Lady's Temptations: A Winter's Regency Menage

by Reed, Kristabel

  Her heart pounding at the touch, at the feel, and at the scent of her lover, Sarina forgot all about propriety and secretaries and the possibility of discovery. But then Liam pulled back, though did not step away from her.

  Prescott stood behind her, his body pressed against hers even as she heard the office door close. She didn’t have to turn to see him to know he, too, was more than pleased to see her. She felt it.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Sarina said with a grin. “I’d like to discuss a shipping contract with you from St. Kitts to India.”

  “And are we moving very exotic spices?” Prescott asked, his lips moving erotically against the back of her neck.

  “Of course,” Sarina said lightly, watching Liam as she spoke. His hand had moved from her cheek to skim the top of the black mourning gown she’d worn, teasing the swell of her breasts. Licking her lips, she tried to regain the playful, provocative flirtation, but only managed a moan.

  Then Liam’s mouth was back on hers, and she forgot everything from the feel of him kissing her, Prescott behind her. Surrendering, Sarina whimpered in protest when both men pulled back at nearly the same time.

  “This is a very pleasurable surprise,” Prescott said. “But what prompted this unexpected visit?”

  Liam’s hand returned to cup her cheek, and Sarina was embarrassed to realize how very much she wanted that hand back on her breast. “Is there anything wrong?”

  “No,” she whispered. Swallowing, she said in a stronger voice, “I simply wanted to see the two of you.”

  Turning, she grasped Prescott’s hand and pulled until he stood beside her. Smiling up at him, she wondered for a brief moment if he’d told Liam what had happened between them yesterday afternoon.

  Sarina dismissed it as unimportant. They’d promised her she had no reason to worry over jealousy between them, and she believed them. In her heart, in her body, she loved the both of them.

  “After our last meeting,” she said to Prescott, her other hand finding Liam’s, “you left me much to ponder.”

  Liam’s fingers caressed her cheek, the innocent touch somehow more intimate than she imagined. “And what have you been pondering?”

  “Marriage to Oliver,” she confessed. Liam didn’t flinch but waited, his gaze intense. “Perhaps there’s another way, or perhaps I simply won’t go through with it. Why is it my responsibility to save that estate? I’ve never even set foot on that property.”

  Liam’s warm laughter drifted over her, even as she felt Prescott press his lips to the back of her gloved hand. “And you never have to see that property. It isn’t yours,” Liam said. “You shouldn’t have to relinquish your own desires to correct another’s mistakes.”

  “I don’t want to relinquish my own desires,” she admitted softly.

  As if Liam had been waiting for her words, as if they had been a signal he’d looked for, he tugged her into his arms, his mouth crushing hers.

  A shudder of pure need raced through her, setting her skin afire and burning every modest thought from existence. Sarina forgot about Lydia and her cousins, about her current location and the very real possibility their secretary could return at any moment.

  All that mattered was Liam’s lips on hers, his fingers on her breasts, Prescott’s mouth across her shoulders, his hands on her hips. Sarina did spare a thought to touch—she desperately wanted to take her time, to explore her lovers’ bodies, to know them as intimately as they knew hers. But then her hands held Liam close, her nails scraping lightly over the back of his neck, and she reveled in the shudder of desire, his moan of need.

  Liam turned and walked her backward toward the desk, and sat her atop it. Flushed, her heart pounding and feeling every bit the fallen woman she was and delighting in it, Sarina struggled to find the words she needed. She’d wanted Prescott yesterday morning, but it hadn’t stopped her from also wanting Liam.

  Today, now, she didn’t only want Liam—she wanted both men. Wanted to feel the deliciously wicked sensation of them filling her, of the men she loved within her body. Of the intense pleasure, the piercing desire as she found completion while they moved within her.

  “Liam,” she moaned. His hands bunched up her skirts, fingers dancing over her already slick folds. Sarina shuddered but kept her eyes open, seeking out Prescott even as she tugged Liam closer.

  She felt utterly shameless as she embraced her lovers.

  Prescott, his trousers already undone to reveal his hard manhood, moved behind her. Sarina itched to touch him, to feel his hardness beneath her fingertips. Her hand brushed down Liam’s trousers; she felt his own arousal, and words escaped her.

  She whimpered again, wrapped her silk-clad legs around Liam’s waist, and pulled him to her. Sarina didn’t care if it was wanton, completely scandalous, for the three of them to even be in this room, let alone engaging in such pleasurable activities. But she needed them.

  Liam picked her up, held her against him and she moved, felt her body respond to his arousal. He reversed their positions, now sitting on his desk, even as he struggled with his trousers one-handed. The fingers of his other hand slipped along her core, his fingers just brushing her entrance.

  “Hush.” Liam’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her. He kissed her, a hard press of his lips, then moved back to finally free his arousal. “You can’t make a sound, Sarina.”

  Dazed, she nodded down at him. But then Prescott pressed against her derrière and she cried out. Sarina pressed the back of her gloved hand to her mouth, muffling her moans. Prescott pushed her against Liam and she braced over him, her mouth on his, hard and hungry as his fingers continued to tease and torment her until she thought she’d explode.

  In one smooth thrust, Prescott entered her. Just in time, Sarina remembered to muffle her cry against Liam’s shoulder, biting hard into the fabric. One of his hands tangled in her hair, his mouth hard on hers even as she pushed back against Prescott. As quickly as he’d entered her, Prescott withdrew. He held her skirts up, spread her wide, and slowly, oh so slowly, entered her from behind.

  Before she had time to adjust to such pleasure, Liam took her hand and held it over his arousal. Sarina moaned, hating the glove covering her skin; she wanted to feel him, but then they were guiding him into her. The wave of pleasure crashed over her, fire and light and sound, but all Sarina knew was Liam and Prescott. Liam’s fingers continued to brush over her core, harder now over a bundle of nerves that never let her pleasure wane, only building it higher and higher.

  Prescott pulled her hard against his chest, his hands freeing her breasts to tug hard on her already sensitive nipples.

  Before she realized it, Sarina was moaning their names in pleasure, just barely remembering to stop the sounds with her gloved hand. She opened her eyes and gazed down at Prescott’s hands over her breasts, of Liam laid out before her, and moved harder. Faster.

  The movements felt natural, the feel of her lovers the only thing she knew. Liam’s dark gaze met hers and his fingers pressed hard to her. Sarina exploded into another orgasm, her hand doing little to muffle her sounds of pleasure. Behind her she felt Prescott move harder, faster, his thrusts shorter as he jerked within her.

  Her breasts aching and body still shuddering, Sarina was desperate to feel their release. Prescott bit into her shoulder as he climaxed, her name muffled even as Liam’s hands gripped her hips hard and moved her faster over him. In a few short strokes, he too climaxed, his face a mask of pleasure, his jaw clamped shut so as not to make a sound.

  Exhausted, her body humming from nearly unimaginable gratification, Sarina sighed and slumped against Liam’s chest. She felt Prescott pull out of her, move away, and heard the sound of him righting his clothing.

  She was entirely too sated to worry about the state of her clothes, hair, or modesty to do more than kiss Liam lazily and reach for Prescott.

  Chapter Eleven

  There was no mirror in the office, so Sarina made use of the window, only now noticing the off
ices occupied the second floor. In her reflection, she saw her cheeks flush—anyone could have seen them, seen her over Liam, Prescott behind her. Swallowing hard, she jabbed the remaining pins into the bun Prescott helped her recreate.

  With one last look at the people moving below, she hastily moved from the window and potentially prying eyes.

  Though the offices were chilly, she’d finally taken her gloves off in order to better adjust her cloak. Her fingers brushed the sensitive area between throat and shoulder and she shuddered. Prescott had marked her there. Teeth on delicate skin that sent an illicit thrill of need through her even now, his tongue on the bite, mouth soothing the small, erotic pain.

  Sarina adjusted the heavy wool cloak more firmly around her shoulders and hoped to hide the passion bite from the outside world. But she loved it—oh, she loved that mark. She wanted more from Prescott, from Liam; she was theirs, and nothing that happened in her future could ever change that.

  She didn’t want to change that.

  She loved the small marks on her body, the private brands from her lovers.

  Sarina took a deep breath that did nothing to calm her. The office smelled of sex and pleasure and she shuddered at the memory, at the need even now pulsing through her. With a deliberateness that did little to calm her racing thoughts, she tugged her gloves back on and turned to her men.

  “We may have to marry soon,” Prescott said softly, directly behind to her.

  She tried to turn and face him, but his fingers trailed over her shoulders, down the slim column of her throat, over the mark. Sarina shivered and tilted her head, her eyes seeking Liam, who appeared in front of her.

  Prescott wrapped his arms around her and splayed his hands over her belly. Liam stood before her and took her gloved hands, his eyes intent on hers. The realization jolted her, though neither man said the actual words. Sarina expected panic, but though her heart flipped at the news, it wasn’t in alarm.

  “And I want to,” Sarina admitted, another flush warming her. “But I also want to help Oliver. Perhaps there is some way to assist him once we’re married. A loan, perhaps,” she ventured then hurried to add, “from my estate of course.”

  She didn’t phrase her words as a question, though it was implied. She couldn’t do anything with her inheritance without her husband’s permission, whether she married Liam or Prescott.

  “If you wish to loan him your entire fortune, that is completely up to you,” Liam said. He stepped back, and Prescott straightened and also moved away from her. “We can take care of anything you may need for the rest of your life.”

  Grateful, she nodded and whispered, “Thank you.”

  Sarina licked her lips and struggled to put into words the sense of duty—and, yes, even friendship, she felt for Oliver. More than that, love and gratitude nearly overwhelmed her for Liam and Prescott. Her plan was extravagant, yes. Their acceptance of that plan was nearly unheard of and she had no words to adequately describe what she felt over their easy agreement.

  In lieu of words, Sarina pressed hard against Prescott, her mouth eager on his one final time. He tasted of wine and something she couldn’t identify. Breaking the kiss and breathing heavily, Sarina turned to Liam.

  His hands cupped her face, made her feel protected and loved. He tasted different from Prescott, and she tentatively swept her tongue against his, desperate to commit that flavor to memory. Once more pulling back, Sarina cleared her throat and took a moment.

  The Kingsnorth fire was devastating in so many ways, but she knew that if it hadn’t been for the fire, she’d never have given in to Liam and Prescott. Never have admitted she wanted them as well as loved them. And they, the three of them, might never have realized they could have each other as well.

  She licked her lips, tasting both men there.

  From the beginning, they’d intrigued her. At first they’d visited to comfort her, but then it had changed, turned into the three of them. Maybe she should’ve realized it’d be impossible to choose between the men. But they had such fun together; they made her laugh and, privately, they both made her want things she hadn’t truly understood until Kingsnorth.

  Her confusion over them, her fears over ruining their friendship, of choosing, now seemed so paltry. Insignificant. But that had been before the fire. Now, now that she’d had them, there was little that could stop her from keeping them.

  This relationship, their relationship, could conceivably work. And Sarina vowed to do everything in her power to make it so.

  She looked from Liam to Prescott, noting their heated gazes. How was she ever going to keep this secret? Sarina licked her lips again and wondered how her pragmatism could possibly help her in this situation.

  “I should go,” she admitted quietly. With one final look at them, she eased open the door and walked out.

  Her head held high, she thankfully didn’t see their secretary at his desk. Continuing down the steps, she tried to observe others’ looks at her, but everyone seemed too busy racing around with their own business to bother with her. She moved quickly, retracing her steps until she was far away from the docks.

  Even with distance, her heart still pounded from her illicit afternoon, and Sarina couldn’t stop the smile that curved her lips. She truly needed to get a better handle on herself, or everyone would know what she’d been up to.

  Sarina found Lydia at the tea shoppe. Though she desperately needed a cup of tea to warm her fingers and ease the tension tangling with pleasure, she nodded to her maid and they climbed into her carriage. The ride wasn’t nearly long enough to gather her composure, but if Lydia noticed anything amiss, the girl kept quiet, for which Sarina was profoundly grateful.

  Once inside the warmth of her foyer, Sarina listened as McGann, the butler, informed her that Henrietta and Maryanne had gone out and their respective husbands were at their clubs. Sarina nodded at the news, relieved she didn’t need to cope with their barrage of questions so soon after leaving her lovers.

  She wanted a respite upstairs. But McGann held out the silver tray with a single note atop. “Lord Hawksmoor came by while you were out, ma’am. He left this for you.”

  Sarina nodded to McGann and took the note, not bothering to open it.

  At the top of the staircase, Sarina looked down the west wing which her cousins currently occupied and turned to the east. She’d never been happier that she could offer her cousins rooms in her townhouse, or that her father had left her a townhouse, than she was now. Sarina needed the privacy of her own suite and wanted no interruptions.

  Pushing open the doors to her sitting room, Sarina walked to the window. Her writing desk sat by the window to allow the most light, but she had no desire to shift through the small pile of correspondence awaiting her reply. She added the unread note from Oliver to the pile.

  She needed to think.

  Tapping her fingers on the leather top, she tried to organize her thoughts. She hadn’t been herself these last days. Not since she saw them at the fair, only a few days ago, dressed in their Viking costumes.

  The breathless anticipation of looking for them and finally seeing them both. The forbidden bolt of desire that drew her forward even as she knew it was wrong. But Sarina wanted them, wanted both men and hadn’t cared what society said about her passion.

  She’d wanted to feel that thrill move through her. The way they looked at her had her wanting more and when she’d finally had them, when they’d finally all been together, it was the most arousing thing she’d ever known. More than the titillating stories she and her friends had once smuggled into their rooms, being with the men she loved and wanted was indescribable.

  Her practical side said it was simply a matter of emotion. But this new side to her, this adventurous and passionate woman Sarina discovered, wanted more. She wanted to feel her lovers and know what made them mindless with passion.

  Aroused from the memory, her breath short and skin pricking with need, Sarina tried to banish the memories and refocus on what matt
ered at this moment. But all she could think of was Liam’s hands and Prescott’s mouth on her. Both of them moving within her all too willing body.

  She shuddered, tried to clamp down on a whimper but wasn’t successful.

  Her hands fisted in the black crepe of her gown, Sarina sought every ounce of her sensible side. She needed to concentrate on the future, if there ever was to be one.

  After the risk she took today, going to their offices and wantonly enjoying their newfound ménage, she knew she had to return to her senses. If this were to work, she needed to be just as practical, if not more so, than she ever had been.

  The only way to truly know this could work, work and not ruin all of them, would be with perfectly precise planning.

  Prescott had been the one to court her, had been the one to make his intentions clear. Where did that leave Liam? Once married, if she continued to allow her cousins to stay in her townhouse while they were all in London, how would the three of them manage?

  Sarina didn’t like the thought of forcing Liam elsewhere, but knew neither Henrietta nor Maryanne could possibly understand.

  No, once she and Prescott married, her cousins would have to rent a large townhouse closer to town or stay in Henrietta’s smaller townhouse. She couldn’t conceivably allow them to stay here. Sarina supposed, as Prescott’s closest friend, Liam could stay. But she didn’t want her lover banished to the far end of the house, sneaking down to their rooms so the three of them could be together.

  No, her cousins needed to find other accommodations. End of story.

  Plus, she’d heard of, if never actually seen, homes with secret doors and passages between rooms. Scandalous stories about mistresses using the passages for illicit rendezvous sprang to mind—but those stories had been the giggling gossip of her friends. So far as Sarina knew, none of them had ever seen such a passage.

  Prescott and Liam would know more of such things, and she’d be certain to ask them as to the feasibility of installation.