped up on the pillows. “You heard the lady. Suck my cock. As for you, darling, I’m desperate for those pouty lips…”
Soon Susanna’s lips were so swollen she tore her mouth away, panting for breath. Then she undid the ribbon holding her nightgown bodice closed, cupped one perfect little breast, and offered it up to him. Excited beyond words, Clayton arched her over one arm and nuzzled her taut nipples, his tongue flicking and lips drawing hard, making her whimper. But Joseph, his disobedient nearly-lover, was too busy watching them to undertake his allotted task.
“Suck me, my lord,” he said, cupping Joseph’s head and stroking his hair, before pushing it downward. “Now.”
Joseph shuddered, his cock tenting his nightshirt, and he quickly settled himself between Clayton’s legs. The baron fumbled with the buttons, but at last held Clayton’s erection in his hands. Then he leaned down to rub his cheek against Clayton’s groin. Fuck. Never had it been so erotic to have another man stroke his cock, to watch him take it in his mouth and close his lips around the engorged head.
“Yes,” Clayton hissed, as he sucked on Susanna’s nipples in unison with Joseph’s truly superb sucking of his cock. “Excellent.”
In reply, Joseph swallowed him deeper. “Mmmm.”
“I’m enjoying my lady. Her breasts are almost as sweet as her hot little cunt.”
Susanna whimpered again, writhing against his arm, and the scent of her wetness fragranced the air. It was almost too much, especially with Joseph’s tongue fluttering and his lips and cheeks providing the most glorious suction, and Clayton definitely wasn’t ready to come just yet.
Abruptly he tangled his fingers in Joseph’s hair, jerking him away from his cock feast.
The baron looked up, his eyes wide. “Is…is something wrong?”
“Not at all,” said Clayton, cupping Joseph’s cheek. “But today I want to come in that perfect firm ass of yours, not your mouth.”
Joseph sent his wife a pleading glance. “Can he, Susie?”
“Yes,” she whispered, licking her lips. “I want to watch him take you. Hard.”
“Thank you, darling,” said Clayton, kissing her swiftly. “First I need to prepare him. Joseph, do you have any oil?”
“I do,” he replied, turning and reaching over to open the drawer in the small stand beside his bed. In it was a clear glass bottle of golden oil. “Here.”
“Excellent. Now, drape yourself over our laps so she can see what is done. Oh, and Joseph…I’m quite certain Susanna’s wet cunt needs your fingers, so attend to that while I attend to you.”
His eyes feverish with excitement, Joseph shoved back the quilts and moved to lie slightly diagonally; his knees between Clayton’s legs, and stomach on Clayton’s left thigh, with the rest of his torso propped on his forearms in the space between Clayton and Susanna. Fortunately Joseph wasn’t a tall man, and this was a big bed. A proper ménage would be almost impossible otherwise. “I’m ready.”
Clayton folded up Joseph’s nightshirt and caressed his ass, making him shiver. “Then let us begin.”
Watching Clayton and Joseph was a little bit like the times she’d watched the people in the alley. And yet infinitely better and more erotic, because she wasn’t a far away, lonely voyeur, but part of it. For even as her men pleasured each other, she was always on their minds.
Her men.
Susanna quivered at the thought. Indeed, she’d strolled down the path in the direction of trio when she’d told them to kiss. But when she’d instructed Joseph to suck Clayton’s cock…it seemed in her heart the deal was signed and sealed. Wa
tching them made her so wet and achy, and knowing they cared, knowing they cherished and wanted her as much as they cherished and wanted each other, was the most sensual delight of all.
Apart from having her clitoris teased, of course.
Moaning, Susanna ground her mound against Joseph’s hand. Her husband had gained so much proficiency in his abilities, and his thick, slightly calloused fingers inside her, his thumb pressing and circling her swollen clitoris, was almost too delicious. The urge to let her head fall back onto the pillows and revel in the sweet torment was strong. But if she did that, she would miss what Clayton was about to do to Joseph’s backside. And she was entirely too curious about the process.
“Yes,” she whispered, as Clayton uncorked the oil bottle and poured a quantity into his left palm, before coating the index and middle finger of his right hand in the slick liquid. Then he gently parted the firm curves, smoothing the oil around Joseph’s back entrance until it was nice and slick, and carefully worked one then two fingers inside.
Joseph gasped and arched. “More. Please.”
“What does it feel like, being touched there?” asked Susanna breathlessly, unable to stay silent.
“It’s tight, so a pinch to start,” rasped Joseph, his fingers stilling inside her. “And it aches when you get stretched. But the ache changes from discomfort to acute pleasure…ah fuck…as they stroke in and out.”
Clayton smiled. “Good answer, my lord. And very good question, darling. Feel free to ask, anytime. Because one day, I would certainly love to do this to you.”
Her quim throbbed. “You would?”
“Oh yes. Train that lush ass with my fingers and a dildo until it is ready to take a cock. It might be Joseph’s. It might be mine. Perhaps one of us will have your cunt, while the other takes your ass. You will be stuffed very, very full.”
Joseph chuckled. “She just clenched around my fingers. I think Susie likes the idea.”
More than liked it. Having a cock in her mouth and quim had been naughty enough. But two down there, in such a forbidden way…
“I want that,” she said firmly. “Soon.”
“Of course,” said Clayton gruffly, his eyes gleaming. “But for now…what if Joseph fucked you while I fucked him? Like an erotic chain link? I’ll fill him with my come, and he’ll fill you with his.”
And just like that, her arousal cooled.
“Joseph doesn’t come in me,” she said woodenly, unable to mask her sadness, and her husband gazed up at her, his expression becoming bleak.
Clayton frowned, his fingers slipping from Joseph’s backside. “Beg pardon?”
“He always spills on my belly. So I don’t become pregnant. And it breaks my heart because I want his child more than anything.”
“I’m sorry…” said Joseph rawly.
Clayton made soothing circles on her husband’s rigid back. “I know there must be an excellent reason why you haven’t given your wife the baby she craves. What is it?”
“I…uh…” Joseph replied, then his head bowed, and shoulders slumped. “Bad blood.”
“What?” said Susanna, confused and alarmed, yet utterly unwilling to let the matter drop because it seemed for the first time that he might actually tell her the truth. “I don’t understand. Turn around and explain, please.”
Reluctance in his every movement, Joseph got to his knees and settled between her and Clayton. “Back in Dublin…my grandfather was a talented musician, known as a drunk who beat his wife and children. My mother died when I was a lad, and my father was a brilliant tailor who couldn’t hold down a job for long because in the cold and damp his old injuries stiffened, and he drank to ease the pain. I did his work. When he died, I had to escape. For the next few months, I let five men repeatedly fuck me to save enough money for a ticket to England and a new life. So you see, I am definitely not the man you want siring your child.”
“Bloody hell,” breathed Clayton. “How brave you were. And how much you’ve achieved since then.”
She nodded. “So very brave. But you are entirely wrong, Joseph Fenton. I have my heart set on a son with dark hair and dark eyes. He’ll live in a happy home with a loving father to croon Irish lullabies and dress him exquisitely. And…and a loving godfather who’ll teach painting and how to use urns for door destruction. Perhaps our son will have brothers and sisters with brown hair. Or even blond…”
Her voice trailed off, and Susanna bit her lip. Oh no. She’d said too much, too soon yet again.
The silence stretched. And then Joseph said softly: “You’re saying yes. For the three of us to be together. To be a family.”
Clayton sucked in a harsh breath. “Truly? You want me to stay?”
“I am. And I do. So very much. I know it has only been a few weeks. But it just feels right. I’m sure we’ll have our trials, and even with loyal servants, more than our share of gossip and nonsense. But the alternative is unthinkable now. We work best together. An unconventional, wildly scandalous and thoroughly exciting ménage.”
He grinned hugely, his eyes over bright, and seconds later she and Joseph were hauled against his chest for a long, tight hug. “Thank you, darling. Nothing would make me happier. Although I do think we’re going to need a bigger bed.”
Joseph laughed as they held each other close. “I think so. Who would have thought…it’s three thirds that make a whole.”
“Indeed,” sniffled Susanna, fighting a losing battle against tears of joy.
“Here, now,” said Clayton, stroking circles on both their arms. “No time for that. Not when there are wishes to be granted. My lord?”
Joseph looked at her, his dark eyes shining. “Shall we try then, Susie? For…for a son?”
She tore off her nightgown, then shifted on the bed so she could lie back on the pillows, her arms curled above her head in complete surrender. Clayton and Joseph exchanged a wicked, lingering kiss before settling either side of her, each licking a trail from her inner thigh to her needy quim. She bucked, crying out as her hands tugged on their hair. They merely parted her nether curls, and holding her tender folds open, took turns sucking her clitoris and lapping up her juices until she orgasmed with an abandoned scream.
“Much better,” said Clayton, fisting his engorged cock. “Now you’re ready to be fucked hard and filled with come.”
Joseph moaned as he discarded his nightshirt. “So am I. Please.”
Almost writhing with need, Susanna spread her thighs even wider so Joseph could kneel between them. He braced himself on one hand, using his other to guide his thick cock into her soaking wet quim. When he was buried deep, and they were holding each other, both panting at the effort to remain still, she glanced at Clayton and nodded. “Now you, dearest.”
He reached for the oil bottle to pour some more into his palm. After swiftly slicking his cock, Clayton leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on Joseph’s neck. Then his fingers curled around Joseph’s waist, and he pressed forward. Although she couldn’t see the penetration, she reaped the benefit in seeing Joseph’s pleasure, feeling his cock driven further inside her, and she cried out in bliss.
“All well?” asked Clayton. “This feels so damned good…”
“Mmmm,” said Susanna, feverishly caressing Joseph’s shoulders and Clayton’s hands, her heels digging into the mattress. “So good. I’m stretched and full.”
Joseph tweaked her nipple. “Me too. Christ. The ache…I need to come. So badly.”
“Then come,” Clayton growled, thrusting hard.
The bed creaked, the rail at the head thudded against the wall, and yet those sounds were nothing compared to the symphony of raw moans as Clayton took Joseph and Joseph took her in a frenzy of straining limbs and sweat-drenched skin. Joseph came with a harsh cry, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside her as he flooded her quim with seed for the first time, and she sobbed at the glory of it, the intense sensations hurling her over the edge into her own powerful orgasm. After Joseph collapsed on top of her, C
layton thrust twice more, rocking them both, before he came with a low roar.
The two men were a hot, crushing weight, but fortunately both were aware enough to carefully withdraw. Clayton sank down beside her, and Joseph beside him, and then their lover tugged the quilts up and wrapped an arm around each of them. A sweaty, sticky, warm cocoon of perfection.
The first day of forever.
Together.
“I can’t believe Clayton is finally letting us see the painting.”
Joseph grinned at Susanna as they strolled together across the entrance hall. The elegant little invitations they had received, complete with a hilarious little caricature drawing of all three of them holding hands and dancing half-naked at a dull and stuffy ball, had specified a viewing time of precisely two o’clock. “I can’t believe he is still alive after five straight days of painting with oils. I’ve never seen anything like it, as though he was gripped by some sort of madness. If we hadn’t coaxed him out each evening with food and shoulder massages…”
“And pleasure,” added Susanna with a laugh.
“I think he might well have stayed in that room and not ate or slept or bathed or even brushed his hair. He definitely wouldn’t have changed out of his paint-splattered smock, and those buckskins.”
She sighed, a dreamy look on her face. “I must say, I’m more than a bit partial to those buckskins. So very formfitting.”
“Me too,” he admitted. “Clayton has an exceptional ass.”
“Almost as good as yours.”
“You think so?”
Susanna smiled blandly, even as her left hand moved stealthily to cup his backside and give it a light squeeze. “Definitely.”
He shivered. “What a wicked wife you are. Clayton and I will have to give you a stern tongue lashing later.”
“Oh, I certainly hope so,” she replied happily.
The last five days had been nothing short of magical, both in the bedchamber and out. Clayton had selected a chamber in their home, and they had sent a carriage to both the Piccadilly lodgings and his rooms in Guildford for all his belongings. He had measured Clayton for a new wardrobe, every layer from unmentionables to greatcoats, although that particular task had taken far longer than it should have because they kept getting distracted by his lack of clothing. Then they had visited the warehouses to select bolts of fabric. It had taken a lot of coaxing for Clayton to choose more than two, until they’d explained to him that not only did it make them happy to give him these gifts, a handsome gentleman strutting about in a range of Fenton cloth was exceedingly good for business. And he would be strutting about in the highest of circles; the Prince Regent had expressed an interest in seeing a private exhibition of Clayton’s work and having his current favorite mistress painted. Indeed, since the Princess of Wales had made her home in Italy, the future king had been remarkably amiable.
My Lord, Lady, and Gentleman (Surrey SFS Book 3) Page 7