TemptressofTime

by Dee Brice

  “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…

  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 i
n 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.