Brothers In Arms 05: Retreat From Love

by Samantha Kane

  The weight of him was glorious. She hadn’t known what she was missing yesterday. Hadn’t known how good it would feel to have him pressing her down in the cushions, adjusting his body so as not to crush her yet unable to stop himself from thrusting against her.

  “Brett,” she cried out. “Yes, darling.”

  Anne reached between them to undo the fall front of his trousers at the same time his hand went down and grasped her skirts, yanking them up. He pulled off her just enough to get her skirt up around her waist. Anne desperately missed his warmth, his weight. She sat up and frantically began to unbutton his trousers. Their fumbling hands got in the way of each other, but they didn’t care.

  When his trousers were undone Brett shoved at his underwear until they were down far enough for his cock to escape. When it sprang free Anne greedily grabbed it. It was as exciting as it had been yesterday. As thick around as her wrist, pulsing with life, the head dark brown, flushed with pink, shiny with the moisture that leaked out onto her hands.

  “God yes, Anne, touch me.” Brett gasped as she pumped her fist down his length and back up again, the skin hot and as soft as his lips over an astoundingly firm core.

  “I dreamed of this,” Anne confessed. The words came pouring out though she tried to stop them. “I dreamed of you. I imagined what you would be like.” She looked up at his flushed face, his glazed eyes, his lips parted as he panted his arousal. “I wanted you like this,” she whispered. “From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you like this.”

  “Take me then,” Brett told her roughly, forcing her onto her back. He grabbed both of her legs behind the knees and raised them high, until she was fully exposed, vulnerable. Anne threw her head back and mewled with pleasure. Brett shoved himself between her spread legs, his hips holding her wide open, and she felt his cock for a split second against her opening before he thrust inside.

  “Ahhh,” she shrieked as both pain and pleasure streaked through her. He was so big, she was so full. She bit her lip hard and panted through the burn of his abrupt entry even as she felt her sex ripple around him in excruciating pleasure at being filled again. Brett was frozen above her, and she realized he was concentrating very hard to hold still. His face was harsh and pained as he breathed deeply through his nose, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “Move, damn you,” she whispered. “Make me take you.”

  Brett pulled out and slammed back in and Anne rode the wildness of him. “Yes, yes,” she panted, “more.”

  “More, more,” Brett said harshly, punctuating each word with a deep, hard thrust. “You always want more. I love that you want more.” His hands went from her knees to her hips and he hauled them higher, the angle of his penetration becoming sharper and deeper and Anne stifled another shriek as pleasure ripped through her. “That’s right. I’ve got more to give you.” Brett’s whispered words barely registered in Anne’s lust-fogged brain.

  “You feel so good,” she moaned. “Do you know how good you feel? God! You’re so thick, Brett, so wide and wonderful. Harder, fuck me harder.”

  Strong arms suddenly hauled her upright, so she was straddling his lap, his cock buried deeply within her as his lips slammed down on hers again. Brett kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough. He ate at her mouth as if she were bread and water, the very sustenance of life. Anne wrapped his desperation around her and wallowed in it. She let him support all of her weight, grinding down on him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, one hand buried in his hair, pulling it roughly in her fist, holding him to her. Finally they had to come up for air. With a gasp they broke their kiss.

  Brett stared at her, and she was confused by what she saw in his face. He looked sad, angry, desperate. But when he lay her back down, he was infinitely tender. Suddenly the urgency of their coupling was gone, leaving a deep well of need and tenderness behind. “Love me, Brett,” Anne whispered.

  “I…” Brett never finished the thought. Instead he gently raised her hips again and moved deeply and slowly within her, crawling closer until his thrusts dragged his cock against a sensitive place inside her, a place that exploded with sensation with each move, until she was seeing stars and her hands trembled against his shoulders.

  A movement at the door caught Anne’s eye and she turned her head, feeling as if she were trying to move underwater as Brett continued his exquisite torture. Freddy leaned back against the closed door, his hat on a nearby table, his gloved hand palming his hard cock through his trousers. When Anne’s gaze met his he straightened away from the door and started to pull off his gloves.

  “Leave them on,” she gasped. “Leave your gloves on.”

  Chapter Ten

  August 10, 1811

  Anne,

  We sit idle. If only my mind were as kind as Wellington. All this time on my hands has me thinking of you almost constantly. What are you doing? Are you helping Mrs. Tilton with her shopping? Are you mending the parsonage linen? Are you smiling and laughing and kissing some man under the willows at the pond?

  No, I know that last is not true. Not even if you know that Bertie has been unfaithful. And you do know, don’t you? But you’ll forgive him, or so he assures me. I cannot be so inconsistent, Anne. No other’s face or form appeals any longer. I must see your face. I must hold your form. I cannot envision another ever moving me as you do. If such a person comes along, then I shall give them what is left of my heart. Because I have kept a little, I think. If you were here with us now, if I could truly smell your hair and hear your voice, then I think that even if another were to come along I would not see them or recognize them. This is all moot, of course. I have not forgotten that your heart belongs to another, and in spite of everything, his heart belongs to you.

  Do I sound sanctimonious? Anything but that, dear Anne! But I suppose I am the kind of man who always tries to do what is right. I cannot change who I am. I will not let this war change who I am.

  There are some here who have become closer than brothers. I have wondered, were it not for you, would Bertie and I have done the same? The answer is unequivocally no. He is the brother I never had. But I have begun to hope, Anne, that there may be a way. For every moment of hope, however, there are two of despair that I shall never see you. If only this cursed idleness would end! But that is a foolish wish. Because here there is only idleness or battle. Boredom or death. With hope, I choose boredom.

  Brett

  * * * * *

  Brett swung his head around to the door at Anne’s words and saw Freddy there. He was tall, elegant, aroused. And Brett wanted him. Buried balls deep in Anne, he wanted Freddy too. He was a greedy, selfish bastard. Then Anne’s words registered. His gaze flew down to see the dark brown leather riding gloves Freddy wore. Every muscle in his body jerked at the thought of Freddy touching him in those gloves. God, Anne wanted the same thing. He’d known she’d want the same thing.

  Freddy looked at him and Brett didn’t need to say a word. Freddy smiled that slow, seductive smile that Brett had seen for the first time yesterday, and a shot of heated arousal careened from his shoulders, straight down his spine and around his arse and his cock jerked inside Anne.

  “Brett!” she cried out, and he realized he was holding her hips so hard she would have bruises tomorrow. He forced his hands to relax, let his head fall back on his shoulders, closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

  “You like the gloves?” Freddy purred, and Brett’s eyes flew open. Freddy had crossed the room and was standing next to them. He took a step closer and suddenly Brett could feel the heat from his body, could smell the sweat and the horse on him, and he nearly groaned with pleasure. He would have if he hadn’t bitten the inside of his cheek.

  “Yes,” Anne purred right back. “Touch me, Freddy.”

  Brett started to pull away, but Anne wrapped her legs around his waist and held on tight. “Oh no,” she told him breathlessly. “You’re not going anywhere.” He felt her inner muscles deliberately clamp down on his cock, and this t
ime the moan escaped. Anne smiled like the vixen she was. “I know how much you like us together, Brett. Would you like to see Freddy touch me now? While you’re inside of me? Would you like to see those gloves against my skin?”

  “Christ,” Brett croaked in a rough voice.

  “I believe that means yes,” Freddy said with amusement. “Brett.” Just his name. That was all it took to drag Brett’s gaze to Freddy. The look Freddy gave him was hot, intense, amused. Freddy looked down and Brett’s eyes followed. He saw Freddy’s gloved hand glide along Anne’s leg, from the top of her stocking up her naked thigh, so close to Brett he could feel the heat radiating from the leather. Freddy’s hand stopped on her lower stomach, just above the dark bush of pubic hair, Anne’s and Brett’s tangled together, that hid their joined bodies.

  Brett was breathing so hard and fast that he felt lightheaded. He watched the muscles of Anne’s stomach quiver under Freddy’s touch and he couldn’t control the rough thrust of his hips.

  “Undo your trousers,” Anne choked out. “I want to see those gloves against your cock, Freddy.”

  Freddy’s rubbing fingers stopped on Anne’s stomach. “Do you?” he said softly. “Brett?”

  Brett couldn’t speak. He could barely think. If he said yes, did that make him Freddy’s lover? Or Anne’s? He was confused, hardly in the best position to reason the situation out. He let instinct guide him. He closed his eyes and nodded.

  When he opened his eyes he saw Freddy slowly drag his hand from Anne’s stomach. Brett knew he was going to release his cock. Right there, practically in front of Brett’s nose. God, he was temptation itself. And he knew it. He must know he was pushing Brett. But Brett had to maintain his control. This was about Anne. Not about Brett. It was what Anne wanted. But God, Brett craved it. Craved the sight of that shiny leather glove wrapped around Freddy’s cock.

  “Is this what you want?” Freddy asked roughly, and though he tried to deny it, Brett couldn’t keep his head from turning. And there it was. Brett groaned. He just couldn’t help it. Freddy’s leather-clad fist was wrapped around his erect cock, which was flushed red with arousal. As Brett and Anne watched he pumped his fist several times up and down its length, until a drop of moisture leaked from the pink tip.

  “Look what you’ve done,” Freddy whispered. “Do you have any idea how erotic it was to walk in and find you two fucking each other? Do you? Anne spread out, taking your cock, Brett, so beautifully. And I knew what you felt. I know how tight she is, how hot, how wet. How she loves it. And you, Brett, you were lost. Lost in her gorgeous little cunt, weren’t you? You didn’t even hear me come in. I thought I was going to come at that instant, just at the sight of the two of you.”

  While he was talking Freddy ran his thumb over his leaking tip and shuddered. Then he rubbed the moisture over the head, making it shiny and more tempting than the sweetest morsel. Brett’s mouth was watering. But the sight of the leather shining and growing dark as the moisture soaked into the brown glove, Christ, it had Brett going mad. He wanted that wet glove rubbing all over him.

  Anne took Freddy’s free hand and brought it back to her stomach. She held it there, both of her hands pressing it into the white, flawless skin of that perfect belly. Then she slid it down into her pubic hair.

  “What do you want, Anne?” Freddy asked, his voice so sweet, so tender. That voice made Brett ache.

  “Touch me, Freddy,” Anne begged, her head thrown back against the cushions. She writhed beneath Brett. “Touch me while Brett fucks me. Please.”

  “Brett?” Freddy asked in that voice. Brett could answer, should answer, because it wasn’t about him. It was about Anne. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He nodded again.

  Suddenly Brett didn’t know where to look. Freddy’s gloved hand was rubbing in Anne’s pubic hair, his thumb sinking down between her lips, his thumb knuckle bending and straightening over and over as he rubbed her clitoris while Anne cried out and thrust onto Brett’s cock. Freddy’s other hand still gripped his cock, still moved along it.

  “Move, Brett,” Freddy said softly. “Fuck her pretty little cunt, Brett.”

  Brett could no more deny Freddy now than he could stop breathing. He began to thrust, restraining his motions, not wanting to upset the delicate balance of the three of them, not wanting to dislodge Freddy’s hand.

  “Harder,” Anne begged. “Oh Brett, please. Harder.” He looked at her and she smiled tremulously. “More.”

  Brett smiled back, and he could feel the anticipation in his smile. “I love that you always want more,” he whispered, repeating his earlier words. Anne laughed breathlessly.

  He raised her hips high, pulled out and slammed into her. Anne shrieked and clutched his wrists tightly, holding on.

  “God yes,” Freddy groaned and Brett looked over to see Freddy’s fist pumping faster and harder on his cock. Brett had an overwhelming need to see that dark brown glove covered in Freddy’s seed. Slick and wet with Freddy’s release.

  “Harder, Freddy,” Brett whispered.

  Freddy groaned and his fist tightened on his cock so that Brett could see the strain in the stretched leather across his knuckles. He imagined the warmth of the leather as it rubbed across his arse, fondled and caressed his cock and balls. He suddenly had a vision of being spanked by both Freddy and Anne, both wearing their fine gloves.

  He began to fuck Anne in earnest while he watched Freddy work his cock. Anne was moaning and thrashing beneath him, her sheath so wet and hot that the air was shockingly cold on his cock each time he pulled out. It was a relief in every way to slam back inside her. He turned to see her lovely face, to see the pleasure there, and saw that she was as mesmerized as he with Freddy’s hand on his cock. She was flushed and panting and so beautiful in her arousal.

  “Do you like what he’s doing?” Brett asked her roughly. He slid out and held his cock there while Anne fought against his hold, fought to bring him back inside her. She tore her gaze from Freddy.

  “Yes,” she cried out. “Yes. As do you. Brett, please!”

  Brett slid inside and went deep, hard. At that moment Freddy’s hand on Anne moved. Suddenly his fingers were spread around Brett’s cock, feeling Brett inside Anne, while his thumb still worked the center of her pleasure. The feel of that leather on his cock at last made Brett cry out loudly.

  “Do you, Brett?” Freddy said breathlessly. “Do you like what I’m doing?”

  “Damn you,” Brett ground out as he swirled his hips and rubbed his cock on those leather-clad fingers.

  “Say it,” Freddy demanded.

  Brett swung his infuriated gaze to Freddy. “Yes, damn it. Yes.” The last word ended in a hiss as Brett pulled out and fucked back into Anne’s heat, his cock dragging down along those fingers. It was too much. He’d never last.

  “Come, Freddy,” Anne pleaded. “Please. Come.”

  Freddy’s fist moved roughly on his cock, pulling the skin taut as he dragged his hand down to the head and then back to the root again. Freddy doubled over and threw his head back and his fist moved faster and Brett held his breath. He and Anne were both frozen, watching Freddy.

  Suddenly Freddy gave a high-pitched cry and his head fell forward and jets of semen shot from his cock to land on Anne’s stomach and then more ran out to cover the fingers of his glove.

  Anne cried out with Freddy and she clenched on Brett’s cock. Brett couldn’t catch his breath. Freddy was gorgeous as he came, just like yesterday. His cheeks were bright spots of red, his eyes were squeezed shut, sweat dampened his forehead, the hair on his nape, his upper lip. Brett could smell him, smell his sex and his sweat and it was as intoxicating as the scotch he had drunk so quickly last night.

  When he was done Freddy was panting, his chest heaving, his eyes heavy-lidded. He held up his gloved hand, shiny with the cream of his release. “Now look what you’ve done,” he said breathlessly. Freddy stared pointedly at his other hand, still buried in their pubic hair, still cradling Anne’s mound, surroun
ding Brett’s cock. “Your turn.” Freddy pulled his hand away and a distressed whimper escaped Anne. The whimper turned to a groan as Freddy ran his hand through the white residue on Anne’s stomach. When his fingers were covered with it, the leather slick with an opaque shine, he thrust his hand back down into the same position.

  Brett shuddered and groaned at the wet feel of the gloved fingers around him, at the thought of Freddy’s semen on his cock. Without being asked, Brett began to move.

  Brett was fucking them both. Fucking into Anne’s wet heat through the slick tunnel of Freddy’s fingers. It was heaven, and it was hell. Because it was better than any sex Brett had ever had. It was better than anything he’d ever dreamed.

  “Freddy, Freddy,” Anne cried, and in his mind Brett echoed that cry, biting his lip to keep it inside.

  “Anne, I need you,” Brett finally cried. “I need you to come, darling, please.” For some reason he couldn’t explain he looked at Freddy. “Freddy.” He didn’t know what he meant. But Freddy did.

  “Yes,” Freddy answered thickly, staring into Brett’s eyes. “Yes, Anne.” He turned from Brett to look at Anne, and Brett’s gaze followed. Anne was wild, wanton, desperate. The look she gave them was incinerating in its heat. Brett and Freddy’s exchange had obviously pleased her. “Come, Anne,” Freddy whispered, and Brett slammed into her just as she arched her back and screamed. Brett stayed deep inside her, feeling every ripple of muscle, every convulsion as she rode out her orgasm.

  “God, Anne,” Freddy said in awe as he watched her. Then Brett felt Freddy’s fingers tighten around him, squeezing him in counterpoint to the clenching and unclenching of Anne’s vagina around him, and Brett threw back his head and roared as he came harder than he’d ever come before. His cock actually hurt as it pulsed over and over, and Brett felt the heat and wetness of Anne’s sheath increase as his semen filled her.