by Stacy Reid
They began moving with powerful thrusts inside her. Maxwell started thrusting in counterpoint to Marcellus buried inside her ass. She cried out as bliss seared her nerve endings. Perspiration soaked her hair and ran in rivulets down her back as they both took her for what seemed like hours. She knew it could not possibly be so, but she was lost in a haze of hedonistic eroticism. Male groans echoed around the room. Hot, sweet waves of ecstasy poured over her and into her. She tightened on their surging thicknesses, feeling her release gathering, building in heat and strength, until she jerked in their hold, screaming as it overtook her. She was stretched, filled, pleasured as she had never thought possible. She mindlessly chanted their names as she was engulfed by wave upon wave of shuddering release.
MARCELLUS HELD LIQUID fire in his arms. Emmeline tightened on him, rippling around his cock as he invaded her ass. She was screaming beneath him, in a mix of agony and bliss as he seated himself to the hilt over and over. Destructive pleasure swept through him as twin sensations swirled and owned him. He felt the combined high from the both of them fucking her, possessing her, loving her. He could feel the silken tightness of her cunt as it gripped Max, and Marcellus knew Max could feel the sensations of her ass choking the orgasm from his cock.
Marcellus buried his face in her shoulder as he rode her. Her nipples were tight rosy buds and her breasts jiggled with their thrusts, and Max captured one of her berry nipples and sucked fiercely. She cried out in wanton lust, begging for more. She flexed around Max, milking and burning him with desire. It was as if lighting speared them both at the same time. It slammed into them, devastating them with ecstasy and binding them tighter.
“I love you, Emmeline,” Marcellus groaned into her throat and was rewarded when she cried her love for him.
Passion burned them bright and delicious until they were left spent, curled together in a sweating heap, breathing heavily. They soothed her with soft kisses, easing her, whispering words of love. They lay together like that for a while, silent, the sounds of the howling winds in the night soothing. They cleaned her gently and understood her sleepy, tired gaze as she watched them.
They curved her between them, contented to lie like that, feeling the echoes of each other’s joy and contentment.
“Do you think it will always be like this?” she murmured.
“I damn well hope not,” Max grunted. “That nearly killed me.”
She laughed, chortling with delight, and suddenly Marcellus knew they were complete. He was not sure if she realized it. She had smiled, even chuckled sometimes, but this was the first time she had laughed outright since the start of the war.
“You will marry me, Emmeline,” he commanded.
She snorted and Max grinned.
Marcellus knew she loved them because she wouldn’t have been with both of them otherwise, yet he tensed.
“Relax, you ass, she is teasing,” Max said, laughing.
She twisted on Marcellus’s chest and stared into his eyes. Her green cat eyes glowed, and he slowly relaxed.
“With your penchant for ordering, Marcellus, I must be insane to even contemplate it. I should marry Maxwell. He will allow me more leeway.”
“Hey! I will not,” Max blustered.
Marcellus captured her lips in a slow kiss, humbled by how much he loved her. “You will marry me so that our son may be titled,” he murmured.
“Hmm.” She sank into his kiss.
“Emmeline?” he growled, needing to hear her affirmation.
She laughed, and he could see the awareness dawn in her eyes of the feminine power she held over them.
“I will think on it.”
She shrieked as Max started to tickle her underarm. “You fiend. Stop.” Her laughter pulsed, strong and jubilant, stealing into his heart. He could feel the echoes from Max’s love and obvious joy in her happiness.
“Yes, yes,” she conceded, shouting with laughter. “I will marry Marcellus.” She ended on a soft note, the delight and wonder evident in her tone.
Life would definitely change for them all, Marcellus conceded. They both had her love, this woman they adored. She was willing to accept the pleasures they could give her, the lifestyle they would lead, and the love they had for her. He would marry her, and he and Maxwell would ensure she was always cherished and loved. This woman of their heart.
* * * *
Christmas Eve
Merriment danced on the air. Christmas, its feel and scent, was everywhere. The violin strings of “Silent Night” filtered through the crowd, its rendition so beautiful and poignant Emily’s throat tightened.
It seemed as if the entire village had turned out for the festive ball. Chatter and joyous laughter had been pealing through Willow Lake’s manor and grounds for hours. Fresh-cut red and white roses scattered about with hundreds of decorative small lights, which cast an ethereal glow on the snow and lake. The place felt enchanted.
The dinner itself had been splendid. Mrs. Bough, the head cook, and their staff had outdone themselves in the preparation of the meal. It had been months since many of the villagers had eaten meat. Lady Harcourt had ensured the dinner was a veritable feast. There were several platters of roasted rib of Hereford beef, roasted Yorkshire turkey, roasted joints of pork, cured smoked salmon, trout, Yorkshire pudding, and plum pudding served with nutmeg custard. Everyone had been delighted, and the meal itself had been informal and filled with gaiety. There had been no reservation as the villagers mixed with the gentry and their families, and the duke and his family. Now almost everyone was ice skating or dancing in the ballroom. Some had retired to the card areas, but everyone was entertained in some manner.
“You look ravishing,” Marcellus murmured at her nape. “Happy.”
Emily laughed and leaned into his chest. She did feel happy, blessed. Between him and Maxwell, she felt like a rare treasure.
“I love seeing everyone so cheerful. I feel as if we are healing.”
He pressed a fleeting kiss along her neck, and she shivered.
“We are, Emmeline. We are.”
“Are you ready?” Maxwell asked as he came up to her left.
“Oh yes,” she said on a laugh.
Marcellus stepped to her right and each held one of her hands. A thrill surged through her as they skated onto the frozen lake. The feel of being between them roused the most curious hunger and exhilaration inside of her. Her and Marcellus’s wedding was set for the last day in January. A winter wedding to be held at Willow Lake. She wanted nothing more in this world than to belong to him so completely. She had thought she would feel a bit separated from Maxwell, being married to Marcellus. But their past week of interactions made her realize her fear had been unwarranted. They both owned her heart and soul, and she knew she possessed theirs as well.
It had been a week since their mutual loving in the library, and she had been with both Marcellus and Maxwell several times since, but always separately. She yearned to be with them both again at the same time. She hungered for it. She had questioned how they would exist together as a family until she had taken a tour of Rosemead Park, the estate they would all live at after her wedding. The palatial grounds and the one-hundred-room manor had taken her breath with its ageless beauty. Their chambers had been specially designed, and peace and joy had stolen into her heart when she realized she would not have to sleep away from either Maxwell or Marcellus.
“What causes such a radiant smile on your face?” Maxwell teased as he twirled with her, leading her on the ice with exquisite form and control.
She felt graceful, elegant, and free as she glided with them on the ice, passing several parties. “I am thinking of our wedding night. How beautiful it will be. The pleasures I will have from both of your cocks inside me.”
She burst into laughter when both Maxwell and Marcellus stumbled, losing their graceful forms.
Marcellus skated impossibly close to her, brushing his fingers against the underside of her breast. She felt his caress through her winter jacke
t, and a shiver glided up her spine and beaded her nipples.
“Is that so?” he murmured close to her ear.
“Mmm, hmm,” she answered on a throaty chuckle. “Though from how you and Max have been ogling me the entire day, I can sense I won’t have to wait until our wedding night.”
“Hell,” Maxwell growled.
Emily chuckled. She had known tonight they would all make love together again. She could feel the lust, the intensity vibrating from them and entwining around her. She twisted on the ice, watching her loves, her heart bursting with joy. “I love you, Maxwell, and I love you, Marcellus.”
Maxwell raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her fingers. “And I adore you, Emily.”
Then Marcellus twirled her in his arms and claimed her lips in a fleeting tender kiss. “I love you, Emmeline, now and always.”
Now and always. She felt safe. Protected. Loved. And as Emily teased and laughed for the night with her loves, she realized Christmas wishes do indeed come true.
Loose Id Titles by Stacy Reid
Letters to Emily
Stacy Reid
I am an avid reader of novels, with a deep passion for writing. I especially love romance and adore writing about people falling in love. I live a lot in the worlds I create, and I actively speak to my characters (out loud). I have a warrior way: “never give up on my dream.” When I am not writing, I spend a copious amount of time drooling over Rick Grimes from Walking Dead, watching Japanese anime, and playing video games with my love, Dusean. I have a horrible weakness for ice cream.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Loose Id Titles by Stacy Reid
Stacy Reid
