“Oh, take me!” she shouted, clutching more tightly at his shoulders.
He blinked, then began to move. Her hips rose to meet him and he was soon pounding into her hard and fast. Their bodies were coated with sweat and he lifted her legs up around his waist.
“My God,” he groaned, feeling every inch of her grasp his shaft. “Oh, my God.”
She began to sob again, her body arching wildly beneath him. She shattered then, coming tight around his shaft as he continued to ride her. He couldn’t do anything else but buck and thrust until he felt his own climax start.
“Violet, let me…” he began, bracing himself on his hands to withdraw.
She drew him closer in the throes of her orgasm and he suddenly came with a groan, pouring his seed deep inside of her in hot spurts that nearly turned him inside out.
He took in great gasps of air as he struggled to hold himself off her slight form. Her head was turned to the side, her eyes closed as she took ragged breaths through her parted lips. Her pussy still held him tight, aftershocks of pleasure tickling at him as he squeezed his own eyes shut at last.
The feel of her, the scent of her and their sex all around them, was something he knew he’d never forget. And, like his time with Cabot last night, he didn’t feel the wash of cold shame that he was so used to following his climax. He couldn’t think about what that meant at the moment, however. He was just too bloody satisfied.
“Violet,” he said finally, opening his eyes again and bringing his brow to hers. “Are you all right?”
She shifted and gazed up at him. “Oh, yes.”
Cabot did laugh then, slapping Victor’s shoulder. “Well done, Victor.”
Victor barked out a surprised chuckle and shook his head.
Chapter 7
Cabot helped her dress as Victor pulled on his trousers. The matter of her remarkable hair was beyond Cabot’s expertise, apparently. She kept her eyes diverted as she fussed at the golden curls. With a breath, she dropped her hands to her sides.
“I suppose I’ll see you at dinner, Victor?” she asked, her voice small.
“Of course,” he answered dumbly.
She seemed so vulnerable poised there and somehow just as appealing in her clothing as out of it. He should say something. Tell her everything would be all right. Yet he had no knowledge of that fact. He just prayed that Cabot’s pretty smile would be enough to soothe her.
“There, pretty flower,” Cabot said, his voice a lilting timbre. He grasped her chin and lifted her face to his. “Go to your guest room. I’m sure Ivy is awaiting your call.”
Violet blinked up at Cabot, then accepted his kiss with one of hers. His own lips tingled for the touch of that tender caress, but he was far too brutish to warrant such care.
She stared at him now, then nodded and left his room.
Victor cursed, dragging his fingers through his hair. “What the hell am I going to do now?”
Cabot shrugged and picked up Victor’s jacket where he’d tossed it on the floor. “You’re going to take her again, I imagine.”
“Yes,” Victor admitted. “Rutting bastard of a Hawk that I am, I suppose I will.”
“As will I,” Cabot said.
Victor couldn’t rouse a lick of jealousy at the notion. Instead he imagined the two golden beauties fucking and groaned aloud. “I admit I can’t wait to see that.”
Cabot nodded, then stroked his cock, visibly hard through his own trousers. “God, the sight of you pounding into her soft, sweet pussy. I nearly came just from watching.”
Victor nodded and sank down in the chair nearest the fireplace. “She was a virgin, Cabot. She was so hot and tight I couldn’t stop. I nearly died inside of her.”
“A poet for a Hawk, I see,” Cabot teased. “Are you ready to dress for dinner?”
Victor waved a hand. “Go see to your other duties, man.” He lifted his chin at Cabot’s erection. “What are you going to do about that?”
“You don’t want to suck me?” Cabot asked.
Inexplicably, Victor’s mouth watered at the thought having a taste of him. “I’ve never.”
“No matter.” He winked. “You will, before this is over. As for this afternoon? Lucky for me, I’m not a Hawk.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll just use my hand and the image of you and Violet to see to myself.”
Again Victor was seized with the urge to laugh. Cabot left his room and Victor saw to his own dress. It was all so astounding, this surprise liaison among the three of them. He shouldn’t fuck her again. He really shouldn’t. Yet the thought of never having her again caused a pain to settle close to the center of his chest.
He’d have to talk with her, of course. When the heat of passion wasn’t burning so damned hot he could scarcely breathe. She would want to know where this would leave them once they returned to Ralston House.
They had nearly a fortnight before the holiday, after all. They were stuck here at Hawksfell, the both of them. Cabot was a willing participant, and perhaps Victor’s beast would have its fill of fucking before the new year. Then he could go back to being the thoughtful relative and only support for the girl in his care.
He closed his eyes, reveling for the moment in the intense pleasure of coming without the familiar emptiness to follow so swiftly on its heels. He didn’t know what the hell all this was but he would enjoy it while he had it.
God knew what would come when this madness was over.
* * * *
Cabot climbed up to his attic room, his balls aching but his heart light. Tasting Violet, bringing her to stunning climax, had surpassed his expectations. But watching Victor take her? He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d nearly come in his trousers. His big dark body held over her perfect fair form was something he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
He opened his door and stepped inside. As he eased the door closed he worked the top button free of his trousers. He hissed as his fingers brushed over his swollen cock.
“You’re not with the baron, Cabot?” Ivy asked from behind him.
His hand stilled and he craned his neck. He saw over his shoulder that, once again, she was stalking him in the hallway.
“I have to ready for dinner service, Ivy.” He folded his hands in front of his groin and turned to face her. “Don’t you have to see to the countess?”
Ivy nodded. “Yes. I thought I’d take care of Miss Ralston first but her guest room was empty.” She tilted her head to one side. “Where do you suppose she could be?”
Cabot felt his cheeks turn pink but he managed a negligent shrug. “How would I know? It’s a big house, you know.”
“Hmm.” Ivy ran her gaze over him. “You look disheveled, Cabot. Much like you did yesterday afternoon.”
“What are you implying?”
She let out a gasp. “I know who you’ve been with!” she said, her eyes narrowed.
Cold fear clutched at his belly. “What?”
“Tillie,” she said. “That little kitchen mouse. You’re fucking her!”
Cabot nearly laughed at the ridiculous notion. Tillie was not only very young, but as naïve as a child. He’d no sooner fuck her than he would Mrs. Holmes.
“I’ve not taken Tillie and you’d be wise not to spread such a vile tale, Ivy. The countess doesn’t care for gossip, and Mrs. Holmes will recommend she sack you if she gets wind of it.”
Ivy paled. “That’s true.”
“Now stop hounding me and go play with one of the groomsman. What about the new chauffeur? Maybe he’ll give you a ride, so to speak.”
Ivy clicked her tongue. “Do you think I’m a doxy, Cabot? I don’t just want a tumble. Goodness knows I could get one anywhere I wanted.” She eyed him again. “Nearly anywhere, that is.”
“As I said, I have to ready for dinner service. Go down to the servants’ hall. Go down to the carriage house. Go down to the bloody kitchen and help Mrs. Padmont with the bloody stew. I don’t care. Just get out of my bloody
room!”
Ivy pulled back, then an expression of resignation settled on her face. “Fine, then.” She sniffed and lifted her chin. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
“Do you?”
Apparently she chose to ignore his meaning. “You can’t deny that your shaft is hard for someone, Cabot.”
It’s hard for two people, actually. He forced himself to keep Victor and Violet’s names behind his teeth. “Go, Ivy,” he said, more gently this time. “My business is my own.”
“Take care,” she said in parting.
She left and he prayed that was finally the end of it. He closed the door tight. His exchange with her had taken care of his erection. That was certain. Putting the maid out of his mind, he dressed for dinner service and hurried down to the servants hall.
She’d told him in parting to take care. He would have to do that for sure. Playing with Victor was one thing. He was a Hawk and used to taking his pleasure wherever he might. As for Violet? She was previously a virgin. A passion-starved, eager former virgin, but an innocent nonetheless. She was most definitely in love with Victor, though. Cabot would have to be blind not to see that from the first. Having the both of them as lovers was something he never should attempt. They were both so far above him it would be ridiculous if he didn’t know in his soul that they wanted him as much as he did them.
What this would mean after Christmas was anyone’s guess. He would simply enjoy himself and keep his heart out of it. He might be sensitive, but he was no simpering fool. Play was play. Two weeks wasn’t long enough for his heart to crave more than passion with them. He was sure of it.
* * * *
Violet sat before the small vanity in her guest room, her heart finally beginning to slow. She was clad in only her chemise again, a fresh one this time, and the mirror showed her what a mess she looked. Her hair was tangled and her lips swollen. She was so fair she could see the faint marks left by first Cabot and then Victor’s attention to her aching breasts. What had she done?
First, to take a flirtation with Cabot to such lengths, and then to give herself to Victor? She laughed without humor. Truth be told, she hadn’t given him anything. She’d taken. Everything he’d had to give. His big body, heavy and wonderful on hers. His thick cock, finally as deep inside of her as she could manage. And yet…
And yet she still craved to make love with Cabot. What was wrong with her?
A knock came at her door then and she dashed her hands over her flaming cheeks. “Come,” she called.
Ivy, Lady Hawksfell’s maid and on loan for her care, entered. “Good evening, miss.”
“Hello, Ivy,” Violet answered.
As Ivy set about seeing to Violet’s dress and items on the top of the vanity, Violet couldn’t help but watch her. She was a very pretty girl, with auburn hair and deep brown eyes. Again she was reminded of Victor’s liaisons with the staff of Ralston. He surely would have taken this girl if Violet hadn’t been the one to have him today. And what of Cabot? Had he already been with Ivy?
“How long have you worked here, Ivy?” she asked.
“Just over a month, miss.” Ivy worked with her hair, ridding it of most of its tangles. “My, your hair is…”
“A mess?” Violet finished for her.
Ivy’s hands froze. “Miss, I didn’t mean to say anything untoward.”
“It is a mess, Ivy. I had a rest and I must have tossed and turned a bit.”
By the slant of one of the maid’s brows, Violet doubted she swallowed the lie. “A rest?”
Violet couldn’t meet her gaze in the mirror so she focused on a spot on the opposite wall. “Yes. I had a walk about the grounds and was fatigued.”
Ivy’s lips thinned. “The grounds are extensive.”
The girl didn’t say anything more as she finished with first Violet’s hair and then her dress. Her deep purple gown was well suited to the winter’s evening in half mourning.
“Thank you for your assistance, Ivy,” Violet said as she pulled on her long gloves.
“I’m happy to do it, miss.”
As Ivy reached the door she glanced at Violet over her shoulder. “You took a rest. This afternoon?”
Violet’s cheeks heated but she nodded. “As I’ve said.”
Ivy smiled. “Forgive me, miss. I would have assisted you out of your dress had you rung for me.”
“Thank you, but there was no need, Ivy.”
The maid bobbed a curtsey and left at last. Was the girl trying to guess what Violet had been about today? Did she somehow know?
Putting the inquisitive maid out of her mind, she took one last look in the mirror. She was presentable, and looked for all the world like a welcome guest of the Earl of Hawksfell.
It was a pity she would have to face both Victor and Cabot at dinner tonight.
Chapter 8
“Cabot is going to have you tonight, Violet.”
Victor’s words sent a shaft of desire through Violet’s body. Her eyes went to Cabot and her breath caught as he locked the door to Victor’s room.
Victor stood behind her, his hands slowly working the buttons of her dress loose. “Cabot tonight, Victor?”
Cabot laughed and turned from the door. His eyes were sparkling in that teasing way she’d come in such a short time to relish.
“It was hell serving at table last night,” he said. “Being so close to the two people I can’t stop wanting.”
Victor cupped her breasts as her corset slipped down. “I want you both, as well.” His voice was rough and her body trembled.
Victor shifted and Cabot stepped behind her, his hands in her hair. Pins scattered as he loosened the elaborate coif Ivy had given her.
“You have incredible hair,” Cabot said, his fingers stroking through the mass.
It was freeing and a bit wanton, the sensation of a man’s fingers caressing her so. She closed her eyes and leaned back. She could feel Victor’s lips on her neck as Cabot’s fingers continued to work their magic.
“You know, Ivy mentioned the state of your incredible hair when she’d helped you dress last night,” Cabot said.
Violet held her breath. What had the girl said to Cabot?
“How did you deflect that particular line of conversation?” Victor asked.
Cabot nuzzled the other side of her neck and she leaned back against him for support. “I said nothing to draw more conversation, believe me.”
“Have you—?” Victor bit back whatever he was going to ask but she knew precisely what he meant.
A chill danced over her skin and she straightened. “You and Ivy, Cabot?”
“What? No!” he answered.
She turned, her hands going to his shoulders. “Forgive me, Cabot! I have nerves of steel to presume you were only mine when I am clearly giving myself to both you and Victor.”
They both stared at her and the words she’d spoken struck her. She was indeed giving herself to them and taking everything they had to offer. Her cheeks heated and it wasn’t a reaction to staring into their handsome faces.
“Oh, I didn’t mean…” She couldn’t form an excuse for what she’d said. Her throat was thick as she realized she was putting too much of a demand on their broad shoulders.
“I’m not only yours, Violet,” Cabot said.
She knew that. Lord, she knew that very well. But to hear him say the words cut her in a way they definitely shouldn’t. “I know,” she said on a whisper. “You’re so pretty and there are so many lovely maids working here.”
They glanced at each other, then Cabot smiled brightly. “I didn’t mean any other maids.”
Her heart began to beat. “Then, who…” When Victor’s dark eyes heated, she knew. Cabot meant he was Victor’s!
“You and Victor?” she asked dumbly. “Victor, you and Cabot?”
Victor nodded. “Cabot and I.”
Images crashed through her mind, blurry and heated. How would the two men be together? “I don’t care about the particulars,” she breathed
. “I can’t wait to see the both of you together.”
Cabot laughed again and there was a definite curve to Victor’s lips.
“My, my,” Victor said. “Come here, Violet.”
Her body leaned toward the two of them and Victor took her mouth in a searing kiss. His taste was stronger than she remembered, and her mouth watered for more of him. As Victor kissed her, Cabot worked the rest of her clothes free. She felt a slight chill, then her body heated from the fire and their hands on her skin.
Victor picked her up and brought her over to the bed. She was naked now, reclining on the fine bed as she had been just yesterday. Desperately, she needed them to be as naked as she.
“Do take off your clothes,” she said, coming up on her elbows.
Cabot chuckled and Victor shrugged. “Should I have my valet strip me, Violet?”
Her breath caught. “Teasing again, Victor?”
He smiled, a larger expression this time. “I suppose I am.”
Cabot grabbed Victor’s shoulders and worked his jacket free. Facing him, he kissed him as she watched. Her pussy was dripping wet now, her body clenching.
“Oh, you’re kissing.” She swallowed thickly. “Take off your clothes, please.”
They parted and each stripped. They were differently built, as she’d noted yesterday. Today however, with both of them naked, she could appreciate the differences and similarities. Cabot was sculpted and gorgeous, muscular yet lean. Victor was burly, more heavily muscled and powerful. How could she want them both? As they joined her on the bed she put the question out of her mind. She did. Plain and simply put, she wanted them both.
“I’ll have a taste of you tonight,” Victor rasped, flicking his tongue over one nipple.
She jumped, then arched into his mouth. He bit down briefly, sending a shaft of pleasure straight to her pussy. “Oh, Victor!”
He released her nipple and gave it a long lick. “God, you’re delicious.” He kissed his way down over her belly and spread her thighs wide. “Mmm, I can’t wait to taste your pussy.”
Victor's Vow [Lords of Hawksfell Manor 6] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) Page 6
