Saving Lady Ilsa

by Crystal Kauffman

  She sucked in her breath when he stroked the length of her outer lips with his oily fingers.

  “No need to apologize. I’ll confess I’ve been in a state of eagerness most of the day myself.”

  He slid a finger inside her. A flood of slick cream proved she told the truth.

  “Perhaps I can offer a promise of extreme tenderness at a later time. You enjoyed having your feet rubbed. A bargain, if I may.” He slid his finger in and out, rubbing the slick glide of flesh guiding the path inside her body. “I skip all pretenses tonight and simply bury myself in you, and someday soon I rub your feet until you fall asleep.”

  “Oooh, Bradford.” She dropped her head and arched her back, rocking to the rhythm of his finger. “It sounds as if the bargain is in my favor.”

  He was nearly blind with need. “Then without further ado…” He took his cock in his hand and aimed it at her center. He gripped her hips and thrust, breaching her resistance.

  “Ooh.” There was a pleased ring to her voice as his swollen tip passed inside her. Her pussy was tight, but wet and welcoming. He hesitated before pushing forward slowly and steadily. As eager as he was for release, he wanted to enjoy this as long as he could. Moving inside her felt like rubbing himself with a satin glove warmed by the sun. No, a thousand times better than that.

  “Ilsa.” He slid to the hilt and held himself fast. “You are a generous lover.”

  Bradford bucked with his hips, moving neither in nor out, but simply nudging. He’d needed to feel himself gloved inside her so badly that all day his every other thought was befuddled. It had gotten so bad he could hardly answer a question with any amount of intelligence. Now, finally seating himself deep in her body, the relief was like being reborn.

  He drew nearly all the way out, tugging against the tight clench of muscle that trapped the engorged head of his cock. He thrust back inside her and immediately felt the growing heat of climax. He didn’t even care that he was about to embarrass himself in front of Frederick. He simply needed to satisfy the itch of longing too badly.

  When he held himself fast again, trying to prolong it, Ilsa glanced over her shoulder.

  “Again,” she whispered. “Harder.”

  There weren’t too many “again, harders” in his immediate future, yet he obliged. As badly as he wanted climax, he wanted her to have it too. She arched her back in response and pushed her hips backward to meet him. The slickness of her juices made wonderful slurping sounds.

  “Dear God,” Frederick muttered.

  “Yes, Bradford, yes!” She pushed back to meet his thrusts, but he was already spurting inside her. “Don’t stop!”

  She wrung him dry but he continued pounding into her until he became too flaccid to do much good. At the last thrust he could manage, he halted, breath heaving. He groaned something useless and indecipherable as he dismounted her and collapsed on the bed. She lifted her leg and flopped down beside him, and Frederick sat up.

  “That was the most amazing sight I have ever beheld.” He shoved his arms through the sleeves of his shirt and fell into the chair beside the bed. His face was flushed and his pupils dilated, his pulse beating a rapid throb in his neck. “Simply amazing.”

  “I am sorry my own performance was lacking.” Bradford circled her with his arms.

  “Not at all,” she whispered, and it pleased him the way she leaned back into his embrace and turned her face up to press her cheek to his lips.

  “I’ve never realized just how delicate women were,” Frederick said. “But you took all of him so enthusiastically. It makes me wonder…”

  “What?” she asked dreamily, settling on Bradford’s pillow.

  “Nothing.” Frederick smiled. “That was truly a wonderful gift for us both, Ilsa. Thank you.”

  “Hmmm. My pleasure.”

  “I think the pleasure was all mine,” Bradford said again, mortified she hadn’t received her womanly climax.

  “Bradford,” she said simply, and caressed his arm where it circled her.

  Frederick stared at them with misty eyes. “I wish I were a painter. You two look so beautiful together. There is nothing lovelier than a person wearing the afterglow of sex.”

  “How do you feel?” Bradford asked her.

  “A tad sore, but it’s a nice soreness.”

  “I think he means do you feel as though you passed this test?” Frederick informed her.

  “Ah, yes. I forgot. It is I who must decide.” She sighed and closed her eyes. Bradford waited a heartbeat before nudging her.

  “Ilsa!”

  She smiled. “Hmmm? Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, I passed.”

  * * * * *

  The docks at dawn smelled as foul as an old whore’s cunny and the five pound notes in his pocket were burning through Dietrich’s clothes to his skin. He hated to spend a single shilling on that stupid tramp. He glanced around nervously, sure he was being followed by a pickpocket, or worse. There weren’t many out at this time of the morning and he’d purposely worn old, faded clothes. Still, he knew his natural grace carried an air of refinement here at the docks that made him a target.

  That dandy Stratton sure had his nerve. Those poppy-cocks all thought they could do whatever they wanted and take whatever they wanted and nobody would ever hold them responsible. He’d like to take a whip to that fancy man just as much as he wanted to take it to Ilsa.

  When he got his hands on her, Ilsa was going to regret running out on him. He’d never taken a whip to her, but now he planned to, keenly. He’d always struck her where the bruises wouldn’t show, keeping his displeasure private. It wouldn’t do to have his neighbors know how much he hated her. But now he’d make sure an offense like this never happened again. He’d nobble her face, he would. Smash her nose, maybe even a deep scar across her cheek. He’d make sure her pussy was all that ever interested a man, but none would want her for anything more than a five minute sweat.

  The problem with Katrin was Ilsa’s fault, really. If she had born him a son like she was supposed to, he’d never have stuck it in that little slut. Never have been desperate enough to be fooled by her.

  Ilsa would spend the rest of her life on her back, making him the son she was supposed to, or he’d see to it she died trying.

  He entered the large workshop at the end of Hark Street. The Rund brothers were working in the far corner, pounding out a racket on some strange-looking frame. Joseph White, their older cousin or some sort of relation, looked up and noticed him first. He thumped Igor on the shoulder, stopping the hammering. Fagler put down his hammer next.

  Joseph offered a tip of his head. “Kilgard.”

  “I have business with Igor,” he said in English. He only needed one man. The fewer he had to pay the better, and one man would call less attention than these three together.

  Joseph regarded him. He seemed to consider it, then crooked his head to dismiss them both. He turned to the strange apparatus they were building and went back to whacking the spike he was driving deep. There was a chain on the spike with a cuff at the end. Dietrich gave a silent snort. He knew what the apparatus was for. They were probably building it for a whorehouse, or some rich bastard with perverted needs.

  He walked back to the front of the shop and stopped when he was sure they were out of earshot.

  “I want to hire you for a job.”

  Igor regarded him warily. “Whot kind of job?” He dragged the back of his hand under his nose.

  “Ilsa has been taken by a fop. I want her back.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You mean she’s run off.”

  “She was sent there, but kept against my wishes.” Dietrich gave him a look. “You know what I mean.”

  “Hmph.”

  “I will pay you well.”

  “I just spent three months in gaol at Woolrich. I ain’t lookin’ to go back.”

  Dietrich knew this meant, how much?

  “I’ll pay you five pounds now and five more when we retrieve her.” On impulse he’d doubled wh
at he intended to pay. He didn’t like the reluctance in the ogre’s expression.

  Igor stayed silent.

  “I need her taken to my house in Walton. No one will find her there, so no one will know you had a part in it.” He waited a heartbeat. “I’ll let you have as much of her as you want…” He glanced to the back of the shop where the others were pounding away on their bizarre machine. “And this time you don’t have to share.”

  Igor’s ruddy face split into a smile.

  “You can come and go as you please.” Dietrich shrugged. “I want her knapped, so you can have as much as you want, for as long as it takes.”

  A wicked light gleamed in the ogre’s eye. “Let’s see the money.”

  Dietrich dug the wad out of his pocket and handed it over. He felt a lurch in his gut and his anger for Ilsa tripled. No matter, Igor wouldn’t care if she was bruised or bloody.

  The big man shoved the money into his overalls. He took a deep breath and grunted.

  “I’ll pick you up in a hackney tomorrow, first light,” Dietrich told him.

  Chapter Nine

  The day before the wedding was nothing like the previous day. Though the wedding was to take place at the village church, the house was abuzz with excitement and Bradford found himself pulled in all directions by those tending to one preparation or another.

  Despite his broken wrist, Willoughby had come to the house with his nephew who followed the master tailor’s every stern instruction with expertise as the old man leaned over his shoulder and scrutinized each stitch. It took nearly four hours but Willoughby was finally happy with Bradford’s wedding suit.

  Ilsa had been absent most of the day as well, in fittings for her dress, overseeing Lady Waxford’s many preparations and receiving visitors from around the region bearing gifts. They saw each other briefly over lunch, and other than a few secret, knowing glances that passed between them, Bradford felt they might have been separated on opposite sides of a grand ballroom.

  His tension was not only caused by the looming ceremony, but by his apprehension for the night’s test. He had no doubt she’d go through with the wedding tomorrow regardless of her feelings, but would she stay after the fact? What would she think seeing him together with Frederick?

  He couldn’t bear it if she were repulsed. He wanted them to be a marriage of three so badly. The idea of losing her was unthinkable. By late afternoon he was glum with dread.

  If she couldn’t tolerate them, she would have to leave. There was no losing Frederick. He’d long ago made a lifetime commitment to his lover and he’d never go back on it. If Ilsa left, he’d simply have to settle for madness.

  Thankfully nobody kept him long after dinner. Bradford all but ran up the stairs. He found Frederick soaking in the bath and sipping a nearly empty brandy.

  He glanced at Bradford, balancing the glass on the edge of the tub. “Bradford, for God’s sake, relax. Give the woman her credit due.”

  Frederick’s statement only confirmed he was as nervous as Bradford.

  He quickly undressed and dragged his robe over his shoulders as he strode across the room to the adjoining door. He gave a quick knock. “Ilsa, it’s Bradford. May I have a word?”

  He heard a rustling from within. “Of course.”

  He entered to see her set down the book she’d been reading and rise from the bed. Her attention perked and she seemed alarmed by his urgency. Her attire of full bedclothes proved she was ready for the evening to begin, tonight her turn to watch. Whether she was ready for it to finish was another question altogether.

  He settled back and tried to calm his demeanor. “I’ve a small request for tonight, if I may.”

  She stopped a distance away and clasped her hands together. “Of course. Name it.”

  He suddenly didn’t know how to say what he needed to. “If tonight…that is, if you decide you cannot bear to watch…if we do something you cannot tolerate…please do not flee the room. Simply say ‘stop’ and we’ll cease immediately.”

  Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled. “Fear not, Bradford.” She nodded, understanding his need for her to agree. “I’ll do so.”

  A weight lifted off him as well.

  “I’ve anticipated this will be the easiest of my tests.” She closed the distance between them. “I’m not shy.”

  He took her hands when she reached out to him. “Don’t make such a claim until you’ve seen with your own eyes.”

  Her gaze slipped away. “You’ve been so generous with me. It would be unforgivable if I were not the same way with you.”

  “I daresay this is not quite the same.”

  “Shall I join you in there?” Frederick called with a note of impatience.

  “No, no. We’re coming.” Bradford gave her hand a squeeze and let her through the adjoining door.

  Frederick had toweled off but was otherwise naked. He slipped into the bed and stretched out across the sheets. His cock stood tall, laying across his abdomen. “Since we got to choose the position the other took with her, does that mean Ilsa gets to choose our position tonight?”

  She stopped, bringing him to a stop as well. “Oh, no, I’ve no preference.”

  She was bashful tonight and Bradford feared she was putting on a brave front for his benefit.

  “Truly, I don’t know what to suggest. I’ve no experience in such matters.”

  Bradford turned to him. “I’ve asked Ilsa to stop us if we do anything that makes her uncomfortable.”

  Ilsa released his hand and stepped closer to the bed. “Bradford, Frederick, I’m here tonight under your good graces to share in something I understand is precious to you. Honestly, I’m an intruder here—”

  He touched her shoulder. “No, no.”

  “My point is…” She took a deep breath. “There is nothing you can do that will offend me, because it isn’t my right to be offended. What you have together is magical. Your offering to share it with me is the most generous gift anyone has ever given me.”

  Frederick stroked his long cock lazily. “What a nice thing to say.”

  “If you must have a request from me…” Ilsa’s voice fell to a whisper. “Let it be that you show me that which you most want me to see.”

  She couldn’t have spoken a more perfect sentiment. His heart swelled with love. Bradford decided at that moment he would not allow her to leave. If he had to beg, bribe or barter, he would keep her here.

  He slipped off his robe and tossed it over the opposite chair as he strode around the bed.

  “Wait.” Ilsa still stood in front of the plush chair she would watch from. She clasped her hands together, then wrung them with nervousness. Bradford’s heart wouldn’t beat until she spoke.

  “I must tell you, I have already seen…that is, I witnessed something I was not supposed to.”

  He searched his memory for whatever she might be referring to.

  “I’m sorry, Bradford. I didn’t mean to peek. That first day Frederick returned, I only wanted to tell you I wouldn’t serve as a problem between you. But the door was closed and I heard your voices and before I could stop myself I realized the keyhole is quite large…”

  Her face turned red and her eyes had the telltale shininess of tears to come.

  “Blast. There is no excuse. I feel like such a villain.”

  He burst out laughing. He couldn’t help himself, she sounded so earnest. It really was quite funny. Ilsa froze and stared at him as if he were daft. He rounded the bed to her again and gently took her by the arms. “Ilsa. No apologies.”

  Her gaze slid to Frederick, and she did anyway. “Frederick, I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Honestly, I rather like the idea. I’ve been saying all along, you’re perfect for us. This just proves it. You’ve got a naughty side and I’m quite glad.” He grinned at Bradford. “Our Ilsa is a voyeur.”

  She cringed and brought her palms to her cheeks. “Oh.”

  Bradford laughed again. “I’ll be honest too and confess I placed you in
this room because of its convenience to my own. I have no one to blame but myself. I knew the keyhole is large enough to fit a cup of tea through.”

  She finally seemed appeased. She glanced down, only to see his naked cock rising like a lance. “I was not offended then, nor will I be offended now.”

  Tickled. That was another word Ilsa had brought into his life. He felt positively tickled inside.

  “Do you hear that Bradford? Get over here before I die of want.”

  She smiled. “I’ll not give reason for further delay.” Ilsa sat in the chair, toed off her slippers and brought her feet up beneath herself.

  Frederick rose to his knees as Bradford circled to his side of the bed once more. He knelt on the mattress and eased into Frederick’s embrace. Their cocks brushed together, equally tall in their eagerness. Strong hands gripped his arms and he fell into Frederick’s kiss, tasting the familiar flavor of his lover with grand relief.

  He closed his eyes to the sound of Ilsa’s deep breath.

  From the first instant, their passionate love was evident.

  Dark-haired Bradford, with his eyes closed and long lashes fanned over his cheekbones, was the most handsome creature she’d ever laid eyes upon. He opened his mouth and met Frederick’s equally wanton kiss with his tongue. He was so beautiful, and watching him kiss was amazing.

  Heat rushed through her. She wished he would kiss her like that. She dashed away a surge of regret. Neither of them had ever kissed her.

  But they would. Someday, she could be a part of this. She tingled at the thought of tomorrow; her wedding and her wedding night, in which she would take them both inside her body at the same time.

  One in my ass and one in my pussy, she recalled in Frederick’s words. A thrill of excitement raced through her.

  If she could stay—and she wanted to with all her heart—someday there would be love just as strong between them all. Someday, they would kiss her like that.