The Accidental Bride (Black Lace)

by Portia Da Costa

  But no! No! There had to be pleasure for her too, or his own release would be empty.

  The lounger creaked ominously as they rocked against it, but still held up. John reached around beneath Lizzie’s smooth belly, his fingers zeroing in on her pussy, wiggling in amongst the soft dark hair and finding her clit. He jerked harder, using the momentum of his body to work for him and for her too, a gallop of pressure and friction, cock and fingers, heart and soul.

  ‘Yes! Yes!’ he chanted, pretty words lost in the intensity. But he didn’t have to flatter or sweet-talk her, or even dirty-talk her, because she knew he cared for her. For all her talk about not being able to read him, he was certain that she could.

  And he’d praise her to the skies when he got his mind back, afterwards.

  Climax barely took a few moments. While molten fire seared its way down his spine and enveloped him, his cock jerked and bucked, disgorging semen onto her rosy pink bottom in haphazard spurts.

  ‘Lizzie … Lizzie,’ he crooned, brain gone, functioning on auto.

  But still, love actuated his fingers. Love and pure instinct. He couldn’t think, but he could still rub her, still caress her, and he almost sobbed as she cried out his name, coming too.

  Lizzie prised John’s hand out from beneath her. It must be going to sleep with their combined weight pressed upon his wrist. She smiled when John wiggled his fingers to stir the circulation, and then straightened up, behind her. Liberated, she knelt up too.

  His mouth settled on her shoulder. A soft kiss, almost a salute.

  ‘Are you OK, sweetheart?’ His breath ruffled her hair.

  Was she all right? Hell yes! Even the hot glow in her spanked bottom was already morphing towards pleasant heat, and the sweet memory of submission, rather than out and out pain. Obviously it’d be a bit sore when she sat on it, or accidentally knocked against something, but John was so skilled, with both hand and implement, that he’d never once hurt her in a bad way.

  ‘I’m fine … I’m good.’ She reached around and touched herself. Yes, sore, but not agonising. ‘A bit sticky, for obvious reasons, but otherwise, nothing that won’t fade sooner or later.’ She gave him a sultry look over her shoulder. ‘And the orgasm was very nice indeed. Very nice.’

  ‘Good.’ He looped his arms around her belly and she felt his cock against her bottom again, quiescent against the glow. Not that it was likely to stay that way for long, knowing John. He had a young man’s recovery powers, and an almost infinite appetite for pleasure. ‘Maybe we should both cool off in the pool again?’

  He gave her a brisk kiss on the side of her neck, then stood up behind her, urging her up too. As she turned to him, he peeled his swimming trunks all the way down and stepped out of them, lifting his sandy eyebrows at her provocatively as he straightened up and kicked the garment away.

  ‘Well, we’ve got the place to ourselves. Let’s swim in the buff, eh?’

  But what if someone called? Some unexpected visitor. A tradesman or something?

  Still she grinned, though, and reached down to where her suit was still bunched around her thighs.

  ‘Let me,’ said John, sinking down gracefully and easing the suit down her legs, then letting her step out of it as she leant on his shoulder for balance.

  It seemed uniquely piquant to be standing naked here, in the daylight, even in this, their own private space. They’d swum naked in France, in the villa’s pool, and visiting a plage privée, but this was different, the north of England, the place where they conducted their everyday lives.

  John smiled again, his eyes telling her he understood how it seemed to her. Reaching for her hand, he kissed it, then touched her face, sweeping her still damp hair back from her brow.

  ‘Dive … or drop in?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, drop in, I think … with this.’ She brushed her fingers against her simmering bottom, the jolt of contact creating a tiny new plume of nascent desire.

  John led her forward and they slid smoothly into the pool, together. The water was divinely cool against her spanking, and she looked up at the blue sky through the translucent UV-filtering roof over the pool. She’d thought the villa in the south of France had been paradise, but this, their home, was Shangri-La.

  Anywhere with John was the perfect place to be. Despite complications, despite issues, anywhere with him was home. Was right.

  They trod water for a while, lazily flapping arms and legs, in just sufficient movement to keep them afloat. Lizzie closed her eyes, focusing on the contrast between different degrees of temperature. The gentle, moderate blood heat of the pool; the ebbing fires in her bottom. She imagined John, floating in the same way, eyes closed, and then got a surprise when she opened her eyes and found him watching her, speculation in his gaze.

  ‘Ah, the secret,’ she said. ‘I promised I’d tell you, didn’t I?’

  He beamed. ‘You did. You told me I’d have to beat it out of you, and I fulfilled my part of the bargain.’

  Drawing in a deep breath, Lizzie stroked her way closer to the side of the pool, and secured a hold on the lipped edge. This was going to take some telling, even though she suspected that John would find the news a pleasant if ironic surprise.

  ‘I’m not quite sure where to start with this … But you know I mentioned that Brent had a new boyfriend?’ Beside her, also holding lightly on to the lipped edge, John nodded. ‘And you mentioned to me that your brother Tom had a new man in his life too?’

  John blinked, then laughed softly.

  ‘Well, fuck me!’

  ‘I would if we had a condom handy.’

  John aimed a little splash her way. ‘Yes, that, obviously. But really, Brent and Tom? How on earth did that come about?’ He smiled and moved forward, clearly eager for the details. ‘I had no idea they’d ever even met.’

  He’s pleased. He’s really pleased.

  Lizzie wondered why she’d had any qualms about telling him. Brent’s life was Brent’s life, and Tom’s life was Tom’s life, and there was no reason why John shouldn’t consider Brent an entirely suitable man for his brother.

  ‘They actually met long before you and I ever did, believe it or not.’

  As they floated lazily in the water, Lizzie recounted the story as Brent had told it to her. The one-night stand. The chance meeting in the Waverley. The realisation by both men that they wanted more.

  John was silent for a moment when the story was done, and Lizzie felt a pang of disquiet, only to have it banished when he grinned broadly.

  ‘Well, I never would have predicted this one, I must say, but I wish the pair of them well. Brent’s been through the mill, and Tom’s taken some serious shit from the family over his sexuality, and stood up to them. I’m happy they’ve found each other again.’

  Lizzie surged forward through the water and hugged him and kissed him. The resulting commotion unsettled their buoyancy and they both ended up sinking beneath the water, only to burst up again, laughing and spluttering.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re pleased,’ she said, panting and wiping water out of her eyes. ‘Brent’s a good man … and your brother sounds lovely. I’m happy they’ve found each other too.’

  ‘Everyone’s a winner!’ announced John roundly. ‘Shall we get out of the water now, dry off, and then celebrate in absentia that your friend and my brother have got together? With another of your cocktails or maybe a bottle of Champagne?’ With a grin on his face, he moved towards her, gliding smoothly through the water, and then kissed her on the lips. ‘And some condoms, perhaps?’ he added, winking outrageously.

  ‘Well, that’s a bit weird, Mr Smith,’ she shot back, but couldn’t help grinning back at him. How would she keep a straight face when she next saw Brent, knowing that she’d toasted him getting a new boyfriend with Champagne … and a shag?

  ‘Ah, but as you know full well, sweetie, I’m a very weird man.’

  ‘True. But that’s a good idea, the Champagne. And the other thing.’

  ‘Mm … the
other thing,’ said John, giving her a quick, splashy kiss, then hefting himself easily from the pool, powered by the strength in his arms. ‘Do you think you can manage the other thing, with a tingling red bottom?’ Turning and reaching down for her, he hoisted her out effortlessly too.

  Standing naked on the deck, looking into his face, Lizzie winked. ‘I’ll manage somehow. There isn’t much on the face of this sweet earth that would keep me from the other thing with you, boss man.’

  ‘I didn’t think so,’ said John, stealing another kiss.

  Later, lying face down on the bed, and enjoying the afterglow of quite a lot of the other thing, Lizzie gazed at John, lying beside her.

  Was he asleep? His eyes were closed. He looked relaxed. They’d made love a couple of times since the pool. First, with John sitting on the bench in the changing cabana downstairs, and most recently here in bed, with Lizzie on top, riding him furiously. Both times, he’d been scrupulously careful to avoid stirring up the furore in her spanked bottom, although now it was barely more than a simmering, nostalgic glow.

  The flat screen television on the far wall was on, but with the sound low, and neither of them had really been watching it for a while. Twisting, Lizzie reached for the remote and snapped it off, having no interest in the rather lurid true crime show.

  ‘I was listening to that.’ John smiled, but didn’t open his eyes. Lying naked against the pale bedding, he looked like a debauched angel, his blond curls awry, his body gleaming. Lizzie eyed his cock. It was currently somnolent, but she knew it would barely take more than her blowing on it to make it start to rise, all over again.

  ‘No you weren’t.’

  ‘All right. I wasn’t.’ His blue eyes snapped open and he rolled onto his side and laid his hand possessively on the small of her back. A swirl of desire seemed to rouse beneath his touch.

  ‘You weren’t sleeping, though, were you?’ she prompted.

  ‘Not really.’ His thumb moved over her skin. ‘But dozing a little, I think. We’re getting better on that score now, aren’t we?’ He smiled at her, a little, tentative, strangely vulnerable smile.

  ‘Yes, I think we are. We’ll get there, lover, I know we will … One of these days … or nights. It’ll happen when we hardly realise it. We’ll both wake up in the morning like a perfectly normal couple who’ve slept the night together.’ She rolled onto her side, feeling a twinge or two from her punished bottom, but relaxing into the sensations, embracing them. Catching John’s hand as it slid from her flank, she kissed his fingers.

  ‘Not too normal,’ he said with a twinkling grin, his blue eyes fiery.

  ‘Perish the thought,’ agreed Lizzie.

  ‘I tell you one normal thing we might do,’ John said, drawing his hand from her mouth, and bringing her hand to his for a reciprocating kiss. ‘We could have Brent and Tom over for a meal next weekend, perhaps. Maybe make a bit of an afternoon of it? A pool party or whatever? Would you like that?’

  Lizzie considered the notion. On one hand, it would be fab, like the old days, hanging out with Brent. But on the other, ooh, entertaining, scary. Especially having to put on a good show for her lover’s brother. A brother who still lived in a stately home – well, at least some of the time – and who, unlike his sibling, hadn’t entirely abandoned his aristocratic heritage.

  John laughed softly. ‘Well, I can tell from the hesitation that you’ve got qualms. But you shouldn’t have them. Tom won’t bite. He’s the sort of person nobody ever feels nervous with … and I can’t imagine how he could possibly fail to adore you on sight!’

  ‘Reports of my adorableness have been greatly exaggerated. Especially by horny old goats who are banging me.’

  John shook his head. ‘You are adorable. And I won’t hear otherwise,’ he said firmly, assuming a mock reproving tone. ‘And even though we two brothers mostly admire the desirable qualities in different sexes, Tom’s a man of discerning taste in beauty and character, just like I am.’

  ‘Well, if he’s as daft as you are, I’m sure he and I will get on like a house on fire.’

  Lunging forward, John cupped her face and kissed her hard, a stern, masterly kiss.

  ‘If I hadn’t already spanked that lush bottom once today, I’d give it another going over. You really are the most provoking, smart-mouthed woman.’ Not allowing her to get a word of answer in, he kissed her fiercely again.

  After a tussle, they broke apart, and brushing her hair from her face, John said, ‘Seriously, Lizzie, there’s nothing to worry about. My brother is a very sweet guy, and he’s far easier to get along with than I am. He’s got a sense of humour, and before you say anything, he’s not in the least bit stuck up. He cares even less about having a title and all that than I do. He does love Montcalm, and the family, despite the obnoxious way the old man’s treated him in the past, but he’s just an ordinary bloke in a lot of ways. I think you’ll really like him.’

  ‘If he’s anything like you, I know I’ll like him.’

  It was the simple truth, despite her nerves. John’s face glowed as he stared at her, strangely befuddled, as if she wasn’t the only one unsure of herself and with doubts about her desirability and suitability to be loved.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said softly. ‘And you will like him. Let’s fix something up for next weekend, eh? We could have a buffet. A barbie, even. Very casual, very easy, no ceremony. We could all just slop about in shorts and bathing suits, and eat too much and drink too much. Brent and Tom could stay over … We’ve got masses of room.’ He leant forward, very intent. ‘And remember, you don’t have to do anything at all but enjoy yourself. The Thursgoods will be here to do all the cooking and hospitality stuff. You don’t have to lift a finger, sweetheart.’

  Despite her initial qualms, Lizzie felt a sudden excitement. Eagerness. She’d missed seeing Brent every day. She wanted to know how he was getting on with this man he so obviously cared about. And she was curious about John’s brother.

  But there was one thing that still bothered her.

  ‘Could we invite Shelley and Sholto to this beach blanket barbecue extravaganza too? It doesn’t seem fair to leave Shell out of this, somehow, and if she comes, I want her to know that her bloke is welcome too.’

  ‘Of course, you ninny! The more the merrier!’ John reached over and tousled her hair playfully. ‘This is your home, love. It’s yours to invite whoever you want to. Your friends are my friends now, you know that.’

  He made it sound so easy. Perhaps it was easy? Although there were friends and people in his life that she would still be anxious about for a long time yet, perhaps for ever.

  No, don’t go there. Don’t think about her. Or his parents. Live for the moment!

  John’s eyes narrowed, as if he’d sensed the thought, and he moved closer, embracing her, silently reassuring. The warmth of his body, and the waft of his breath against her neck, renewed her confidence.

  ‘So, who’s going to invite whom? Shall I invite Brent and tell him to bring his boyfriend?’ She grinned at him as they drew apart. ‘Or will you invite Tom and tell him to bring his boyfriend?’

  John sat up, and reached for his phone on the bedside table. ‘What say I invite Tom and Brent, and you invite Shelley and her friend Sholto?’

  ‘What, now?’

  ‘No time like the moment.’ John was already scrolling through his address book. ‘And it gives them time to clear their calendars.’

  Lizzie burst out laughing. ‘Well, I’m not sure Shell has much of a calendar to clear, Mr Business Tycoon Man … But you’re right. She and Sholto both do bar work. At your Waverley Metro, I might add. So it’d be handy for them to have time to rearrange shifts if they need to.’

  John waggled his eyebrows at her as if to say, ‘Of course I’m right!’ while his phone’s call tone beeped.

  ‘Hey, brother of mine, how do you fancy a pool party at Dalethwaite Manor next weekend? I understand your new boyfriend is a friend of my girlfriend, you sly devil. I think it’s abo
ut time we all got together for the formal introductions and whatever. What do you say?’

  John’s instant, beaming grin said the reaction was positive.

  10

  Brent and Tom

  ‘So … we’re invited to a party,’ said Tom Wyngarde Smith, beaming as he set his phone on the bedside table. ‘Should be interesting. I’m really looking forward to meeting this incredible woman who both my brother and my boyfriend constantly rave about.’

  Brent sat up too, not quite sure how he felt about the prospect of the weekend to come. He loved Lizzie. He always would. But he loved Tom too. He couldn’t imagine how either one of them could not like the other, really, but life was weird sometimes, and you never knew what could happen. Especially things like ending up in bed, at the Waverley Grange Hotel, on a late Saturday afternoon, with a man you once had a one-night stand with – who also turned out to be your best friend’s boyfriend’s brother!

  Tom had picked Brent up from the garden centre in his rather manky old Porsche at the end of his shift, and whisked him away here to the Waverley. The plan had been to have a healthy walk in the grounds, then early dinner, then bed. But somehow that had morphed into bed first, something Brent didn’t mind in the least.

  ‘You’ll like Lizzie,’ he said, studying Tom’s handsome face. ‘Really. She’s kind and fun and very intelligent, though she plays it down. And she’s astonishingly beautiful, something else she won’t believe when you try to convince her of it.’

  Tom pursed his lips, those firm, shapely lips that were so quick to curve in a generous smile. Was he worried? Over Lizzie? Bloody hell, was he jealous? It seemed incomprehensible, and yet, Brent considered his own insecurities. The ones he’d always had, and the new ones, out and about with Tom, who was every inch a stunner in his own way as his elder brother was.