Read TemptressofTime Online

Authors: Dee Brice

TemptressofTime (12 page)

“My name on your lips—whisper or cry—your voice sings to me
of bliss.”

His gaze caressed her as he cupped her breast as if weighing
it. Kneaded it as if trying to make it swell like rising dough. Licked all
around her nipple until it stood up, a darker pink tip surrounded by pale,
wrinkled flesh.

Another hand, another mouth applied the same delicious
torment to her other breast—Adrian joining them again.

“When you cover these sweet orbs I want to bare them to my
hands and mouth. Claim them no matter where we are or who might see.
They
are mine
, I want to shout,
to do with as I please!
” Gentling his
hold, he soothed her nipple with his tongue, then added, “As pleases you,
Diane.” Raising his head, he met her eyes once more and smiled. “You like
that.”

“V-very much,” she admitted, arching into Walker’s hand and
Adrian’s mouth. Sweet heaven, she wanted them to fuck her now, and yet she
wanted this seductive recital to never end.

Walker sucked her nipple into his mouth. She cried out at
the painful pleasure Adrian’s suckling brought, as well.

Her breath coming in labored pants, she only managed to nod
her agreement that they continue. Their mouths wrought wondrous stabs of need
and sent them coursing between her nipples and her pussy. “P-please,” she
moaned, spreading her legs as she shoved their hands from her breasts to her
mons, then arched her hips.

“Your farthingale’s sway reminds me of your thrusts when I
bury my shaft in your cunt.” Walker’s lips twitched at the corners, as if
reminding her about crude words and mood enhancements.

“There are times…your prick tries…to escape your breeches.”
She rushed to finish before the clever fingers on her clit and in her channel
robbed her of sanity.

“Prick, eh?” Adrian murmured against her belly. “My prick’s
in need of a juicy quim.”

“She is not yet wet enough for pricking,” Walker said. “You
must first make her quim a honeypot.”

“Sweet heaven! Were I any wet—” Walker’s fingers on her lips
silenced her protests.

“Taste yourself,” he whispered, his eyes as feral as she’d
ever seen them.

Once again she sucked his finger into her mouth, fascinated
by his unwavering stare. “Salty,” she told him, wrinkling her nose.

“Nectar,” he corrected, toying with her aching nipples while
Adrian lapped her from channel to clit. Spreading her soaked folds, he plunged
his tongue into her core. With a cry of shocked bliss, she climaxed, her gaze
never leaving Walker’s face.

His smile reflected satisfaction she had never seen before,
too caught up by her own release to see how much it pleased him to pleasure
her. His male pride seemed much like her own when her pulses milked his cum
deep into her womb and he shouted her name.

“She’s more than wet enough,” Adrian said, easing to his
knees between her splayed thighs.

At that proclamation, Walker’s eyes flicked to Adrian’s
cock. Returning his focus to her face, he said, “He is hard enough, as well.
Are you ready to fuck, milady?”

Finding neither jealousy nor regret in his eyes, she nodded.
“Oh, yes!” The lust in her voice banished shame to the farthest recesses of her
mind.

In a way she couldn’t explain, this was the weirdest sex
she’d ever had or had ever imagined having. Her body flowed with Adrian’s in
perfect synchronicity, but it felt as if Walker were the one making love to
her. She felt the connection between them with every glide of Adrian’s cock.
With every groan and moan.

“When your cunt squeezes my shaft as if begging me to lose
myself in your hot, wet depths…ahhh…then I touch heaven.”

Wanting Walker to know her every sensation, she grasped his
shaft, gently stroking it in rhythm with Adrian’s thrusts until, together, they
all shouted their release. Adrian’s seed spewed into her womb, Walker’s along
her thigh.

If this sort of compromise brought this bliss… The rest of
the thought flew away as her men changed places.

Chapter Ten

 

The aroma of roasting meat awakened Diane from her sated
nap. With two warm but heavy bodies curled around her, there was no way to ease
from under them without disturbing their sleep. While considering a number of
titillating ways she
could
get their attention, her stomach growled. In
the near silence of the tent, it sounded like a lion’s roar. It also woke up
her men.

Two pairs of sleepy eyes caressed her from head to toes and
that was all it took to stoke the embers of desire into increasing warmth.
Shaking her head, she wrestled free of them and her rising lust, then
stabilized her stance on the shifting pillows and furs.

“I’m hungry,” she told them, her stomach’s growl supporting
her claim.

“So are we.” Reaching up, each man grabbed one of her hands.

“I have to—um—”

“So do we,” Walker said, releasing her then rolling to his
feet.

Adrian followed, scratching his belly and yawning hugely.

Men! Some things never changed about the beasts.
She
watched them stalk to the tent flap, then turn back to her, their expressions
puzzled.

“I thought you had to piss,” Adrian said, the crude word
making her cringe inside.

“I’m not going outside naked.”

Walker grinned. “Why not? We’re naked as well.”

“Yes, well…” She gave a helpless shrug and looked around for
her clothes.

Adrian’s laugh drew her gaze to him. “If you are worried
about my men spying on us…”

She was, but refused to admit it. Desperate, she wrapped a
fur around her and joined them at the tent entrance.

They matched her stride for stride until she halted, glaring
up at them. “Find your own place to relieve yourselves, but grant me a little
privacy.”

“Damn. I had thought to show you what my father taught me
about—” Walker teased.

“Some other time.” She picked her way over leaves and twigs,
then ducked behind a large oak. When she finished, she returned to the clearing
and spotted the men thigh-deep in the pond. Imagining how cold the water must
be, she shivered. She started to call to them, but noticed how focused they
looked, how still they held. On tiptoes, she made her way to the edge of the
pond, settling on a flat boulder that afforded her a view of the crystal-clear
water. A school of rather large silver and brown fish circled Adrian’s and
Walker’s wiggling fingers. The fish were so beautiful, she doubted she could
eat one even if the men caught any.

Suddenly smelling something burning, she sprang to her feet.
The men startled, swearing and scattering the fish.

“What?” they shouted.

“I think our meal is burning,” she replied as calmly as
possible while she looked for the source of the stench.

“I shall skin that boy, then spit him,” Walker swore,
stalking out of the water, looking fierce enough to carry out his vow.

So fierce, Diane shrank away, pulling the fur tighter around
her body as a shield. Yet she credited her instincts for preserving a modicum
of modesty while outside the tent’s confines. Whoever tended their meal was one
person more than she had expected. One person who had not—as far as she
knew—seen her naked.

“William,” Adrian bellowed.

A light-haired lad shuffled into the clearing, his eyes
downcast, his shoulders hunched as if expecting a blow. Biting her lips to hold
back a plea for mercy, she stood stock still, barely daring to breathe, and
willed the boy to look at her. She wanted him to see she meant him no harm.

When the boy raised his head and arrowed his gaze unerringly
at her, her breath whooshed out. William’s eyes were as black as Walker’s and
just as fierce. Spite poured off the lad in waves, making her cringe and yearn
to flee. Something held her in place—cowardice or courage, she didn’t know.
Perhaps nothing more than pride rooted her where she stood, sensing any sign of
weakness and the boy would win this silent battle of wills.

Inside, she was cross-examining Walker, heaping curses on
him for duping her. William had to be his son. Anyone could see the resemblance
in the color of the boy’s eyes, in the proud stiffening of his shoulders and
the defiant tilt of his chin. On the other hand, reason told her the boy’s
coloring could be his mother’s and have nothing to do with Walker at all. That
thought scattered her resentment.

Adrian reached the boy before Walker moved. Slinging a
brawny arm around William’s scrawny neck, he whispered something that lessened
the lad’s hostile glare and soon had them both laughing. Tousling the rumpled
hair, Adrian’s light slap on the youngster’s butt sent him scurrying across the
clearing, his dark eyes shifting between Walker and Diane. What did he expect?
she wondered. That either she or Walker would attack him?

“What you smelled burning, Diane, was wet wood,” Adrian told
her. “Along with a few cow chips.”

Wrinkling her nose, Diane said, “Eww! Too much information.”
Then she followed her anger toward its logical conclusion. She’d worry about
her modern language later. Warranted or not, fury in every step, she strode to
Walker. Shoving her face at his, she planted her hands of her hips and shouted,
“You blackguard! You lying son-of-a—”

He grinned. The damn man had the audacity to stand there and
smile at her as if she were the classroom clown and…

Forgetting outrage, she scrambled to retrieve the fur that
had fallen around her ankles. Adrian kicked it away, then stood at her back
while Walker pressed against her front. Their body heat flashed warmth through
her entire body and weakened her knees to the buckling point.

“I…that is you…” Something about them teaching her how to
tickle trout zipped through her mind then vanished. Suddenly airborne, she
shrieked nanoseconds before she smacked butt first into the freezing pond. She
surfaced, her skin dotted with gooseflesh, swearing like a drunken sailor and
sweeping her sodden hair off her face. Her teeth chattered so hard she couldn’t
form more words to tell them how much she despised them or how adolescent she
found their behavior.

Pulling her out of the freezing water, they once again
sandwiched her between their bodies. Adrian’s hands rubbed her backside.
Reaching her buttocks, he spread her cheeks and tickled her ring. His lips
teased her earlobe as his tongue traced its whorls. She shivered, not because
she felt as cold as ice cubes but because of him. Her breath caught.

Walker’s eyes grew impossibly blacker as he lowered his face
to hers. He didn’t touch her, yet her nipples tightened into rigid peaks that
hurt. Her pussy clenched around emptiness that yearned for his fingers and
ached for his shaft to fill her.

“I d-don’t want th-this,” she protested, her teeth still
chattering. She was so cold she almost couldn’t think, let alone speak.

“You do,” Walker countered as he cupped her face in his warm
palms. As if to prove his claim, he covered her lips and used his in sweet
persuasion. Soon she opened her lips, darting her tongue into his mouth to duel
with his until he deepened the kiss and somehow eased his shaft into her pussy.
Adrian’s cock slid between her buttocks.
Impossible
, yet impossibly
arousing. They all moved as one. Their breaths wheezed. Their moans and growls
blended in an animalistic chorus as their hips and tongues met, parted, then
slammed together again and again. She screamed their names. They shouted hers
as, together, they plunged into mindless satiation.

* * * * *

“I did not lie to you,” Walker said, rolling a grape over
her lips then pressing it into her mouth.

She chewed as fast as she could, but Adrian spoke before she
swallowed. “‘Tis true, Diane. No one knows who sired William.”

Limbs entwined, they lay in a pile of furs and pillows,
trays of fruit and cheese, tankards of wine and ale within easy reach. Diane
wondered if Roman orgies could match this decadence.

“He looks—” she began, halting when she realized neither man
had remembered their shared past. Assuming, of course, that she hadn’t dreamed
her entire medieval sojourn. Assuming they had dreamed it too, but had
forgotten. Not knowing gave her a headache. Dare she broach the subject? Or
would she once again risk being branded a witch? Suppose they did remember that
other time? Would they know how to go back in time or manage to arrive in
her
time and place? Or was it possible they could land in some time zone even
farther back in history?

“You think too much.” Popping another grape into her open
mouth, Adrian nibbled her earlobe.

She shoved him away. “While your brain lies somewhere
between your thighs, I prefer knowing what’s what.”

“Such as?” Walker drawled, his fingers feathering up her
torso to her breasts. Her traitorous nipples rose and her areolas puckered.
“Such as why William’s eyes are dark like mine?”

“S-something like that, yes,” she admitted, caution in her
tone. Her temples started throbbing.

“Romany,” Adrian whispered in her ear, his breath hot and
moist. She shivered at the pleasure he wrought. “Heart as black as her eyes.”

“G-gypsy?” Diane managed as Walker laved one nipple while
gently rolling the other between his fingers. If the men kept this up she
wouldn’t be able to think. Perhaps that… The question flitted away as each man
blew on her flesh. “I…”

Adrian slid beneath her, then used his knees to spread her
legs. Laughing at her startled gasp, he cupped her breasts and nuzzled the
tender spot behind her ear.

Walker knelt between her thighs, his gaze fastened on her
mons.
Oh, sweet heaven!
Could he see how her labia clenched? How her
clit throbbed? He spread her curls, exposing everything. Raising his gaze to
her face, he licked his lips. Her juices gushed as if he’d licked her pussy.

Adrian’s soft laugh told her that Walker’s lust and her need
were his as well. She couldn’t see his face, yet sensed he was looking at
Walker when he said, “Shall I make her come?”

“No!” she pleaded, embarrassment and yearning heating her
body.
Sweet heaven!
What would he see if Adrian brought her while Walker
focused on her
there
? Would he see her pussy’s every pulse?

“Yes.” Settling on his haunches, Walker spread her curls,
then shook his head. Meeting her gaze once more, he said, “Hold yourself open
for me, Diane. Show me how much your cunt craves my tongue.”

With a will beyond her control, her hands obeyed, replacing
his as he leaned over her mound. His indrawn breath seemed to suck resistance
from her. Yes, she blushed. Yes, her thighs trembled. But she knew she wanted
this as much or more than her men did. She opened her legs even wider, spread
her folds wider too, and watched Walker’s pupils dilate until they filled his
eyes.

Adrian’s fingers played over her torso and breasts, his
tongue along her neck and ear. “Kiss me,” he whispered, one hand cupped around
her chin to tilt her face to his.

Moaning, she complied, her lips parting to take his tongue’s
thrusts and parries. His hands returned to her breasts, his fingers circling,
rubbing, and pinching her nipples. Heat flooded her entire body, then centered
in her empty pussy. She needed to climax, yet wanted the craving to go on and
on. She willed herself not to come, but need overcame her as wave after wave
eddied and built until she couldn’t take any more. She plunged her own fingers
into her spasming pussy only to have them ripped away, replaced by Walker’s,
his tongue and teeth and lips wreaking sweet bliss on her throbbing clit.

Writhing, her breath harsh pants, one hand fisted in
Adrian’s hair, the other in Walker’s, she rode the waves until, at last, she
glided to shore. Her hips still rose and fell, making her aware of Adrian’s
cock sliding between her buttocks, of his fingers tickling her ring while
Walker continued to lap her clit and press her G-spot.

“I c-can’t. N-not yet.”

“Care to wager?” Walker mumbled against her labia, adding to
the conflagration building anew inside her. When he wiggled his tongue into her
channel, Adrian tickled her ring, shattering her into a million shards of sated
bliss.

* * * * *

Had Walker and Adrian lied about William?
Diane
pondered the question as she bathed. She might demand to meet the boy’s mother
and see for herself how much or how little William resembled her. What good
that would do—even if the men agreed to the encounter—Diane had no idea.
Besides, she didn’t trust Walker not to prohibit the meeting altogether.

What to do? What to do?

Nothing.

Which went against every belief she held. If something
puzzled her, she always dug deeper until she either found an answer she could
live with or something new distracted her. Of course, when writing, she let
nothing distract her.

Not true.

She often had to force herself to finish one story before
moving on to the next. New plotlines, new characters, new
what-ifs
played through her mind even as she worked to complete a scene. Perhaps that’s
what she should do now…imagine a meeting between William’s mother and herself.
Yes!

A moonless night. A clandestine location far away from
Walker’s castle.

Well, not too far away, since she couldn’t risk taking a
horse from the stables. What if the stable boys awoke or the horse refused to
let her saddle it or…
Ah!
The farthest point of the formal gardens where
the woods began.
Or ended
, depending on whether one was arriving or
leaving. And if there was no moon, how could she see the color of the woman’s
eyes? Hell, how could she even find her way to the meeting place?

Wasn’t this exercise futile? A means to distract herself
from the real issue?

Which is?

Unwilling to think about the several problems in her life,
she got out of the tub then wrapped a towel around her body. Considering the
lack of technology in this age, the fabric felt remarkably soft. As soft as the
furs she’d lain upon yesterday while she and her men…

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