Authors: Dee Brice
Don’t go there!
Every time she thought about her men, she recalled making
love with them. How they smelled as they became aroused. How their bodies
flowed over hers, melting her resistance, building lust in her every pore. How
their voices deepened and their eyes darkened when desire grew. How they shared
her taste with her after drinking her pussy’s juices, their cheeks rubbing
hers, their tongues mating with hers.
Think about something else, damn it!
What if I’m pregnant? What if I can’t get home? What if I
die here in childbirth? What if I die when I’m ninety, but I’m still stuck
here?
“I want to go home!” she wailed to the ceiling.
“You are home,” Walker told her from the doorway between her
bedroom and the bathing room.
Should she contradict him or change the subject? Or should
she just accept the possibility she would live here for the rest of her life?
He talked as if he expected they would all stay here.
“Are you and Adrian lovers?” she said before she thought. Of
all the things she might have said… Too late now, but she didn’t have to remain
in this small space to hear Walker’s answer. If he deigned to give one, he
could do so where she had room to maneuver, where clothing awaited her. Where
she’d be naked until she dressed.
He followed her into her bedroom, settling on a chair near
the low-burning fire. With his long legs stretched out, his lean hips resting
on the edge of the chair, he looked so relaxed she wanted to scream in
frustration.
Suspecting he knew why she kept traveling in time, that he
knew how to transport her back to her real life irritated her no end. How could
she trust a man who failed to disclose the truth—all of it? If he didn’t know
about their traveling…she didn’t want to think about spending the rest of her
life here. No matter that being with Walker made her consider staying with him.
Having Adrian in the picture changed the dynamics in every way. She wanted to
experience that total union of the three of them joined and yet… If that
was
what she wanted, why couldn’t she just tell them?
Because going home could change her life even more? Could
Walker manipulate time and return her to hers? Which is what she should have
asked instead of questioning his sexual orientation.
Oh well, oh dear.
Don’t ask, don’t tell, but she
hadn’t followed that advice.
“Why do you ask?” He sounded a little laconic as he
continued to stare at her.
Turning her back on him, she slipped her arms through the
sleeves of her robe. Only after she’d tied it closed did she let the towel
slide to her feet, then step free as she faced him. “You seem very comfortable
with each other’s presence during what is, essentially, a very private act.”
“As do you,” he countered.
A blush of embarrassment heated her face. “Yes, well… If
something is inevitable, why not enjoy it?”
Like staying here for the rest of my life?
Could she
accept that or would she always pine for home? What if going home meant giving
up her men while compromising and staying would allow her to keep them? What if
staying resulted in her never connecting with the man of her dreams? If such a
man—or men—even existed.
“Indeed.” He sat straighter, his fathomless eyes seeming to
gauge her mood. “Have you plans for today?”
“None that I know of.” She gave him a brief smile. “Have you
plans
for
me?”
He glanced first at the bed, then at her. A different kind
of heat flowed over her. Looking down, she noticed even her toes looked pink as
they curled into the carpet. She closed her eyes, desperate to quell the lust
weaving from her rigid nipples to her empty, moist and seeping pussy.
“Is that fair?” she murmured, looking up at him once more.
“Is what fair and to whom is it unfair?”
“Is our…tupping without him fair to Adrian?”
Walker stood. The room suddenly felt smaller, the bed
impossibly nearer as he paced toward her. She scrambled to find a mental
picture of the large cat he resembled, but knew of none with such dark eyes or
lithe, graceful menace in its stalking stride.
Halting close enough for a deep breath to graze her nipples
against his chest, he looked down at her. “Should we make a schedule, Diane? We
make love in the morning and during the night? You and Adrian swive all
afternoon?”
She laughed—a nervous almost-giggle that surprised her as
much as it did him. Or seemed to, judging by his quirked brows. “With that sort
of schedule, when would we all…do it together?” A poor retort, but all she
could manage given the way he’d defined their joining as
making love
compared to Adrian and her
swiving
.
“More important, when would you rest?” The tiniest of smiles
tipped the corners of his lips. Lifting a lock of her hair to his nose, he
inhaled its scent, then toyed with it a while longer. He appeared entranced by
the way the strands curled around his fingers like a living vine.
She thought her hair a poor substitute when her entire body
could and would curl around him. All she needed from him was a look, a kiss, a…
What might he do if she took the initiative? In medieval
times, a wife—and likely a mistress as well—could claim her conjugal rights. In
her modern world, a woman could and did let a man know what and when and where
she wanted sex. And exactly how she wanted it.
Her heart pounding in her ears, its beat pulsing in her
pussy, she pressed both of Walker’s hands to her breasts. Her nipples pearled
against his palms and she sighed loudly enough for him to hear.
His eyes darkening, he looked into hers. “Tell me what you
want, Diane.”
Without hesitation she said, “I want us both naked and on
the bed.” She worked his shirt laces open, then sought those at his waist and
below. His shaft sprang free, a throbbing rod in her hands. “Take off your
clothes while I watch you.”
With that, she inched away until she encountered the bed at
the backs of her knees. She sank onto the mattress, her gaze devouring every
inch of flesh he exposed. The abruptly shy-seeming seducer started with his
house shoes, then moved up to his hose and nether stocks. Arriving at his breeches,
he paused. With a wicked smile he cupped his balls then curled his fingers
around his engorged shaft through the fabric.
Diane gulped as she scooted backward to prop herself against
the headboard pillows. Later, she’d punish him for tormenting her, for playing
with himself while she waited, aching to have him deep inside her. His eyes
glittering, he went on caressing his shaft.
Two could play at that game, she decided, opening her robe.
Her right hand rested on her breast, pinching her nipple as she slid her left
hand to her mons, touched her clit in slow circles.
With a nod, Walker stripped off his shirt, but remained at
the foot of the bed. His dark gaze flicked between her face and her pussy as if
assessing which of her own caresses pleased her most. “Now what?” he said, his
voice a low growl that reminded her once more of that predatory cat.
With both hands, she spread her labia, allowing him to see
how open she was, how welcome he would be.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
She groaned, so close to climax she could barely breathe.
His hands over hers stopped her at the brink of bliss.
“Tell me.”
“I…want to suck you while…you do…me.” When he just stood
there, she whispered, “Please, Walker. I need you to…eat me.”
He fell on her as she imagined that ravenous cat might. For
long moments he only kissed her and she feared he would never let her taste
him. Never drink her juices again. At last, he positioned their bodies so each
could feast. As if he knew how she could choke on his shaft, he lay on his back
with her prone over him, her face resting at the juncture of his thighs. His
musk filled her nostrils and filled her mouth with saliva. She all but drooled.
He lapped her, then spread her folds even wider and sucked
her clit. She returned the pleasure, licking him from his balls to his cock
head, then sipping precum from the slit. He tasted like salty cream. Smelled
like a thoroughly aroused male. Growled and purred and laved her pussy like a
cat at a ball of catnip. His heavy balls contracted in her hand. She could almost
feel his cum traveling from his testicles, through his shaft to spew into her
mouth. She wanted to watch his face as he came. More, she wanted to swallow his
every drop.
“Come for me. Come with me. Now!” he shouted.
She did, gulping his cum as she gushed into his mouth. Her
spasms went on and on, subsiding only when his slowed as well. Panting, she
slid off him, then waited for him to take her in his arms and kiss her.
He didn’t move.
“Walker? Are you all right?” He still didn’t move.
Concerned, she twisted so she could look into his face. Into his eyes. She
shook his shoulder, pried open one eyelid and tried to remember her class in
CPR. At least she could make sure his breathing was unobstructed. Although how
he could have choked when she was the one who’d had his shaft down her throat
was beyond comprehension. She tilted his chin up, sucked in a deep breath and
blew into his open mouth as his tongue swept into hers. He opened his eyes.
Laughing, they licked each other’s faces like a mother cat
grooming her kittens. The image made her laugh harder. Walker’s erection
throbbing against her belly made her stop breathing for what felt like an
eternity.
“No schedule,” he panted, his breath hot and moist in her
ear.
“Sp-spontaneity seems wiser,” she agreed, her eyes widening
as he kneed her legs apart. “Walker…” Her voiced fading, she shifted her hips
until his shaft head rested just inside her.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No.” She arched, taking him deeper. Amazement that he had
recovered so fast gave way to pleasure as they moved together. Slick from her
own climax, her pussy clenched his shaft as he plunged deeper. Reluctant to
give him up, her vaginal muscles clung, releasing only to close around him
again. And again until they surged together, their bodies rigid while his shaft
pumped his seed into her and her pussy milked him.
Keeping her in his arms, he rolled to his back. “I
do
have plans for you,” he muttered into her hair.
“Already?”
Chuckling, he said, “Not that. At least not yet. Unless…” He
eased away and tipped her chin to look at her.
“I am more than content,” she said. “For now.”
“Good. For now.” Snuggling her closer, he added, “There is
someone I think you should meet.”
“Mmm?”
“Yes. William’s mother.”
If she’d had enough energy to move, she would have punched
him. As it was, she could only blink, thinking,
The man’s a bloody mind
reader!
Which was fine with her as long as he didn’t learn she was falling
in love with him.
All because he planned to introduce her to William’s mother?
How stupid could she get?
“Pretty stupid,” she mumbled, drifting to sleep with the
comforting beat of Walker’s heart in her ear.
Chapter Eleven
“Wake up, m’lady. Hurry.”
Opening her eyes reluctantly, Diane shoved away the hand on
her shoulder. “Go ‘way,” she commanded. She’d been dreaming—a delicious dream
of Adrian licking her from toe to temple, then settling between her thighs and
sucking her clit.
“Hurry, m’lady. The earl and duke may kill each other if you
do not stop them.”
“I doubt it,” she muttered, nevertheless climbing out of
bed, then easing into the gown her elder maid held up for her. Tying her belt
and fidgeting, the other began to comb Diane’s hair. She thought it odd that
neither maid would look at her while going to such lengths to make her look
presentable. Most likely she would return battered and bruised. Moreover, what
could she do that Adrian’s and Walker’s valets couldn’t?
With a mental shrug, she followed the woman down the hall
and over the landing to the east tower to Adrian’s suite.
“In there.” The girl pointed at double oak doors from which
no sounds emerged. Not even a grunt or a groan that might tell her if one or
both men were still alive.
“Damnation! Do you suppose…” But as usual, her maid had
vanished. “They’ve killed each other?” She finished the thought as she eased
open the right-hand door.
Seeing nothing but shapes in the faint light the small fire
provided, she ventured a few steps into the room.
“Adrian?” she whispered, spying a hairy leg protruding from
under the bedcovers. Hearing a groan, she shook off the urge to race to her own
rooms and instead rushed to the bed. Whoever was in it gave a dramatic moan.
Okay, the boys wanted to play. She shook the bare foot. It
didn’t move. What if they weren’t playing and the body belonged to the foot couldn’t
move?
“Walker? Your Grace?” She ran her fingers over the foot sole
and had the satisfaction of hearing a loud guffaw. At least the man was alive
enough to laugh. Out of patience, she whisked the sheet back only to shriek and
spring away.
Two equally devilish grins smiled up at her. Two heated
gazes raked her from head to toes. Caught between surprise and wanting to scold
them for frightening her, she planted her hands on her hips and glared first at
Adrian then at Walker. Had they had too much to drink? Adrian leaned on the
mattress as he staggered to her back, winding his arms around her waist and
leaning his chin on her shoulder. She ignored him, her rising anger now focused
on the naked man still in bed.
Walker’s shaft stood at attention in a nest of ebony curls.
Adrian’s cock poked her buttocks as he curved his hands over her breasts, his
fingers plucking her nipples into rigid peaks.
Walker left the bed to light candles placed around the room.
Finished, he motioned her to a high-backed leather chair piled with colorful
pillows.
Adrian, now seeming completely sober, nudged her toward the
chair.
Before she sat, each man placed a pillow on the floor.
Eyeing the spacing between them, she imagined her knee on each. They were too
far apart for her to kneel on, so might serve a different purpose.
“Sit,” the men said together.
Not knowing what to expect, she gingerly sank onto the
chair. Their somewhat softer cocks waved as the men knelt at her knees.
Adrian cleared his throat as he took her hand. His bright-blue
eyes focused on her, he said, “Have you decided, Diane, which of us you will
marry?”
Of all the things he might have said, this surprised her.
“Y-you said I had four months.”
“We see no need for more time,” Walker told her. “Have you
decided?”
“N-no.” She should give them reasons, but her mind had gone
missing. Everything in her yearned to keep them both. An impossibility, given
the times and mores and who they were. She also found Henry’s giving her to
both men improbable, but Henry had sired a child while still married to
Catherine of Aragon. So what could she draw from that? That morals were missing
and the king might have decided on both men for her? No, there had to be
another reason—perhaps one relating to her dowry, if she had one in this era. Henry’s
father had kept Catherine of Aragon prisoner until the church agreed to let her
marry Henry—all because he needed to keep her dowry. He’d incurred so much
debt, he left his country almost bankrupt.
Walker captured her other hand, halting her pleating then
smoothing her nightgown, effectively silencing her troublesome thoughts. “Then
you must take us both. Are you ready to do that, Diane?”
Her body was more than ready. All that research she’d done
using butt plugs so she could describe anal sex was about to pay dividends.
Unless her ring had shrunk from lack of use. If so, this experience could
really hurt.
“Diane?” Adrian prompted, squeezing her hand.
“Can’t we go on as we are?” Her face heating, she closed her
eyes so she wouldn’t see the displeasure in theirs.
“One at a time but together?” Walker said, as if to clarify
what she meant for himself. “We’d miss the—”
“Wonder,” Adrian muttered as if already relinquishing it,
“of our joining as one. Sharing every nuance of our bodies’ reactions. Touching
in ways we have only imagined.”
Compromise
, that treacherous female whispered in
Diane’s mind.
What are morals when compared to utter bliss?
Opening her eyes, half expecting to see her own face
floating above her, she said, “Slut.”
Walker opened his mouth—no doubt to inform her that she’d
already proven herself just that—but shut it again.
“Why haven’t you done it already?” she demanded, standing to
pace away. “You’re bigger than I am. You could simply hold me down and do as
you will.”
“We do not rape, milady.” Adrian sounded disappointed that
she would think that of them.
A rude noise—half laugh, half snort—escaped her. “You could
seduce me into agreeing. Make me want you so badly I would give you anything
you want. Do anything you want.”
“Absolve you of all guilt for any pleasure you feel.”
Walker’s laconic voice seemed to surround her in guilty
pleasure. Perhaps because he was so right. She had to take responsibility for
her own actions. Grab the opportunity to experience a joining she might never
have in her own time and place.
She supposed she would never go to court, but would live
quietly here with her men. No hardship there unless the king decided to visit.
Would she have to disappear or pretend to be the housekeeper? Or would the men
agree that one should marry her, for appearances sake, while they continued to
share each other? She’d be like Sophia Loren in the movie
Lady L
—married
to a wealthy lord while bearing her lover’s children.
If she couldn’t go home, she could live with that. At least
she’d maintain a decent reputation.
Turning to face them, she looked at each in turn. “Yes,” she
said, her voice strong with conviction. “I agree, with one caveat. You’ll stop
when I say stop.”
Standing, Adrian nodded.
Walker went to gather items off the fireplace mantel. “We
want to bring you pleasure, Diane. If you feel pain, it robs us all.” He
deposited his cache on a bedside table. “These should aid us in that quest.”
Crossing to him, she examined each stoppered bottle.
“Essential oils from cinnamon and nutmeg,” she said after sniffing each and
replacing the stoppers in two bottles. A TV commercial for a product claiming
to heighten a woman’s pleasure popped into her mind. Soon she’d have personal
knowledge if the spices worked as advertised. “Honey?”
Adrian flashed a cheeky grin. “Not restricted to your ring.”
Oh good God!
Did he mean to lick her
there
?
Walker gestured at a basin and linen squares.
“Whatever eliminates your pain,” he said, his pupils
dilating as he stared at her. His shaft began to harden. So did her nipples.
“Your own juices along with ours will also help,” Adrian
whispered in her ear.
Mesmerized by Walker’s growing erection, she had neither
seen nor heard Adrian’s approach.
“Will you tell me what you’re going to do? I mean—”
“You’ll feel it,” Adrian told her with a grin.
“We’ll start with something small.” Walker made a fist, his
little finger extended. “Then progress until you are ready for my shaft—”
“My cock,” Adrian corrected as if they’d already decided who
would take her butt’s virginity.
She could see a kind of fairness in the arrangement. Walker
had taken one virginity, therefore Adrian should have the other. She only hoped
Adrian had more control than Walker had displayed. On the other hand, she’d
been in such a hurry herself to have him in her, she’d barely felt the pain.
Now, however, knowing what would happen made all her muscles tighten.
As if they knew she would react that way, Adrian offered her
a glass of wine. Walker carried two more glasses to the bed, handing one to
Adrian as they all sat. The mattress gave only a little—more like her mattress
at home than those she’d slept on here.
“You are thinking,” Walker teased, tapping her forehead.
“Which is why you’re giving me wine.” She took a healthy
swallow.
“Not to get you drunk, but to relax you.” Adrian took the
glass from her suddenly trembling hand. “We do not intend to hurry you.”
“Or to hurt you.” Seeing her grimace, Walker added,
“Unnecessarily.”
Expelling her pent-up breath, she nodded. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Not yet,” they said together.
Adrian repeated
not yet
, his whisper hot and moist
against her ear.
She shrugged. “Tickles.”
“Because you are thinking about what will happen,” Walker
said, dealing with the ties holding her nightgown closed. He eased it off her
shoulders, his fingers featherlight along her arms.
Adrian kissed his way down her neck and chest to her already
hardened right nipple. Walker mirrored the action, but used his fingers to
tease her left nipple to painful need.
On a soft moan, she worked her arms around their necks to
press their heads to her aching breasts.
“Say what you want, Diane.”
“Suck my nipples. Kiss me.” Realizing the impossibility of
one man doing both, she gave a breathless laugh.
Adrian sucked her nipple into his hot mouth. She felt as if
he’d sucked on her clit as his clever tongue laved and darted and drove her
wild. Walker’s fingers pinched then soothed as he tongued the whorls in her ear
before kissing his leisurely way to her mouth.
One of them lifted her enough for the other to pull her nightgown
out from under her. From that point on, they all moved in perfect
synchronicity. Reaching the middle of the bed, they stretched out, arms and
legs entwining, tongues mating with increasing need. Not wanting to know which
one sucked her breasts while the other sucked her clit, she kept her eyes
closed and gave up her body to their tender ministrations.
Her first climax whispered through her, a zephyr coaxing
autumn leaves from almost bare branches. Her juices seeped down her folds. The
scent of clover honey, cinnamon and nutmeg wafted from between her thighs to
her nose. She felt fingers slide over her ring. It puckered, anticipating
insertion of a little finger or something that small.
A shiver of delicious need coursed through her, her fear of
pain blown away. A gentle slap on her buttocks reminded her she should relax.
Other fingers slid between her folds, caressing her clit,
easing into her pussy before finding that spongy soft spot that made her entire
body clench as her impending release coiled tighter and tighter.
This climax ripped through her, a tornado spinning her
senses into an ever-tightening curl. A sudden gale catapulted her free and sent
her soaring. Gasping, flying apart, she barely felt something inside her ring.
It pressed a little harder, stretching her yet somehow
adding to the exhilaration cascading in her veins, through her body.
“Look at me,” Adrian demanded.
Turning her head, she looked over her shoulder. His dilated
pupils made his eyes look black. A band of crystal blue still showed around the
outer edges. The blackness warned of imminent loss of control—the blue assured
her Adrian, her tender lover, still held sway.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his lips compressed while
curving up at the corners.
Without hesitation, she said, “Yes.”
“Do you trust me?” Walker asked, his voice as tight as the
climax once more gathering inside her.
“Yes.”
With that, Walker plunged into her spasming pussy. Adrian
surged up, burying his cock to his balls. It hurt, but the pleasure soon
eclipsed the pain.
It felt as if their cocks touched through whatever barrier
separated her cavities. Then all she felt was pleasure as they stroked and
fondled and pumped. Faster. Harder. All their bodies slick with sweat, their
pants and moans and groans a curious harmony of voices. Of bliss as each
climaxed in quick succession. When she recovered enough to breathe, she
realized she’d never known such happiness, never felt such a complete
connection to anyone as she now felt to her lovers.
They fell asleep like a tangle of blind, newborn kittens.
* * * * *
That evening
The Gypsy camp lay within easy walking distance of Adrian’s
troops. Walker, having informed Adrian and her of an uneasy agreement between
himself and the Gypsy king, recommended they ride to the military camp, then
proceed on foot. He also suggested they dress in their most casual clothing.
Diane assumed that was to avoid attracting cutpurses and pickpockets, then
chastised herself for stereotyping people she had yet to meet.
Walker had given his servants and crofters permission to
visit the Gypsy camp—a tradition on the night before the Romany left the area.
In truth, Diane found the scene much like the atmosphere at a torch-lit county
fair. Colorful wagons formed an irregular circle around the large clearing. She
supposed the arrangement provided a sense of privacy while still allowing the
occupants to call for help if needed. Jugglers, wrestlers, musicians and
dancers added to the cacophony.