As Wicked as You Want: Forever Ours Book 1

by Nia Farrell

  “Yes. Of course. Hopefully it won’t come to that.” I turned to Edward. “Your turn, Sir. How was your day, Professor Wainwright? Did any students misbehave during your lecture and need to be punished?”

  “No,” he said smoothly. “But someone here worked through her lunch and forgot to eat.”

  Oh dear.

  “Not good for your stomach, is it? And yet you went without food, at the risk of your health.” He prowled toward me now, like a lion locked on his quarry. “Lesson Three,” he murmured. “After supper. Daniel may watch if he so chooses.”

  That got Daniel’s attention quick enough. “Lesson Three?”

  “Um…Discipline,” I explained, casting a glance at Edward, who nodded for me to continue. “I’m to be punished for endangering my health. Following supper, I will submit myself to Edward’s will and surrender to his judgment. You may watch, but if you deem to be present, you cannot interfere. The power to stop him abides with me. One word, and Edward quits whatever it is that he’s doing. The word is Delphi. Regardless of what escapes my mouth during our session, unless you hear Delphi, you must trust that he has not gone too far.”

  Supper was consumed in a state of heightened senses. Daniel was as much on edge as I was, imagining what might happen, wondering if he could bear to watch it, thinking where it all might lead. Edward’s turquoise gaze burned hot and bright, as if he were already relishing the feel of my reddened flesh and his fingers, slick with my juices, and imagined his ultimate possession, taking me in whatever manner he might choose.

  Daniel might be a fighter but he had a tender heart where I was concerned. I truly didn’t know if he could handle watching, but from the set of his jaw, he was determined to try. He followed us up the stairs to Edward’s room. From there, I was sent to mine, with orders to return naked in fifteen minutes. He’d allowed enough time to properly hang my clothes and make use of the water closet, emptying my body in preparation of what was to come.

  I paused at the threshold, steeled myself, and stepped into his chamber. Edward was such a complex man, there was no guessing what he had in mind. I must wait until he showed his hand, as it were. Sure enough, it held a belt, one of his favorite implements to discipline my tender flesh. Daniel was in the sitting area of Edward’s room, ensconced in a heavy wing-backed chair, looking as uncomfortable as a prince forced to sit upon his father’s throne.

  Edward stalked toward me, tapping his favorite leather belt against his thigh in syncopated rhythm. He was, in bare feet, only eight inches taller than my five-and-a-half feet height, but in that moment I felt so very small, naked and vulnerable, that my legs started to tremble.

  He gave me a satisfied smile, then fisted my hair and dragged me to Daniel’s chair. “Kneel,” he ordered. “Between his feet with your face in his lap. And you. Hold her hands. Be her strength if hers begins to fail.”

  Oh, God.

  “Now,” said Edward. “You’ve disappointed me, pet. Working without breaks, skipping meals, not drinking enough to stay healthy. We can’t have that, can we, Daniel? Elena must remember to take care of herself. Lessons learned the hard way are also the hardest to forget. I think twenty-four strokes should do the trick, one for each year of her age, hmm?”

  I nearly sighed in relief. I was afraid that Edward would say fifty (or more), given our history. Clearly, this was as much a test for Daniel as a lesson for me, and he’d deliberately lessened my punishment for Daniel’s sake. However, that didn’t mean he would pull his punches.

  I knelt between Daniel’s parted feet and bent at the waist, until my face was in his lap. There was no mistaking the tenting of his pants as his body responded to my naked form. He grasped my wrists and pulled my hands against his chest, where even through the layers of cloth, I could feel the beating of his heart.

  Behind me, Edward was preparing himself, shedding his frockcoat and waistcoat and rolling up his shirtsleeves as I’d seen him do before. “Count,” he ordered.

  The first blow fell. Daniel flinched and tightened his grip. “One,” I choked out, reeling from the force of it. “Two,” I counted through a throat tight with tears. “Three…”

  Daniel’s erection rose hot and hard against my crown. Facedown, my lips were against the base of his phallus. My chin brushed his balls with every word out of my mouth.

  “Twenty-four.”

  The belt fell, abandoned on the floor. Edward knelt behind me, examining his handiwork, sliding his finger along my slit and finding proof of my arousal. “Soaking wet,” he growled. Unfastening his fly and pulling out his erection, he lubricated himself with my juices then slammed inside, taking me in one volatile thrust that ground my face into Daniel’s lap. Edward wrapped his hands around my shoulders and pounded into me, relentless, merciless against my tender flesh.

  “Take out his cock.”

  I jerked my gaze upward to meet Daniel’s. The loathing he felt towards Edward for punishing me was quickly overwhelmed by desire. I tugged on my hands. He abandoned his hold. I unbuttoned his fly and freed his erection.

  “Now suck it,” Edward grunted. “That’s it. Yes. Take him deep, down your throat. Careful not to bite. We’ll have to add more strokes.”

  Easier said than done, given the way Edward was taking me, hips thrusting, his cock drilling into me, his balls slapping against me. I gripped the arms of the chair to brace myself and kept my focus on Daniel, who flexed his hips and fisted my hair, taking control of our rhythm, eventually synchronizing it with Edward’s, until Edward decided it was time to revisit Lesson Two.

  “Yes,” he hissed, sinking his cock into my ass. I felt Daniel tense, and his cock jerk, whether in arousal or surprise, I could not say, but soon enough they’d regained their rhythm, forging in, sliding out and driving in again.

  Edward, with his unearthly amount of self-control, held back his release until Daniel achieved his, exploding in my mouth, swollen streams of ejaculate that I was hard-pressed to keep within the banks, let alone swallow. No sooner had I lifted up, releasing him, than I felt Edward climax, shuddering and jerking as he poured himself into my depths.

  “Good girl,” he crooned, kissing my back. “Now let’s get you clean and put balm on your arse. Aftercare,” he told Daniel. “She still has needs, even when we are done. Bath first, then a healing compound for the marks on her skin, to soothe the sting and promote healing.”

  Edward picked me up as if I were half my weight and carried me into his water closet. His bathing tub was massive, large enough to easily fit the three of us when the time came. From what happened tonight, I had a feeling that it would be sooner rather than later.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Daniel did not follow us. He stayed in Edward’s room, no doubt processing what had happened, reconciling his needs with ours. Edward needed to dominate. I needed the catharsis that his discipline provided. Daniel and I needed each other.

  Edward drew my bath, then helped me into the tub. The waist-deep water swirled around me and I sank into its scent, immersing myself in jasmine to my shoulders. Taking a sponge, Edward started washing me from head to toe and back again, wetting my hair and shampooing it, the sensual flex and play of his fingers pulling me under his spell as surely as any drug.

  Unable to help myself, I moaned in purest pleasure.

  “Your hands are magic,” I breathed. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “So you have said,” he noted. “On more than one occasion, if memory serves.”

  “It does.” I bit my lip, hoping I wouldn’t break this bond between us by mentioning another man, but I needed to know how Daniel was, and so I asked.

  “Coming along,” Edward hummed. “You pleased him tonight. Greatly, if I am not mistaken. The way you took him after receiving your punishment. Such grace. Such submission. You did well, pet. Very well. Now let’s get you dried off and tend that bottom.”

  I was wrapped, toga-like, in a dry towel to ward off the chill I’d felt when I crawled to the center of Edward�
�s bed and stretched out on my stomach. Edward showed Daniel the balm that he’d found worked best and demonstrated how to apply it on my bruised and reddened flesh. He pointed out that sexual arousal was not uncommon during the process, both for the giver and receiver and had me part my legs to prove his point. Because I had done so well, he brought me off with his hand, curling his fingers and hitting the spot that swiftly pushed me to the edge and over, my core convulsing, my body clenching, clamping down on his hand as if to trap and keep him there.

  “She is so responsive,” he told Daniel. “So open. There is very little she will not try, just to please us. Unfortunately, she has had enough tonight. The chill she felt was but one clue. After a session, it is important to keep her warm and watch for anything out of joint. Tremors. Chills. Thready pulse. Rapid breathing. The best thing that you can do is lie with her, skin to skin. Fortunately, she has two of us to take care of her, to see to her needs, hmm?”

  Within minutes, Edward had climbed into bed. Lying on his side, he pulled me against him, with my back to his front. Daniel was focused on me as he stiffly shed his clothes and joined us. He stretched out beside me, facing me, inching closer until my breasts were pressed into his chest and our heads shared a pillow. Lifting a hand, he smoothed a damp tendril from my face, his expression enigmatic.

  “Thank you,” I told him. “You did well tonight. And Edward is right. It helps, having you here. Makes me feel safe. Warm.”

  Loved.

  I yawned then, ungodly loud in the moonlit room, breaking the spell being woven between us. “Sorry.” I yawned again, just as awful. “Sorry. Just…tired.”

  “Then sleep,” said Daniel. And I did.

  I awoke the next morning with my nose in Daniel’s chest. Edward had slipped away, no doubt fencing at shadows upstairs, keeping his skills sharp enough to parry the blunted blades that were wielded in fencing matches.

  I lifted my face and met Daniel’s eyes, brilliant green and swirling with second guesses. Should he have watched? Should he have joined in? Should he have stayed?

  I kissed him. If nothing else, it distracted him enough to shift his focus to me. Us. Here. Now.

  “That’s better,” I purred. “You looked so far away, I thought I’d lost you.”

  “Never,” he swore, and kissed me back. “Just…be patient. I’m trying, Lanie, but….”

  “I know.” It was new to us, this relationship that Edward was determined to forge with the three of us. “I know. But we’ll be learning together, yes?”

  He nodded stiffly. “He told me to check yer arse. Put on more balm.”

  “All right.” I rolled to my stomach and pulled the sheet down to mid-thigh.

  Daniel dipped his finger in the herbal unguent and applied it to the marks where Edward’s belt had struck my skin. “Jaysus, Joseph and Mary,” he swore. “I don’t see how ye can find pleasure in it.”

  “That makes two of us,” I confessed. “But you saw. Last night, he showed you what it does to me. I can’t explain it. Before, if you’d told me what would happen, I’d have called you a liar. Even now, just from you touching my bruises, from feeling raw and exposed…I’m wet all over again.”

  I met his gaze, silently offering myself if he would have me, but this was Edward’s bed, Edward’s room. Daniel was already conflicted about my pain. Refusing to add to it, he shook his ginger head and finished the task at hand. Closing the tin, he set it where Edward could easily find it.

  Yesterday, I’d been tempted to keep Daniel with me. Today, I was grateful that he would soon be gone, headed down to the abbey. “You need to shave,” I told him, keeping my voice soft, my tone persuasive. “Wash. Comb your hair. Remember to have Babs pack your lunch while you eat breakfast. I’ll want a report when you return. Now, one more kiss before you go.”

  He gave me that much, at least, then gathered his clothes and slipped away, going into my room, where it would be a straight shot across the hall into his, once he’d seen that the coast was clear. One door, then another, opened and closed.

  I blew out softly, releasing my breath with a distinct sense of relief. I wondered if there was something wrong with me, to feel this way, to be spared the looks of censure and confusion that marred his countenance. The frown that he’d worn was so out of place on my Irishman’s face, his expression at odds with the laugh lines that bracketed his mouth and etched the corners of his emerald eyes. I had no wish to make him sad, or upset, and yet it was inevitable, until he could find a way to accept that part of Edward’s and my relationship, his need to inflict pain and my need for the sense of exculpation that it provided. It was hard for Daniel to stay and watch, and yet he had done so, for my sake more than his. He’d stayed and eventually been drawn into joining. The feeling of being used at both ends…well, the memory made my body hum anew.

  The door opened, and Edward stepped inside, the sheen of sweat on his skin from his morning exercise. “Daniel needed to get ready for the day,” I said. “I told him to have Babs pack his lunch. I expect he’ll stay the day, but I could be wrong.”

  “No.” Edward swiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “I believe that Daniel will spend most days at the abbey,” he stressed dramatically, the hint of humor in his voice disappearing when his eyes turned serious again. “And you will take care of yourself today. I went light on you the once for his sake. Next time it will be one hundred strokes, and there will be blood. Think on that, should you be tempted to play hazard with your health, hmm?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Now kiss me, sweaty thing that I am. I must be off soon, and I would leave with the taste of you on my lips.”

  I obliged him, relishing the tang of salt, the smell of musk, the scent of sex still clinging to his skin. While Daniel used the water closet down the hall, Edward used his own. No doubt they’d eat breakfast together. It would be a while before I was ready to go down.

  “Edward,” I called through the door as he was shaving, “can you please tell Babs that I’ll eat later? If she could keep a plate warm, or a bowl of oatmeal, well, that would be appreciated.”

  “Nonsense.” He ducked his head out of the door, his face half covered in soap, the other half scraped clean. “I shall have it sent up.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it when he shot a black look my way. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Hmmph. That’s better.”

  *****

  Self-conscious about being waited upon naked in Edward’s room, I returned to my own chamber, donned a chemise, and tucked myself gingerly into bed. Edward checked in before heading downstairs. A short time later, Lucy arrived with a tray boasting food enough for two meals, plus coffee, milk, and sweet, fresh cider.

  I was hungrier than I thought, because I made short work of three-fourths of it.

  With breakfast done, a nice, hot bath was in order. Edward’s warning still rang in my ears, and I was determined to not give him any excuse to make good on it. I soaked. I sighed. Eventually I dressed. The next tray brought to my door held a light but filling repast for lunch. Once I’d done it justice, I took an apple and a ewer of water and headed upstairs to work.

  I was an artist, after all.

  I’d had all morning to process last night, to sort through the images engrained in my mind. Daniel, looking for all the world like a reluctant witness dragged to an execution. Daniel, cringing when the first lash fell, then steeling himself when he saw how I yielded to it. Daniel, nostrils flared, inhaling the scent of my arousal as Edward entered me from behind. Daniel, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, suppressing a moan as I sucked him off. Daniel, climbing nude into bed and gathering me in his arms, holding me to his heart while I drifted into sleep.

  If I’d been fascinated with his cock, Daniel’s mouth now held me in its thrall. Page after page, I sketched it. Sketched him. Seated in Edward’s chair. Stretched out on his bed. Before each new page, I had a bite of apple and a few sips of water. Edward’s warning had become the voice of a new consciousn
ess that I was determined to follow.

  The last sketch was Daniel, head cocked, eyes squinting, one hand holding the tin of balm, the other hand reaching to apply it. I’d just done the rough outline and had started filling in details when a knock sounded on the studio door.

  “Come in,” I called and kept on working.

  The door opened. Daniel stepped inside.

  I could tell from the way that he held himself, his leg was bothering him again. No doubt he’d been standing most of the day. “Next time you go, you will take a chair. Edward has plenty enough to spare. Find one that’s padded and built for a man’s frame, leave it at the abbey, and use it, Daniel. I mean it. There’s no sense in making things worse for yourself. Now, have you taken anything to ease it? Whiskey? Brandy? Wine?”

  He shook his head. “No. Ye said ye wanted a report as soon as I returned.” Ducking his chin, he angled a schoolboy’s wary glance at me, braced for another reprimand.

  Foolish man, to take things literally. Lovely man, to serve and obey.

  “You,” I said softly. “Go to Edward’s study and pour yourself as many shots as you need. I’ll clean up and meet you there shortly, hmm?”

  He looked to be on his fourth glass or so by the time I came downstairs. Meanwhile, Edward had arrived, and the two men were engaged in a conversation that I had no intention of interrupting. Daniel was describing Fredericksburg, where he’d taken a Minié ball to the leg in a disastrous charge, made over open ground against the enemy holding the long, stone wall that lined a sunken road.

  “It was December,” he said, his voice slightly slurred. “Colder than a witch’s teat. Engineers had built pontoon bridges and finally managed to get us across the Rappahannock, but we still had to fight our way through the town. Burnside, the bastard, was blind with ambition. Determined to take Marye’s Heights whatever the cost, he ordered one charge, then another, and another. Fourteen charges. Men mown down like hay, bodies piled one atop the other like sacrifices to one man’s vanity. We couldn’t advance. Couldn’t retreat. We huddled behind the fallen, the wounded and the dead. When night came, any movement was met with musket fire.”