‘I can count on one hand the number of ladies with whom I’ve shaken hands. A kiss is a far more customary greeting.’ Admittedly, he didn’t generally aim for the lips, but usually the knuckles. ‘And she was looking at me with such obvious desire it seemed rude not to oblige.’
‘You’ve a vivid imagination if you think Emma was assessing anything other than your intellect –’
‘She was staring at my arse.’
‘– but it’s useful to know what it takes to grab your attention.’ Lyle counted the pointers on his fingertips. ‘A salacious expression, a pout and a prominent “don’t touch” label.’
‘It was more pleading than salacious.’ Salacious rarely stirred his blood any more. In fact, he liked things difficult. In a fit of playfulness, he leaned closer to Lyle. ‘I’d like to see you donning a “don’t touch” label. I think I know the perfect place to hang it.’
‘Would that be where you wish to touch the most?’
‘Perhaps,’ Darleston remarked cryptically.
‘Damn it, Robert! What game are you playing with me?’ Lyle brought his palm down hard upon Darleston’s knee. The resulting slap echoed around the arena. Birds scattered from the interlacing branches overhead.
Darleston stared at his stinging leg, which he was unable to rub without knocking Lyle’s hand away.
‘I thought we reached an understanding last night.’ Lyle’s hand slid upwards a fraction, slipping into the channel between Darleston’s thighs. ‘So, if you’re not set upon becoming a monk, and clearly you’re not, given that you were about to kiss my wife –’ Lyle turned his head expectantly ‘– would it kill you to show me a little mercy? You’ve seen what she’s like now. It’s never going to be physical between us.’
‘Ah, but I do relish a challenge.’
The fingers caressing his thigh turned into claws.
‘Ow!’
‘Robert!’
A wicked smirk climbed across Darleston’s lips. He couldn’t help it. A no was always more appealing to him than an easy yes. ‘Oh, don’t fret. I just have an idea about your little dilemma, that’s all. Naturally I’ll only pursue it with your permission.’
‘Unless it’s a plan that involves her becoming jealous because I’m repeatedly swiving your arse, then permission isn’t granted.’
‘A little jealousy could be part of it.’
With a jerk, Lyle sat up straight. His eyes narrowed, then he leaned forward, lips gently parted, his gaze locked upon Darleston’s mouth. His large hand burrowed into the warm space between Darleston’s thighs again. The tip of his thumb scored a line over the crotch seam, slid upwards and buffeted the wakeful ridge of Darleston’s cock. ‘Right here, right now. No running away. Dare you?’
‘Permission first.’
Lyle drew in a long breath through his nose. His tongue briefly wetted his lower lip. ‘What do you need?’
‘Everything.’
‘You’ll never get close.’
‘Then there’s no problem.’
Several bated breaths passed between them. Heat flooded Lyle’s hazel eyes. He nuzzled Darleston’s shoulder, ran a finger around the collar of his shirt, and then quick fingers made light work of loosening the knot of his necktie. ‘As you will, Robert. And as I will.’ He struck, targeting the soft, exposed skin of Darleston’s neck right over the pulse point. ‘You know you marked me last night. It seems only right I return the favour.’
‘You were begging to be claimed. I on the other hand am hedging my bets.’
‘Darleston, if you mention my wife again, I may actually throttle you.’ Lyle’s fingers stroked the skin his lips had just met. Hot tremors rippled through Darleston’s body. Necks were sensitive. He knew that, he’d seduced several past lovers in that way, but he’d never counted on his own neck being quite so riddled with nerve-endings. He barely moved, unable to focus until Lyle’s kiss reached his lips and then they sank into one another’s arms, sprawled along the length of the fallen elm.
When Emma had first drawn his attention to the inscriptions carved into the bark of the fallen tree, a crude and impossibly tempting vision of Lyle lying bound and prone with a gag in his mouth and his bottom bared had swamped Darleston’s thoughts. Now he saw their positions reversed, Lyle above him, taking charge of things.
Could they do this here? They’d be taking a huge risk. But who else would come out here? All the other guests had gone with Hill to meet Jack Johnstone at one of the outlying cottages. Only Emma remained, and she’d already flown. Having observed the bone-deep fear in her face, he couldn’t envisage her returning.
He worked his hands inside Lyle’s clothing, and then sucked in a breath when Lyle did the same and found the swell of his cock. ‘Fellatio is fun,’ Lyle muttered, while working his way down Darleston’s body, kissing his chest and the pale skin of his stomach that he exposed en route, ‘but what I really need is a nice long fuck. I need to feel you around me, accepting me. I need to make this real between us, not just play acting. I want to know you’re committed to this. I can’t deal with you blowing hot and cold, whether it’s a tease or not.’
Darleston steadied himself a moment. What Lyle was proposing was different to how it had been between them in the past. He’d always been the indorser, Lyle the nancy. And yet … ‘Is that what you really want?’
‘Robert, you don’t need me to answer that. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve got hard just thinking about it.’ Desire made Lyle’s voice husky.
‘Then do it.’ Butterflies filled his stomach at the instruction. Lyle remained tensely poised, as if he couldn’t quite credit the reality of the invitation. Darleston gave him a wicked grin. Wits and senses be damned. He hadn’t earned a reputation as libertine by acting in a respectable manner, or by waiting around for somebody else to make the definitive move. He curled his fingers into the hair at the back of Lyle’s neck and pulled him hard against him.
They fitted together like the two parts of a puzzle, as if they were meant to be together. It made sense. He’d once loved this man. Nay – that love had never died, circumstances had simply torn them apart and then it had been easier to deny his feelings than to live with them. He’d acted in exactly the same way over Giles.
Darleston nipped lightly at Lyle’s bottom lip, teased him with the promise of a deep kiss but stayed just out of reach until Lyle’s breath became fast and flighty. Only then did he deliver on the promise. As it had been the night before, the kiss left him feverish and uncomfortably hard. Unlike last night, he didn’t allow Lyle to take charge. Having tossed aside his hat and stripped the coat from Lyle’s back, Darleston jammed their hips together while simultaneously enjoying a good feel of Lyle’s bottom. Firm muscle filled his palm. The robust swell of Lyle’s cock branded his abdomen, promising … well, promising exactly what he damn well needed.
It didn’t matter if this lasted a week, for the summer or the rest of his life. He no longer wanted to deny the pull he felt. Instead, he committed to it. No turning back.
‘Swive me,’ he purred.
‘With pleasure.’ Lyle’s breath warmed his ear. His lips traced the lobe and descended again to his jawline.
Darleston pushed his hand inside Lyle’s breeches and took pleasure in the feel of Lyle’s erection filling his hand. This was what they both needed. It was a beginning and an end. They’d never properly said goodbye. This was a welcoming hello.
‘Trust me.’ Lyle winked as his fingers began to explore beyond the swell of Darleston’s shaft. ‘I learned a trick or two from that vadelect. All you need do a while is relax and enjoy.’ He made swift work of the remaining fastenings and dragged Darleston’s breeches down to where his boots prevented any further descent. Then, having first pressed a kiss to each inner thigh, he bestowed a series of ecstasy-inducing licks to the very eye of Darleston’s cock.
Darleston lay on his back and stared at the blue sky and swaying bowers. Birdsong filled his ears. Prior to Lyle, the last person to go d
own on him like this had been Lucy. He might hate his wife, but he’d made a fine job of teaching her how to suck. Yet Lyle breathed fire into his veins in a far more endearing fashion, seeking out tender spots so that the ache in his balls grew almost unbearable. His hips began to roll of their own accord. Fingers gripped him tight. They coaxed his legs further apart, traced circles over his bottom, urged him to lift up and turn over.
As he rolled onto his front, Darleston eyed the long slim wand that was Lyle’s cock. It had been too long since he’d allowed himself this pleasure. Butterflies began to riot in his stomach as he positioned himself over the trunk as he’d imagined seeing Lyle. He’d needed, had wanted a good pricking for so long, but circumstances had conspired against him and he hadn’t wanted a whore. He’d wanted someone with whom he had a bond.
Lyle’s hands settled upon his bottom, the touch so light it raised hairs all over his body. The sensation bordered on ticklish and made him realise just how few really good times he’d had playing the bottom role. No man had ever really touched him like this. Past encounters had been swift and frantic – seedy; something done in the dark, without an exchange of names or meaningful emotions. This was broad daylight, out-of-doors and luxuriously tentative.
Lyle touched him as though he meant to imprint a memory of himself upon the skin. When his thumb brushed the sensitive whorl of Darleston’s anus, he nearly shot up off the bark, it set so many nerves alight.
Dear God – that was only the trace of one finger.
Conflicting messages crowded his pleasure centres. Things became even more muddled, even rapturous, when Lyle bent and set his mouth to work where his fingers had strayed.
Darleston’s eyes drooped closed. He’d definitely never been kissed so intimately before. Within moments his blood ran so hot he swore brandy fumes had replaced his blood.
‘You really want this, don’t you?’ A whisper of hot breath assailed his ear. The tip of Lyle’s very cheeky tongue wriggled into another sensitive place. ‘Tell me how much you want it, Robert. Tell me what you’re feeling right now. Having regrets? Any final wishes?’
‘Let me feel you.’
‘Like this?’ Lyle’s form moulded itself to the curve of Darleston’s back. Loins pressed fast to willing flesh. Why was it that the sensation of a cock poised within the channel of his arse was in some ways more enthralling than the act to which it led? ‘Think you’re relaxed enough yet? Think I’ll slide in without a hint of resistance?’
He wasn’t sure about no resistance, but teasingly close wasn’t anywhere near close enough.
His senses screamed and his balls ran with an itch so crazy he wanted nothing more than to jerk himself to fulfilment then and there. Instead, he pushed back against Lyle’s cock.
The rasp of Lyle’s breath whooshed past his ear. ‘Easy, Robert.’
‘Easy yourself.’ He pushed back again. A shot of joy streaked from his anus to his chest as the tip of Lyle’s cock eased inside. A groan started deep in his chest and gained vehemence as it left his throat. ‘More. Do it and I’ll tell you what I have planned for Emma.’
‘What makes you think I want to know?’ Lyle wriggled his hips a little, but staved off Darleston’s attempt to take him all the way inside.
‘Because I know you. Give me a chance, Lyle, and I swear we’ll have her together. Have you ever had a woman as you’re taking me now?’
Lyle grunted – but not in affirmation.
‘Imagine it. Then imagine my cock inside her cunt so that you can feel me as though our cocks are caressing one another as we both possess her. All three of us sharing that perfect moment of bliss …’
A pinnacle he wasn’t so very far from now. He arched his back against Lyle again. This time his lover pushed forward at the same time so that their bodies met and Lyle slid deep.
‘Oh, God!’
The ache, was it always this good?
Too good.
Incredibly raw.
The border between ecstasy and pain had never been so fine.
‘I did warn you to go easy. Relax. Don’t tense up.’ Lyle pulled out a little, then slid back home. ‘There now. Show some bottom. Let’s just get you used to it, shall we?’
‘Fuck!’ Darleston swore. Drawn-out wasn’t what he needed right now. ‘Harder, Lyle.’ His words came out in a rush.
‘Like this?’ Lyle wrapped his arms tight around Darleston’s chest and tugged him into a kneeling position. Chest locked to his back, they swayed together, scaling the path of pleasure.
Lyle’s fist closed fast around Darleston’s cock and began to jerk him to the rhythm of their hips. ‘Almost,’ he cried. ‘I want you with me. It bothers me when the man I’m fucking can’t stay hard. Not that you’re having that problem.’
‘Keep stroking me like that and you’ll know just exactly how into this I am.’
‘Are you going to come while my cock’s in your arse?’
‘If you insist on stroking me like that, I don’t think I’m going to have much choice.’
Despite the warning, Lyle persisted in swirling his thumb around the head of Darleston’s cock.
‘Holy God!’
‘That good, eh?’
Darleston fell forward onto his palms. Sweat beaded his skin. His balls drew up tight as he soared towards orgasm. ‘Your goddamned wife is watching us.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘Emma, aren’t you going to dress?’
Emma glanced up from the sampler that lay upon her lap. The embroidery needle she’d held lay dangling over her knee by a thread. Amelia stood at the drawing-room door, her hands pressed together before her as if in prayer, a pose that was probably intended to mask the ridiculously low and inappropriate neckline of her dress. Only a tiny scrap of lace maintained her modesty. A piece would have to be sewn into it before she was allowed to wear it in public.
‘The dinner gong went five minutes ago, yet you’re still here,’ the minx said, before Emma had a chance to scold. ‘Oh, heavens, Emma! Are you so determined to wreck my chances of finding a husband? Isn’t that the frock you went out in this morning? There are mud stains all around the hem. You can’t wear that to dine.’
Dinner. Hours had passed. Yet she hadn’t seen or heard anyone come in. After Darleston had … after he’d touched her, her heart had raced so fast she thought it would jump right out of her chest. All of her breath had been stolen. She’d had to get away from him as fast as possible, but she hadn’t run very far. The mire of brambles made it difficult and her legs wouldn’t carry her. Her feet kept slipping. One briar whipped back upon her and left her arm beaded with blood. She cried out but he hadn’t heard.
Perhaps it was best that he hadn’t heard. He’d been going to kiss her. Hell knows what he’d have done if he’d seen her hurt.
No man had ever kissed her upon the lips. Darleston had looked at her and seen into her soul. He’d read the desire there, had been about to return it. If he hadn’t raised his hand first, he might even have captured her. Her heart sped a little at the thought. A knot of tension built in her womb. How wonderful that he recognised her desire, but he had to understand that she wasn’t like the society women he knew. She couldn’t be with him. She couldn’t love him in that way. Any passion would remain unrequited. Regardless of the desire she felt, she would never act upon it.
And yet she’d still about-turned and stumbled back to where she’d left him. There’d been no sense in her head, just as none resided there now. The sound of Lyle’s voice had spurred her forward. She’d known why he was there even before she spied the men together. She’d given Lyle permission. She had only herself to blame. But seeing them together like that … The details of what Lyle practised had never before troubled her thoughts.
Now they were her only thoughts.
‘Emma?’ Amelia’s shrill cry smashed the recollection apart. ‘Are you not well? You look ill. See, you’ve gone crimson and your skin is all blotched.’
Emma turned her head, but she could
not see herself.
‘Please don’t be sick.’ Amelia wrung her hands. ‘Father won’t hear of me being amongst this company without you around as chaperone. He’ll send me to Aunt Maude’s.’
Shakily, Emma waved away the concern. ‘I’m fine. Just a little faint. Too much fresh air and not enough to eat. I’ll be right again in a moment.’ She staggered past Amelia and into the hallway.
‘Should I come up with you and help you dress?’ Her sibling shadowed her flight into the hall so closely that her presence added to Emma’s nervousness. Amelia craved affection. Like a lapdog she was always underfoot. She saw any sign of weakness as the perfect opportunity to snuggle up close. It wasn’t that Emma didn’t want to return her sister’s love, only that she couldn’t bear to expose herself in such a way again.
‘No, you go in to eat. I’ll be fine once I’m rested. Could you please apologise to Father for me? Tell him I have a headache. And ask if Mrs Dobs would be so kind as to send up a tray.’
‘Should I have her send up a tincture of something too?’
‘No, quiet will be remedy enough.’ She gave her sister a weak smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine again tomorrow. I won’t let Father send you to Aunt Maude.’ Then she hurried up the stairs before Amelia could follow. More than her head, her heart ached. And when she mulled over what she’d experienced her womb clenched tight too, as if her body intended to wring every ounce of feeling from the earlier encounter.
All afternoon she’d sat gazing into space waiting for either Lyle or Darleston to approach her. She hadn’t given dinner a thought. How foolish was she? Lord Darleston would be next to her at dinner, with Lyle directly opposite. There’d be no avoiding either of them. Oh, no. She couldn’t face them together like that, not in public where everyone would witness her embarrassment.
Hiding in their room wasn’t ideal, but at least only Lyle would seek her there.
* * *
Dinner calmed her a little, though she didn’t eat a lot. Lyle arrived while she was stirring a spoon around in the mashed-up remains of a lemon tart. He paused in the doorway a moment before sealing them within and striding forward.
Her Husband’s Lover Page 6
