by Dee Brice
Now. Now he’ll touch my breasts. Arching her back as if presenting her breasts for him to feast on, she moaned in disappointment. He only took her left hand to wash her from armpit to fingers, his eyes seeming focused on the cloth and not her flesh.
“You have the most elegant hands,” he murmured, taking both of hers, then urging her to stand while he balanced her.
She needed a mani-pedi in the worst way, but decided not to tell him. He probably wouldn’t understand the term anyway, even if she could say the words. Because what he was doing to her hands was wreaking delicious havoc on her senses. Who knew that his rough fingertips across her palm could make her crave his hands on her breasts? Or that gliding his fingers between hers would cause her labia to pulse, yearning for his touch between them? Or that his licking and sucking her fingers might make her beg him to lick and suck her clit? Or that she would curl around him when he lifted her from the tub without protesting how wet she was getting him. That served him right! Payback for making her wet and hot and ready.
But the wretch seemed in no hurry as he laid her on the bed, then followed her down. No matter how she twisted or turned or grasped at him, he slid free, raking her body with his own. Making her gasp with delight at the friction and bemoan its loss when he glided away. The lightest brush of his lips against hers wrested needy gasps from her and a pleased chuckle from him.
“Beast!”
He met her eyes, his so black she thought they would swallow her whole and she wouldn’t even care.
“I oft wonder what you would give in exchange for pleasure,” he murmured, his kisses tasting like honey and mead, filling her with warmth and a desire that went far beyond lust.
As if he’d heard an unvoiced answer, his eyes heated and he renewed his tender assault upon her senses. A gentle caress down her torso to her mons had her spreading her legs and arching into his hand. Her stomach muscles quivered. Her breath caught in her throat. Tears burned her eyes, making her blink them back as he eased his shaft into her in minuscule increments until—at last!—he filled her. His eyes remained on hers as if he could see deep into her soul and knew just what she would willingly give him, no matter the cost to herself.
She blinked again, willing away all thoughts of what might lie ahead. Losing herself in his eyes, in the sparks of desire and need his gentle thrusts built into an inferno until she begged him.
“Harder, Walker. Faster. Oh God, yes!”
What would she give him for this bliss? Anything. Even have sex with Adrian if Walker wanted her to.
* * * * *
A sennight Later
By the time Adrian arrived at Castle Mornay, Diane had resigned herself to mating him. It seemed the only fair way to pick one over the other, create a level playing field, so to speak. After all, the king himself allowed her to make her choice, although she doubted Henry envisioned her rutting with both Adrian and Walker.
Sure, Diane. Rationalize screwing two guys so you don’t have to admit being a slut. A horny one at that. Pushing self-recriminations to the back of her mind, she stood at Walker’s side to welcome their guest while Adrian’s men-at-arms made camp half a league away.
To her surprise, Adrian bowed over her hand without kissing it and directed his ready smile only at Walker. She sniffed at being left out of their easy camaraderie, but demanded she show only indifference at the slight. Yet she couldn’t help gnawing on the idea that they’d changed their minds about her having sex with Adrian, but had not told her. She had left him in the lurch, in a way. Why else would the earl come here except to get even? And what better payback was there than keeping her in the dark?
Typical males! Then they acted as if their women should have known all along what they were thinking. What am I, a mind reader?
One not nearly as good at anticipating the men’s needs as Walker’s servants. No sooner had they settled in his spacious study than footmen appeared with trays laden with food and drink. It seemed to her they could have fed themselves and Adrian’s fifty men for a week. Feeling like a fifth wheel, Diane paced to the doors, intending to retreat to her rooms. Walker’s voice stopped her.
“Adrian thought you might like to witness how an army trains.”
“Oh?” Images of blood and gore crowded her mind as she turned to face them. Directing her gaze to Walker’s face, she said, “You do remember that I’m squeamish, Your Grace?”
“I think you will enjoy this particular exercise,” Adrian said. He sounded as indifferent as he had when greeting her earlier.
“Don’t ask what he’s planned,” Walker told her, looking sly. “‘Twould spoil the surprise.”
“Very well. I shall retire and let you plan in peace.” With a curt nod she left them to themselves. Finding the vast hallway empty of servants tempted her to press her ear to the door. Fear of being caught blatantly eavesdropping prompted her to continue to her rooms. She’d find paper and pen, then record her impressions of this new wrinkle in her men’s attitudes.
Not that she’d expected either one or both of them to fall on her like sex-starved beasts the moment Adrian arrived, but she’d…anticipated—yes, anticipation suited what she’d felt when Walker told her Adrian would soon arrive—having him in her bed soon. Which now seemed an unlikely happening. At least not in the foreseeable future.
“Care to hazard—” Adrian began as soon as Diane closed the door behind her. Walker’s raised hand cut him short. Puzzled, he watched his friend cross to the door, place his ear against it before crouching to peer through the keyhole. His frown deepened when Walker opened the door, looked in both directions, then closed it again. “What?”
“If I’ve learned nothing else about Diane, I’ve discovered her unending curiosity.”
Adrian laughed. “I cannot imagine her spying through keyholes.”
“While I can. Not that I’ve caught her doing so. Just that I wouldn’t put it past her.”
Shaking off impending gloom, Adrian said, “What do you suggest I do? Pretend I do not see her?” He glanced at his tented breeches. “Pretend I no longer want her? In short, ignore her?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Walker grinned. “Women dislike being ignored. I propose we see how far Diane will go to gain your attention.”
Adrian grunted. “While you continue to have all mating rights.” Quirking one brow, he added, “I can tell you have bedded her. She has that sated look.”
Ignoring the jibe, Walker said, “We shall involve ourselves in manly pursuits that leave me too tired for anything else.”
“Won’t I be equally tired?” Adrian drawled, suspecting some trick Walker was planning to spring upon his partner in seduction.
Cocking one brow, Walker scanned him from head to pointed-toe boots. “Since you are a decade younger than I, you shouldn’t have a problem with endurance. Once Diane sees you as a virile leader of men rather than a fop,” he glanced once again at Adrian’s boots, “the field should be yours to plow.”
Walker’s grin only increased Adrian’s unease with the whole situation. Deviousness did not sit well with him and he disliked feeling uncertain.
“Do what you must,” Walker told him. “The goal in all of this is to make Diane realize what she wants—namely, both of us.”
“Do we know? Have we asked her?”
“Not yet. Nor will we ask. The point is for her to know and go after her heart’s desire.”
“Even if it isn’t us?”
A sigh greeted Adrian’s question. “We’ve been rejected before,” Walker said at last. “We may be rejected again.”
“You don’t believe that. Not really. You think Diane will embrace us—warts and all.”
“Warts and all?” A sly smile tugged the corners of Walker’s lips. “Yes, acceptance is one lesson she must learn. ‘Tis another small step toward her keeping us both.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Adrian jutted his chin, daring Walker to deliver the knockout punch.
“You know the rules as well
as I,” Walker told him. “She either accepts us both or we shall all remain here, at Castle Mornay, until she does.”
* * * * *
Having decided to bed Adrian at the first possible moment, Diane dressed with that goal in mind. Despite her maid’s protests, she borrowed a set of Walker’s trunk hose to protect her bottom and tender parts should they ride to Adrian’s encampment. In lieu of corset and farthingale, she selected a lightweight basquine that plumped the tops of her breasts over her bodice’s low-cut neckline. She then hid everything exposed under an easily removed jerkin. She also demanded that her shorter maid loan her a skirt so she could avoid a bum roll without having her hems drag in the dirt should they walk. Her sheerest hose covered her feet and calves, secured just below her knees with a pair of embroidered garters. Not her best garters, but almost. Unwilling to suffer more outrage from her maid, Diane let her bundle her waist-length hair into a silk thread net, but refused to have adornments added to the snood-like bag.
She wouldn’t risk losing a precious gem should her mating with Adrian turn frantic. Which she hoped it would—if only to help her beyond reluctance or embarrassment at seducing him.
Descending the wide, stone steps, she encountered her groom holding the reins of a gray palfrey much like the one she had ridden in her previous life. It irritated her no end that neither Walker nor Adrian was anywhere in sight.
She growled at the lad, something she hadn’t done in ages, having vowed to be less critical when things weren’t exactly the way she thought they should be. But she couldn’t help feeling piqued when her men weren’t standing at the foot of the steps, their expressions that of longing and lust. They should jostle each other in their haste to reach her first, then…
Vain and selfish too. No matter how she or that other female in her mind might wish it, the world did not revolve around them. She had resigned herself to giving Walker what he wanted. Given her state of arousal when she pictured Adrian above her, in her, she was ripe for achieving that goal. Now all she had to do was get the earl alone.
Which, over the course of the following week became impossible to achieve. Her men were always together. Hunting, fencing, jousting—whatever the activity together like unjoined Siamese twins. She suspected they even bathed together!
The idea that they found pleasure from each other’s company upset her—why, she hadn’t a clue. Unless…well, of course. As much as she wanted to deny it, she was jealous. Plain and simple. They were giving and getting from each other what she wanted to give and get from them. Pleasure, plain and simple. Not together, although…
Why not together? Before she lost her courage, she made her way to Walker’s office. Prepared to wait until his steward left after their daily meeting, she reached the doors just as the footman was closing them. Without hesitation, she swept in, clearing her throat to gain Walker’s attention.
She almost wished she’d waited to make her presence known. Sitting in a ray of sunlight, his dark hair reflecting hints of red, her lover resembled a dark angel intent on his duties. When he lifted his head, his irritated expression forced her back a step.
“Your pardon, Your Grace,” she began, wanting to retreat, but now ensnared by the warmth in his smile and the heat in his eyes.
When Adrian popped into view she fought to take another step back, but couldn’t move. “I’ll return when it’s more convenient.” She bobbed a brief curtsy.
“Nonsense,” Adrian said, sketching a half-bow at the midpoint between Diane and Walker. “Shall we meet at my camp?”
His gaze still fastened on her, Walker grunted, dismissing Adrian with a brief nod.
“Don’t go,” Diane said before she thought. Could a pretend duchess countermand a duke? A mistress her master? Except she refused to call Walker her master. “It…what I have to say concerns you both.” Oh, dear, did that sound like an invitation? But wasn’t that why she was here? To invite them?
Instead of waving her closer, Walker came to her side. Taking her hand, he guided her to a chair and saw her seated before retreating to his desk. There he leaned against the edge, his shaft stirring in his loose-fitting breeches. Her mouth went dry, but she couldn’t stop staring at Walker’s crotch.
“Perhaps I should leave,” Adrian said, drawing her attention to him. Since he was standing and she’d kept her gaze at the same level, his cock’s twitching under his breeches rendered her incapable of speech.
Damnation! What next? Take off her clothes here and now? Where the servants might discover them rutting? Embarrassment warred with lust as she willed herself to look into Walker’s amused eyes.
“I…I thought we might…go fishing,” she finally got out. “T-tomorrow.”
“Ah,” Walker said, that single word conveying so many meanings she couldn’t untangle them. He seemed to understand everything she hadn’t said. Her face heated, but she held his gaze rather than look at Adrian to see if he understood what her suggestion included.
“If, of course, you have time for such frivolity. If not—”
“We shall make time,” Walker told her. “Will you arrange for food or shall I?”
“I believe I can manage that, Your Grace.” Praying her trembling legs would support her, she stood. She’d done it. Now all she needed to complete her self-imposed mission was the courage to follow through.
* * * * *
The following day
The problem with picnics in this time and place was the lack of condiments—at least those Diane preferred. Like ketchup and Dijon mustard and mayonnaise. And how much longer would it take for somebody to create steak sauce?
Even the realization that she was making lists of what this picnic lacked failed to distract her from lustful feelings. She exhaled a soft sigh. Sitting between her men unsettled her. She wished she’d worn so many bum rolls and farthingales she couldn’t feel their thighs rubbing hers. Even her skirts couldn’t shield her from feeling every bump of the wagon over the uneven road. With only a few layers of fabric between her bum and the wagon seat, it felt like the bouncing rubbed her labia against the plank bench and aroused her to near frenzy. Were they not accompanied by six of Adrian’s mounted troops, she might have begged to stop, to engage in a little foreplay and ease her mounting frustration.
When the wagon slowed, Adrian’s men veered away. Diane found she could breathe a little easier. Although why she thought the troops would remain with them disturbed her. What would she do if they had? Take eight men? The idea left her breathless and even more in need of release. She couldn’t imagine making love to more than two at a time, but who said she had to have all eight at once?
Damnation, she was a slut!
“Diane.”
Walker’s voice startled her to awareness of her surroundings. The duke’s smile enticed her into his outstretched arms. As he let her slide down his body, lust renewed its hold on her senses—not that it had gone very far away. Her feet touched ground, yet neither she nor Walker moved away. They stood staring into each other’s eyes until, at last, Walker leaned down.
“I am glad you suggested this outing,” he whispered as if they stood surrounded by a crowd of servants.
She wanted to ask if he realized what she intended to happen, but couldn’t get it out. What if the men declined to take advantage of the secluded setting? Declined to take advantage of her? Could she take matters into her own hands—both figuratively and literally? Given what her body craved, she caressed Walker’s cheek, then let her fingertips linger on his lips.
“Thank you for indulging me,” she murmured.
His smile wide, he turned her around. Only then did she notice the enormous tent that took up most of the space within the tree-lined clearing. Adrian stood at the open tent flap, his smile matching Walker’s. Butterflies swirled in her belly, fanning heat and moisture into her pussy. Her knees buckled, leaving Walker her sole support.
Chuckling, he swept her into his arms.
“Dare I hope,” Adrian said, closing the tent
flap behind Walker and Diane, “this is what it seems?”
Walker deposited her on a platform covered with plush velvet and silk pillows and soft furs of ermine and fox. Leaning over her, he said, “Is it, Diane?”
Unable to speak, she nodded. Walker’s dark eyes flared with heat as he closed the distance between their faces, then claimed her lips with a kiss that left her breathless and yearning. The faint aroma of sandalwood alerted her to Adrian’s joining them on the makeshift bed. His naked flesh along her side announced he’d shed his clothes.
Walker eased away. Adrian tilted her face to his and kissed her so hard her lips were crushed against her teeth. She moaned a protest. He gentled the kiss until she sighed, parting her lips then darting her tongue into his mouth. He tasted like nothing she’d ever tasted before. Like cinnamon and sugar and…
Heat suffused the side Walker had left. Diane mewed her pleasure that he had returned, then reached for their penises. The men caught her hands, holding her arms away from her body while they unlaced her sleeves then discarded them.
To her delight they nibbled her ears, laved her neck, coaxed her breasts from the prison of her basquine. Anticipating their touch, her nipples hardened into aching tips. To her growing frustration, her men’s attention seemed focused on removing her clothing at the pace of distracted snails.
“Mmm,” she protested, wrenching her hands free to shove at their chests. If she could get them to move away for a minute, she’d remove her own clothes.
“Who made that sound?” Adrian demanded, his lips against her neck. The vibration tickled, forcing her to smother her laugh.
“I thought ‘twas you,” Walker mumbled, nibbling her earlobe before swirling his tongue over the whorls. She shivered with renewed lust, praying that they would now hasten to slake their mutual needs. They just continued what they’d been doing until she wanted to box their ears.
Huffing, she sat up, then struggled to her feet. As she reached to unfasten her skirt ties, the men tripped her. She landed on her stomach, gasping for breath and fighting to free her trapped arms.