by Josie Dennis
The wicked glint in his eye told her he meant his words as he said them. She had indeed found her release under his skillful touch. Henry’s eyes narrowed and she watched as his nostrils flared. “Nevertheless.”
“Do come, brother,” Isabella said with irritation. “Let us return before your lovely cushions get soaked.”
Once more John smiled in Catherine’s direction. He was so naughty!
He bowed at her and Henry. “We shall see you at home, Catherine.” He flicked his eyes at Henry. “Tilman.”
Henry seemed pleased by the turn of events. He assisted Catherine into his modest carriage and secured the top. He then climbed up to drive them back to Bath.
Catherine sat in the darkened vehicle, nibbling her bottom lip. She replayed their outing in her mind, her feelings in a muddle. Perhaps it was a good thing that Henry and John were both out of her reach. The rhythmic rocking of the carriage served to heighten her arousal, the patter of raindrops on the roof soon adding to her discomfort. She could almost imagine herself in her little bed in Bath, lost in the wicked sensations her dream lovers could give her.
She unbuttoned her spencer and rubbed her palms over her nipples. This only inflamed her, hidden as they were behind her stays. She removed her jacket and reached behind to tug at the laces, loosening them enough to allow her to ease her fingers between the garment and her flesh. Oh, how good that felt! She let out a moan as she pinched and teased her nipples.
The carriage pulled to a stop, rocking violently as it settled. The door opened and Henry stood there, dripping from the rain. His eyes were fastened on her breasts and he licked his lips. “Catherine.”
* * * *
Henry stared at Catherine, taking in her expression of surprise. Her eyes were round, her mouth open. But it was her hands that drew his gaze. Her delicate fingers teased the prettiest breasts he’d ever seen. Her nipples were a shade darker than the rose of her lips, puckered and pert. Though she was probably unaware of it, she continued to caress them. His mouth watered as he imagined stroking the tips with his tongue.
“Catherine,” he said again.
He’d thought he’d heard her moaning but he never imagined he’d find her like this.
“Henry,” she said, dropping her hands behind her on the seat. “You weren’t supposed to—”
“Supposed to see your beautiful breasts?” he finished for her. “What, that privilege is reserved for John Thorne?”
She glanced down and pulled her dress over her breasts. “No, John did not see them.”
He closed the door and joined her on the narrow seat. He’d never much liked his small carriage, but he was grateful for its meager dimensions now. “Did he touch them?”
Her gaze slid to her hands, twisting in her skirts. “He didn’t, not really.”
He had to know. “But you wanted him to.”
Her long lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes. “Yes. As I want you to now.”
He cupped one breast, feeling its precious weight, its heat. Her nipple puckered against his palm and he gave a gentle squeeze. “Ah, Catherine.”
She arched slightly, rubbing against his hand. “Touch me, Henry.” She closed her eyes. “Please.”
He licked his lips then closed his mouth over the bud. She cried out and he began to suckle. She tasted as sweet as she smelled and his cock throbbed to life. He reached beneath her skirts and touched her. Her drawers were drenched and he lifted his head to glance down. “Did Thorne touch you?”
“Yes.” She spread her thighs to his touch. “He touched my…pussy.”
The word was a whisper as her cheeks turned pink. He removed her drawers and dipped a fingertip within her folds. Tiny muscles pulled at him as she moaned again.
“Did he fu—Did he take you?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. I have never…No.”
Henry spread her pretty pussy, longing for more light through the rainy windows. Falling to his knees, he watched the play of his hands over the milky skin revealed above her stockings. Her scent was sharper now, her juices catching the meager light within the carriage to glisten invitingly. “Did he taste you?”
She jerked upward. “No!”
Henry smiled. He saw the shock on her face but the speculation, too. Unable to stop himself, he buried his face between her thighs. Gripping her slender hips, he licked and sucked at her flesh. Her clit was swollen already, due to his play on her breasts and her own innate sensuality. She was so responsive, writhing beneath his tongue as he drove her toward climax. Thorne might have been the first to touch her but he was the first to taste her. And ah, what a treat!
“Just like my dream,” he heard her whisper. “Oh, Henry!”
He stilled. She’d dreamt of this? His balls began to ache, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from giving her what she craved. “Come for me now, Catherine.” He flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit. “Come for me.”
In the next moment, she did. Her soft cries of completion filled the vehicle as surely as her scent, her juices as sweet on his tongue as he’d imagined.
He waited for her to regain herself. She was a limp mass of sexual satisfaction there before him, and he knew if he freed his cock to fuck her she wouldn’t resist. She was pure, though. He had to know she would be only his if he took this step.
“I won’t take you,” he said softly.
She opened her eyes at last and gazed at him.
“That was lovely, Henry. I know I shouldn’t have let you do that, but oh, it was heavenly.”
There was affection in her gaze, he was sure of it. She couldn’t care more for him, knowing him for so short a time. Undoubtedly, she felt the same for Thorne, damn him. And that scoundrel was staying in the same house!
“Come with me to Norrington Abbey,” he rushed out.
“I cannot!” She shook her head. “I must stay with Isabella. I am to be her companion and I cannot…” She looked down. “I am dependent upon the Thornes.”
It was as he’d heard, then. She was without fortune or any wealthy family to see to her future. No matter. He wanted her. He was not without resources. An idea began to form, one where she could come and stay with him forever.
“You will be a guest, Catherine. You will have no worries while at the abbey, I promise you.”
“But what of afterward? No. I must stay with the Thornes.”
The rain began to lessen on the roof. He gave a nod and helped her adjust her clothes. “We do not have to decide matters now, love. Let me speak to my father—”
“The general?” She cut in. “Oh no, Henry. You mustn’t tell your father what we shared. Surely he would not want me in his home.”
Although he did not want to admit it, she had the right of it. He would have to approach the general tonight and make arrangements. He had to get Catherine away from the Thornes. It was the only chance he had to make her see she belonged with him.
Chapter 5
Catherine sat alone in the carriage once again, the trip taking far longer than when she’d traveled with John in his fast carriage. She was grateful for the solitude and the time, for both gave her the opportunity to consider what she would do about John’s attentions and Henry’s offer.
Neither gentlemen spoke of forever. That was painfully clear to her. They wanted her, there was no question. From every touch, look, and caress she could tell they cared for her at least a little bit. She was one of ten children, with nothing to recommend her but her beauty and good manners. Surely either man could find a woman who was her equal or better in those respects, with a fortune to boot!
Oh, she didn’t even know which man she would want if either of them made her a true offer. John would no doubt want a mistress, which she could never consent to be. As for Henry? He was likely of the same mind, as his father would never approve of his marrying a girl like her. Why did she have to indulge her illicit desires with them?
“Because you wanted them both,” she told herself softly. “A
nd you still do.”
She should stop herself from ever being alone with either one of them from now on. She was still a virgin, through no part of her own. Both of them had made that decision for her, weak-willed girl that she was. Should she be alone with John or Henry—or both of them!—she would undoubtedly beg them to take her. A tiny taste of the pleasures they could give her only made her crave for more from both of them.
When they arrived back at the Thornes’s rented house, she was still confounded. Henry smiled so sweetly at her when he helped her from the carriage she nearly cried. Was he so oblivious to the obstacles between them? Stature and station, the same things that separated her from John. However, the biggest blockade in her mind was her desire for the both of them.
“Well, you finally made it back,” John said as they entered the house.
His voice sounded teasing, but she saw the irritation on his face. Did he suspect what she and Henry had done?
“The rain slowed us considerably,” Henry answered.
John raked his gaze over Catherine and she shivered. She wasn’t chilled, not at all. His expression was as carnal as it had been as he’d brought her to her first climax.
“Just in time for tea!” Isabella said as she joined them. “Come into the parlor. Aunt Beatrice is within as well.”
Henry and John stared at each other, and then Henry nodded. “I would be delighted.”
He held out his elbow to Catherine, but John was faster. “Come, Catherine.”
She stood between them and was suddenly gripped with the naughty notion to take each of them in hand. Wouldn’t they be scandalized if they could read her mind! Instead, she lightly touched John’s sleeve and let him take her into the parlor.
It was a pretty room, with two comfortable settees and a few chairs arranged in front of the marble hearth. A low fire burned there, in deference to the chilly rain. John led her to one of the settees and sat beside her. Henry stiffened then settled in a chair beside Isabella.
“Did you all enjoy your excursion?” John and Isabella’s aunt asked from her perch on the other settee. “I daresay it is a shame it was cut short by the weather.”
“It was lovely, Aunt,” Isabella said.
“And what of you, Catherine?” the older woman asked. “Did my nephew and Mr. Tilman take good care of you?”
Catherine lowered her lashes. If the woman knew what she’d done, first with her nephew and then with a man wholly unconnected to her, she would set Catherine from the house in an instant. “Yes, ma’am.”
The elder Miss Thorne eyed her closely, finally nodding to the maid to set down her tray and leave them.
Tea was served and pleasantries exchanged, then Henry gave her a look of determination. He would repeat his offer to take her to Norrington Abbey, of that she had no doubt. Her heart tripped and she leaned toward him. “Please don’t,” she whispered.
“What is that, Catherine?” Isabella asked from her seat opposite.
“Don’t what, pray?” John asked, a slight growl in his voice.
Henry squared his shoulders. “I asked Miss Morris to join me and my family when we return to Norrington Abbey two days hence.”
John came to his feet. “She cannot possibly leave my aunt and sister, Tilman.”
“John, do let Mr. Tilman continue,” Isabella said. “Why do you wish to take Catherine with you?”
“I merely wish to continue our acquaintance,” Henry answered.
Catherine saw the contemplative expression on Isabella’s face. Most presumed she was feather-headed, but Catherine knew better. Isabella was sharp indeed.
“Well, she would enjoy a visit,” Isabella said. “No doubt the place is quite Gothic? Catherine so enjoys those novels, you know.”
“Quite,” Henry said.
Isabella looked down, running her fingers over her teacup. “Will your family return to the abbey as well?”
Henry looked confused by the question, but Catherine knew why she asked. The girl had developed a fascination with the rakish Frederick Tilman.
“My brother and father will follow within the week. We have ample staff, so there is no worry to Miss Morris’s reputation.”
“There won’t be,” John said. “I believe my sister should accompany her.”
Catherine stilled. “But what of your aunt?” She faced the older woman. “Ma’am, surely you do not wish to leave Bath.”
“I don’t believe there is any reason for me to, dear. I wish to stay and visit with my friends, friends too old and too dull to interest you girls. You and Isabella go, that is if Mr. Tilman wishes to extend the invitation.”
“Of course,” Henry said with a smile. “I would delight in nothing more.”
John was rigid beside Catherine, his hands fisted. Then he suddenly eased, leaning back and crossing his legs. She could not guess the reason for his turnabout, but she’d seen that knowing expression on his face just hours earlier. It was precisely when he’d given her the first taste of splendid release. What was he about?
“I fear I must accompany the ladies, Tilman,” John said. “That is, if you think you can extend the invitation to include me as well.”
Catherine shot him a look. He had Henry trapped and he knew it. One glance over at Henry told her that her dilemma wouldn’t resolve itself any time soon. No, her irrational desire for the both of them would continue through her awkward visit to Norrington Abbey.
“Of course,” Henry said, his voice clipped.
Then he shot her a look of hunger that mirrored the one John had employed. Perhaps the general wouldn’t allow it. That was her only hope. And her worry, truth be told. At least to herself, she had to acknowledge that the prospect of roaming the Gothic castle with her two beaux beside her filled her body with wants she longed to indulge.
Surely there were hidden passageways and secluded alcoves just meant for further exploration into the sensual delights they’d begun. Hiding her smile, she sipped at her tea.
* * * *
John sat beside Catherine, itching to reach across and grab Henry Tilman by the throat. How dare he suggest taking her with him to his bloody abbey! She was his, and he was damned if the man was going to get her alone again. Henry touched her after John had left with Isabella, he was certain of it. It was in his posture and demeanor as he brought her into the house, let alone clear on Catherine’s flushed cheeks. She’d worn that same sexual self-awareness after he’d given her what he knew was her first orgasm!
Henry stood, bowing to the ladies. “I should be off to make the proper arrangements.”
John came to his feet. “I’ll see you out.”
Catherine stared at both of them, her eyes round as she nibbled that delectable bottom lip of hers. She gave a shaky nod and focused on her teacup as Isabella began to ruminate upon all of the delights to be found on a great estate with such a history. Funny, the girl never gave two thoughts to their home in Somersetshire. True, it was no Norrington Abbey, but it was well suited to a wealthy man and his wife. That errant thought shocked him, so he quietly followed Henry through the entry and out onto the drive.
“I know what you are attempting,” he said to Henry once they were alone.
“Pardon?” Henry shrugged. “I thought Miss Morris could use some time away from her duties.”
“Tell me you didn’t take her,” John demanded.
Henry paused then shook his head. “I did not. Can you tell me you didn’t try to yourself?”
“I did not.” It was his turn to answer. “I could have, however. Ah, she was a willing woman in my arms after I made her come.”
“Damn you,” Henry spat. Then he tilted his head. “It is of no consequence, for I made her come as well.”
“You touched her,” John said.
“Yes.” Henry paused. “Tasted her, too.”
John’s mouth fell open even as it began to water. “God, I wager she was sweet.”
Henry gave him a small smile. “Quite.”
“Tell
me what your plan was, Henry. Did you think to take her to that pile of rocks and despoil her?”
“Ha, you are one to talk. Had she remained under the same roof with you for another sennight her maidenhead would be a memory.”
John suspected that as well but he wouldn’t give Henry the satisfaction of acknowledging that fact. “She has no fortune.”
“I am well aware of her circumstances.”
“They don’t matter a whit to me, but they should to you. Your brother will inherit, that is if he doesn’t succumb to the pox first,” he told Henry. “That leaves you with little to recommend yourself.”
Henry’s cheeks reddened. “I shall have my living.”
“And you believe that is enough for Catherine? The girl is not hunting a fortune to be sure, and she was certainly not born to one. Yet she carries herself like a lady. I can give her everything.”
Henry stared at him for a beat. “You cannot mean you’ll marry her. You?”
“I am not the boy I was at school,” John said. “I don’t know quite what I feel for Catherine, but it is something I’ve never encountered.”
“The same is true for me,” Henry admitted with a frown.
“The solution is before us, then.”
“What do you propose we do?”
“We shall each court her. It shall be up to Catherine whom she gifts with her heart as well as her body.”
Henry appeared to consider John’s words, and then he nodded. “I suppose I have no choice.”
John grinned. He couldn’t help it. “None whatsoever.”
He might not have a crumbling castle to enthrall Catherine’s fantasies, but he’d endeavor to give her enough reason to explore each and every one of them with him.
Chapter 6
To Henry’s surprise the general did not take as much convincing as he’d feared. He’d gotten the notion in his head that Catherine was an heiress to as large a fortune as Isabella Thorne and readily agreed to have the two ladies and John visit at the abbey. He’d hinted that Isabella would be a fine choice as a bride but Henry wouldn’t speak to that possibility. He wanted Catherine and only Catherine, fortune or no.
