by Ranae Rose
Brom entered without preamble, shutting the door softly. “I must speak with you.”
John took in the determined set of Brom’s jaw, along with the dark gleam in the man’s eyes, and repressed the urge to sigh. It was plain that something was the matter, but just being alone in the same room with Brom had John’s mind racing, spiraling into fantasies he didn’t dare act out. It had been days… “What is it?”
Brom sank onto the edge of the mattress, seating himself a couple scant inches from John. “It’s Katrina.”
John’s heart skipped a beat. “Is she unwell?” For the most part, she’d appeared radiant that day, but he’d noticed faint purple circles beneath her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well lately. Of course, she and Brom had just been married, and with what John knew of Brom’s sexual appetite… He stamped down on that thread of thought, trying desperately not to picture their naked bodies entwined and heaving in some midnight act of newlywed passion.
“No,” Brom said, “it’s not that.” A moment of silence passed, and Brom exhaled heavily, as if trying to relieve himself of some internal burden. “We haven’t consummated our marriage yet.”
“What?” John’s neck twinged as it snapped around, and he felt his eyes go wide. There was nothing he could do to stop them as he gaped at Brom. “Whyever not?”
“We meant to on our wedding night, of course, but as I helped her out of her gown it was plain something was troubling her. I asked her what it was, and she broke down in tears.”
John listened, rapt, trying to imagine how the prospect of consummating her marriage to her beloved Brom could possibly cause her such distress.
“She said she had to confess something to me, and confess she did.”
Apprehension crept over John. Could it be possible that Katrina wasn’t a virgin? It was difficult to imagine her engaging in wanton behavior, but perhaps if it hadn’t been a matter of choice… Blood roared in his ears, as it had at the party, nearly drowning out Brom’s next revelation.
“She said she’s in love with you, John, and didn’t think it right to hide it from me.”
“What?” He slowly unclenched his fists as visions of Katrina being abused faded from his mind, replaced by numb shock.
“She said she felt she’d misled me by making it sound as if she’d kissed you for your sake. Apparently she did it for herself too, and now she feels terribly guilty about it.”
“Guilty…” John tried the word out – it felt strange on the tip of his tongue. He’d been no stranger to guilt, as of late, but to think that the same emotion had been terrorizing Katrina to such an extent… “Damn it, I should have stopped her from kissing me. I’m a selfish bastard.”
Several moments of silence passed, and though Brom said nothing, he laid a hand on John’s shoulder. The warm weight of it was a comfort that John didn’t deserve, but he couldn’t bring himself to shrug Brom’s touch away. “What can I do?”
“Come to our bedroom with me,” Brom replied without hesitation.
“What?” John couldn’t help but repeat himself. Shock suffused him, rendering him incapable of eloquence.
“A confession deserves a confession,” Brom said. “I’ve thought about it these past two days, and I can come up with no other solution. It wouldn’t be right to allow her to suffer when she doesn’t know the half of it; when she’s the last of us who should feel guilty.”
John swallowed – Brom’s news had left him feeling as if there were some sort of obstruction in his throat. “What about the second night? Did she cry then, too?” It was painful to imagine, but he had to know.
Brom shook his head. “Nearly. She threw herself at me, and I could tell that she was holding back tears. She was desperate to prove her love to me, and I wanted her so badly…but I couldn’t bear to do it.” He looked John straight in the eye, his voice becoming firm. “I will not have her come to our marriage bed for the first time out of guilt.”
John nodded, still mostly numb from the shock of it all. He’d begun to feel a little, though, and fear was rapidly invading his consciousness. What would Katrina think – God, what would she say when she found out? She was sweeter than sugar, and loved them both…but what Brom intended to confess was more of a blow than any bride could be reasonably expected to handle. Might she refuse to consummate the marriage and leave Brom? If that happened…it could be a matter of life and death for John and Brom both if anyone else found out why. Clearly Brom didn’t think she’d take that course of action, but worry weighed down John’s heart as he glanced at the door, imagining entering the room across the hall and baring his and Brom’s secret to Katrina.
“I can’t pass another night in that fashion,” Brom said, tightening his grip on John’s shoulder. “Not for her sake or my own – last night I laid with her, her soft body curled against mine, until she was sound asleep. Then I came in here and thought of her and you and…” He waved a hand over his crotch, shrugging.
John nodded. “I see. It must be done, then.” He stood and straightened his waistcoat, as if it mattered at all what he’d look like when he confessed to Katrina, probably breaking her heart.
Together, he and Brom crossed the hall.
Katrina sat perched on the edge of the bed in her and Brom’s room, her cornsilk hair streaming loose around her shoulders. Her cap lay beside her on the bed, and she held a brush in one hand. Her eyes were wide – she appeared startled to see both Brom and John walk into the room. And why shouldn’t she be? John fought the urge to leave, feeling as if he’d intruded on her privacy. At least she was still dressed.
“Katrina, there is something I must tell you,” Brom said, striding across the room and sinking onto the bed. He cast a quick but meaningful look in John’s direction. Reluctantly, John went to stand beside him.
Katrina lowered her brush into her lap, her gaze shifting between Brom and John’s faces. “What is it?”
“There’s no need for you to feel guilty,” Brom said, his voice as soft as John had ever heard it.
Katrina frowned, then opened her mouth, as if to protest.
“No,” Brom said. “Hear what I have to say.” He paused, waiting until she responded with a slight nod. “You needn’t feel guilty for loving John, for John and I have been in love for a long time.”
Confusion flickered visibly across her face, and John stood frozen, waiting for the truth to dawn on her. When Brom’s hand closed around his wrist, it didn’t take much effort for Brom to pull him down onto the edge of the bed. Then before he knew what was happening, Brom’s lips were on his, hot, soft and firm all at once. All the tension seemed to drain out of him, and for a moment, he felt as if he were melting. His damaged face twinged and ached beneath the pressure of Brom’s mouth, but it didn’t matter. As a riptide of longing rushed through him, he fought to restrain it, struggling with the urge to shove his tongue into Brom’s mouth, demanding more. He barely heard Katrina’s soft “oh” of comprehension. When Brom finally pulled away, it was both a blessing and a curse.
Brom met Katrina’s eyes, and John struggled to do the same. Her cheeks were already turning pink, and her rosy lips were parted in surprise. “Now you know the truth of it,” Brom said. “You needn’t ever feel badly over loving John again, for I’m far guiltier than you. John and I – we’ve known each other intimately, these past eight months, ever since he first arrived in Sleepy Hollow.”
To her credit, Katrina hadn’t fainted, screamed, wept or done any of the things John had imagined a bride confronted with such news would do. Instead she simply sat, staring at the both of them, her cheeks pinkened by a fantastic blush.
“We haven’t touched one another since the wedding,” John said, his gut roiling with anxiety. “I swear it. Katrina, we never meant to harm you.”
“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her cheeks were ablaze, but she met John’s eyes. “I know because I never meant to harm Brom, either, when I kissed you. It’s only that…I love you, John. I understand
what it is to love two people, and to know it’s wrong, and yet, to be unable to stop.” She laid a hand over his, and her other over one of Brom’s. Her hairbrush tumbled to the floor, forgotten.
To John’s shame, his body relaxed beneath her touch. Well, most of it – his cock had stiffened as Brom had kissed him, and her touch, innocent as it was, certainly didn’t diminish its hardness.
Brom reached out and touched Katrina’s cheek lightly. “Will you forget this nonsense about feeling guilty, then?”
“I will, but… I don’t think I can stop, Brom. Feeling this way about the both of you, I mean.” Her hand tightened around John’s, and she frowned. “I know it isn’t right, but I love John as I love you. I know—”
“It can’t be wrong if I, your husband, won’t condemn you,” Brom said. “And I won’t. Do you love me less for loving John, Katrina? Do you wish me to stop?”
She shook her head, her lips still parted. “No, no. I can’t ask you to do that, knowing how it feels, and I – I see no reason why you should.”
John listened to the exchange with a feeling of detachment, unsure of whether he ought to feel overjoyed or horrified. To think that Katrina would give him and Brom her blessing, that she wasn’t outraged, or at least deeply hurt… “Do you know what you’re saying, Katrina?”
She met John’s eyes, tightening her grip on his hand again. “I know what I mean, and I know the strength of my feelings for the both of you, and I can hardly blame my husband for experiencing the same.”
John was suddenly very aware of his heartbeat and the fact that he’d stopped breathing. Time seemed to stand still as he contemplated Katrina’s words, left breathless by their impact.
“Very well,” Brom said. “There is no love lost between the three of us.” His hand closed on John’s shoulder, and a shiver raced down John’s spine, marking the moment as one he’d remember for the rest of his life. But what about now, the immediate future – what would any of them possibly do or say next? Well, there was one very pressing matter that Brom and Katrina needed to see to. John rose from his seat on the edge of the bed, preparing to make as graceful an exit as possible.
Brom’s hand tightened on his shoulder, vice-like. “Stay, John.”
During that same moment, Katrina’s hand had tightened around his, not so strong as Brom’s, but with a fierce grip that belied her angelic expression.
“I—” He opened his mouth and the word tumbled out, single and painfully inadequate.
“This is the first moment since our marriage that there has been true peace between us.” Brom spoke with care, not lessening his grip on John’s shoulder. “I’d prefer you to stay instead of ruining a good thing by leaving.” He looked away from John, turning to his wife. “If Katrina agrees?”
Katrina nodded silently, her eyes gleaming and nearly stopping John’s heart when they met his. The moment that followed was somehow both the longest and the shortest of his life. It ended when Brom exerted pressure on his shoulder, urging him back to his seat on the edge of the bed. With knees that felt in sudden danger of buckling, sitting was a welcome relief. When John had sunk back down onto the mattress, Brom removed his hand from his shoulder, reaching for Katrina instead.
John sat frozen, his heart racing, as Brom divested Katrina of her gown. Within a few minutes, she was left in nothing but her shift – a gauzy affair, half-transparent, with a little blue bow in front. Her breasts swelled full and creamy over the neckline, and her nipples showed through the fabric, perfectly rosy. Brom caressed one of her breasts, kneading it through the thin material with obvious tenderness. Katrina sighed and wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss against his neck, and then another. This couldn’t be happening – and yet, it was. John watched as if under a spell, powerless to leave, though a distant voice called from somewhere in the far reaches of the back of his mind, demanding to know what he thought he was about, intruding like this.
Brom pulled back from Katrina a little, holding her by her shoulders. “Are you sure that you love us both equally, Katrina?”
She nodded, slightly breathless from kissing, but not in the least bit hesitant. Her eyes met John’s and she held his gaze for a moment before looking back to Brom.
“Then you shall have both of us, if that’s what you’d like.” Brom ran his fingers through her long, golden hair.
She sighed, her eyes flickering to John’s again. “I would like nothing more. Do – do you think me dreadfully wicked?”
“No,” Brom assured her, and John echoed him, seeing the earnest question in Katrina’s eyes.
Her full lips curved in a slight smile, the kind one might give someone with whom they shared a secret.
A haze of disbelief had settled around John, causing his head to swim with fears and fantasies, both equally vivid. Have them both? God, it was like something out of a dream – the sort of dream he would have treasured, but never, ever told anyone about. Not even Brom.
“Come here, John.” Brom’s hand descended on John’s shoulder again, and Brom wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close.
John responded automatically to the familiar heat and hardness of Brom’s body, seeking something to keep him grounded. He sought out Brom’s lips, and Brom responded in kind. John gave in to his urges this time, thrusting his tongue inside Brom’s mouth and kissing him soundly, pressing a hand against the man’s chest and feeling his heart hammer away beneath, reassuringly steady. Katrina was so near that her heat warmed John too, and her soft exclamations of “oh, oh…” filled his ears, elevating his need to a fever pitch. By the time he and Brom pulled apart, blood was roaring in his ears, and his face ached as if he’d been hit again. Slowly, he turned to Katrina, half-expecting to see horror reflected in her eyes.
She appeared shocked, but not horrified. Her eyes were round and gleaming, her lips parted and her breasts heaving slightly, as if she were breathless. The flush that colored her cheeks had spread, causing the creamy skin above her breasts to pinken too. Her nipples were unmissable, erect and straining against her delicate shift. She touched the tip of her tongue to the rim of her lower lip, her gaze darting between Brom and John’s mouths. John had never seen anyone look so beautiful. As he stared, entranced, desire rushed through him, red-hot and heedless of the absurdity of the situation and the agreement the three of them had just come to.
“Won’t you kiss me too, John?” she asked, her blush deepening.
He leaned toward her without conscious thought, pulled to her lips as if by gravity. They were petal-soft and pliant beneath his own. He kissed her more tenderly than he had Brom, gently laying a hand on her waist.
She gave a little moan and yielded to him, parting her lips in invitation.
He couldn’t help but slip his tongue inside her mouth, stroking hers. She tasted sweet – did she always taste like sugar? He delved deeper inside, half expecting to find that the sweetness was an illusion. It wasn’t. As their tongues became entwined, there was a shifting on the mattress. John was too lost in the kiss to look, but soon Katrina tensed beneath his hand, moaning. When they pulled apart, breathless, Brom was behind her, kissing the graceful arch of her neck as he cradled her breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingertips. As he continued, he looked up and met John’s gaze, his eyes burning dark with a look of desire that John recognized instantly.
Katrina turned her head toward Brom, and he kissed her as deeply as John had. John’s cock throbbed as their lips locked, and he remembered the feel of both their mouths, one soft and sweet, the other firmer and just rough enough. He wanted them both more badly than he’d ever wanted anything, and the combined desire was almost enough to kill him. When Brom reached around Katrina and grabbed the front of John’s shirt, pulling him close, sheer passion took over again.
Katrina’s breasts were soft against John’s chest, her nipples stiff against his waistcoat. He cupped a breast in one hand, his fingers brushing Brom’s as he rubbed her nipple, causing it to spring up even harder beneath his
touch. Katrina moaned again, the sound nearly lost in Brom’s mouth, and a thrill of satisfaction assailed John. He played with the little bud, drawing a sharp breath when she arched against him. On impulse, he leaned down, pressing his lips to the exposed upper swell of her breast.
Her skin was impossibly soft, and he kissed it before leaning lower, where the sheer fabric of her shift separated his mouth from her skin. Her nipple was stiff beneath it though, and he took it between his teeth, kissing it, mouthing it. She shuddered against him, pressing a hand to the back of his head and burying her fingers in his hair, grasping it tightly. He didn’t mind the pain; rather, he enjoyed the feel of her knuckles against his skull, the eager tightness of her grip. Her nipple was firm and small against his lips and tongue, and her breast swelled sensually against his mouth as she breathed. He was interrupted when fabric brushed his chin, and he pulled away to discover that Brom had stopped kissing her and had slid his hands up her thighs, raising her shift. Now he held it gathered in his fists, and pulled it over her head as she raised her arms.
John’s cock strained painfully against his breeches as he took in the sight of her bare body – the hourglass shape of it, her shapely hips and the luscious curves of her breasts. And so much fair, creamy skin…except for her nipples, which were as pink as rose blossoms. They beckoned him, so pert and aching, he imagined, for more attention. Automatically, he reached for her, cradling the fullness of one breast and bowing his head to kiss it.
He drew its peak fully into his mouth this time, and she laid a hand on his thigh, her nails pressing sharply against the fabric and biting into the flesh below. Just inches from her fingers, his balls were tight against his body, heavy with desire. What would it feel like to have her wrap her fingers around his cock? Her grip was firm, and he could just imagine it around his shaft, bringing him quickly to release. The vivid image consumed him until she leaned back with a sigh, sinking onto the mattress, bringing him down too.
He lay on top of her, his lips still at her breast, his hips against her body. His erection was pressed flush against her thigh, and it felt sinfully good to have her beneath him. Too good. He raised his head and rolled, sinking onto the mattress beside her, cupping one of her breasts, unable to bring himself to give up contact completely. She sighed, her chest rising and falling, her nipple a warm pinprick against his thumb.