Her stomach flip-flopped. Fucking them both would not be easy and would probably bring pain. Can I endure it, for this? Heavens, she hoped so. The alternative was loneliness. Ilsa suddenly understood loneliness was a death sentence. To share her life with these two men was to live.
And if there was pain, it would not be accompanied by horror. It would simply be her body stretched to the very limit by these two wonderful men who treated her like a princess. They’d given her so much. She would give them herself in return and she would pass that challenge, just as she had passed the others, just as she would pass this one tonight. A thrill of excitement zinged through her at the thought.
Bradford slid his hands around Frederick’s back and Frederick placed his even lower, grabbing Bradford’s muscled ass. A low sound came from Bradford. They eased apart, breaking their kiss. They stared into each other’s eyes as Frederick reached down and grasped Bradford’s cock. He dragged his squeezing fist up and down. Bradford took hold of Frederick’s cock and returned the touch.
They looked so incredible together, both men cut with muscle the firelight played shadows and highlights across. Frederick was the smaller, and beside Bradford, his youth was pronounced just as Bradford’s regal maturity was exemplified.
Frederick eased to the left and lay down, a silent cue to which Bradford responded. He settled on the mattress and lay beside Frederick in the opposite direction.
Ilsa’s heart leapt. She sat higher in the chair to see them better.
Bradford rose onto his elbow and bent over Frederick’s hips. With a hand he guided Frederick’s cock to his mouth and licked the tip. Frederick bent his head between Bradford’s parted thighs and sucked the engorged head into his mouth, pumping Bradford’s shaft with his hand.
It looked rather rough to Ilsa, but Bradford groaned and swallowed Frederick’s length with inspired hunger. Frederick’s cock was longer than his own, but Bradford was able to take him deep into his throat.
She thought back to her lesson three nights ago and a twinge of embarrassment accompanied her realization she was woefully inadequate at the art of fellatio. Bradford’s ejaculate hadn’t tasted at all bad, and she vowed to do better next time. She would become an expert.
Both men moved against each other as their ecstasy built. Slurping sounds arose from both men’s mouths that made tingles rush across her skin.
There was nothing emasculating about their act. If anything, Bradford and Frederick appeared more manly in their confidence and unabashed love for each other. The taut muscles in Bradford’s side flexed and bulged and Frederick’s back was a lean network of straining muscle and tendon.
Bradford leaned back. “Frederick, stop. I want to come inside you.”
Ilsa’s breath was tight and the confirmation she would get to see them fuck made her giddy.
Frederick stopped sucking and lay his head down on the mattress, though he continued to stroke Bradford lightly and squeeze his balls. His cock glistened with Frederick’s saliva.
Bradford pushed Frederick flat to the mattress and rose over him. He braced himself on his elbows and was able to use both hands on Frederick, squeezing and pumping while he sucked the length of his now-purpled cock deeply in and out.
Ilsa could see Frederick’s nearing climax in the way the cords tightened in his hips and the way he tossed his head back and forth. He uttered an oath halfway between a grunt and a word, gripping fistfuls of bed linen. Bradford slowed but seemed to intensify his sucking until Frederick let out an agonized cry. Finally both men went still, their bodies relaxed.
Bradford had swallowed Frederick’s pleasure, not even spilling a drop. He released him, circling the tip once with his tongue.
“How do you want me?” Frederick asked him.
Bradford glanced at her. “Ilsa?”
“Like you did before.” She was so breathless she was surprised she could speak. “Mount him from behind.” Her cheeks burned at the daring words. She wanted to see everything she missed through her narrow keyhole portal, in vivid and up-close detail.
“Onto your knees,” he instructed Frederick.
The younger man rolled over and drew his legs beneath himself.
“Shift a bit,” Bradford told him. “So Ilsa can see.”
Frederick angled his body slightly so she was looking at his ass, cheeks spread wide, cock and balls dangling between his opened thighs. His impossibly tiny arsehole was puckered and pink.
“Is this how you will take me?” she asked.
Bradford’s eyes were dark with lust. “You’ll be between us. I’ll be in front, and Frederick will be behind you like this. But tomorrow will be much different. We will both move slowly and gently, and once we’ve penetrated you, only you will move.”
She settled back into the chair, lightheaded. “Oh.”
Ilsa swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She was not afraid. Instead, she was eager to place her smooth body between their masculine ones and become part of this beauty.
“I’m used to it.” Frederick leaned forward to retrieve the bottle of oil from the bedside table and handed it to Bradford. “I crave his strength and power captivating me. Just like you, when you begged for me to fuck you harder. But I wager no woman does so on her first time.”
“No, you’re right.”
Bradford poured a stream of oil into his hand and spread it liberally between Frederick’s cheeks. Frederick sighed at the touch. He glanced over his shoulder. “The pleasure from this act is a learned sensation, and one you must grow accustomed to.”
“And one that is reserved for special occasions,” Bradford added.
“Had you ever…” Ilsa stopped, afraid she’d nearly asked an inappropriate question. If either of them had previous lovers, it might be a tender subject.
Bradford looked at her. “Were we each other’s first lover?”
She blushed again and merely nodded.
He had his cock in hand and was sliding the tip up and down through Frederick’s oiled crease.
“Frederick was a virgin when I met him. I was not.”
Her heart was hammering at these daring questions. “I suppose we have something in common, then.” She gave a nervous laugh.
“And I’m so glad you were both my first lovers, each in your own way,” Frederick breathed out. He began rocking his hips in time with Bradford’s touches.
“Does it hurt?” she dared ask. She had to know. It had looked so violent before.
“Sometimes rough is good.” Frederick kept his eyes closed. “Sometimes soft is better. I’m sure you know what I mean.”
She swallowed. “Yes.” Two weeks ago, she never could have admitted such a thing. Two weeks ago, she never would have believed such a thing.
Frederick moaned. “The preparation is so important.” His words were spoken over breathy sighs. “He stimulates me until I crave to be filled. Tomorrow I’ll do the same to you.”
“I think I will like that,” she whispered.
“Bradford is an excellent lover.” Frederick rocked his body backward as if trying to urge Bradford inside him. “He knows just how to touch me until I want to beg for him. And then he continues, until I do beg.”
“Do you ever…switch roles?”
“We do,” Bradford answered immediately. “Because the relationship is not complete unless it is equal.”
“But this is the way we both prefer it.” Frederick hung his head. “Bradford, I’m ready. Please, take me.”
Bradford continued to swirl his cock around Frederick’s puckered hole. With the other hand, he stroked his young lover’s back.
“Please, Bradford. Now.”
He gripped Frederick’s hips and drove forward. A low gasp escaped Frederick. “Ah, God.”
She watched them with awe as Bradford began a slow humping and Frederick responded with a slow rocking. They moved together with such attuned intimacy. Bradford’s body was a tightly wound mass of muscle and Frederick appeared helpless to his plunder as Bradford held
him by the hips. Fucking a man was different than fucking a woman, she realized, as he didn’t at once fill Frederick with all of himself, but instead slowly nudged deeper and deeper until Frederick was fully penetrated. Once finally buried to the hilt, Bradford held fast inside Frederick, letting the younger man grow accustomed to the intrusion as he also appeared to languish in it.
He withdrew to half-mast slowly and with a sharp buck of his hips, drove forcefully back inside. Frederick uttered a sound of affirmation, not a word or a sigh or a cry, but a mixture of all three. They began a rhythm like this—a slow, easy withdrawal followed by a powerful thrust.
Emotions assaulted her from all sides. She hadn’t imagined Bradford could be any more handsome in her eyes, but watching him captivate Frederick so powerfully and absolutely turned him into a roguish conqueror. Sometimes proud and cocky, beneath Bradford’s demands Frederick appeared humbled in his submission and she admired him all the more for it.
Frederick’s body shook under each thrust and smacking sounds rose as flesh slapped against flesh.
“Oh God, fuck me, Bradford. Yes! Fuck me.”
Bradford responded with an oath. He gripped Frederick’s hips and slammed in and out of his body. He signaled his release with a shout and Frederick groaned as his body was filled with Bradford’s cum.
Their chests heaved and each man’s skin glowed with sweat.
Bradford withdrew slowly. She watched, awestruck, as his long, thick cock emerged, still hard. Had Frederick really fit all of him into his ass? Tomorrow, would she?
Frederick breathed out a groan as he was vacated and collapsed onto his side. Bradford held himself over Frederick on all fours and kissed him tenderly. Frederick looked as weak and helpless as a baby, but he smiled when Bradford eased away.
“That was amazing. Who knew it was such fun to be watched?”
Bradford laughed and glanced at her. His expression immediately turned to concern. “Ilsa?”
Her eyes stung and tears spilled over.
“Ilsa, are you all right?”
“I am perfectly all right.” She turned and walked to the door, hesitating to look back at them. “You are so beautiful together. I…I envy what you have. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
* * * * *
Saturday morning the rainclouds parted and sunshine gleamed off the freshly washed landscape. The stone church glowed in a glistening meadow dotted with late summer flowers. Ilsa’s gown was demure for a wedding dress, yet the copper satin and crinoline confection was still the prettiest thing she’d ever seen.
Lady Waxford stood beside her before the mirror in the small preparation room adjacent to the chapel. A passel of maids from the earl’s manor attended to the smallest details with fretful care.
“You’re beautiful, Mrs. Stratton.” The older woman’s eyes misted.
Mrs. Stratton. Ilsa smiled at her reflection. She had better get used to that form of address. Bradford’s wife.
A knock sounded on the door. One of the maids clucked a scolding at Frederick, but stood back to allow him entry.
“Ilsa, you’re lovely.” He strode over and kissed her cheek. “A gift Bradford wanted you to have before the ceremony.” He handed her a velvet-covered box. She caught her breath, but Frederick only gave a wink and hastened away.
Inside was an extravagant string of gray pearls and two drop earrings. “Oh my heavens.”
“Goodness. They’re exquisite,” Lady Waxford exclaimed.
A folded note accompanied the jewels.
My dearest bride, these pearls belonged to my mother. It would please me if you would wear them, so that she may be with us in spirit on this special day. Your loving groom, Bradford.
She adorned the earrings and let Lady Waxford affix the necklace. “What a special gift.”
“He’s a special man.”
“No crying now. You’ll make your eyes all red and puffy.” She handed Ilsa a kerchief.
The earl walked her down the aisle where Bradford and Frederick waited at the pulpit. The pastor’s wife attended as her lady-in-waiting. She stood beside Bradford and faced the pastor.
“Thank you, Bradford,” she whispered. “They’re beautiful.”
He smiled down at her. “I didn’t even notice them.”
Thankfully the ceremony was short. When the pastor concluded the rite, he bid them to kiss to sanctify their union. Bradford placed a chaste kiss upon her lips.
The room seemed to spin. She was married! It hardly seemed real that this wonderful man was her husband.
Ilsa smiled at the first guests in the long visiting line of attendees, but her smile was for herself as she thought of the nights to come. She would spend the rest of her life warming Bradford’s bed, entertaining him and Frederick as much as they entertained her. Her life felt so perfect, and she couldn’t believe she had resisted joining with them at first. At this moment, she couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do.
The visiting line stretched all the way to the front of the church. They were congratulated, hugged and kissed and bestowed with a mountain of good wishes.
“Tonight is a special night,” Bradford said privately. “I hardly believe it’s finally arrived.”
“Nor do I,” she said mischievously.
“Are you up to it?” He nodded and thanked a neighbor.
“Anxiously so,” she answered, and received a kiss on the cheek from the wife of a farmer who worked the shire on Bradford’s property. She noted his smile grew as he accepted another handshake.
Finally the long line ended with Lord and Lady Waxford, and the church pastor and his wife.
“Where are you two off to celebrate your nuptials?” the pastor’s wife asked.
“To Aberystwyth, to a cottage Bradford owns there,” Ilsa told her.
“How lovely.” The woman beamed.
“But I must find the water closet first. Would you please show me the way?”
The woman led her through the back of the church and pointed to the small outbuilding across a small open area where Bradford’s carriage and two horses were tethered. “I’m afraid it’s not elegant. If you prefer, I can find you a chamber pot.”
Ilsa smiled. The woman had no idea just how inelegant she was used to.
“My need is rather pressing. This will do.” She hurried to the small building and immediately wished she’d brought a candle. It mattered not. She was about to burst. Thankfully, though dark and probably home to many spiders, it was clean and without odor. Relief had never felt so good. If she waited too long, she usually ended up with cramps and a slight burning sensation for a few days.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t experienced cramps in a very long time. She usually got them every month… When was the last time she’d menstruated? Ilsa did a quick calculation. July 26th she’d had to hurry home from the full moon harvest fair and that had been over six weeks ago.
She giggled and covered her mouth with her gloved hand. She could usually draw a calendar by her female time every twenty-eight days. Sometimes it came early, but it never came late.
Could it be…?
Since Katrin’s arrival eight months ago, Dietrich hadn’t touched her, so if she were breeding, it could only be Bradford’s. She giggled again. Bradford’s, or Frederick’s. No, it was most certainly Bradford’s, given their frequent activities on her first days at Stratton house. Either way, what joy of joys! All of her dreams were coming true.
What a wonderful wedding gift she could give back to him. It was still too soon to tell, so she probably shouldn’t say anything yet, but this would be hard to keep a secret. They would wonder why she was perpetually grinning.
She arranged her clothing and ran from the outbuilding, only to stop short. Her stomach swooped as her mind refused to acknowledge the man standing before her.
“Foolish woman. You’re not worth the trouble you cause.” Dietrich glared at her with pure hatred.
Ilsa sucked in a breath to scream. A solid figure impacted
her from behind and clamped a hand over mouth. A thick arm circled her middle, yanking her off her feet.
A long ago but horrifyingly familiar stench sent her world wheeling off kilter.
No, not again!
Chapter Ten
“We’ll be in Aberystwyth for a week, possibly two.” Bradford closed the carriage door and his father peered out through the open window.
“Take three, dear boy. Take a month, if you need it. It’s your honeymoon. Nothing is so pressing it can’t wait.”
Bradford laughed. “Perhaps I will.” He stepped back and waved as the carriage rolled away.
Frederick gave him a hearty smack on the shoulder. “Congratulations, old boy. You’re married.”
“That I am. Where has my bride gone off to?”
“The water closet.” Frederick chuckled. “You know women and their needs. My sister has to stop four times on the ride from our summer home to London.”
“Well let’s go collect her. I feel as though I’ve waited my whole life for tonight to arrive.”
Frederick laughed as they walked back to the church. “I know you’re anxious, but if my sister is any indication, women don’t like to be rushed in such matters.”
The church was now vacant. They passed through the anterooms in the back and out the back door. An empty courtyard greeted them.
Bradford was struck numb. “Where the blazes is my carriage?”
A moan called their attention to a wooden trough behind the tethered horses. Buckles rose to his feet, holding his head. Blood seeped between his fingers. They ran across the lot and caught him before he fell.
“Bloody hell!”
“What happened, man?”
“They took Ilsa,” he managed.
Bradford’s heart seized. “Who has?”
Buckles brought his hand away and swayed at the sight of his own blood. “Two of ‘em, at least. They pulled a trick ‘n drop on me. An old man…and I got a quick look at the burly one ‘cocked me from behind.”
“Kilgard,” Bradford growled.
“The old tailor?” Frederick asked, aghast. “What could he possibly want with Ilsa?”
Saving Lady Ilsa Page 14
