by Megan Mulry
Heading straight for the staircase, she grabbed at her skirt and took the treads two at a time. Archie, Christopher, and Beatrix were close on her heels. She careened around the turn in the bannister, and Mary came flying out of her chamber. “Is everything all right, my lady? You’re back so soon.” Then Mary’s face shifted from concern to embarrassed awareness. She curtseyed. “You won’t be needing me, then.”
“No!” Selina practically sang. “I’m ever so grateful for everything you did to make me presentable for this evening—” the other three had already entered the master suite ahead of her and she was walking backwards as she spoke to her maid “—but it seems it was going to be a terrible bore so we decided to return home for . . . a game of Whist. Now that the marquess has returned and we have a fourth.”
Mary smiled and curtseyed again. “Yes, my lady.” Then the maid turned, made her way briskly to the servants’ stairs, and was gone.
Selina spun around and stepped into Archie’s room. Her room. Their room. She shut the door behind her and watched as Christopher began to touch Archie. She marveled at the way he handled him, and how pleased Archie looked to be touched and almost roughened up in that way, especially while Selina and Beatrix watched.
“Archie,” Christopher ordered, “say hello to your wife and her lover.”
She realized all the shame was gone—all the forced compliance of their tryst in the laboratory, which had been delectable in its way: gone. This was something else altogether, something glorious. Archie’s eyes shone with desire and eagerness, as they always had, but there was now a sheen of independence and self-acceptance that had never been there before.
“Hello, Selina. Hello, Beatrix.” Such simple words, but said while another man’s hands were roaming across Archie’s hard abdomen, removing his immaculate blue jacket. Once the jacket was off, Archie reached his hands up behind him and laced them around the base of Christopher’s neck. The posture was both relaxed and formal, as if Archie was presenting himself to her and Beatrix for their appraisal—as if he wanted them to look.
“Hello, Archie,” she replied.
“Hello, Archie.” Beatrix followed Christopher’s lead and began undressing Selina, standing behind her and tracing the curve of Selina’s breast, the flare of her hip.
Everything felt exquisitely right. “Kiss me,” Selina whispered to Bea.
The first fiery touch of Bea’s lips against her neck sent searing pleasure to her nipples and a rippling excitement between her legs. She kept her eyes locked on Archie’s, searching his gaze for any hint of worry or resistance to what he was seeing. Bea moved slowly, those warm, wet kisses blazing a trail to her ear, where Bea proceeded to nip at her sensitive lobe.
Gasping at the piercing sensation, she kept watching Archie, watching the way his lips were slightly open and his cheeks were flushed. She glanced down to where Christopher had finished unbuttoning the fall of Archie’s trousers and moaned when she saw Archie’s hard cock spring free. She licked her lips when Christopher took hold of it with one knowing hand—so rough and sure—and her eyes flew back to Archie’s. He was looking at her with so much hope and desire, and what appeared to be a hint of fear.
“This is me,” he whispered. Christopher’s hold around his bare waist tightened, keeping him safe, assuring him, but Christopher’s steady pumping of Archie’s cock never ceased.
“I love that this is you.” Bea had loosened the upper half of Selina’s gown, and she slowly lowered the sleeves and bodice to reveal her tight, aroused breasts. Bea’s hands squeezed and kneaded her from behind. “This is me, Archie. Can you see me? Can you love me, knowing how much I love this? How much I love her?” Her hand reached up for Bea and, as if in a dream, she turned and brought Bea’s mouth to hers.
The kiss was an inferno of need and desire and then pure simple love, Selina connecting with Bea in a way she never had—openly—without that lingering worry that Archie did not know the truth, that she had not been completely honest. This was what complete honesty felt like.
When she pulled away from the kiss, slow shallow breaths warm on her moist lips, she turned back to find Archie was right in front of her, with Christopher pressed close behind.
“Yes.” Archie looked into her eyes, then leaned in and kissed her hard. “Yes,” he repeated, “I love you like this.” Then he turned his head slightly. “Welcome, Beatrix.”
And Selina’s heart fell to the center of the earth as he tilted his head and kissed Beatrix lightly on the lips. Her eyes closed as the seductive sound of Archie and Bea kissing, so near to her ear, right there at her shoulder, set her heart thudding.
“Thank you,” Archie whispered into Bea’s lips, and the words wound through to Selina’s soul. She opened her eyes slowly to see Christopher looking at her with that devil-may-care half smile of his, while his hands roamed lazily up and down Archie’s arms and shoulders.
“Are you happy, Lady Camburton?” he asked politely, as if they were in a public drawing room or at a ball, rather than half-naked and pressed together like the pages of a book.
“Ecstatic.”
Archie smiled at her. “Turn around so I may finish with your gown.”
When she obliged, she looked into Bea’s eyes. “And are you happy, my love?”
In answer, Bea began removing the pins from Selina’s hair. “I am. But I should be ever so much happier without all these confining clothes on.”
“Are you sure?” All hint of playfulness was gone from her voice. She and Bea had spoken about this moment many times. Bea had never been with a man, and the last thing Selina wanted was for her to feel compelled to participate.
“Yes. Seeing you with him—being with you while you take him—loving you while he loves you—that will be one of the great joys of my life.” Bea reached up and pulled the last hairpin out so Selina’s blonde hair tumbled free. “I am quite sure.”
Selina began undoing Bea’s fastenings, fumbling with the stays and ribbons in her excitement—while Archie did the same for her, and Christopher did the same for him—until they were all naked and she was able to press herself against the curves and fire of Bea’s supple body.
And then she simply groaned with joy and desire. Archie was naked against her back—the rough, familiar texture of hair and muscle and bone; Bea was at her front—smooth and lithe. Christopher was also there, encircling them all while providing the anchor and strength that fulfilled Archie’s—finally admitted—needs.
She smiled dreamily, and Bea smiled in return. The four of them tumbled in an awkward pile onto the large bed, with laughter and touches and kisses and moans punctuating their fall. They pulled at the sheets, grabbed at each other, rolled, and squirmed. She was in an exquisite reverie, where all of her long-held fantasies were being brought to life.
Yet, there was nothing dreamlike about the very real details of their lovemaking: Bea’s hand at her breast, Archie’s mouth on her pussy, even Christopher’s firm hold on her hip, all felt specific and necessary.
She closed her eyes in bliss, then felt a second mouth on her pussy—her head flew up off the pillow, and she saw Archie and Bea side by side between her wantonly spread legs. Christopher was holding her in place with both hands now, pressing her hips into the bed with immovable pressure.
And Archie was smiling, his eyes meeting hers while his mouth was on her, and then his mouth was battling playfully with Bea’s mouth, and Christopher’s hands were preventing Selina from rocking into the pleasure of it, until somehow that resistance forged a release that was even more spectacular than she could have imagined.
She cried out and arched her back and still their mouths sucked and licked and worked into her. While her body continued to quake, she gasped in amazement as Bea whispered something in Archie’s ear, then Bea smiled up and nodded to Christopher. Before Selina realized what was happening, Archie was on his knees between her legs, lifting Selina’s hips to suit him, and then thrusting into her. She was still so sensitive from the s
hattering orgasm she’d just experienced, but the pressure and thoroughness of Archie inside her set her muscles alight. Everything about him made her feel replete.
And then Bea’s mouth was on her breast, making love to her and twisting her insides into something hot and malleable and desperate. She rode the pleasure, forcing herself to hold off her next release. She breathed through the intensity of it and watched as Christopher positioned himself behind Archie and then tugged possessively on Archie’s hair.
“You’re ready, Archie?” Christopher growled, but it was more of a statement than a question. Archie was ready. At last. And then she felt the reverberating thrust as Christopher entered Archie from behind and Archie thrust into her again.
When she arched her back to withdraw from Archie, to get a moment to breathe, that only served to press her sensitive breasts harder into Bea’s clever mouth; when she canted her hips in a vain attempt to pull from Bea, that only brought Archie deeper into her. It felt as if there were hands and mouths and lips and fingers everywhere. Her fingers finally found Bea’s moist center in the flow of bodies, and she reveled in Bea’s answering groan of pleasure against her breast.
“Come to me,” Selina whispered, her voice already shredded from her cries of pleasure. When Bea didn’t stop sucking on her breast, Selina dug her fingers into Bea’s scalp and forced her mouth away. “Here, damn it.” She pulled Bea’s mouth to hers and kissed her, while her other hand worked Bea’s pussy, circling her clit and then pressing two fingers into her swollen slit. “Come for me.”
Archie watched as Selina held Beatrix through her orgasm, Beatrix curled against Selina’s side and burrowing her face into Selina’s neck and shoulder while she shuddered. And Selina watched him watching. Selina held Bea with so much love and devotion, and Yes, Selina’s look seemed to say, through it all I can still belong to you.
She gave him the smallest smile of intimate understanding, a tiny nod. And then he pressed deeper into her as Christopher pressed deeper into him. The pressure was nearly beyond bearing, and he turned slightly and let his head fall back against Christopher’s solid shoulder.
“I’m going . . .” Selina whispered, her eyes saying more than her words. He felt the moment of pause, the infinite hesitation that always precipitated her release, and then she cried out again and her muscles pulled him deeper still, until he was following her into the furthest reaches of pleasure.
Christopher bit the straining, corded muscle at the turn of Archie’s shoulder and held on to him like a primitive animal while he came into Archie’s body. Archie had never experienced such an array of physical and emotional sensations. The human and the divine. The earth and the sky.
And Selina. Always Selina.
After that, the four of them were little more than a hapless bundle of limbs and breath and whispers piled atop his aristocratic bed. They all finally settled into the curves and planes of one another’s bodies, and drowsed into blissful sleep.
When the weak winter sun peeked through a narrow opening in the velvet curtains several hours later, he opened his eyes to see Selina staring at him a few inches away. Christopher was asleep behind him—and probably would be until noon or later. Beatrix seemed to be sleeping soundly behind Selina, if the other woman’s steady breathing was anything to go by.
“Happy new year, Lord Camburton.” Selina’s face was resting on her hands and he saw that Beatrix’s hand was draped gracefully over Selina’s hip.
“Happy new year, Lady Camburton.”
“I missed you terribly. Please don’t ever leave me again.”
He reached up to her cheek and traced his thumb along the beautiful lines of her face. “I shall never leave you, my lovely wife.” He kissed her briefly on the lips.
Then his eyes shifted to his right, indicating Christopher over his shoulder. “He sleeps until noon at the earliest.”
“So does she.” Selina grinned with conspiratorial glee. “Shall we go for a ride?”
“Yes.” He was as excited as a child about to play the truant, then his face fell. “Is it safe? For the babe?” He reached his hand under the covers and let his palm rest over the slight swell of her lower belly.
She put her hand over his, then laced her delicate fingers into his stronger ones. “This child comes from us, so I suspect he will be as stubborn and willful and vital as we are.”
“Still . . .” He couldn’t hide his worry.
“Very well, let us ride in your curricle.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand in his. “Excellent.”
They slid out of bed without disturbing Christopher or Bea, and quickly changed into warm clothes. Selina helped him with his cravat, and he helped Selina with her riding habit. They went down the grand staircase hand-in-hand, then crossed the front hall and turned toward the back of the mansion.
When they reached the stables, he rigged up the matching bays himself, telling the sleepy groomsman he was free to go back to bed. Confused, but grateful, the man returned to his room.
When Archie finished with the traces and the harnesses, he offered his hand to assist Selina onto the high seat. “My lady?”
She took his hand and held it, but before stepping up, she turned to him. “Thank you for loving me.”
A warm flood of emotion bloomed in his chest and then spread out to his fingertips and toes. “Thank you for showing me how.”
Explore more of the Regency Reimagined universe at: riptidepublishing.com/titles/universe/regency-reimagined
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Thank you for reading Megan Mulry’s Bound with Honor!
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There are so many people to thank for bringing these stories to life. Bound with Honor is the final installment in the Regency Reimagined world, all of which began way back when with Bound to Be a Bride in early 2012. At the time, I thought the books would be about three Spanish heroes who were trying to sail to the New World. They got waylaid, obviously.
Stories tend to take on a life of their own and that’s precisely what happened here. As I was writing and researching these books, I became increasingly fascinated with polyamory and sexual power dynamics and gender fluidity and everything, until suddenly these books became the repositories for all my nascent enthusiasms.
So without further ado, thank you to all the readers, writers, editors, and fellow twitter pervs who came along for this wild ride (and the stick-figure four-ways): Janet Webb, Miranda Neville, Anne Calhoun, Mira Lyn Kelly, Pam Rosenthal, Sarah Frantz Lyons, Delphine Dryden, Sarah MacLean, Jeffe Kennedy, Julia Broadbooks, Lexi Ryan, Magdalen Braden, Alex Whitehall, Chris Muldoon, Rachel Haimowitz, Andrea LeClair, Amelia Vaughn, Kelly Miller, Adara O’Hare, Alexandra Haughton, Amy Jo Cousins, Peg Mulry, Kathy Fay, Hope Kelly, Tamsen Parker, Alexis Hall, Jennifer RNN, CJ Lemire, Bobbi Dumas, Stephanie Wrightsman, Sassy Outwater, Mermaid Sharon, RealAng00, Jodie Griffin, Petra Grayson, Christine Maria Rose, Isobel Carr, Jenn LeBlanc, Michele Harvey, Saschakeet, Elisabeth Lane, Eloisa James, Lisa Hendrix, J. Huisinga, Kiersten Hallie Krum, Cathy Pegau, Sara H
arlequin Junkie, Lori Alpert, Sasha Harinanan, Heidi Cullinan, Landra Graf, Maya Rodale, Shari Slade, Shelley Ann Clark, Liz Blue, Emily Jane Hubbard, Deidre Meyrick, Adam Peck, Rachel Kramer Bussel, and Ken Elias.
I also want to thank all the bloggers and publications that supported these anachronistic romps: Heroes & Heartbreakers, Publishers Weekly, AustenStudent, 3 Chicks After Dark, Goodreads Ménage Reading Group, Marienela, Love Bites and Silk, Harlequin Junkie, Romance Novel News, Prism Book Alliance, Erotic Enchantments, My Book Addiction and More, Joyfully Jay, The Romance Evangelist, Creative Deeds Reads, Herding Cats & Burning Soup, and Romancing the Book.
And a very shiny, silky, breathlessly panting thank you to L.C. Chase for making the delectable Riptide covers, with wonderful photography from Novel Expressions!
Regency Reimagined
Bound to Be a Bride
Bound to Be a Groom
Bound with Love
Bound with Passion
Contemporary
A Royal Pain
If the Shoe Fits
In Love Again
R is for Rebel
Roulette
Historical
The Wallflowers
Megan Mulry writes sexy, stylish, romantic fiction. Her first book, A Royal Pain, was an NPR Best Book of 2012 and USA Today bestseller. Before discovering her passion for romance novels, she worked in magazine publishing and finance. After many years in New York, Boston, London, and Chicago, she now lives with her family in Florida.
Website: meganmulry.com
Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/4123439.Megan_Mulry
Facebook: facebook.com/meganmulry
Pinterest: pinterest.com/meganmulrybooks/