He said nothing about that. But he leaned closer. “And what about what you went through yesterday? Being shot at. It was a shock, yes?”
She caught her breath as those moments flooded her senses just as they had the previous night. She steadied herself and whispered, “Yes.”
“So after a loveless marriage and a terrible upset, you just wanted to feel good. Isn’t that what Marcus said to you? He asked if you wanted to feel good.”
She blushed as she remembered those words, said so softly, so seductively. Remembered the warmth of Marcus’s breath on her neck, on her mouth.
“Yes,” she gasped.
“And did it work?” He reached out and skimmed his fingertips along her arm. Even through her light spencer, she felt the electric current of his touch. “When he took you, when I watched you, did it make you feel good?”
Her legs shook, her sex quaked and she could hardly form the word. “Yes,” she croaked.
He dropped to his knees before her and leaned up so that his mouth was a breath from hers. “And now, if I touched you now. Would that make you feel good?”
She gasped and looked at the window. Through the gap in the thin curtain, she could see Marcus riding outside. She glanced back at Everett with what she knew were questions in her eyes.
“He wanted me to watch you,” he explained softly. “He knows what I want. We share, Naomi. Would you like us to share you?”
Her body twitched, a flicker that was so close to orgasm that she let out a low moan. She had been thinking about last night since she woke. Not just of Marcus touching her, but of Everett. Both men, mixed together in her mind.
And in that moment, she wanted him so badly that she couldn’t stop herself from nodding, wordless.
That was enough for him. He palmed the back of her neck and drew her forward. Then his mouth was on hers.
When Marcus kissed her last night he had been hungry, desperate. Everett was something else. Gentle but insistent, his full lips gliding over hers and coaxing a response rather than demanding it. He cupped her hip with his free hand and dragged her to the edge of the carriage seat, then he wedged himself between her legs, bunching her skirt against the exquisitely sensitive space there.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning as he deepened the kiss, tasting her like she was a fine wine and he a thirsty man. Meanwhile he massaged her hip, then glided the same hand over to rest on her upper thigh. Her legs opened farther, a wanton invitation that he smiled at as he broke the kiss.
“Lean back,” he ordered.
There was no way to refuse when he spoke like that. Something about the way he said it made her jump to obey, and she settled back in a slouched position on the carriage seat. He met her eyes, just as he had the night before, as he lifted her skirts. She shook as he piled it all on her stomach and there she was, bared to him.
He said nothing, but bent his head and pressed his mouth to her. She jolted as he licked her, pressing hard against the folds with the flat of his tongue. She dug her fingers into his hair as he lavished her flesh with wet pleasure, and she lifted to meet him in a rhythm meant to bring her to climax.
She was lost as he focused the swirl of his tongue on one place, her clitoris, circling there, ever increasing the pressure. She moaned as everything in her world narrowed to just that one bundle of nerves and the powerful pleasure she found there.
At last, the dam broke and she keened, arching up as wave after wave of sensation crashed through her body. She gripped his hair tighter, tugging him closer, pushing him away. The pleasure was almost too intense, and he looked up and smiled against her flesh as he dragged her through it.
Only when she’d stopped shaking did he lean up her body, kissing her so she could taste her own flavor. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he reached between them to unfasten his trousers as he had last night.
She sought his mouth as he lifted her, positioning her over his cock as he reversed the way they were seated so that he was on the bench and she straddled over him. As she lowered down on him, they both moaned in unison and she tilted her head back.
“I’ve been waiting for this since last night,” he growled, licking the column of her throat, biting gently.
She didn’t answer in words. There were none of those left. All she could do was move, rolling her hips over him, gripping him hard with every thrust. When she looked down at him, he was staring at her, watching every twitch of her expression as she rode him hard and fast. She ground her already sensitive clitoris against his pelvis with every thrust and felt the orgasm that had just faded returning at a shocking speed.
When he caught her hips, digging his fingers in, rolling her in time, that was enough. She came again, crying out and not giving a damn if the driver or Marcus or the entire world heard her scream out her pleasure.
He pounded harder beneath her, his gaze locked on her face as she jolted through the crisis. Then he lifted her, moving her across the carriage seat so he pinned her against the opposite wall. He thrust harder, faster, driving his tongue into her mouth as his animal movements at last lost all finesse and control. He growled out her name, withdrew and spent between them as she dug her fingers into his shoulders through his jacket and reveled in the sense that she had made this very controlled man into a beast, at least for a few moments.
And she wanted to do it all again.
Chapter 6
As the carriage stopped on the drive, Marcus stepped forward, waving off the footman as he opened the door and offered a hand for Naomi. As she stepped out and Everett followed, Marcus couldn’t help but notice how her dress was wrinkled and Everett’s hair was mussed. He smiled. It seemed his friend had staked his claim after all.
The thought hardened Marcus’s cock in an instant. He shook away the reaction as he watched Naomi look up at the house and back at him in confusion.
“Are we…is this your house? Where we came from originally?” she asked.
“Yes. We’re around back to protect our entry from any prying eyes, but we’ve returned to London and my home.”
“Why don’t we go inside?” Everett suggested as he looked around. “And then we’ll explain everything.”
Naomi looked at Marcus, then Everett, as if she were trying to determine whose arm she should take. Marcus all but held his breath as she worked it out. Then she shook her head.
“Well, someone lead the way,” she said with a laugh that broke some of the tension.
Marcus couldn’t help but smile, and did as she suggested. She followed him into the house and Everett took up the final place. Marcus led them to his study, the same place they had met the remarkable woman who they had now each tasted, and motioned her to a chair.
“So why did we return to your home?” Naomi asked as she settled into place. She looked far more comfortable than she had the previous afternoon. Of course, sex would do that. Marcus knew it better than most.
As Everett sat on the settee, Marcus leaned on the edge of his desk. “After you were shot at but Everett couldn’t find the culprit, I knew we would need to be careful. After all, the blackguard could simply circle back, watch for you to leave or us to leave, and follow.”
She nodded. “I suppose it makes sense. He hadn’t been identified, so he could easily retake whatever position he was in when he shot at me.”
She shuddered, some of her ease stolen just as it had been yesterday. It made Marcus want to rip apart whoever had done such a thing to her.
Everett glanced at him, his brow wrinkling, and picked up where Marcus could not. “So we drove, creating confusion with our route. It is likely that if we were followed, we lost the villain before we even reached the inn.”
“And who would expect us to return here after we apparently left London?” she said with a nod. “That’s rather brilliant, actually.”
Marcus smiled at her compliment. “Thank you. Being in London will give us better access to information for our investigation.”
“And I will
stay…” She swallowed hard. “…I’ll stay here while you do that.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes. I’m afraid you’ll have to keep yourself indoors.”
“I’m certain we can find entertainments,” Everett drawled.
Marcus stared at his friend. Everett was often the more serious of the two of them, at least outwardly. His position in Society forced that. The way that title had come to him only made it worse. But now Marcus watched as the marquess winked at Naomi and she smiled in response.
He hadn’t seen Everett tease since…well, it had been a long time. Marcus hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his friend’s lightheartedness.
He cleared his throat. “Your room shall be next to mine,” he said. “It’s already arranged and was readied for you. The things we had brought from your home here in London should be prepared. I did not want to risk bringing in your maid since we aren’t certain there isn’t servant involvement in your attack or the murder of one or more of your husbands. So one of my servants will take her place.”
Now Naomi’s smile fell and she ducked her head. “I cannot believe this is happening,” she whispered.
Everett got up and moved to her. He cupped her shoulder and squeezed gently. “We will work it out. And I will stay here, too. No one will be able to harm you, Naomi, I swear that.”
She glanced up in gratitude. “Thank you. I appreciate that you’re both taking this so seriously.”
“Of course,” Marcus said, rising and turning away from the scene before him. It made him want things. Everett said he wanted them, too. And yet he wasn’t certain they could have those things and not come out with one or more of them…damaged. “Now why don’t you go up to your room? You can rest a bit and change.”
Naomi glanced at him, and he realized his tone had been sharper than he intended. She blushed as she slowly got up. “Very well,” she said softly.
He moved to the door and pulled the bell. When Verrick appeared, he said, “Will you show Lady Walridge her chamber?”
Naomi glanced at him once more as she slipped past to follow the butler. His heart sank at her expression. One of confusion, guilt, pain. But he said nothing as she left on Verrick’s heels and disappeared up the hall.
“Close the door,” Everett said, his tone tense.
Marcus sighed as he did just that and turned to face his friend. Everett was glaring at him.
“What is wrong with you?” he snapped.
Marcus shrugged. “We aren’t just here to fuck the woman. I thought she needed the rest after last night and after what you two obviously did on the ride back to my home.”
“Jealous?” Everett asked, raising both brows in challenge.
Marcus bent his head. “You know I’m not. The idea of you having her is…it’s stimulating to say the least. I wish I could have seen it. But Everett, this is a dangerous road.”
“One that leads to you having what you deny yourself regularly,” Everett said, folding his arms.
Marcus jerked his face up. This was a topic they avoided, more because of him than Everett. And every time it was broached, it set off a longing in him that ached for days.
“Not everyone can have what they want,” he said softly. “And that is just the way life is sometimes. Now, why don’t we talk about the investigation?”
Everett shook his head, and it was clear he had a great deal more to say than Marcus wished to allow. But he threw up his hands. “Fine. If that’s what you want, then by all means, let’s just keep ignoring what is right in front of us and get back to business.”
Marcus paced away. Being near Everett was too difficult in this moment. He moved to his desk and sat down, pulling out a sheet of vellum and dipping a quill in ink so he could take notes.
“Although Naomi doesn’t believe the earl’s death is related to anyone at Donville, I think it’s still worth investigating,” he said. “I can talk to Rivers and see if he’ll give us any information.”
Everett’s jaw was set and tight as he jerked out a nod. “Rivers protects his club membership information jealously, as you know. But if there’s a murderer in his midst, he might be more open to discreet sharing with the understanding we won’t make anything we find public.”
“We also need to look at the servants in each of Naomi’s households. Find any common denominators. Her maid, for example, and anyone else that might have come from place to place with her.”
“She mentioned something in the carriage today,” Everett said, arching a brow. “Before I made her come.”
Marcus lifted his gaze and narrowed it. Everett knew exactly what he was doing by throwing that last sentence at him. He ignored it. “And what was that?”
“She said she married the earl to escape a bad situation,” he said. “Mentioned something about a protective stepbrother and an unpleasant sister-in-law.”
Marcus tilted his head. “I’ll add them to the list.”
Everett nodded. “I think that would be best.” He folded his arms. “Are you going to have a problem with my staying here?”
Marcus let out his breath in a long sigh. “Why would I?”
“Because of her. Because of us. Because of everything,” Everett snapped.
Marcus set the quill down and stared at the sheet before him blankly. He finally glanced up at Everett. “Having you here will help,” he said softly. “It always does. Look, I know what you want. I know what I want. I think the fact that you and Naomi shared what you did in the carriage means she could want it, too. I’m not going to deny any of us that. Even if I think it could end poorly.”
Everett’s hard expression softened a fraction. “You would try?”
“At least for a little while,” Marcus said. “What could a little while hurt?”
Everett smiled, but as Marcus returned the expression he knew in his heart that even a day of giving in could wreck his world. In fact, he knew it likely would. And yet, he was ready to make that sacrifice. Because his need was stronger than his mind in that moment and there was no avoiding it anymore.
Naomi paced her chamber, unable to be still since the maid had left her a quarter of an hour before. It wasn’t physical discomfort that set her so on edge. The chamber Marcus had prepared for her was lovely, with a fine view of the garden behind the house. The fact that his room was just next door was a distraction, but also a comfort.
And it wasn’t the new servant that put her mind to distraction either. The girl, Hester, was kind and friendly. She had helped Naomi dress and did her hair in a lovely fashion.
No, there was no denying it. What made her mind wander was the two men downstairs. What had Everett said to her in the carriage?
We share.
It was all she could think about now. She knew what sharing meant in a sexual sense. She’d watched it in the Donville Masquerade. It didn’t mean taking turns, at least not usually. What Everett had meant was that he and Marcus made love to a woman at the same time.
Her. They wanted to make love to her. Together.
She shivered at the thought, then shook her head. It was time to go join them for supper and she had to clear her mind to focus. That was the only option here and now. Focus.
She slipped from the bedroom and down the stairs. Verrick was at the bottom, speaking to a footman, and he directed her to the dining room. She moved along the halls, taking in the sparse, sophisticated decoration of Marcus’s home, at odds with his big, muscular body. She’d somehow expected a man like that to fill his halls with darker things.
But he wasn’t exactly as he seemed. She was already keenly aware of that.
She entered the dining room and found Everett and Marcus were already there. They stood at once as she came to a halt, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were flitting over her. Their regard pulsed through her, teasing and taunting her with the promise of what would happen if she surrendered to them.
“G-good evening,” she stammered.
“Naomi,” Everett said, stepping forward. “You look l
ovely.”
She glanced down. Whoever had sent along her things had only packed two gowns, both for mourning. But the black did have a faint pattern, almost like lace. She didn’t hate it, though she missed color already. Her life had featured so much loss, so much trauma. It sometimes felt like black was all she’d ever wear again.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Everett offered an arm and she took it. The moment she touched him, electric energy seemed to jolt between them. He didn’t say anything about it, though, and neither did she as he took her to the head of the table and offered her that place.
“Shouldn’t it be Marcus who sits here?” she asked, shooting him a glance.
His dark brown eyes moved over her a second time and he smiled faintly. “I think we like you between us.”
She blushed as she took the place. Everett sat to her left, Marcus to her right, and immediately the footman delivered the first course for supper, a soup. She barely tasted it as she began to eat.
Once the servant had gone, Marcus tilted his head. “Everett informed me of the situation you encountered with your stepbrother.”
She set her spoon down and worried her hands in her lap. “Thaddeus was nineteen and I was thirteen when my mother married his father,” she said. “He immediately became my protector.”
Everett wrinkled his brow. “Many young ladies would welcome such brotherly intervention. You sound less than happy about it. Why?”
She shifted as she thought of Thaddeus’s gaze upon her all those years. “He was…rather intense about it,” she whispered.
The men exchanged a look and her cheeks heated further.
“You mean he wanted you?” Everett encouraged gently.
“I don’t know,” she lied. Out of habit. Out of embarrassment.
Marcus saw through that deception, though, and shook his head. “Yes, you do. Perhaps when you were young you didn’t, but you know now.”
Guarding the Countess: (The Scandal Sheet Series Book 5) Page 4