by Nia Farrell
Edward nodded, his face grave as he considered the possibilities. “We are insured.”
Well, that was something. Still, the thought of destruction of any kind was enough to sour my stomach. Heaven help us if he learned of our relationship and threatened exposure, placing Edward’s position at the university in peril.
I rubbed my temples, thinking furiously. “Rutherford is smart enough to hire things done. He won’t risk doing it himself. Whatever it is. We need a comprehensive report on him. Where he lives. What he does. Why he’s here. The last I heard, he’d joined the Confederate Navy.”
Edward refilled my glass and handed it to me. “There are agencies that specialize in such matters. I shall solicit recommendations—discreetly, I assure you—and contact them about Roth and Paine. Hopefully, we will have useful information soon on both fronts. Now, my dear, you need distraction, and Daniel needs his massage. What say you help one another? There is time enough before supper for his session, hmm?”
I wasn’t certain how effective I would be, half-sloshed as I was, but Edward asked and I obeyed. Daniel, of course, handled his drink much better than I. He was only slightly mellowed. I wasn’t as boneless as an egg, but close enough that Edward had to help me get upstairs. He proceeded to get me naked, then the two of them distracted me.
Daniel did not get his massage, and supper was an hour late.
I felt like crap the next morning and vowed to never drink to excess on the night before a workday. We borrowed Young Frank (again) and started rearranging walls, stopping any time the front door bell announced another arrival.
We had a respectable number, given that the business was new. Word had gotten out about Saturday’s reception, and people were curious—either about my art, or Daniel, or me. I could tell if it was the latter by the way their gaze first went to my hair. Tucked under a net, it had grown nearly six inches since my last haircut in Chicago, but it was clear that it had been shorn.
By and large, our visitors were polite and considerate shoppers (rather than buyers, alas!), making demands on our time, then leaving us to our work. We stopped for coffee mid-morning, and at midday for lunch. The three of us ate in the loft, clustered around my dining table, Young Frank listening to Daniel while I listened for the door. By the end of the day, a series of L- and T-shaped walls formed a central corridor and eight galleries accessible from both sides. Unfortunately, the scaffolding would have to wait.
The wind was biting cold as we trudged the half mile home, where we parted ways. Young Frank headed for the servants’ entrance. Daniel and I entered the front. Relieved of our coats, we were informed that Professor Wainwright would be late. He had sent word to not wait supper on him.
Hmm.
My mind was suddenly alive with possibilities. A hot, leisurely bath sounded heavenly. It didn’t take much to tempt Daniel into joining me. It was a rare treat these days to have him to myself. Not that I was greedy, or that I minded sharing him with Edward, it just…well, it was simply different. We did, however, use Edward’s tub, being larger and more conducive to the kind of bath that we had in mind. I bathed Daniel, and he bathed me, and soon we were sloshing water onto the floor that took three towels to soak up.
I checked the clock. We were good on time. Deciding to keep my Irishman naked for the next half hour, I took him to bed and tucked us in, covering up to avoid catching a chill while my fingers explored the landscape of his body, lightly massaging as they went. His skin was paler than Edward’s, with freckles dotting his upper chest, shoulders, and back. Daniel had filled out since coming to England, from work and exercise—and perhaps because he was coming into his mature, manly form. I didn’t know the timeline for such things, but he’d be twenty-nine come March.
He was nude save for my St. Michael’s medal, nestled in the ginger curls upon his chest. He had a silly grin on his face that refused to go away.
“What?” I stopped for a moment, hands splayed over his pectoral muscles, his hard tipped nipples poking my palms. “You look like a child who’s snuck a peak in his mantle stocking and knows exactly what Saint Nick left there, from top to toe.”
That reminded me that Christmas was eleven days away, and I had no idea what to get Daniel. I knew that he was fond of my Fighting 69th series. He was the focal point in most of them but he stood by one more than the others. I resolved to tag it sold and save it to give to him, along with copies of the photographs that I’d given Edward for his birthday and the pocket watch portrait of myself as Lane.
His grin bloomed into a full-fledged smile. “Now, Lanie,” he crooned. “Can’t a man be happy without someone thinking he’s up to mischief? I smile often enough, ye shouldn’t wonder at it.”
This was true. I was the one who was far too serious, and Edward was not far behind. Daniel thought it his duty to try and tease smiles out of us.
“And are you happy, Paddy?” I asked him solemnly. I’d wondered, I’d hoped, but suddenly I needed to know if he was truly comfortable with this. With us.
With being one of three.
Edward was gone. Daniel could speak freely. If perchance he had any issues, I hoped that together we could address them and figure things out.
His smile dimmed, and he chewed his lip. “Aye,” he sighed. “That’s not to say I’m thrilled with all of it, but aye.”
“Does it bother you, to submit to him?” Not that Edward demanded it of him. He’d only made love to him once since that first time. Mostly they shared me. “Or is it that your body finds pleasure when your mind tells you that you should not?”
He shifted, restless beneath my probing gaze. “It’s not natural,” he said. “What he likes. The things he does. I can handle when he fucks me. I know what it’s like, and to him, it’s no different than making love to ye.”
“Because it’s not. He’s making love to you, and for him, that act is an expression of his love. Do not doubt it. He loves us both, as I love both of you.”
“Aye.” He glanced toward the door connecting our rooms, as if looking beyond it and seeing the bed that we three most often shared.
“You can say it, you know. You love him, too. I’m certain that he knows it, but it’s nice to hear the words. If you’re wondering what he’d like for Christmas, give him the words, and the use of your mouth. I think that nothing would please him more.”
Edward had given Daniel oral pleasure, but Paddy had yet to reciprocate. “We could do it together,” I said, inspired now, thinking about it. “We could take turns, one of us sucking his cock, the other sucking his balls. He likes your hands best, if we add fingers. Oh, my God. Can you imagine? He’ll think he’s died and gone to heaven.”
“And what do you want for Christmas, darlin’ girl?” He ducked his chin and angled his gaze like an adoring puppy, seeking a treat.
“An evening of music,” I told him. “I love to watch those hands of yours, coaxing music from your fiddle the way that you play my body like an instrument, coaxing music from me. I don’t know how tender I’ll be from the first piercing.” Two more days, and the deed would be done, one side at a time so I’d still have the other breast to play with, which was good. My paroxysms always seemed more intense if my nipples were involved. “We can play pirate,” I murmured, my voice grown husky, imagining the golden hoop in Daniel’s ear. “I’ll be Anne Bonny, and you can be Calico Jack. Edward can be Captain Stede Bonnet, demanding that we sail under him. The ‘sailing’ being euphemistic, of course.”
“Of course.”
“He’ll order you to fuck me while he watches and strokes himself. Next, he’ll lash me to the mast—his bedpost can make do—and flog me. Then he’ll make me recite the Pirates’ Code while he spanks my ass. Or fucks it. Or both.”
God, I was wet, just thinking about it.
Daniel was less enthusiastic. “Truth be told, of all of this, Lesson Three is the hardest for me, and I’m not even part of it. When he calls for it….” He blew out harshly. “I cringe,” he admitted, “with ev
ery blessed count. But then I see how ye arch yer back to meet him and this look comes over yer face, and ye’re so beautiful when that happens. I mean, ye’re beautiful anyway, but I rarely see ye look at peace. It’s like ye’re transfigured. Transcended. Like yer soul reaches a realm beyond this one. I know ye’ve said that it’s something he needs and something ye crave but I could never give it, so it’s good that he can, I guess. Oi.”
“Oi.” I pinched his teat and gave it a small twist. “Come on, Paddy. Time to dress for supper.”
By the time Edward arrived, we were nearly done eating. We stayed at the table and kept him company while he ate, telling him about our day (or most of it) when he asked, and waiting for him to tell us about his. He spoke of other, mundane things until we were in Daniel’s room for his massage. The bed was already turned down, with towels laid upon the bottom sheet to absorb the oil.
Once the door closed, Edward reported on his progress thus far. “I’ve contracted with an agency to investigate Adam Roth and Rutherford Thomas Paine, with an initial report on each expected by the end of the week. The firm is Ranald Clarke and Sons, on Bow Street. Clarke started in the Runners and joined the municipal police force when they closed, advancing from patrolman to detective before leaving to open his own agency. He promises to be thorough and discreet. Meanwhile, he recommends due diligence. We are to be aware of our surroundings at all times. Make certain that Elena is accompanied whenever she goes out. Report any suspicious persons or activities to him first, then the police if he deems it necessary.”
As ominous as it sounded, I knew that taking such precautions was simple common sense on any given day. “We will,” I assured Edward as he added coals to the fire to warm the room. “Hopefully it will not be for long.”
Edward straightened and rubbed his temple. “That depends, of course, on what he learns. If Paine has managed to keep his nose clean, he remains free to do what he dares. Until something is found to separate him from you or to ensure his good behavior, we must remain vigilant, hmm? Now then, I suggest that we get to Daniel’s massage, before the hour grows too late for it. Clothes off, Daniel. And yours, Elena.”
Excitement coursed through my veins when I wondered where he would be taking us tonight. What he’d have us do. Something with the three of us, I hoped. There were times that he wanted to watch, a master choreographer directing his dancers who performed for his pleasure as well as our own. Even when Edward reached for his cravat, I wasn’t certain if he would observe or join us, not until he shrugged off his braces and reached for his fly.
Somehow I sensed that Edward needed the distraction, the same way that I had needed it Sunday morning, after the events of the previous night.
I dropped to my knees in front of him and held up my hands, offering their use. Edward smiled and touched my hair, ruffling it with his fingers. “Yes,” he rumbled. “You may.”
His phallus stirred beneath the woolen cloth of his pants, making each button harder than the last to slip through its hole. I managed to free the lot, then helped him take off his shoes and step out of his pants. While I’d been working below, he had been busy above, unfastening the buttons on his shirt and stripping to the waist.
Edward wore only his socks when he sat on the bed.
“Tonight we will try something different,” he said. “A novelty, my boy. Four hands massaging you. Elena seated on one side, and I on the other. It will shorten the time, no doubt, but you must be the judge on its efficacy, and tell us whether or not the yielded results are diminished.”
We started on Daniel’s back, as always. Edward massaged his torso while I massaged his sturdy feet, grateful that he wasn’t too ticklish there. I worked my way up and Edward worked his way down to the perfect curve of Daniel’s bottom. He massaged each cheek, then stroked the crevice between. Curling his fingers, he pressed Daniel’s taint then rubbed it, short, insistent strokes that soon had Daniel’s hips moving to meet him.
Edward bent his head and kissed the hollow of Daniel’s back. Trailing kisses to the base of his spine, he dipped lower, teasing Daniel’s pucker, then delving inside, fucking him with his tongue.
Feeling the first foray, Daniel tensed, gradually relaxing as Edward played with his bottom and tongued his ass. I thought about climbing to the head of the bed and putting Daniel’s mouth to use, but Edward needed me more. I slipped off the bed and came around to the side where he half-sat on the bed, leaning over Daniel.
Sliding my hands up Edward’s thighs, I wrapped two fingers around the base of his erection and took hold of his testes, a bit roughly, the way that he liked it. Moistening my lips, I kissed the velvet tip of his penis, opened my mouth, and took him inside, deep enough that he moaned his satisfaction. The vibration made Daniel hiss into his pillow.
After a time, Edward lifted his head and fisted my hair, shoving himself into my throat, stealing my breath while his blew hot and harsh. “Dear God,” he grated, hips churning as he fucked my mouth.
Daniel rolled to his side. From the corner of my eyes, I saw his veined column of flesh jutting from a nest of ginger curls, hard and thick and long. I reached for it, barely touching until he scooted within my reach, then it was my palm and his cock and the friction he needed to get off.
He came, breath escaping between clenched teeth as a fountain of cum showered his chest. Edward was mere strokes behind, but watching Daniel spurred him on. “Swallow,” he grated, shoving his cock down my throat and letting go. “All of it.”
I managed to swallow without losing any. Edward released his hold on my hair, wrapped his hands around my biceps, and pulled me up onto the bed, rolling with me so that I was tucked between him and Daniel, who’d only had one side massaged.
“We’re not done,” I murmured, resting my hand over Edward’s heart and cherishing its every beat. “Paddy’s front needs taken care of.”
“Indeed,” Edward rumbled. “Clean him, pet. Every drop. I’ll want a taste when you’re done.”
By the time I finished licking Daniel clean, both men were hard again. Obedient to Edward’s wishes, I turned back to him and gave him what he wanted, sharing my taste of Daniel while Edward shared his, humming his pleasure.
He tweaked my nipple, a pinch and a twist felt all the way to my core, cracking open the floodgate, making me wetter still. “I can’t wait to see these pierced,” he growled. “No chain until they’re both healed, but then….”
Dipping his head, he fastened his mouth over the tip of my breast, sucking, licking, catching the tip between his teeth and teasing it with his tongue. His hand skimmed my body, seeking, finding me soaked for him. For them.
“My boy,” he rumbled. “She’s ready when you are. Lift her top leg and sink your cock into her depths, as much as she can take you, as far as it will go. Yes, that’s it.”
Behind me, Daniel wet his cock and stuck it in, just barely, but it was enough for him to jack his hips and thrust inside . The feel of him, being possessed by him, took my breath away.
As big as he was, Daniel more than filled me. He set to work stretching me out. Once I could take all of him, he fucked me, long and hard and deep, while Edward kissed me, making love to my mouth with his tongue while he kneaded my sensitive breasts.
After a time, Daniel’s rhythm shifted. His strokes became more insistent, and I sensed that he was nearing the point of no return. But I was halfway through my cycle, at my most fertile. There was no way that he could come in me tonight without risking a pregnancy that none of us were ready for.
“My ass,” I whispered. “You can finish in my ass.”
Edward’s head came up and his voice rolled over me.
“Or mine.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Daniel stilled, holding himself deep inside me, the tip of his cock knocking on the door of my womb.
I looked at Edward, who smiled faintly and shifted his turquoise gaze back over my shoulder to meet Daniel’s.
“If it’s too soon, you can use your word. O
therwise, you’ll need oil.”
Daniel released the breath he’d been holding, blowing it out in a huff. “Oil, I suppose. Are ye sure about this?”
“Yes. I’ve waited three months for it. If it helps, I’ll let you choose how you take me, from the back or from the front.”
Daniel seemed a little relieved by Edward’s offer. “From behind, I think, will be easiest. Darlin’ girl, can ye switch with him? I need him in the middle, on his stomach. I’ll get the oil.”
He found it, within easy reach from the massage that we’d done. He poured some into his hand, then reached over Edward’s back and passed the bottle to me. “Ready him, please.”
Gladly.
I was so proud of Daniel, I wanted to kiss him. And I did. I then ministered to Edward, lubricating his dark passage, stretching him, preparing him for Daniel’s girth. No small thing, that. I added oil, as needed, and then some, shifting away when Daniel climbed between Edward’s splayed legs, fisting his slickened cock. It gleamed in the gaslight, from plump ruby head to the base at his ginger thatch. He pointed it at Edward’s portal and tapped, seeking entrance. Edward granted it, pushing back as Daniel eased into him, sinking inch by inch, his shaft disappearing as he went.
“Yes,” Edward rumbled. “God, yes. You’re perfect. I knew it. Now fuck me, my boy. Fuck me!”
Daniel thrust into him, pumping hard—the way that Edward wanted him to, harder than he could ever do with me. He drove into him, again and again, shifted his legs and went deeper yet. Edward moaned his pleasure and urged him on with filthy talk that had me touching myself, seeking my own release. Daniel climaxed with a guttural cry, emptying himself in Edward’s depths while Edward spilled himself on the towels that we’d laid down.
“Fuck,” Edward grated. “Just stay a bit, if you will. The feel of you….”
Daniel flexed his back and pushed against him, hips drawing elegant circles as he ground against him.
