by Josie Dennis
Henry laughed. “Ah, I have missed you.” He strolled about the room, eyeing her discarded needlework. “Have you not made a pretty little something for me, Cathy?” He slid his gaze to Edward’s. “Or for Edward?”
“I made something for each of you,” she admitted.
Edward’s gaze heated then and he smiled. “Always such a generous and thoughtful girl.”
Something in his tone made her body flush hot head to toe.
She found Henry’s eyes fixed on her bodice before he once more smiled. “We have missed you.”
She couldn’t help it. She pouted. “Every Season you are gone. And every August you come back with such words.”
Henry stepped closer, the familiar and intoxicating scent of him filling her senses. “Do you wish us to stay in Yorkshire, Cathy?” His voice held a husky note that sent shivers skittering over her flesh.
Edward was on her other side now, close enough that she could smell him as well. “Perhaps we could work out an arrangement that would allow us to spend as much time together as we all desire.”
Smooth as honey, his voice enhanced the impact of Henry’s. They were both staring at her lips, which suddenly felt swollen and tingling. That day at the lake rushed back to her, and she thought for one mad moment that they would kiss her there in the parlor!
In the next instant, they each stepped back. At last she could breathe, but oh how tight her stays seemed.
“Have you a beau here in the country?” Henry asked.
“A man in the village who wishes to make you his forever?” Edward added.
“No!” She took another breath. “There is no one in bloody Highmoor. The two of you know that I spend my time in limited company.”
They exchanged a glance of some import, though she could not ascertain its meaning.
“What is that look?” she asked. “The two of you have always done that, you know.”
Edward arched a golden brow. “Have we?”
Henry laughed. “We were unaware.”
She snorted. “I daresay neither one of you are ever unaware of anything.”
They smiled at each other now, bright expressions that caused her heart to double its beat.
“There is to be an assembly in the village tomorrow,” Henry said. “I am sure you heard of it?”
“I have heard of little else, since nothing of import ever happens here.”
“There is that spirit,” Edward said. “I take it you are without escort?”
She folded her arms. “As is normally the case.”
“No chaperone?” Henry asked.
“I am twenty-one years old now, Henry. I daresay I have no need of one.”
“What of propriety?” Edward asked.
She considered his question. “The matrons in the village usually watch closely, ready to step in on my behalf should a gentleman appear too…familiar with me.”
Henry gave a nod. “As they should. You are not meant for any of them.”
His words sounded so final, as if he alone knew her fate. No, not Henry alone. Edward wore that same determined expression.
“What are the two of you about?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“We shall serve as escort,” Edward said with a playful bow.
“You shall dance with none other than the two of us,” Henry put in.
“I…” She swallowed.
The room was suddenly stifling. The sun that had been so warm and inviting moments before was now unbearably hot. They took her hands again, standing so very close.
“Will you keep yourself only to us?” Edward asked.
How could she refuse? The two of them were the only gentlemen for whom she had any regard. “Of course.”
Henry let out a breath. “It is done.”
She blinked, unable to grasp what he truly meant by those words. “Henry, what are you—”
“Lord, it is hot today,” he cut in, pulling at his cravat.
“Indeed.” Edward dipped his head. “I fear the lake calls to us, Cathy.”
Immediately her mind filled with the image of the two of them naked in the water. “The lake,” she repeated.
“A swim is just the thing.” Henry bowed to her. “Until tomorrow.”
Edward did likewise, and they left her. The parlor seemed sucked of its very life, the colors dim and the air still. Fanning herself, she settled on the chair beside the window. The lake beckoned, Edward had said. She gazed jealously at the water in the distance, sparkling and winking at her as if to boast. Would that she could see them swim again. Kiss them again. How could she want both of them so desperately?
“I am surely a wanton,” she murmured.
* * * *
“You heard her, Edward,” Henry said as he stripped. “She is to keep herself to us.”
“For the dance,” Edward corrected. “She had no notion of what we were truly asking.”
Henry shrugged. “No matter. It was obvious in all her looks that she wants us.”
“I daresay she is unsure of what she wants, precisely.”
Naked now, Henry stretched. The dappled shade beneath the trees here was delightful on his skin, and he knew the water would be blessedly chilled. His body was on fire right now. “Then it is up to us to illuminate the subject for her.”
Edward shed the last of his clothing and began to wade into the water, hissing as the cold struck him. “This should ease my cock.”
Henry laughed, seeing Edward was as hard as he himself had been since touching Cathy’s hand. Henry barreled into the lake, letting out a shout before dunking beneath the water. When he surfaced, Edward was still inching his way.
“Good God, Edward. Just jump in.”
Edward appeared to consider his suggestion then dropped backwards into the water. He came up laughing, splashing toward Henry. “Satisfied?”
“Hardly.” Henry leaned back and spread his arms, his upper body floating as his feet now barely touched the bottom. “I will not be satisfied until we both have her.”
They both fell silent in their musings. Raised like brothers, they’d come into manhood the same summer. The first time Edward suggested they share a wench, when they were both eighteen years of age, Henry had been hesitant. Surprisingly, watching Edward fuck the chit had given Henry almost as much pleasure as when he took his place with her. And in the eight years since, they’d shared their sexual exploits in either word or deed.
“Did you see her face, Henry?”
“Cathy has grown more beautiful,” Henry said. “All that lovely dark hair. I can easily picture her with it down around her shoulders.”
“Those eyes. Like the lake on a stormy day.”
“Hell, her lips,” Henry put in. “I swear they have gotten fuller. It was all I could do to keep from kissing her.”
“It has been too long.” Edward breathed in. “What of her scent? Fresh like heather.”
“I smelled her arousal, as well. It was faint, but evident. She wants us.” Henry began to stroke himself. “What I wouldn’t give to have her saucy mouth on my cock at this very moment.”
“Her body, Henry.” Edward groaned as he grasped his own shaft. “Her breasts. So full and plump, even beneath that blasted fichu. What do you imagine her nipples look like? Rosy and pink like her lips?”
“Darker, I think.” Henry pulled on his cock, closing his eyes. “And her pussy. God, what of her pussy? More of that dark hair, curled and damp and soft.”
“It will be so tender,” Edward said, his voice harsh. “So sweet and tight.”
“And hot,” Henry bit out. “Scorching hot.”
“What of that first time?” Edward let out a groan. “Can you imagine how incredible that will be?”
“Who?” Henry sucked in a breath. “Who shall take her maidenhead?”
Edward grew quiet, save for the groans he made. Henry echoed the sounds, driving himself closer to the brink.
“You,” Edward gasped. “If you let me taste her pussy first, you can be
the first to take her.”
Henry made a sound of assent, imaging Edward’s face buried in Cathy’s pussy, his tongue stabbing deep as she sobbed her release.
“You will tell me what she tastes like,” he growled. “Lick her lips and suck her clit until she cries out our names. Make her come so hard she will be flooded with juices and primed for my taking.” And take her he would. Slowly at first, then fucking her so hard and so deep she would remember that next climax for days.
“Yes,” Edward hissed. “I can picture it, Henry. Her pussy pulling your cock deep inside as she crests on the brink of pleasure. Fuck her hard. Tell me everything you feel as she begins to squeeze your cock tight.”
They both began to come. Great tremors shook Henry’s body, his balls tight as he arched back in the water, groaning Cathy’s name as he lost himself. He heard Edward’s shout of pleasure a scant moment later.
“I haven’t come so hard in years, and never from the stroke of my own hand.” Catching his breath at last, Henry glanced at Edward. A lopsided grin curled his usually patrician mouth, and Henry barked out a laugh. “I haven’t seen that look on your face since that first time, either.”
Edward ducked beneath the water, coming up to sweep his hair back from his face. “She is the one.”
Henry nodded. “Come.” He straightened in the water. “Race me across the lake.”
Edward sprang up and began to swim, long strokes that pulled him through the water. Henry hurried to join him, certain that they would gain the opposite bank at nearly the same moment.
They did, of course, do everything together.
Chapter 3
The assembly hall was full. Henry and Edward were not the only gentry present, though they were the most compelling in Cathy’s opinion. Clad in formal attire, they rivaled even her mind’s musings over their nakedness in the lake. She pulled in a shaky breath. Their sudden reappearance in her life had sent her imagination into a spin. Last night she’d envisioned the two of them once more, attentive and amorous to her alone.
In her dream Edward taught her a particularly challenging piece on the pianoforte, sitting closer by inches on the bench until he bent her back over the instrument and spread her legs, touching her…there. His fingers played her with dexterity, wringing a moan out of her. Henry stood watching, looking deep in her eyes before leaning down and placing that lovely mouth of his on hers. Soon their hands were on her breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples until she cried out, jarring herself out of sleep. She’d placed her hand on the wet, throbbing flesh between her legs, closing her eyes as she imagined the two of them touching her as she attempted to ease the ache.
She’d been unable to, to her utter frustration. And tonight, being so close to them, in the dance and out of it, was proving too much to bear. The promise in their eyes brought back her nighttime wanderings. Oh, would they never kiss her again?
“It’s good to have the gentlemen back among us.”
Cathy started then turned to Mrs. Middleton. A matron who seemed to take the care of Highmoor in her own hands, she had always been kind to Cathy. That was, however, before her own daughter came of age. Eligible gentlemen were rare in their part of Yorkshire, and Clarisse Middleton was seventeen after all.
“Indeed, Mrs. Middleton.” Cathy smoothed her skirts, watching as Edward escorted Clarisse into the dance. Anger curled in Cathy’s belly. “Clarisse looks lovely this evening.”
“Doesn’t she? That dress is from London. Mr. Middleton spares no expense where our darling girl is concerned.”
Cathy shrugged off that comment. Her own attire was fashionable and costly, from a French modiste in London. Clarisse did look well in her gown, though. The four years separating them gave the girl a blush of youth Cathy feared was slipping away. Clarisse was fresh and rosy while Cathy has been rusticating at the manor.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mrs. Porter approach Henry. The widow was notorious in their little hamlet, though folks seemed more titillated than terse when recounting the woman’s exploits. Pretty though past thirty, the red-haired woman grasped Henry’s arm as she leaned her body closer to his. Her ease and confidence were clear, attributes Cathy herself felt woefully lacking.
She felt as though she lacked both youth and experience, more’s the pity. How could she hope to keep Henry and Edward’s attentions for long? Her fists clenched. How dare Mrs. Porter gaze at Henry with carnal invitation clear in her eyes!
“May I entice you into the dance, Miss Earling?”
She started then turned to find Mr. Hatfield standing before her. A widower with three small children, he was rarely out in company. He was pleasant with even features, but no man to tempt her from her two preferred beaux. She had promised Henry and Edward to keep herself to only them. They did not keep themselves to her this evening, did they?
“I should enjoy that, Mr. Hatfield.”
He took her hand and led her out onto the floor. She would not look at Henry or Edward. She would focus her attention on the steps and strive to put them out of her mind, but Edward’s voice reached her ears, as did Henry’s laughter.
Gritting her teeth, she accepted defeat.
* * * *
Henry stepped into the parlor of Thistle Grange, shucking his jacket to drape it carelessly over the nearest chair. “Tonight settled it for me.”
“Indeed?” Edward poured two drinks, handing one glass to Henry. “I admit I am growing restless, delaying our seduction.”
“What would you have preferred?” Henry took a long sip. “Both of us dance with her at the same time? I could scarcely bear the brush of her hip against my cock.”
“I, as well.” Edward drained his glass. “I had to dance with that simpering girl, that…Middleton chit. That shriveled my bits.”
“She is on the hunt, to be sure. She had better look elsewhere than the Grange for her future.”
“I want none but Cathy here with us, Henry. Mmm, she looked delectable tonight. Her dress clung to her curves. Naughty girl dampened her chemise.”
“I watched her as you danced with the Middleton girl. Her eyes flashed with jealousy.”
Edward nodded. “And I saw as her hands fisted in obvious pique when Porter’s widow flirted with you.”
“Her hands.” Henry let out a whistle. “I’d far rather have her hand fisted around my cock.”
Edward smiled, settling in the chair beside the cold hearth. “What is our next move, then?”
“We cannot let her stew in her jealousy. I fear we do not have that sort of time.”
“Hatfield.” Edward sneered. “How dare he make cow eyes at our girl. We cannot let her throw her life away in marriage to that bore.”
“Well, she will not fathom the thought of the three of us together forever, Edward. Not with matters as they are at present.”
“True. That sharp mind of hers will not accept it until her delectable body does.”
“We have to prove to her that the two of us can be satisfied with only her.” Henry set down his glass and leaned forward. “And she with only the two of us.”
“Tomorrow, then. We will take her on a picnic. On the moors, I think.”
“Cathy loves the moors. Capital notion. Wine and cheese and fruit.” Henry winked. “Spirits and foods we eat with our hands. Quite sensual.”
“Strawberries, Henry. Imagine her soft lips parting for the fruit, her perfect teeth biting into its flesh as juices run down her pretty little chin.”
Henry closed his eyes for a moment, imagining Cathy’s lovely mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. “Send a note round in the morning.”
Edward could apparently guess what Henry was thinking and let out a chuckle in response.
* * * *
“A picnic?” Cathy took the note from Maggie. “They have invited me to a picnic?”
“I daresay with the two of them in attendance, there is no need for your maid to accompany you.”
“I should say not,” Cathy murmured. A
n afternoon alone with Edward and Henry? Her body flushed hot.
“Although, the sky seems cloudy this morning,” Maggie went on. She folded her arms. “Perhaps you should forgo this outing today, Miss Cathy.”
“I will not. They thought enough to invite me, Maggie. No doubt they have arranged the food and such. I shall not disappoint them.”
“Promise me you will come home should it rain?”
“Oh, pooh.” Cathy waved a hand. “I declare the sun shall be with us for the whole of our outing.”
“You always were a determined child. Why should the weather not bow to you as well?”
Cathy grinned, settling on the couch to await their arrival.
Soon she was climbing over the crags and bracken with them, higher and higher until Edward declared they’d found the perfect spot. Henry concurred, setting their basket on the ground before her.
Withdrawing a blanket from within, he opened it with a flourish and set it down. “What say you, Cathy?”
“Perfect indeed,” she said, throwing her arms wide. The air was brisk, holding a snap of salt from the sea to the east. The moorland was awash in purple, heather blooming as far as her eyes could see. Clouds threatened above, however. Rolling in dark and gray from the coast.
“Blast Maggie, anyway,” she cried.
Edward chuckled. “What has Maggie done to raise your ire this afternoon?”
She tilted her chin. “She threatened rain when I wanted it sunny and clear.”
Henry winced as a fat drop of rain landed on his cheek. “Blast Maggie, indeed.” He grabbed up the blanket and basket. “I fear she was correct.”
The skies opened with a downpour, the winds whipping her skirts about her legs as they looked about for escape.
“Where to?” Edward called over the wind.
She dashed the rain from her cheeks, lifting a wet hank of hair from her eyes. “The hunting lodge.”
Henry stood still then nodded. “Your father’s?”
“Yes,” she shouted back.
Going as fast as they dared over the slippery crags, they hurried off in the direction of her late father’s hunting lodge. Maintained by the manor’s servants, it would provide perfect shelter this stormy afternoon.