The idea tickled her. She supposed he was anxious to give her a second go, since the first had probably taken him by surprise. He was probably curious about so much, having had almost a week to consider what he hadn’t seen, hadn’t touched, hadn’t tasted. She swallowed, stifling a giggle. She’d had too much wine at dinner.
“You were a good sport in all that, Ilsa.” Bradford set the book on the table beside him. “My father has become a tad trifling in his old age.”
“I’ve heard it said one’s family is always more of a challenge to them than to others.”
“I suppose we can all attest to that,” he said, uncrossing his legs. His gaze held a sultry gleam, as if he were also anxious to begin.
“Well then.” Frederick fidgeted. “Shall we?” He swallowed.
Could it be he was more nervous than she? The wine had not only bolstered her confidence and made the nervousness she’d felt earlier vanish, it left her feeling bold.
She understood now both men wanted her. This could have been just a simple marriage of convenience, a paper record to satisfy all interested parties, but Bradford and Frederick had made it so much more. For the first time in her life, Ilsa felt desired.
“How would you like me?”
Frederick appeared surprised by the question. He gaped at her like a freshly caught fish.
She crossed the room to the bed, pulling open the silk tie at her waist.
“Oh, er, that’s Bradford’s choice.” He hurried over behind her.
Across the bed, Bradford’s blue eyes were darkly hooded. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, fingers tented.
“The rules, and all,” Frederick finished awkwardly.
“Yes, the rules.” One corner of Bradford’s mouth quirked in a sardonic smile. “Missionary position, this time. I think I would like to see my lover straining atop the beautiful body of my future wife.”
Her heart seized. On her back, it would be like the night in the workshop. She swallowed the fear away.
It would not be like that night. Frederick wouldn’t make it so, Bradford wouldn’t let it be.
She pulled her wrapper off her shoulders and let it slip down her arms. She caught it in one hand and draped it over the matching chair on the far side of the bed.
“As you wish, Bradford.” She knelt upon the bed, crawled to the center and laid down.
Frederick shrugged out of his own robe while staring at her. “You are so beautiful, Ilsa.” He tossed it over hers on the chair. Already he was erect, his long shaft nearly reaching his bellybutton. “I’ve never found a woman enticing like I do you. I suspect I’ve never had the inclination to invest the effort in wooing one, and all that. I love Bradford, and everything that he is as a man, but you’ve shown me that I can desire a woman, too. I thank you for offering yourself to me without all the trials and tribulations.”
“Trials and tribulations do not appeal to me, either,” she returned softly.
He knelt on the bed and settled beside her. For a moment he looked down at her, as if deciding what he wanted to touch first.
Despite her best efforts to keep it at bay, the fear came slithering back. Her skin burned under Frederick’s heated gaze, and from the chair, Bradford stared with intense eyes.
“There’s a hardness about him I crave, a solidness that complements me.” His gaze flicked to Bradford and back. “But a softness about you beckons me, a lushness I want to lose myself in. I realize now, you complete us. With you, we have everything.”
Finally he shifted closer, his firm body coming into contact with her side. His hardness pressed against her hip and his fingers glanced across her belly, making her breath skitter. He bent his head to nuzzle her neck and Ilsa closed her eyes, letting her head fall toward Bradford. Immediately painful images flashed over her mind’s eye, and she opened them again to chase them away.
“And I do so enjoy the way you smell.” He buried his nose in her hair.
He traced his fingertips up her ribs to one breast with a barely there caress. His soft words kept her grounded in this room, kept the dark memories from flooding back.
“Bradford said something the other night,” he whispered, turning his head to kiss her collarbone while his fingers danced a path to the other breast, teasing, tickling, but still barely touching. “He said his greatest goal will be to see no harm comes to you ever again. It is my goal as well.”
“Frederick.” She breathed his name on a sigh. She wouldn’t tell him she’d been afraid of him when she first saw him. She’d learned that despite his strong physique, Frederick was fragile, and to hear it would hurt him. She wanted to protect him from harm, too.
“There’s so much I want to do with you tonight.” With you, not to you.
He angled his body over her, planting soft kisses and licks upon her chest, though still barely touching. His gentleness relaxed her and brought her desire to life. She ached to have him touch her nipples, to pinch them and suck them. She closed her eyes again, and this time his tenderness kept the wretched memories away. Created new memories that were precious and wonderful.
Finally he slid his hand over her breast and dragged his fingers together in a gentle squeeze at her nipple. Her lips parted on a whimper.
“Lick me,” she dared command. His warm, wet tongue laved over the peak and drew it into his mouth, both satisfying the ache and heightening it. She dragged in a breath and arched her back. Frederick moved to the neglected nipple, sucking it with a series of tugs that drove her to sweet madness. He stroked the mound, squeezing lightly to test its weight and resiliency. He was exploring her, learning her, and it felt exquisite to be discovered by someone who cherished what he found.
Rustling drew her eyes open. Bradford arranged his bedclothes more comfortably. His gaze met hers and his Adam’s apple rose and fell on a noisy swallow.
Frederick urged her arm over her head and a flash of fear raced over her as she remembered the pain of her stretched arms and bound wrists. But his grasp was gentle and the brush of his lips on the sensitive underside of her arm tickled.
“I want to touch every inch of you,” he whispered. “You’re so soft everywhere.”
She responded with a sigh and let her eyes drift closed again. He rose and kissed her neck, moving toward her ear.
“I want to taste you. May I?”
“Oh yes.”
His body pressed close and his erection touched her thigh.
“The day in the attic…I was afraid I’d offended you.”
“A gentle touch is never an offense.”
“I was too shy to be bold. It was my first time. My only knowledge…the talk I’ve heard.”
“Forget the talk,” she told him. “Follow your instincts.”
He raised himself over her. “I know only man love. I was afraid I didn’t have any instincts.”
She smiled. “Let’s see, shall we?”
Frederick’s tension vanished and Bradford breathed out a noisy sigh, halfway a moan.
“Do you…like it?”
“I do so much, because it feels nice, and because Bradford was the first ever to bestow it.” She urged him on by drawing one leg up and wide. “No one has ever showed me care like you two do.”
Frederick took her cue and moved between her legs. His kisses trailed down, down, down. She closed her eyes with a sigh. His next kiss was placed directly atop her mound.
This was torture. Exquisite, beautiful torture. Bradford tugged his trousers away from his erection, sure they were cutting off the blood supply and it would break off like a chunk of stone.
The real torture would begin when they were finished, and he had an entire day to wait before having her.
He’d asked them to use this position because he wanted to admire Frederick’s lean body. He had a particular fondness for his lover’s broad and muscular back, but the sight of Ilsa captured his attention just as thoroughly, thus befuddling him two-fold. Stretched out as she was, long and curvy, offering herself up like
a wedding cake, she made his mouth water. He’d been so busy spending himself inside her he hadn’t stopped to notice how many wonderful attributes she possessed, and how truly lovely they were.
Frederick, for all his innocence with women, was smart enough to explore her delicate wonders with intense care.
He bent between her spread-wide legs. His tongue swept out to taste her, parting her feminine folds. Bradford nearly swallowed his own tongue. Thank goodness he’d tasted her himself. He hadn’t imagined it brought her so much pleasure, and his greedy indulgence had been a lucky accident that made him slightly less oafish.
Whatever talk he’d heard, Frederick must have been paying attention, and Ilsa’s increasing mewls of delight proved he was as good at orally pleasuring a woman as he was a man. She pushed her hands over her head and crushed the feather pillow into a wad.
Frederick knelt on her opposite side, providing an unobstructed view. He alternated between licks and flicks, sucks and kisses, and the occasional nibble, driving Ilsa’s passion higher and higher. When he sucked on her swollen clit, she cried out.
Her body arched and bucked in climax and her toes curled. “Oh, oh Frederick, oh!” She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Oh.”
Bradford wanted to speak up, to tell Frederick he couldn’t simply mount her now, she needed time to rest and grow eager again. But Frederick only continued his intimate exploration, kissing a path down her thigh to her knee.
When Frederick had knocked on her door tonight Bradford suddenly wished he’d first taken a moment to give his young lover some pointers, having forgotten he was inexperienced with women. But Frederick showed he was neither brute nor cad, and it was Bradford who instead learned a lesson watching him. Frederick had a heightened awareness of her delicateness, and seemed to understand her need for intense gentleness not just because she was a woman, but because she was this woman. Suddenly Bradford felt entirely oafish again.
Frederick sat at the end of the bed, holding her ankle up to kiss the arch of her foot. Ilsa watched him with dreamy eyes. She giggled when he sucked on her little toes.
He picked up the other foot and squeezed her heel with one hand while he rubbed her arch with the thumb of the other.
“Mmmm. You can do that forever.” Her slow moan brought a smile from Frederick.
His traverse up her body was as slow as the journey down. Frederick had always been an intense, needful lover with him, yet with Ilsa he proved to have a patient, serene side as well. After mapping every inch of her body, kissing each rib and dipping his tongue into her bellybutton, he settled himself beside her on the bed and touched her face.
Ilsa turned her head and captured a finger with her lips, and Bradford’s heart nearly exploded. Frederick’s cock was as swollen as Bradford had ever seen it, and he’d leaked so much pre-cum a tear ran down the underside of his tip.
“Frederick, I’m ready for you.”
He shifted on top of her like the most seasoned lover of women and their bodies fitted together, blocking his view of the act to come. But Bradford knew the precise moment Frederick entered her. He didn’t just move his hips, but rotated them and drove upward, and Ilsa tipped her head back and dragged in a breath.
She let it out as Frederick hitched his body higher, driving deeper still. Bradford’s own cock burned with need. Later, Frederick would provide relief. The younger man was mischievous but never cruel, and Bradford ached in a bad way.
He began a slow rocking and Ilsa met the rhythm, uttering soft moans to reveal her pleasure. Their bodies pressed together, curled toward each other like lovers who had adored each other their entire lives. Frederick buried his face in her hair and she pressed her cheek against his neck. Ilsa drew her legs high, elegant feet pointed like a ballet dancer. She clawed at his back, leaving red marks across his muscular planes and providing an alluring show.
“Oh, Frederick, yes, yes.”
“How do you like it?”
Their whispers were now so soft he could barely hear, and their intimacy made his heart ache. He’d seen Frederick’s aversion to social occasions and knew that despite his proud excuses, he felt clumsy and odd around women. He loved to see Frederick feeling confident and eager, enjoying himself inside Ilsa.
And Ilsa, what a change he’d witnessed in her in so short a time. She’d been shy and afraid when she first came here, yet glimpses of her inner strength had shown through from the moment he’d propositioned her on the street. Now she shined, both giving herself and demanding of Frederick at the same time. When she was fully healed, she would be a passionate lover indeed. Again, Bradford thanked the stars he’d found her, for not only had he rescued this enchanting damsel in distress, she’d rescued him.
“Deep, like this,” she answered Frederick. He humped her slowly, but with powerful thrusts. “Empty yourself…as deeply inside me…as you can.”
Bradford chewed on his lower lip, knowing exactly how exquisite that felt. His breath rasped hotly and his throat was dry. This task had been both a good idea and a horrid one. He pressed a hand to his throbbing erection through the too-many layers of his bedclothes. His need was like a powerful itch and his hand only made it worse.
Frederick uttered something unintelligible and Ilsa replied with sounds of her own.
The cords in Frederick’s back flexed as he rose with each languorous thrust, finishing each stroke with a jerk of his hips. His arms bulged, each muscle exquisitely defined. His skin glowed with a sheen of sweat. Ilsa was like smooth cream, her womanly flesh rippling under each plunge of Frederick’s hips. Bradford couldn’t decide which was more beautiful to him and he realized that together, they were magnificent by tenfold. His vision blurred.
Ilsa screamed out her ecstasy, then again a second and third time, until her cries turned soundless. Frederick grunted twice, then he too fell silent.
Finally they were still, tight against each other. Ilsa’s face was pink and her hair a luxuriant, golden mess around her head.
Bradford released his cock and realized there was a sticky mess in his trousers. He would never survive until tomorrow.
She turned her head toward him, though with eyes closed, and sighed.
“Was I better this time?”
A smile touched her lips. “I think Frederick is not as innocent as he claims.”
Frederick laughed. “I think Ilsa flatters me.”
Bradford’s heart gave a kick. They were talking to him as if they felt bad he was left out of the fun. And dammit, he was feeling left out.
Ilsa opened her eyes. “Bradford, are you well? You look ill.”
“I feel as though I’ve been knocked over the head with a tree branch.”
She stared at him, then burst out laughing.
Frederick gasped. “You do realize I’m still inside you.”
“I cannot feel anything below my bellybutton.”
“I was that bad?”
“You were that good.”
He grinned. “Technically, this means we’re not finished.”
“Never mind me,” Bradford said. “While I die here in this chair.”
“Fear not, Bradford. I’ll do my best to ease your pain later.”
“You’re damn right you will.”
Frederick eased backward and fell on the bed beside her. She shifted onto her side, facing Bradford.
“Tell me, how do we compare?” Frederick asked her. “As lovers, I mean.”
Ilsa bent her arm and rested her head on her elbow. She glanced over Frederick at him. “You’re both different men, with a different touch.”
“So if we blindfolded you and one of us took you, you would know which one?”
“I think I would, yes. Each of you has a different touch, a different scent.” Her eyes twinkled. “He’s thicker, you’re longer.”
Frederick chuckled. “And I suppose he’s more skilled.”
Ilsa sat up. “You lack nothing, Frederick. Truly.” She rose from the bed and donned her wrapper. Frederic
k propped his head on a hand and watched her. Bradford watched them both, dying of thirst and hunger.
She flipped her hair free of her wrapper and faced them. He could tell by her expression she was searching for the right words.
“You have been wonderful to me,” she started carefully. “In fact before coming here, I had never experienced womanly pleasure from the act. You have both…given me lovely pleasure.” She smiled bashfully, conveying her thanks more directly than any words could.
“I’m glad,” Bradford croaked. He cleared his throat. “There would be no pleasure for me if there weren’t also for you.”
“Oh yes, he’s right,” Frederick hurried to say. “That’s absolutely true.”
“Good night, gentlemen.”
“Don’t bid Frederick good night,” Bradford said roughly. “His evening is just beginning.”
* * * * *
Bradford shed his clothes and wiped himself clean with a damp cloth. He retrieved the bottle of oil from the dresser chest and strode toward the bed. Frederick lay sprawled across the center, grinning like a fool.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself.”
“Bradford, if you didn’t like the rules, you never should have agreed to them.”
“On the contrary, your idea was brilliant.” He flipped his hand. “Ilsa needs to be coddled, if you will. She’s injured. Injuries heal slowly. But when treated properly, they often heal as good as new.” He set the bottle on the small table beside the bed and straddled Frederick. “Forcing her to accept us both before she’s ready would be like forcing a lame horse to run. The injury would become permanent.”
“So you understand my plan.”
“Understand it, and agree with it.” He took himself in hand. “But it’s killing me all the same.”
Frederick sat up, placing his face inches from Bradford’s cock. “As tomorrow night it will be killing me.” He glanced at Bradford’s straining organ, then back to his eyes. “And you will be there to give me relief afterward?”
“I’ll return the favor, yes.”
Frederick smiled. “You know I’ll never hold back from you, Bradford.” He licked the tip, moaning happily at the taste. “Would you like me to suck you, or do you prefer to spend yourself in my ass?”
Saving Lady Ilsa Page 11
