Brothers In Arms 05: Retreat From Love

by Samantha Kane

  Very gently Freddy ran just the tips of his fingers down between her shoulder blades and she broke out in gooseflesh.

  “Freddy,” she murmured in a satisfyingly shaky voice. “Finally. I thought you’d never touch me.”

  Standing, Freddy leaned forward and kissed the bump of her backbone right above the edge of her petticoat. He pushed the dress down until it pooled at her feet and he helped her step out of it and then removed her slippers. He stood behind her again. “Never?” He ran his fingers down her back again until they found the laces of her petticoat. “It’s only been two days, Anne. Surely not that long.”

  “It’s been a lifetime.” Anne shifted restlessly. “I want you two touching me all the time.”

  “I can’t,” Brett said with real regret in his voice. “Freddy won’t let me.”

  Freddy looked away from the silken skin and delicate vertebrae of Anne’s back to see Brett’s hands holding on to the armrests of his chair. His pose was still negligent, but Freddy could see the tension in the corners of his eyes. Freddy turned his attention back to Anne. He leaned forward and licked the same bump he’d kissed a moment ago. Anne’s breathing grew faster with each caress. He let his tongue travel along her spine, over and down each exposed vertebra. Anne let out a little whimper.

  “You’ll love this game, Brett,” Freddy told him softly, pulling the laces of Anne’s petticoat loose. Anne raised her arms and Freddy pulled the garment off. He set it on the sofa and immediately reached down and pulled her chemise off as well.

  Brett groaned as Anne’s torso was bared. She stood in nothing but stockings and garters, and Freddy grew hard looking at her. He couldn’t even see her breasts yet, although Brett could. Freddy was aroused just by her back. It was long and shapely, her waist curving in, her full hips swelling outward just past the dimples in her lower back. His gaze ran down her back as if it were the slope of a hillside, until he reached the rounded globes of her bottom, full and high and luscious. He sat back down and cupped the right cheek gently and kneaded it, and then he ran his thumb lightly down the shadowed crease. Her whole body shook.

  “Do that again,” Brett whispered.

  Freddy did, and Anne moaned as she shuddered.

  “Christ,” Brett said roughly. “Her breasts shake when she does that, when you do that. Her nipples are so hard it looks painful.”

  “They are painful,” Anne said weakly. “I would very much like someone to soothe them.”

  “Freddy?”

  Brett’s voice was hopeful. Freddy grinned evilly. “No.” He left his hand on Anne’s bottom and placed the other on her bare stomach. “Anne, pinch your nipples. Show Brett how you like it done.”

  “Oh God,” Anne moaned. Brett’s answering curse told Freddy Anne was doing as she was told. Freddy ran both hands down Anne’s sides, starting at her shoulders and then following the curves and slopes down to her hips. “Freddy.” She sounded so weak, so helpless, so aroused it was all Freddy could do to keep to his original plan and not throw her down and fuck her right then.

  “Spread your legs, Anne.” Freddy held up a hand and Anne grabbed it for support as she did as she was told.

  “Jesus Christ, Freddy,” Brett gasped as Freddy shoved a hand between her legs.

  Anne moaned and moved on his hand.

  “I do believe Anne likes this game, Brett.” Freddy loosened his hold on her mound, drawing his hand back slowly. He traced his forefinger along the dark hot crease separating the cheeks of her gorgeous behind again.

  “Freddy,” she begged, “please.”

  “Do you see how she likes her nipples to be touched, Brett?” Freddy asked. Freddy was hoping that seeing another man touch her, being denied the right to touch her himself, would bring Brett to his senses. But in the heat of the moment, Freddy was losing sight of his original intent. He found himself enjoying both their torment too much. He liked being the one to touch, to drive them mad, to arouse them, to dictate their pleasure.

  Brett chose that moment to change the rules.

  “Like this?” Brett’s voice was husky. Anne had never heard him sound like that. It was a decadent sound, aroused and powerful. She’d heard him desperate, but this wasn’t desperate. This was deliberate, and it skated over her skin with a shiver. Behind her Freddy was frozen for a moment. She looked over at Brett and what she saw made her moan out loud. Her sex felt as if her heart had slid down to rest right there between her legs, pounding mercilessly.

  Brett still lay sprawled in the chair, but his jacket and waistcoat were spread wide, as was the neck of his shirt. His shirt was pulled down to expose the right side of his chest. He was pinching his nipple roughly. He let go and the small, brown point was hard, surrounded by a dark brown circle almost lost in the swirl of his dark chest hair. He ran his index finger around his nipple, through the hair, and then pinched it again, between his thumb and his middle finger, pinching and rolling. He pulled on it, and the pleasure made him moan as his head fell back against the chair.

  “I can see why she likes that,” he said in that same dark, husky voice.

  “Brett, oh my God, Brett,” Anne said, and she laughed breathlessly. “That is amazing. Do it again. More.”

  It was Brett’s turn to tease, and he did. He pinched and rolled his nipple, but stopped suddenly, and Anne looked up at his face. He was smiling, clearly enjoying her attention. “Do it, Anne,” he urged. “Do it with me.”

  Anne followed each of Brett’s moves. When he pinched, she pinched, when he pulled and plucked, so did she. It was an erotic game of follow the leader, and Anne was delirious with the decadence of it. Freddy’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging in deliciously. He leaned down and kissed the curve of her waist right above his hand, and then he rested his head against her side, watching Brett with her.

  “Do you like what he’s doing, Freddy?” she asked. For some insane reason she wanted these men to want each other tonight. Why? She wanted them both, but she also wanted to watch them with one another. She wanted Freddy to enjoy Brett’s new freedom as much as she did, and she wanted Brett to play with Freddy, just as he toyed with her. She was afraid to take her thoughts to the next logical step, afraid that imagining Freddy and Brett in a lustful embrace would bring her to climax as she stood there doing nothing but playing with her own breasts.

  “Yes,” Freddy answered calmly. “You know I do.” He moved his hand and bit her hip gently and Anne jerked and gasped. “I’m going to like everything we do tonight.” Freddy’s statement was matter-of-fact, but Anne heard the barely checked desire in his low-timbered voice. She’d only ever heard that voice when they were like this, making love together.

  Suddenly Freddy stood and grabbed Anne’s hand, pulling her across the room.

  “Freddy! Where are we going?” Anne was breathless, following Freddy willingly though she looked behind at Brett. He sat there watching them, his head tipped to the side as he continued to absently run his finger around his nipple. God, he was bloody gorgeous. Could she say that? She supposed she could say or do anything she pleased tonight. So she did. “Brett, you are so bloody gorgeous.”

  Brett grinned at her and Freddy laughed.

  “And me?” Freddy asked flirtatiously. “What about me?” He’d stopped and Anne turned to face him, suddenly more aware of her nakedness, her bare feet in their stockings, the garters pinching her legs, the slight breeze from the window blowing over her exposed breasts and between her legs, Freddy’s hand holding hers so tightly. All the sensations bombarded her until she was reeling. She reached out her other hand and Freddy pulled her close, his arms wrapping tenderly around her.

  Anne tipped her head back and gazed adoringly at him. She didn’t hide her feelings. Why should she? He had to know she was in love with him. “You are beautiful, Freddy. Don’t you know? When I saw you in my breakfast parlor, was it only not quite two weeks ago? I thought that you were almost too pretty, but that you were too powerful to be pretty.” Anne leaned up on her t
oes and wrapped her arms around his neck, the fingers of her right hand playing in the longer hair on his nape. She rubbed her nose on his neck, and then she kissed his stubborn jaw. He gazed down at her with those incredible blue eyes, his thick lashes half-concealing their color, but not the emotions swirling in them. “You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever known, Freddy.”

  “Anne, you give me too much credit, I think.” He spoke softly as he ran his hand up and down her spine gently. She felt the hair on her arms and the back of her neck stand up in excitement at the caress.

  “No, Freddy.” Brett spoke from across the room, and Anne lowered her heels to the floor and turned her head so her cheek rested on Freddy’s expensively clad chest as she looked at Brett. Brett rubbed his hand across his chest, under the shirt on one side and over his exposed pectoral and nipple on the other. It was such a masculine gesture that Anne’s breath caught. “She’s right. You are beautiful. It’s one reason people flock to you. To be near such beauty is intoxicating.”

  Anne laughed softly and turned her face up to Freddy. “Is that what it is? Is that why I feel lightheaded tonight? Because I stand in the glow of your magnificence?”

  “I wish that were so, Anne, but I believe it is the wine,” Freddy answered self-deprecatingly.

  They’d stopped right next to the piano, and Freddy let go of her long enough to adjust the bench in front of the keyboard.

  “I have no such excuse,” Brett said from behind them, and Freddy dropped the bench with a loud thud. He turned to stare at Brett, and Anne felt the tension in the air positively hum with expectation. She was humming inside right along with it.

  Freddy turned back to her with one last look over his shoulder at Brett, who just sat there staring with an enigmatic smile on his face.

  Freddy placed his hands on her waist and lifted Anne up in the air, swinging her toward the piano.

  “Freddy, what are you doing?” she squealed, kicking uselessly in the air.

  “Stop kicking, Anne,” he said with a laugh. “I’m putting you on top of the piano.”

  Anne stopped kicking, more in shock than because Freddy told her to.

  “Whatever for?”

  Freddy sat her down on the closed piano lid and then tapped the end of her nose with a grin. “Because, silly, we are going to play some music.” He touched the side of her leg. “Come on now, up.”

  Anne swung her legs up and with Freddy’s hands urging her, she scooted to the middle of the lid. Freddy walked around and sat down on the bench before the piano keys, which Anne was facing. He lifted the hinged lid over the keys and carefully set it in the upright position, leaving the keys exposed. Anne sympathized with them. Freddy looked up at her with a mischievous smile that made her heart race. “Come here, my dear.” He waved her forward. She started to roll to her knees, but Freddy shook his head. “No, no. Just scoot down and give me your feet.” Anne did as he asked with some trepidation. Freddy noticed her uneasiness and lifted her left foot in his hands until he could kiss the high arch of her instep. He looked at her over her raised foot. “Don’t worry, puss, I won’t hurt you. We are playing, remember? Don’t you want to make music with me?”

  “I want to make love with you,” Anne stated baldly. She was rewarded by a genuinely delighted look on Freddy’s face.

  “We will make both,” he assured her. He leaned in and ran the flat of his tongue over her sensitized nipple and Anne jerked then moaned as he nipped the turgid point and sucked it into his mouth. He hummed as he suckled her and just as Anne was about to slide her hands into his thick hair he switched sides. Her hands were left hanging there as he latched on to the second nipple, rougher than the first, pulling harder and biting it, holding it between his teeth. Then he set her foot down right on the keys. There was a discordant plunk of notes. Freddy let her nipple go with one last flick of his tongue. “Beautiful,” Freddy breathed. He picked up her right foot and set it down as he had her left. He leaned back and looked at her as if contemplating a painting or a statue. Her nipples puckered almost painfully, the cool air from the window chilling the wet peaks. After a moment he picked up both feet again and spread her legs wide before plunking them down again. He couldn’t seem to stop grinning. “Perfect,” he growled.

  Anne felt wonderfully exposed there on top of the piano. Her legs were spread wide right in front of Freddy, who couldn’t help but see every fold and crevice of her weeping sex. Anne leaned back on her elbows, hoping to give him a better view. As she did so her right foot began to slip off the keys.

  Freddy caught it. “Off with the stockings,” he said. He lifted her leg and set her foot against his shoulder as he reached up and pulled off first her garter, then her stockings. He tossed both over his shoulder.

  “I don’t have that many pairs of good stockings left,” Anne chided him.

  Freddy didn’t blink an eye. “Any article of clothing I ruin in my insatiable lust for you I shall replace. Bargain?” He looked up at her with his brows raised in question.

  Anne knew it for the ruse it was, but she’d lost the energy to fight over his well-meaning gifts. She sighed. “Bargain.” Freddy rewarded her with a kiss on the ankle and set her foot back on the keys. “The servants are going to think one of us has absolutely no talent on the piano,” she commented with amusement.

  Brett laughed, and Anne turned her head to watch him stand and walk over to them as Freddy made short work of the garter and stocking on her other leg. “I shall take the blame,” Brett told her magnanimously, placing a hand over his heart in mock sincerity.

  Freddy ran his hands up Anne’s shins, over her knees to her thighs and Anne moaned and closed her eyes, one foot jerking on the keys to cause a little tingle of two or three notes.

  “I like this song you two are playing,” Brett mused as he came over and leaned his crossed arms on the piano top at her side. “What do you call it?”

  Freddy slid the chair closer to the piano and pulled Anne’s legs until her bottom was hanging half off over the keys. “I call it ‘Freddy is about to taste Anne and his mouth is watering’. Too long?” Freddy teased as he leaned in and took a deep breath right at the apex of her thighs. Anne could feel his hot breath on her swollen lips as he exhaled.

  “Oh God,” Anne moaned, her head falling back. She’d had one other man try to do this, but she had simply been embarrassed most of the time. She’d been relieved when he’d finally given up and just fucked her. But she wanted Freddy’s mouth on her, devouring her. Her hips thrust up toward his face and he chuckled.

  Brett let out a huff of soft laughter and then she felt his fingers brush her cheek and tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “Anne likes that title just fine, Freddy. Personally, I’d have called it ‘I’m going to fuck Anne with my mouth’, but that’s really an artistic choice, I think.”

  Anne lay back fully on the piano lid with a whimper. “Are you going to tease me all night? Please, God, just do it. Put your mouth on me.”

  Freddy rubbed his face on her inner thigh, the stubble on his cheek burning pleasantly. “No touching, Brett. Rule number two.”

  Brett immediately pulled his hand away. “So sorry, Freddy. New game and all that. I’ll try harder.”

  Anne heard the amusement in his tone and marveled at it. He was so relaxed tonight, so willing to play with her and Freddy. She wasn’t sure what had happened. Was it because he’d finally told her what had happened at Salamanca? Anne closed off that train of thought. She didn’t want to think about Bertie right now, at least not Bertie’s death. She couldn’t help but smile as she wondered if this was one of the things Bertie had alluded to wanting to do to her in his letters. Knowing Bertie, she was sure of it.

  Anne felt Freddy touch her sex, a barely there flutter along her damp curls, and she shuddered, her feet plinking on the keys again. She closed her eyes and blushed in embarrassment. “Freddy, I can’t…the music. Everyone will hear.”

  There was a heat along her shoulder, a moist, warm br
eath. Anne opened her eyes and saw Brett, his mouth just inches away from her skin. “Don’t be embarrassed, darling Anne. You are a beautiful instrument that was meant to be played.” He skimmed his hand down her arm, not touching her but close enough to cause the hairs to stand on end and sensation to skitter along her nerves. Brett smiled as he saw the gooseflesh on her arm. “I want to hear you sing as Freddy loves you.” Brett rested his cheek on his forearm where it lay on the piano lid. His face was even with hers as she looked at him. “Sing for us, Anne.” The words were so soft she had to strain to hear them.

  Freddy skimmed her pubic curls again and Anne moaned. “I love the hair here, Anne,” Freddy told her, and she could feel him play in it, raking his fingers through it. She felt his fingers gently part her folds. “I love the mystery of it, the way it hides your sex, as if it’s a gift to be unwrapped.”

  Freddy sat and stared at her revealed sex for at least a minute. With each second Anne felt more vulnerable. The air was cool, chilling her heated slit. Without moving, without touching her further, Freddy drove her arousal higher until she arched her back in an agony of expectation. The keys played a song of need and beside her Brett hushed her quietly.

  Freddy lightly ran his finger down the left side of her inner folds and Anne cried out. She tried to keep her feet steady, tried to stay the music, but still there was an almost inaudible hum on the strings. “Your lips here are such a beautiful dark pink, Anne.” He ran his finger along it again, firmer, and Anne squirmed. “This has a curve, a flutter to it, like a butterfly’s wings.” Freddy blew on the same spot and Anne’s sex clutched in aching need. “It does fly, Anne,” Freddy whispered. “It flies for me.”

  And suddenly his mouth was there, on her, and Anne screamed at the wondrous sensation. He kissed her sex just as he kissed her mouth, with lips and tongue and teeth, and she did fly.

  Anne’s hands grappled on the smooth wood of the piano, trying to find purchase. She finally grabbed the edge near her hips and held on tight. She no longer cared about the music. Her feet were dancing across the keys without inhibition as Freddy’s tongue tortured her swollen flesh with soft, smooth licks. She wanted, she needed. “More,” she cried.