Regency Rogues Omnibus

by Shirl Anders

  Aye, perhaps that was the best way. They were both vulnerable in this. They could only imagine what crass and personally humiliating things they might have to do. They would only have each other to strengthen and to hold each other together at those times. He pretended it would be worse for a woman, however he was not so personally bereft of morals and tastes that he could not be intimately humiliated with self-disgust. His body felt like tensile iron as he heaved a breath trying to loosen some of the tension, while his gaze encompassed Kit’s attractive and flushed face and her breasts, which were all but completely bare.

  “I was going to try to hide,” he began, his voice like gravel. “That I want you.”

  Brynmore watched Kit’s eyes widen and her pouted lips part. He knew that he’d surprised her with his complete honesty. Even though she’d practically begged him for it. He also knew that they had known each other such a short time, they were truly strangers. So she must wonder how he could want her. Even as he rationalized that she would come to the conclusion that he was just a male and the popular belief was that men were not discerning.

  That could not be further from the truth where he was concerned, but he was not going to reveal every nook and cranny of his soul. Kit’s hand rose toward his chest, hesitantly, then her fingers curled inward at the last moment so that her knuckles rested on his left breast plate. However, it was the emotion in her eyes that spoke volumes, with liquid, dark, entrapping qualities.

  “Lass, we are together in this. Partners,” he murmured, raising his hand to clasp over her fist.

  She nodded her head in agreement and his gaze caught the slight drooping of material the motion caused, revealing one nipple tip, rucked tightly with ruddy-pink emotion. “No kissing then. You think that is the best way to do this?” she asked.

  “Hell,” he expelled, overturned at the reminder of his attempts at masking his feelings with cruelness, while he tugged, and then drew Kit’s soft feminine body into his arms. His lips descended to her mouth.

  Kit stopped him for a brief second, gasping, “I think I want you too.” Then their lips touched.

  Brynmore thought that he might have meant to be gentle, more caressing and embracing. However, the moment he felt the heated gossamer of Kit’s lips molding and moving beneath his mouth, it was as though a volatile eruption burst into his senses. He swore that a flash of light actually burst in his brain, as he growled a groan, moving his mouth ardently against Kit’s instant and returning fervor. The near nudeness of her body slid against his chest as one of his hands sunk into her hair, while the other cupped her buttocks. Kit’s arms braced around his shoulders with her fingers burrowing into his hair as their lips turned against each other, plucking and nipping, sliding and sculpting, until the tip of Kit’s tongue offered itself for his taking. The openly torrid equality of that gesture immediately spurred his excitement about what the gesture promised. She was not coy or reluctant, but matched him desire for desire, with her murmurs increasing as their tongues played carnal jigs.

  Kit rolled her firm breasts over his hairy chest with her nipple points erect and prodding, while his fingers spread out over her ass, holding her to the hip motions he used, grinding his thick and woody prick over her muff. One of his fingers holding her supple ass fell into the crease following the depression, until his fingertip found, by surprise the lowest portion of her cleft. The surprise was the wetness. It soaked his fingertip and the gauzy material of her nightgown around it, while she crooned aroused sounds over his tongue, basting it with her tongue.

  Suddenly, she slipped her tongue from his mouth, with their noses touching lightly and her irises like smoky dark blue glass as she looked up at him. Her breath panted heat against his damp lips. “What do we do?” she asked.

  Brynmore saw that she was willing and excited to do what before had been a challenge. His chest expanded against her nipple tips with the grateful knowledge that he’d averted disaster and chosen the right course. They were equally matched and attracted and they both wanted to build on that.

  “Let’s try you taking control for a while, sugar pet. I’d guess that would be a faddy common theme. Lass’ servicing men.”

  Chapter Six

  Kit barely heard anything past the endearment, “sugar pet,” that Brynmore used and the throng of desire pumping through her body. She did manage to hear the rest. Even though, in just this first stage of sexual play, her senses were soaring higher that they’d ever been engaged before.

  She made a lilting exclamation of rebuttal as she grasped Brynmore’s brawny shoulders, tugging and turning him where she shoved, pushing him onto his back. “You think so, do you?” she asked, with her voice dripping with teasing disbelief.

  She could tell by the crinkling in the corner of his mint-colored irises that he was a bit surprised at her strength. He’d not stopped her moving him, but he’d not helped either. “Och, I do, lass, I do. Tis certain to be all about a man’s pleasure.”

  Kit’s mouth dove for Brynmore’s nipple as she leaned over him from his side. She nipped the hard peak once, holding him down by her palms spread out over his rigid belly, when he jerked. “But, we should practice both,” she emphasized with a quip, as she rose halfway over him.

  She felt his hand sneaking under the fluffy folds of her chiffon nightgown, until the heat of his palm caressed her bare hip. Immediately, she felt like undulating her bottom and she was amazed at the sensuality that she possessed.

  “Aye, lass, I’m all for practicing.” He chuckled, with a suggestive and blatant male glitter in his eyes.

  Kit immediately turned that twinkle into crimping eyelids as she moved her hand to lightly scrape her fingernails over the hardy length of his male shaft beneath the fabric of his britches. She liked the way his hairy belly muscles rippled as his irises darkened. She had to admit that she was thrilled. This was no chore, she thought.

  Brynmore’s difficult admission that he wanted her, eased many degrees of her tensions. He could have handled this so many different ways. That he chose honesty demanded her honesty in return. She could see now by her feelings it would strengthen them. Her honesty was that she wanted him also. She tried not to inspect it too closely given her earlier commitment to work out later all the consequences and feeling about this mission. Somehow her desires so quickly aroused by Brynmore, having known him for such a short time, seemed more like fate. Or perhaps, she thought, it was simply pure physical attraction, because she was that. There was just something about Brynmore that made her whole inner self purr. Or yowl!

  She giggled inwardly, wanting to pounce on him, like a superb male treat. To smell and to lick, to taste, and to touch. Lord, she’d never felt quite so freely impassioned before and now she even had permission. No, it was like an order, made between them. She was in charge for the moment!

  His boots first, then. That she was adamant about. So instead of continuing the caressing journey of her fingertips along the arresting firmness and length of his male organ, she scooted down the bed, climbing off, to grasp one of his booted feet. Brynmore snorted a laugh at her, raising his head to give her a heated wink as she raised his heavy boot straight and began tugging. The man was a Scottish rogue devil, with his teasing that left her tingling from her nipples to her toes.

  “Sugar pet, ye’ll never get them off that way.” Kit arched a fine eyebrow at him, hunched over his boot tugging with the thick leather not moving an inch. His gaze seemed all for her bare bobbing breasts. Another sizzle twirled through her at the obvious appreciation she saw in his gaze. “Lass, ye’ll have to turn around, then straddle it and tug.” He smirked suggestively at her.

  Kit could hardly believe that she was practically naked, tugging on a man’s boot, while he ogled her with lust in his gaze. And she liked it! Still, some feminine devil inside her wanted to wrest part of the upper hand back and she was nearly naked in any case. So, she let go of Brynmore’s boot and stood, letting her nightgown fall off her arms, sliding down her body, until it poole
d at her bare feet. Abruptly, it struck her just exactly what she’d done and the urge to cover her nakedness shouted through her.

  “Fash, lass, I’ve never seen a thing more beautiful.” Brynmore’s husky voice, embedded with bass roughness, collided with her nearly desperate urge to cover herself and it allowed her to keep her hands at her side though her body quivered. Beautiful? Nick had always derided her charms in subtle and not so subtle remarks that pinpricked her confidence. Well! If Laird Brynmore Duneagan thought she was beautiful, then she was! Confidence filled her breast and she flipped her short hair back with a saucy head toss.

  “Ye’ll be the death of me, woman,” Brynmore chuckled. Kit tried one of his smirks back on him, and then she added a wink too. He grabbed his belly as if she’d speared him, while he groaned dramatically. “Och, lass, just take me brawny prick once before I die.”

  That made Kit laugh once outright and she suddenly realized the wonder of humor and sexual attraction combined. She tilted her head and rolled her bare hips at Brynmore. Then, she turned and straddled his booted foot lifting it up between her thighs. The picture that she must present to Brynmore and the position that she was bent into, pelted surprising aroused shivers over her nude buttocks. Then he lifted his booted foot, pressing higher between her thighs and into her slit. A moan escaped before she could catch it, at the same instant a centralized throb pierced her sex. The urge to rub her heated slit on Brynmore’s boot top quivered over her inner thighs.

  Kit expected Brynmore to plant his other boot on her bottom to push and aid her tugging his first boot free, but it was his hands that clasped her buttocks. Warm strong hands that sent quivers rippling through the cheeks with instant heat and intimacy. She could not help squirming. Riding her bottom upward against Brynmore’s broad hands, and then humping her slit over his boot top. It blinked in her mind that she should be embarrassed.

  “That’s it, sugar pet, rub your hot muff on the leather. You like that don’t you, sweet. Christ, you’re hot.”

  Brynmore’s hands pushed and pulled her buttocks, riding her slit over his boot as if she were mounted on a moving stallion. All thought of embarrassment vaporized as pleasure began its tightening and twisting rise in her sex. Then, Brynmore dug his fingers into the hills of her bottom and pulled outward, lifting her inner thighs open, splitting her slit so the buff leather suddenly rubbed over her clitoris.

  “Bry,” she gasped. She was unable to get to the end of Brynmore’s name through her clenching moan as her hands clasped the toe of his boot, like she was grasping a saddle horn.

  Bloody hell! Kit was one hot, passionate woman and he did not even have his boots off yet, Brynmore thought, when he could think! The creamy globes of Kit’s ass were sculpted as she bent over his boot, riding it astraddle, rising on her toes with the small of her back curling and her bare buttocks lifting upward to him.

  The view was hot-blooded and exotic. He loved the spontaneity and complete creativity of it. Finding anything more than a rowdy suck and fuck with a lass was rare. Besides, being completely in lust and filled with desire for Kit, he also felt the thrill of something he’d always itched for, but never discovered until now. It was the rear view of Kit’s cunty-muff that had him entrapped. He could see the bottom lips of her cleft, dark tea-rose colored, seeping with her distinct arousal. He suddenly fancied the thought that he could make her come. Now! In this position and the fact that she was that sensitive and capable of being orgasmic raced more excitement through him. Bloody hell, he’d asked for wild. Then the desire to see if he could coerce Kit’s climax urged him forward to smudge his finger into the opening of her cove.

  “Ah, Bry!” she cried, moaning the sure woman’s song of need to him as she wriggled against his finger with her ardor raining and coating the surface.

  “Ye like that, sweet,” he uttered, through his own raised puffing, as he kept the motion of her body rocking, with her undulating help, while his other hand played carnal finger tag with her creamy oven-baked tunnel.

  Suddenly, she pulled his boot off and stumbled forward. She turned as she lifted his long boot from between her thighs, while she looked at him with desire blazing in her irises. He’d never really seen a woman stand before him naked and panting with the full flush of arousal. The lust inside him that he controlled, all but splintered his restraints.

  “Now the other one,” she said, huffing.

  “Bloody hell, forget the boot!” he exclaimed, leaping from the bed. He reached Kit swiftly, tossing the boot aside. Then he dipped, grasping her and lifting her up into his arms, quickly carrying her back to the bed. “I’ve other ideas!”

  “Bry!” she gasped, clutching his neck, while her bare breasts warmed his chest.

  Brynmore laid Kit down on the bed beneath him. “I want you to come for me, sugar pet. Again and again.”

  Kit’s nails scored down his chest as he hunkered down over her legs. Then, he scooped her legs up under her knees lifting them toward her chest. He was not gentlemanly or sophisticated, but earthy and urgent. The demand inside him was that he taste mink-cunty now! And it was a mink, soft and velvet, spongy and wet. With Kit’s knees draped over his forearms he could see the lips of her cleft still pressed together with swollen promise, protruding slightly. Ripe mink-cunty was exposed to him as his gaze never left it, while his mouth descended.

  “Bry!” Kit squealed, as his tongue lapped saliva over the pressed together lips of her muff. Her fingernails scraped his shoulders. “Oh mm, Bry. Oh yes! Yes!”

  Her naked ass wiggled upward grinding her hot muff onto his tongue as the scent of her exuding arousal reached his nostrils like a high-pitched tang. That feminine ambrosia went straight to the head of his pounding prick. The material enclosing his woody-prick became irritating. He lapped the puffy lips of Kit’s fevered mink as he reached his free hand to the ties on his britches, fumbling, with hot feminine muff steaming in his mouth and Kit’s moans of eager pleasure prancing from her panting lips. Then finally, his stiff woody was free, blood hammering into his balls as it stretched fully, veins engorged, ridges pulsing. He let it jut with his britches down around his knees as he brought his hand to the back of Kit’s thigh, pushing and raising her ass higher to expose her torrid muff more, as he licked it, then looked at it, then licked it again and again. He knew that he teased Kit’s senses by not burrowing inward as her moans drew higher-pitched with begging qualities.

  Kit was enraptured with her mind skipping in and out of someplace that nearly felt like another world. A world she’d never visited before. She had tried to act experienced and worldly before, but the truth was no man had ever laid his mouth to her sex. She’d suckled a man’s shaft before, beneath the type of impervious demand that it was expected of all women. She’d secretly enjoyed most of that, although the continued disparaging comments on her talent had hurt.

  Never in her wildest imagination had she thought that men put their mouths to women’s slits, kissing and licking them. Lord! It was bliss! And at the same time, Brynmore licked over her sex lips like they were the best candy-treat he’d ever tasted, he would stop for seconds, lift his head slightly and praise her, and then praise her sex in his husky bass voice. The words were like the best aphrodisiac she’d ever felt. “Hot. Pretty! Gorgeous. Wet! Beautiful.” All said in a malt-whiskey slow Scottish burr, until the sounds of her pleasure became clearer and she was braver at giving voice to them.

  It was as if Brynmore loved her sex-slit and he praised it over and over, while her body undulated and ground against his mouth for more. Her body knew there was more. Her sex knew and her clitoris cried for it as the rapture tightened and began pounding in her center. She’d been so close to climax before when she’d ridden Brynmore’s boot. Then she’d gotten a little frightened at showing her vulnerability alone. Her experience was a man on top of her clutching and the climaxes coming close together, but not out in the open as he watched.

  So she’d panicked a little and pulled away from Brynmore to regrou
p and gain courage. But then Brynmore toppled her onto the bed and did the most amazing thing. There was no regrouping from this... His hot mouth suckling and his tongue lapping. It was the most unbelievably erotic feeling she’d ever encountered. To have a man, that she was so attracted to, touch her so intimately was beyond pleasure! Then suddenly, his tongue circled the entrance to her vagina and her thighs quaked uncontrollably.

  “Lord! Lord!” Kit gasped, as a spike of sharp pleasure clinched deep inside her sex, while her fingers tangled frantically in the hair on the top of Brynmore’s head. “Oh, my lord,” she panted with her back arching.

  Then Brynmore’s tongue slid into her vagina. “Ah!” she cried out, feeling a whorl of pleasure so different from any she’d felt before. Her clitoris throbbed as if it might burst, but there was a different, more powerful pang of feeling coming from the in and out thrust of Brynmore’s tongue. “B... B... B!” Kit could not say his name.

  She could not breathe as he built speed, mating his tongue inside her, pulling it out, plunging it deep again. She squirmed her legs over his forearm trying to free them with the intense hunger to spread them wide. But he did not let her — he kept them tight as his tongue mated her so vigorously that her buttocks rocked. The deep, strange spiking of pleasure built in her core and suddenly it ruptured, bursting into her sheath. Explosive thrills vibrated through her sheath to the depths of her womb carrying her to the pinnacle of unconsciousness.

  “Ah!” she screamed. The rapture twisted through her as she felt the final release. The liquid welling through the tremors of the repeating quakes, wracking through her body. Deep into the ecstasy, her body arched into tense convulsions. She could feel the liquid coating her buttocks. She gasped a breath as if she’d been drowning for long minutes and had finally reached the surface and air. A moment to breathe and still her climax rippled through her with Brynmore’s tongue edging it on.