by Lynn Lorenz
“Now, you come to us.” He cupped Peter’s chin and tilted it up, then lowered his mouth in a kiss. I pressed against Peter’s back, trapping him between us. Logan’s free hand reached up to touch my face in a caress.
I could feel Peter’s body melt into the kiss and leaned into Logan as one hand dove into Logan’s long hair and his other reached behind him to grab my hip to pull me closer.
I watched Logan kiss Peter. Gods, it made me hard. Logan was so beautiful, and I wondered if this was how he looked when he kissed me. As if he could read my mind, Logan broke his kiss and pulled my head forward to kiss me.
I leaned over Peter’s shoulder as Logan kissed me, then he moved back to Peter and kissed him. Then Peter turned his head to me, and we kissed.
Logan joined us and for a moment, our mouths and tongues met in a three-part kiss, delving, moving, biting, and licking each other. I had become hard as a stone. If I didn’t have some release soon, I’d explode in my breeches.
“The bed,” I said, and together we moved to it.
Logan lay down, his back propped against the pillows, and pulled Peter on top of him. “Kneel over me.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and watched. Logan reached up, loosened Peter’s laces, and freed his cock. He was not a large man, but his cock had a good length and width, and it was well made.
“What are you going to do?” Peter’s chest rose up and down as he gulped air.
Logan said nothing, but his hands went to work. He stroked Peter’s rod with one hand, and with the other, pulled him closer. Peter, on his knees, moved forward, until his stiff rod dangled over Logan’s head. By necessity, he leaned on his hands to support himself above Logan.
I watched as Logan held Peter’s cock at the base, and his tongue bathed the swollen head.
“Goddamn,” Peter cried out; his head rocked back, and his eyes closed as the first touch slammed through him. I could see his entire body jerk, stiffen, then he pushed his hips forward, surging into Logan’s mouth. “Take me deep,” he groaned.
Logan took him, as his hands worked Peter’s shaft and sac. The man’s body was like a tight coil of copper, ready to break free.
I moved up behind him, held his hips, and pushed his breeches to his knees. My hands caressed his ass, my thumbs dipping into his valley to press soft against his puckered hole. Gods, he was so tight. If I didn’t loosen him first, I might hurt him. I reached for the oil on the bedside table and poured some on my hands, then worked it into my cock. I had to be careful; I was not far from releasing and wanted to spill inside Peter, not waste it in the air.
I circled his hole with my finger.
“Will it hurt?” Peter asked, between moans. Logan could work miracles with his tongue, and I envied Peter that his cock was being treated to such pleasure.
“Aye. But such sweet pain, Peter, so sweet, you’ll shoot all you have when I take you.”
I slipped my finger inside him, and he groaned. “Gods, that shouldn’t feel so good.”
“But it does. And when I fuck you, it will feel even better.”
Peter shuddered. Logan sucked. I fucked Peter’s tight ass with my finger until I couldn’t stand it.
I pulled out, then stroked his valley with my cock to find his entrance. I held his hip with one hand.
“Put your leg up, Peter,” I told him.
Peter moved to kneel on one knee, the other out to the side, giving me more access to him. I pressed the tip of my rod forward and watched as it slipped inside. He was tight, hot, and his muscles clenched around my shaft. I pushed in further.
Peter cried out, his body shaking; every muscle in his body flexed as Logan and I took him.
Now, I eased back, and began that sweet rhythm, the rocking of one body against another, my sac thudding against Peter’s, as the thrusting pushed his cock into Logan’s mouth.
I held his hips and drove harder, until a fine sheen broke out on Peter’s and my skin. Logan lay beneath us, and I could tell from the motion of his arm that he was pumping hard on his own cock.
I hoped we’d all come together, but that was too much to ask.
Peter spilled first. He sobbed his release as he let go. His body froze, but I kept pounding into him, my own release moments away. I rode him as I lost my grip on my control and exploded deep inside him.
Below us, I heard Logan’s sweet groan as he shot.
I pulled out and sat back. Peter fell to the side, and Logan grinned up at me, his hand still on his softening shaft, his cream splattered across his belly, tangled in the soft blond hair that spread upward from the base of his rod.
“Damn,” I said, shaking my head.
“Goddamn,” Logan said.
“You bastards,” Peter sighed as he tried to regain his breath.
Logan held out his arms to me, and I went to him. I lay in his arms and we kissed. Peter watched us, I think with envy.
“You are lovers, then,” he said, rolling onto his side, as his hand ran over my back in a soft caress.
“More than just lovers. I love Logan.”
“And I love Drake.”
“And I love my wife.” Peter groaned, then laughed.
Both Logan and I joined him, sharing the laugh.
“I don’t plan on making this a common occurrence.” Peter sobered.
“We didn’t expect you to. Your good wife might have something to say about it.” Logan chuckled.
“Peter, we enjoyed this, but we don’t expect more. If we invite you again, you may refuse, and you may ask to join us and we may refuse. I have the feeling your wife means more to you than we,” I said.
Peter sat up. “You’re right. It was an experience I’d wanted for some time, but I’m not going to give up my woman for it.”
He stood and began to dress. “I think I’ll leave you to each other, if you have anything left. I’m sure I don’t.” He shook his head.
Logan looked at me. “When it comes to Drake, I always have the desire for him.”
It was the best thing he could have said. He’d stated his desire for me, and that I was the one who made him hunger.
I reached for him, unable to speak at that moment, and he pulled me to him and kissed me.
Peter straightened his clothing. I got out of bed and walked him to the door. He turned and gave Logan a sharp bow.
“My lord duke, I take my leave.”
“Good night, Peter.” Logan nodded.
Peter’s gaze fell on my lips. I reached up, pulled him to me, and kissed him. He opened his mouth to me and our tongues danced, then he stepped back.
“Drake, until I met you in that tavern, I’d never thought about being with a man.” His hand fell to my ass, and he squeezed one cheek. “Logan is lucky.”
With that, I opened the door, and he slipped out and went down the hall. Across the way, the door of the boys’ room was shut. I stepped across, opened it, and checked on them. Brute raised his head, saw it was me, then went back to sleep.
Joss laid spread across his bed, his toy horse clutched in his hand. When had his legs become so long? There was a movement behind me, and Logan leaned in to check on Tomas.
His son slept, his thumb tucked safely inside his mouth, his long hair falling over his face.
“He looks like an angel,” I whispered.
Logan smiled, all his love for his son resting in his eyes.
“Those clothes you bought Joss will be outgrown when winter ends.”
We retreated and closed the door. Back in the room, Logan pulled me to bed, and we fell together, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“It’s quite a family we have,” Logan said, as he snuggled against my chest.
“That’s just what I had been thinking.”
Chapter Seventeen
We had settled into a daily routine. Waking, eating with the boys, then off to our separate duties, Logan to tend his properties and I to work with my men or consult with the carpenter over the plans for the stations. Then the midday meal wi
th the boys, sword practice, and then the lads were left to play, having free run of the keep. We’d meet again before the evening meal to supervise cleaning and listen to the boys’ stories of their imagined adventures as skilled fighters. Evening’s supper came quick enough. Afterward, Joss would work on his letters and reading while Tomas and Logan spent time together.
Logan and I would put them into their beds and bid them good night, close their doors, and then retire to our separate rooms, only to rush to be the first to open the door that joined them. I’d found happiness in our life together.
Time for me to accompany the carpenter and the loads of wood to build the first station drew closer, so I began to prepare Joss for my absence. At first, he became angry that he wasn’t coming with me, but he agreed to stay when I told him that I needed him to keep watch over Tomas.
Looking back, I should never have charged him with Tomas’s keeping. It was too great a charge for a boy, although I knew children all over the lands watched far smaller and far more children than Joss now had.
The day had begun like all the ones before it over the last month; only there was a chill in the air that told everyone winter was bearing down on us. Preparations had begun, wood cut and stacked, meats smoked and dried, grain and vegetable larders filled, and the winter wool clothing had been strung across the bathing area to air out and be ready to be worn once the snow and ice came.
Even the tubs had become too cold for me to visit, the sun too low to warm the stones of the yard or my shoulders.
The midday meal arrived, and I entered the castle to find Logan sitting alone at the table.
“Where are the boys?” I asked, taking my place across from him. We’d taken to eating next to our boys, instead of Logan at the head and I on his right.
“I haven’t seen them. They’ll show up when their hunger grows too big to ignore.”
We ate, talking of castle matters, and finished, and still no sign of the boys.
“I’ll see them for sword practice. They haven’t missed once,” I assured Logan.
But the bailey was empty. I waited, sitting with the swordsticks on the bench, but after a half hour passed, I stood and began my search. Logan was with his advisors, and I felt no need to alarm him, but the boys had never been missing this long before.
By the time I’d searched the tubs, laundry, stables, and barracks, I was running through the keep. Panic had risen in my chest, and a fear I’d never felt before filled my mind. Where the boys had gone to, I had no idea.
Logan met me as I took the stairs two at a time.
“Where away, Drake?” he called up to me.
“I can’t find the boys,” I shouted back over my shoulder. He must have read the tone of my voice or caught my fear, because he followed at a run. We arrived at almost the same time at their room.
Empty. Logan threw open his door and I went to mine. No boys. The look on his face was pure terror.
“Great gods, Drake, where are they?”
“I don’t know, but when I get hold of Joss, he’ll wish he’d kept better track of the time.” I was furious at him, mad that he’d frightened me so badly and had stretched me to my limits.
Back down the stairs.
“Where have you searched?” Logan demanded.
“Everywhere. Barracks. Stables. Tubs.” I shook my head. “Kitchen.”
“The keep is not that big.” He followed me through the door into the bailey.
We stopped. Ahead of us, the gates of the keep were open, the fields lay beyond, and the woods beyond them.
“No, they wouldn’t go out.” Logan shook his head, unbelieving that the boys would do anything so foolish.
I raced up the stairs to the catwalk, Logan behind me, to survey the fields. Logan grabbed a guard and shook him.
“Did you see my boy? Did he leave the keep?” His voice was nearly out of control, shaking with fear or rage, I couldn’t tell.
“No, no, my duke, I didn’t see them!” The guard tried to pull away. I had to pry Logan’s fingers from the man’s vest.
“If they are outside, we should be able to see them from here.” I turned and scanned the fields, but to my eyes, they were empty. But the area near the woods was too far for me to see clearly.
“Logan, my eyes are too weak to see to the woods. Do you see any sign of them?”
He leaned over the parapet, his eyes moving back and forth.
“I see something near the woods. There.” He pointed. “But I can’t tell what it is.” He shook his head.
I raced back down the stairs and out the keep’s gates. “Stay here!” I ordered.
Logan followed, bringing four men with him at a trot. I stopped and turned back to him. “Go back. The men and I will search. You need to stay in the keep.”
He knew I was right, but he swore, fists clenched, and turned back. He made it to the shadows of the walls, but refused to go in. It was close enough for me. I turned to the woods and urged the men to follow.
We ran until I thought my lungs would explode. The woods loomed.
“Tomas! Joss!” I called. The men spread out in the fields, calling for the boys.
“Here, my lord!” One of the men sent up a cry. I spun and raced to where he kneeled, my legs threatening to give way, my heart in my throat, praying that it wasn’t the boys.
It was Joss. He lay on his side, a small crumpled form. I fell to my knees and touched his shoulder. “Joss? Son?” My voice croaked in my tight throat. Blood ran from a wound on his head. He clutched a scrap of cloth in his hand.
“Search for Tomas.” I waved the men away. I inspected his wound, a deep cut just above his left eye; the blood had matted in his hair, but had stopped flowing.
He’d been here some time. I rolled him over and into my arms. He groaned and his eyes flickered. I wanted to weep for joy that he lived.
He looked up, his eyes straining to focus, and blinked. “Da?” he rasped.
My heart, if not my eyes, wept. “I’m here, Joss. What happened?”
“Save Tomas.” His voice was so low I had to hold him close to hear.
“Where is Tomas?”
“The men took him.”
Gods’ tears, I thought, not Weathers’ men. “How did you get so far from the castle?”
“Tomas saw something in the field. He followed it. I followed him, like you said. We couldn’t reach it. It moved away.”
It was easy to see what might have happened. The boys had been lured away, then attacked.
“Is Tomas hurt?”
“They took Tomas. The men took Tomas.” He shook his head, tears falling from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop them. I tried.” He sobbed and buried his face in my chest. I cradled him in my arms and stood. I’d never held him before, or hugged him to me. His body felt so small and light, as if he’d float away.
The men returned.
“I found signs of horses, my lord,” one of them offered.
“How many?” I asked.
“Four, at least. They waited in the wood, just there.” He turned and pointed.
“You’re sure?”
“Aye. There are four piles of dung beneath the trees where they left the animals.”
“How long ago?”
“Three, four hours, perhaps more, my lord. The dung has begun to harden.”
That was that; they had a half day’s start over us. I knew we’d have to ride hard to catch them, if we could.
They were gone and Tomas with them.
I turned back to the castle and began the long walk back. Each step I took I rehearsed what I’d say to Logan. How I’d break it to him.
There was no need. He saw us returning and ran to meet us, but stopped when he realized I carried only one boy. Mine. I watched his eyes scan the men, me, and Joss.
“Where?” was the only word he managed to say. All the color had drained from his face, and his hand shook as it rested on the hilt of his sword.
“Taken. Most likely Weathers.” T
here was no point in stretching it out. He had to know by now. Logan was no fool.
“Weathers? Great gods.” He fell to his knees. “He has my son? Those butchers of his have my boy?” Tears streamed down his face.
“I have to take Joss inside and get him seen by the healer. Then, we ride.”
He looked at me, I saw it. The envy in his eyes. I held my boy and his arms were empty. Not for a moment did I think he wished Joss gone, but that he merely wished for his son back.
He stood and turned. “Saddle my horse and Drake’s!” he shouted. Men scurried.
“No!” I called out. The men froze, their eyes darting between us, unsure whose orders to follow, their duke’s or their commander’s.
We’d reached the bailey, and I entered the castle. Someone had called for the healer, and he met us at the door.
“I’ll see to him, my lord.” He took Joss from my arms and brought him inside.
More than I wanted to breathe, I wanted to go with him, to hold Joss’s small hand, know that he lived, but there was work to be done.
“I go, with Peter and one other.” Peter had emerged from the barracks at the commotion. He nodded. I pointed to the soldier who’d found the tracks of the horses. With his tracking skills, he’d be a good man to have on our hunt. He gave me a sharp nod.
“I’m coming.” Logan stood, legs spread, hand on his sword, his eyes blazing.
“No, you’re not.”
“Get out of my way, Drake. That’s my boy, and I’m going for him.” He turned to the stables.
I grabbed his arm and spun him. His sword scraped out of his scabbard and lay at my throat. I froze. “You can’t go. Weathers can’t have both of you. If you die, there is no Marden, and no one will stop him from overrunning us.” I spoke as calmly as I could manage without my own voice shaking.
His eyes locked on mine. The entire yard fell silent as everyone watched.
“You have to stay here,” I said.
“I can’t lose him, Drake.” His chin wavered.
“I won’t let them get away. You have my oath. I’ll kill them all.”
The grooms came out of the stable leading my horse, Peter’s, and another horse. I walked to Horse and mounted. Peter leapt onto his mount, as did the other man.