by Ciar Cullen
“You have given me everything I need.”
Dread built and tears poured down her cheeks. “Simon, you are good and I love you. I will not marry you without telling you what you wish to know. Only promise me one thing.”
“Yes?” He sat and looked stunned.
“Promise me, on your love for me, on the souls of your dear parents, that you will not hate me.”
“I killed Lester.” She held out her hand as he took in his breath. “I did not plunge the blade into his back, but I am the cause of his death. I should have come to you, to another, or fled the countryside rather than stay with him. But others killed him to save me from his beatings. I cannot say who it was, but I am sure you should forgive them and blame me.”
“I blame myself, Raven.” Simon took her hand. “I should have protected you from harm. I did not know, perhaps did not want to know. I certainly had no idea that Cecelia was also a victim of the man. I spoke with Adrian today. I know the truth of the matter. We will not speak of it again, unless you would like to tell me more. Cecelia may also speak of it to me if she needs to, and I will listen. But there is no blame except on Lester’s soul.”
Gwyneth fell to her knees before her love. “You are a good man, Simon.”
“I am vile.” He snickered. “Let us change the subject to happier ones. I have thought throughout the day of our times together. I thought of the times we shall have, starting with this night.”
“Ah, yes, there is that. And I will uphold my end of the bargain.” She found herself giggling nervously, in relief that she had shared the truth with her betrothed, and in anticipation of satisfying his request.
“Good, then. Go to the cellar in an hour. We will have our fun, will we not, Gwyn? You must see me at my vilest before you marry me. Adrian advised me so.” He looked at her slyly and winked.
“The cellar, sir? Is that necessary?”
He merely smiled and left her to gaze upon a mound of silk and velvet dresses.
An hour later, heart beating and perspiration beading on her lip, Gwyneth made her way carefully down the slippery steps to the cellar that had served as a dungeon in olden days. She heard the murmur of male voices and dropped her candle, cursing.
From the darkness, she heard Simon’s voice. “You are on time.”
“Aye, it seems you’ve chosen well, Simon. Beautiful and prompt.” Patric’s boyish laughter filled the dank darkness.
“Step out of your clothing, Lady,” Patric ordered.
“Simon?” she asked. There was no answer.
She pulled off her shoes and stepped onto the cold stone floor, feeling chills and wondering if hideous creatures would nibble at her toes. She pulled down her dress and chemise and stood naked and fearful in the dark.
The sound of flint on stone echoed lightly. A torch flared to life. Shadows bounced off the wet grey walls and she saw only Patric, golden curls shimmering in the flickering light, blue eyes dancing in amusement.
“So very beautiful.” Patric motioned her to the wall. Gwyneth pulled back at the sight of shackles and chains.
“No, no, Lady! That is my game, not your good Lord’s. If you would like a taste of that kind of pleasure… I hope Cecelia will enjoy that game, for she is to be mine.”
“Ahem.” Simon cleared his throat in warning from the darkness.
“With her brother’s permission, of course,” he added jovially. “Come, come, now, you are older and wiser, what frightens you about this? Am I not comely?”
“Quite comely, sir. Indeed, I quite enjoy the idea of this adventure.” Gwyneth suddenly felt quite shy, unsure what Simon expected of her.
“Oh, Simon, she thinks me quite comely.”
Simon’s deep voice echoed through the room. “Aye, she has said that more than once today. It is becoming a bit irksome.”
“I must see if I am able to convince the woman to comment on all of my charms. Let us irk your betrothed a bit, shall we, Lady?”
He pulled off his cloak and threw it across a rough stone table. Patric gestured for Gwyneth. She moved slowly and he helped her onto the table.
“I am quite cold, sir.”
“We can see that, my Lady. And we will surely change that quickly.”
Patric bent over Gwyneth and she saw his blue eyes glimmer in the low light. He was comely. Young and strong and full of life and mischief.
“Will you kiss me, Raven—is that not what he calls you?”
“I will not kiss you, sir. That is the one thing I will not do. Only the man who has my heart may kiss me.”
“Hmnn. This is a sorry state of affairs then. Simon, she will not kiss me,” Patric complained.
Gwyneth heard Simon’s low chuckle and she relaxed a little.
“May I touch you, Raven? How do you like to be touched?”
“I like to be touched by my master’s hand. He alone knows how to touch me.” This brought a louder chuckle from Simon.
Patric stripped off his britches, exposing a hard shaft ready for plundering.
Heat rushed to her core at the sight of him and she squirmed on the table. He was magnificent, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to have him take her while her love watched.
“Aha! It seems, Simon, that the lady simply needs a little prompting. Not quite as shy as she pretends.”
“You will find me quite dry, sir, I assure you.” Moisture poured from her folds at the closeness and sight of him, at her fantasy of both men, within her at once…
“Shall we test that? Simon, what do you think?” There was no answer. Patric climbed onto the table and straddled Gwyneth, bringing his mouth down onto her breasts, suckling and nibbling, sending heat through her. She shuddered in ecstasy and fear. Did Simon truly want her to enjoy this? Or would he be angry?
It was impossible not to respond to Patric’s expert attentions. He licked his way down her belly and brought his mouth to her folds, licking and nibbling and sucking until she cried out.
“Not dry after all, Simon!” Patric knelt on the table, pulling Gwyneth’s buttocks high into the air with his strong arms.
“Enough!” Simon’s harsh voice echoed off the stone walls and Patric pulled away. He looked at Simon and laughed lightly, shaking his head.
“I thought so, cousin. I take it that my services are no longer needed? Pity, that.”
“Oh, go find my sister. I know where the two of you have been all day.” He pushed at Patric’s chest and growled, “You are treating Cecelia well, are you not? Others in my family have not been kind. I will kill you without a moment’s hesitation if you hurt her in any way, body or heart.”
“Aye, I would feel the same about my sister. Time will give you your answer, cousin. You will see.” Patric laced up his britches and made a sweeping bow to Gwyneth, who lay stunned and cold on the table. “Madam, if you ever find that your husband does not service you properly…” Patric then took the stairs quickly.
“Simon?” She shuddered at the look on his face. He threw his heavy cloak around her and leaned in to kiss her gently.
Gwyneth caught her breath and her heart stopped for a second at the look in his eyes, the gentleness of his lips, the emotion pouring from him. He’s in love with me!
“If you ever touch another man, I will…” He didn’t finish, but clenched his hands into fists.
“This was your idea, sirrah. Simon, I am quite confused by this game of yours. Was it a test? Did I pass or fail? I want only you.”
“You felt nothing for Patric?”
“I felt something indeed, and that you witnessed.”
“Is he a better lover? Do you want him?”
“Oh, Simon, you are sweetness itself! You have nothing to fear. For you are not only the champion of lovers, you are the love of my life. The combination of the two…” She smiled. “Relax, I have no need for another. Although, I must thank you for this little game. I may blush when I see Patric again.”
Simon grumbled. He was quiet for a moment and nodded. “Are you
a witch, Gwyn?”
She reached up and caressed his cheek, ran her thumb along the scar that looked perfect.
“Aye, but not in the way you think. Oh, Simon, I love you. I simply practice some of the old ways. Why, how can you be so harsh!”
“Oh, love, are you sure you didn’t want my cousin?”
She laughed. “Oh, you don’t care about my arts at all, only that you can best your cousin.”
Simon climbed on top of her and loosened his pants, suddenly pushing into her in a possessive frenzy. Ripples of heat swept across her skin.
Simon bit at Gwyneth’s ear and whispered darkly, “I do not enjoy watching another pleasure you, I have found. In fact, I rather detest it. I never want to see another touch you again. It made my heart ache in a way I have never felt. I am shocked by it. I do not understand how you have changed this…interest of mine, witch. Is it one of your spells?” He pushed hard again and moaned in pleasure.
“No spell, Simon. I believe it simply means you are a man in love. At least, that is what I choose to believe. Or perhaps you are a jealous madman. In any case, I am pleased.”
“I am not especially pleased that you practice the dark arts, Raven. But, if you will, dance for me in the moonlight each month?” He shuddered and cried out, pouring into her.
“And will you wear a grey cloak and spy on me from behind a tree? Touch yourself in an unholy way?” She panted into his ear.
“Why, you will simply have to wonder and find out, will you not?” Simon bent and kissed her again, then whispered something in Italian she could not understand. She only knew it sounded wonderful, despite his terrible accent.
* * *
“Honey, come here.” Shawn pushed his hand through his hair and put the book down on the table.
“Where did you find that?” Jennifer laughed.
“I realized I never finished reading it.”
“What’s the final verdict?”
“I loved it. But it’s not quite as exciting as the real deal.” Shawn pulled her into his lap and kissed her thoroughly. “But what’s this stuff about a threesome? You never told me you were into that kind of stuff? This is not the sort of thing a man should find out after the wedding.” He arched a brow.
“Oh, Shawn, it’s only a book. A fantasy. Not necessarily my fantasy.”
“There’s always Peter in the Chemistry Department,” he whispered into her ear.
“You’d never!”
“Sure I would. Up to a point. Hmnn, not sure what that point is, actually…”
Jennifer looked at him in shock. “You’re messing with me.”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “Maybe once. Your choice. I’m simply here to please.”
Jennifer tilted her head and brushed her palm along his cheek. “You’re something else. I may take you up on that someday. But only after the baby comes.”
“Okay.”
Jennifer stood and walked towards the kitchen. She turned around when he yelped.
“Baby!” He ran to her and she nodded. Shawn pulled her into his arms and looked closely into her eyes.
“But I thought you couldn’t have a baby. The woman in the book couldn’t have a baby…”
“Oh for Pete’s sake, Shawn, that’s only a book. Do you mean you married me thinking we couldn’t have children?”
“Sure. I would have married you no matter what.”
Jennifer smiled and led him back to the chair and sat on his lap, arms around his neck. Shawn kissed her head as he stared out at the crashing Atlantic. He wondered if Simon and the Raven ended up as happy.
About the Author
To learn more about Ciar Cullen, please visit www.ciarcullen.com. Send an email to Ciar at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Ciar. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/CiarCullen.
Look for these titles by Ciar Cullen
Now Available:
Mayan Nights
Lords of Ch’i
The Princes of Anfall
Coming Soon:
Key West Magic
Mayan Secrets
Relic Hunters
Can a friendship of three survive the trials of love and war?
Modus Vivendi
© 2007 Emery Sanborne
Aidan Morrison, Virgil Craig and Drea Samuels have rarely been separated during their decade-long friendship. While war rages in Europe in the summer of 1917, two young men prepare to face the unknown. Leaving the girl they grew up with drives one man to propose to Drea and the other to seduce her. To complicate matters, the men share a secret relationship of their own.
Life on the home front is no less perilous than the front lines as Drea must face a personal tragedy alone while her friends try to survive the brutalities of war.
After more than a year away, first Aidan and then Virgil return. Their unresolved issues reemerge and long-kept secrets are revealed. Can Aidan, Virgil and Drea find a way through the confusion, misunderstanding and undeniable attraction each of them feels for the others? Or will they have to accept that the ties they formed as children are not meant to last into adulthood?
Book 1 in The Affairs of Morton’s Pointe series.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Modus Vivendi:
Skimming his hands down Drea’s calves, Virgil slipped his fingers under the barrier of her woolen socks and pushed them to bunch around her ankles. He focused his attention on her right foot first, lifting it and tugging the sock off by the toes, slowly uncovering the pale skin beneath. Next came the left, which he continued to hold long after he tossed the sock aside, studying the callus under her middle toe and the way her arch curved just so. He was pulled back to the present by an impatient wiggling of Drea’s toes.
“Is my foot really that fascinating?” she asked, amusement evident.
“You didn’t know Virgil had a foot fetish?” Aidan sounded so serious that Virgil had to look at him to know that he was joking.
“Watch it, Morrison,” he warned as he abandoned Drea’s foot to the floor. He let his hands trail up her legs to where her skirt lay rolled and resting on her knees. “Or I can let you figure out how to do this yourself.”
Aidan was unfazed. “Something tells me I could manage.”
“He has really good instincts.” Drea’s voice was low and enticing.
Virgil’s cock responded to both comment and voice. Aidan did indeed have good instincts, instincts that had taken over when Madam Violet’s teachings hadn’t been enough. And Drea, God, it was fortunate she didn’t sound like that all the time when she talked, or he’d never leave her alone.
“How come I get ganged up on here?” he protested as he inched Drea’s skirt higher until the bottoms of her drawers were visible.
“Because you’re taking your sweet time,” she replied.
“And it’s fun,” Aidan chimed in.
“Just once,” Virgil said as he brought the hem of Drea’s skirt to rest at her waist and reached up to tug the tie on her drawers free, “it would be nice for one of you to side with me.” He tugged the cotton down, revealing the soft, white expanse of her stomach. He worked the material as low as was physically possible before continuing. “Or maybe help me out from time to time? A man can’t do everything by himself.”
“Aidan may have instincts, but you’re pretty creative. I’m sure you could think of some way to help yourself if you had to.” Drea’s eyes danced.
“I could, but I really don’t want to right now.” The last part he said with only a faint hint of levity.
Bracing herself on the arms of the chair, Drea lifted her rear from the seat enough so he could slip her drawers the rest of the way off. For all the teasing, it was obvious she was still uncertain from the slight tremor in her stomach and the way her legs pressed closer together to retain a little modesty once she sat back down. Confronted with her laid bare before him, Virgil realized how terrified he was to be doing this. He had been anxious before, but it hadn’t been so
very real until now. Christ, he was going to eat Drea out in front of Aidan and, while they were also nervous, they didn’t seem to be afraid of forging ahead.
He brought his hands to rest on Drea’s knees. All joking was laid aside when he spoke. “Are you absolutely certain you’re okay with me doing this now?”
She was silent before she replied quietly, “Yes, Virgil, I am.”
He looked to Aidan, but the other man beat him to the punch. “Yes, Virgil, I’m all right with this.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled. They were good and he was, well mostly good. So what was he waiting for?
Slowly, he prized Drea’s legs open, amazed that she didn’t resist him at all. The white flesh of her thighs parted, gradually revealing the entirety of her coppery curls and the sensitive pink flesh normally carefully hidden but now displayed, glistening slightly with her arousal. He was a very fortunate man.
He ran his palms up along the soft skin of her inner thighs, feeling every goose bump that his touch elicited. Up he went until there was no farther to go. Fingers splayed, middle fingers nudging her hipbones, his thumbs hovered over her pussy, waiting the barest of moments before making contact. First his left then right thumb traced down her slit, skating over the slick, satiny flesh begging to be touched. He pushed apart her labia, baring the delicacies of her sex completely unhindered to his hungry gaze. Without further thought, Virgil bowed worshipfully, bringing his mouth achingly close to his target. He blew lightly over the flesh just to hear Drea’s sharp intake of breath at the teasing contact before his tongue darted out and he ran it flat and firm over the swollen flesh to take the first taste of her. It was a heady flavor, mostly salty and a little sweet with something indescribable that made him crave more. So more he took. He explored every fold and ridge, savoring what he had been unable to in his determination last night to show Drea what she had no idea of. He held her hips firmly grounded to the chair as she tried to rise up. Her body was his. All his for just this moment. Every gasp and moan, the flood of juices that coated his tongue as he licked and probed.
