by Ranae Rose
The mattress shifted, and Brom lay down on the other side of her, stripped to the waist. When had he removed his waistcoat and shirt? A quick look revealed that they lay on the floorboards, forgotten. He looked every bit as tempting as she did, his muscles hard and defined, his cock fully erect against the front of his breeches. Brom cupped Katrina’s other breast, teasing the stiff peak between his thumb and forefinger, then abandoning it in favor of smoothing his hand over her belly and eventually slipping it between her thighs, where her dainty curls were as golden as the hair that streamed over her shoulders.
She uttered a small gasp of surprise as Brom slid his fingers over her folds, touching the bud above. Was this the first time he’d touched her there? John tore his gaze away from the sight for just a moment, glancing at her face. Yes, he’d be willing to bet that it was. Brom had been a proper suitor and gentleman – thanks, perhaps, to the fact that he’d had John to bear the brunt of his passions. And now… Well, it was difficult to imagine anything more erotic than the sight of Brom introducing her to this, bringing her body to life. She arched against the mattress, moaning as he moved his fingertips in a circular motion. John cupped her breast more firmly by reflex, touching her nipple in a similar fashion, then pinching it lightly between his thumb and forefinger. He was rewarded with another gasp.
He quickly became absorbed in her signals, everything from the rush of her breath to the slight movements of her hips and the way her breast swelled beneath his hand as she breathed. It was a shock when his name tumbled from her lips. “John, do you intend to ever undress?”
He met her eyes as his face heated. Strange that he should be embarrassed by her request when he lay beside her with his hands on her naked body, still tasting her on his tongue. She’d pressed one hand against Brom’s bare chest, her nails digging into his skin as he touched her, now at a lazier pace. Judging by the slight smile on his lips and the lust in his eyes, he seemed to be enjoying her fierce grip.
In truth, John wanted nothing more than to remove his clothing and lie naked beside her, feeling every inch of her softness against his body, his cock. But did he dare? His clothing was as comforting as it was frustrating, an effective barrier between him and her sweet, bare body. God, but he wanted to ravage her, to—
“Of course he does,” Brom said, his dark eyes flickering up to meet John’s. An instant later, he pulled his hand from Katrina’s body and reached across her, his fingers settling on the top button of John’s waistcoat. He undid it, his eyes gleaming with deliberate intent.
As Brom’s fingers stirred against his chest, they roused even more desire in John, and he couldn’t help but think of the pleasantly rough feel of Brom’s calloused fingertips against his skin, the powerful thrusting of Brom’s hips as he— “I can manage,” John said, pulling back from Brom’s hand, fearful of being driven mad with desire and embarrassing himself by coming then and there. Once he’d said it, he had no choice but to continue, removing his waistcoat and tossing it aside, followed by his shirt. Then he was in a state of undress to equal Brom’s, but he and Katrina were both watching him, as if expecting more. His cock throbbed, begging to be freed from the confines of his breeches, but another part of him resisted.
Brom rose to his knees, quickly undid the front fall of his own breeches, slid out of them and tossed them aside, along with his stockings. His cock stretched erect from a bed of dark curls, thick as always. Despite his familiarity, John felt a pang of admiration at the sight of it, followed by nearly overwhelming longing. Katrina was staring too, and her breath caught in her throat with a small hitch. John took advantage of her distraction and finished stripping, tossing his clothing onto the floor. Katrina turned to look at him, and his cock seemed to grow even harder beneath her gaze. He eyed her nearest hand, which lay on the linens, and indulged in a blissful moment of fantasy, during which he imagined her fingers closing around his shaft.
It soon became a reality. She laid one hand on Brom’s thigh and the other on John’s. Her fingers twitched against John’s leg, and likewise against Brom’s, as if she were contemplating who to touch first. After a few moments, she wrapped one hand around the base of Brom’s cock, and then John’s. Her grip, warm and soft, wasn’t quite like anything he’d ever felt before. As she brought her hand tentatively up the length of his shaft, John groaned, watching as she did the same to Brom, running her thumb over the blunt tip of his erection with a look of interest. Brom groaned too, and her blush deepened visibly. “Does – does it feel good?” she asked.
“Yes.” Brom wrapped his hand around hers and guided it back down his shaft, then up again.
“Very,” John assured her, his balls tightening as he watched Brom guide her for a few more strokes, then gently pry her hand away and place it on the mattress.
She still had a hold on John’s cock, and moved her hand up and down in imitation of how Brom had guided her. It felt too good to allow her to continue for more than a few strokes. When he felt fierce pleasure pooling red-hot in his belly, readying for release, he stopped her, removing her hand as gently as he could. Seeing the question in her eyes, he squeezed her hand. “It felt good. Too good – I couldn’t take any more of it without—” He paused, wondering how much, exactly, Katrina knew of what to expect from a man. From two men, no less. A thread of unease wove its way through his thoughts, but she seemed to accept his stunted explanation.
“I’m glad,” she said, her lips curling into a smile that could perhaps have been described as mischievous. “Oh!” Brom had slipped his hand between her legs again, and she arched against the mattress, thrusting her sex against his fingers. Pure physical need coursed through John at the sight, banishing worry from his mind as Brom’s fingers massaged the bud above her folds, which were slick and glistening. Compelled by the desire to give her more pleasure, to hear her gasp more loudly, he laid a hand on her hip, caressed it, and let his fingers skim over her belly, settling on a breast.
She did gasp when he cupped it, squeezing, and began to tease her nipple. The sound of her pleasure sent a jolt of sensation straight to his cock, and he settled beside her, unable to resist pressing his lips against her neck, kissing her again and again. When she stiffened and began to pant, John looked down to where Brom was still touching her and had slipped a finger inside her. “Do you like that, Katrina?” he asked, withdrawing and then plunging it back into her, slowly sinking it to the knuckle.
“Yes,” she gasped.
Brom added a second finger, and she breathed hard, her hips bucking, as if desperate to take in more of him. Brom’s fingers were thick, and the sight of them disappearing into Katrina sent searing lust through John, causing him to kiss her again, harder, and flex his hips, letting his hard cock rub against her soft thigh. Brom leaned over her writhing body and whispered in John’s ear, his breath hot. “Take her.”
“What?” He stopped kissing Katrina and gaped at Brom, aghast.
“Take her,” Brom repeated.
CHAPTER 9
John froze as his cock throbbed; his body was clearly eager to heed Brom’s command, no matter how ludicrous it was. But Katrina had heard, and wrapped her arms around John’s neck, pulling him close. His chest crushed her soft breasts, and he sighed, settling obligingly between her thighs as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Brom had withdrawn his hand, and she ground her hips against John, clearly eager to be touched again, to have the desire Brom had incited satisfied. “Christ…”
He’d never deflowered a woman before; he’d only, in fact, ever slept with two, and those more than eight months ago, before he’d come to Sleepy Hollow and met Brom. Yet here he was, his cock sliding against Katrina’s slick sex. The sweet, soft temptation of her body was made irresistible by her eagerness. He reached below and grasped his cock, positioning the tip of it against her folds. She made a sound, a small moan, as he prepared to enter her, and all his inhibitions slipped away into oblivion. For better or for worse, he pushed inside her, tearing the barrier of
her maidenhead.
She gasped beneath him, going rigid. God, had he hurt her? They did say that it hurt, a woman’s first time. But how much? “Katrina, darling, are you all right?” he managed to ask, holding perfectly still, though it went against every fiber of his being.
“Yes,” she gasped, after a moment’s pause. “It hurts a little, but I don’t want you to stop.”
That was all he needed to hear. He pushed deeper, burying his shaft in her hot, silky flesh. God, he’d never felt anything so tight, so perfect. Her body embraced his cock, a flawless fit that threatened to undo him, to push him to climax and milk every drop of his seed from him. He pulled back his hips and thrust again, moaning.
She kept her arms around his neck in a fierce embrace, but he propped himself up on his elbows, not wanting to crush her. This improvement also allowed him to look at her breasts, which rose and fell beautifully, in time with his thrusting. He went much more slowly and gently than he would have preferred, but perhaps that was for the best – how long could he possibly last with the feel of her channel tightening even more around him and her breath rushing warm against his chest as she moaned? It was as if he’d slipped into a dream, one he’d had many times before, and the sheer bliss of knowing that it was reality threatened to send him over the edge.
“John…” She tightened her arms around his neck, raising her head from the mattress, her lips parted.
He bowed his head, meeting her mouth and slipping his tongue inside, kissing her deeply. A strong hand descended on his shoulder – Brom’s hand – and slid down his back, cupping his ass. A trail of heat sizzled down his spine in the wake of Brom’s touch, and John thrust harder, his lips separating from Katrina’s in a ragged gasp. Something warm brushed his chest – Brom’s other hand, as it slipped between his and Katrina’s bodies, fondling her breast.
Brom caressed her skillfully, teasing her nipple, making her arch against the mattress. He touched her all over, his hand traveling over her body in soft strokes and languid circles as he pressed his lips against her neck, kissing a trail from her jaw to her collarbone. She cried out, and her channel began to pulse around John’s cock, impossibly tight.
John came too, his climax overlapping hers. With her body milking it out of him and one of Brom’s hands still firmly on his ass, he couldn’t have held back any longer if he’d wanted to. His seed rushed from him and his deep groan joined the chorus of passionate sounds – Katrina’s cries and Brom’s deep, audible breathing. Then it was over, and John withdrew, offering Katrina one last kiss, brushed lightly across her sweet lips.
As John sank onto the mattress beside Katrina, he met Brom’s eyes. They were glittering like black diamonds, the pupils dilated, just barely distinguishable from the dark rims of his irises. His lips were parted, his cock impressively erect, a pearly drop of moisture glistening at the tip. The stirrings of arousal began again in John, despite the fact that he’d just given Katrina his all.
Brom laid a hand on Katrina’s shoulder and she turned toward him, lying on her side while placing a hand on his thigh and caressing it, reaching above to cradle his balls in her palm. Brom groaned, his broad shoulders tensing, and lay down beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tight against his chest. The round swell of Katrina’s bottom faced John as her and Brom’s lips met, and she thrust it toward him as she pressed herself against Brom, burying a hand in his dark hair.
They kissed deeply, for a long time, and a shiver of delight ran down John’s spine as he watched. He was aroused but tired, and thus content to observe the sensual way Brom and Katrina’s bodies entwined, a study in contrast; one large and hard, muscles tanned from outdoor labor, and the other soft and milky-white, curving in all the right places. Katrina seemed just as eager to have Brom as she had been to have John; she wriggled against Brom, kissing him, petting him and making small sounds of yearning until he rolled her over, settling between her legs.
John’s heart began to beat in double-time as he watched Brom prepare to enter her, his muscular hips splitting her creamy thighs. The muscles in his arms stood out, corded, as he supported himself, his elbows against the mattress. Katrina’s breasts heaved in anticipation, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering his name.
* * * * *
Brom pushed inside Katrina in one steady thrust, groaning as she gasped in response. Though her body was still warm and tingling where John’s had touched hers as he’d made love to her, her flesh responded to Brom’s presence in new ways, stretching to accommodate him. “Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“Not much,” she said, letting her eyes drift half-closed in bliss. “Don’t stop,” she added after studying his face and noting his concerned expression. “Don’t stop.” The slight edge of pain was nothing compared to the delicious feeling of his thighs between hers, of his hardness filling her, making her channel pulse and tighten around his cock, sending shivers of pleasure into every last fiber of her being. Perhaps it was unusual – wanton, even – that she craved him so after having just had John, but she felt as if she couldn’t possibly be completely satisfied until she’d let them both claim her – until Brom succumbed to the pleasure of their joining and bowed his head just as John had, pressing one last kiss against her lips like a seal of completion.
He thrust a second time, his muscles tight with the effort – of holding back, she sensed. “I won’t,” he said. “I can’t.” He rocked into her again and again, every muscle in his body tense from giving her as much as he dared. It was plain that he labored to restrain himself, and the tenderness he showed her was touching. Katrina glanced aside for just a moment and saw that John was smiling faintly to himself as Brom smoothed a stray lock of hair off her cheek and kissed her there.
Heat flared in her middle as she remembered the feel of John’s body against hers, of him inside her, and for a moment it was him making love to her, not Brom. Then Brom pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, filling her mind with his presence as thoroughly as he filled her body. As she closed her eyes and surrendered to the pulse-quickening ecstasy of it, she hadn’t a clue what John was thinking. All she knew was that this night would be forever entrenched in her memory, and she’d probably never look at either of the men without thinking – tenderly, longingly – of the other as well. Perhaps that was for the best; perhaps that meant that their love could truly be shared.
Tender and slow though their lovemaking was, it wasn’t long before Katrina’s body surrendered to the same toe-curling pleasure that had overtaken her as John had made love to her. It seized her in its grip, driving all other thoughts and sensations from her mind as her channel tightened impossibly around Brom’s cock, sending a wave of shimmering heat over her entire body. She cried out as Brom pressed her deep into the mattress, which sank beneath their combined weight, and her pleasure peaked. It ebbed slowly and delightfully, and Brom came only moments later, seizing fistfuls of the linens and groaning deeply as he thrust into her, clearly caught in the grip of passion and going more forcefully than he’d dared to before. Each stroke caused her womb to tighten, forcing the breath out of her lungs as she gasped.
* * * * *
A few minutes later, when everyone’s breathing had mellowed, John slipped over the side of the bed and put out the candle that rested on a nearby stand and had illuminated the lovemaking with soft light. Despite the darkness, a hand darted out and closed firmly around his wrist. John had thought Brom too exhausted in the wake of his passion to move so quickly, but he’d been wrong. Brom pulled him back into bed, putting a quick end to John’s contemplation of whether he should return to the spare room across the hall. Lying close beside Brom, with Katrina nearby, John fell asleep more quickly than he’d expected – faster, in fact, than he ever had in his life.
* * * * *
Katrina awoke to the sound of a single early-rising bird that called from the tree branches outside the bedroom window, apparently unfazed by the chill of the autumn morning. The cool
air touched her cheeks and caused gooseflesh to rise on one arm when she lifted it from beneath the blankets. The rest of her body was wonderfully warm, heated by Brom’s, which was like a hearthstone, always emanating comforting heat. He lay beside her, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with the peaceful rhythm of sleep. On his other side, John lay against him, equally unaware that the day was beginning to dawn. Despite the pleasantness of lying with them in the warm bed, Katrina slipped from beneath the blankets and stood, rubbing her arms for warmth as her skin pebbled and her nipples sprung up small and instantly hard.
Once she woke in the mornings, she never managed to fall back asleep. She hurried as quietly as she could manage to the wardrobe and pulled out a clean shift – a sturdier one than the pretty but flimsy undergarment she’d worn the night before – along with a gown and stockings. She neglected to put on stays and petticoats; those could wait until later. She wanted to make it out of the room without waking Brom and John. They needed the rest – John especially, with his injuries – and this way, she could have a nice breakfast ready for them by the time they rose.
Brom’s kitchen lacked many of the ingredients she’d considered essentials in her kitchen at her father’s home, but she could make do. He had flour, a little sugar – both of which had probably been languishing in their sacks since his mother’s death – and she could collect a few eggs from the hen house and make griddle cakes. They were a specialty of Mrs. Jansen’s, but the recipe was simple enough that Katrina didn’t doubt her ability to make some that were appetizing – if she could find some preserves to be spread over them, that was. And yes, there was a jar of them, sitting unopened on the kitchen table. Raspberry preserves – Brom’s favorite. Which farmwife had been kind enough to bring them by?