“I believe your sister is in need of a good sponsor,” Lovich continued.
“What of it?”
“Dally here and mayhap a windfall might provide for her need.”
Paris gave a mirthful snort. Curse Lovich for pinpointing his one weakness. He’d sell his body and soul for Persephone’s pleasure, had done the former many times over. If he’d had only himself to support, then a simpler, impoverished life in the countryside would have sufficed, but his sister deserved so much better.
“How is that not payment for my willingness to sin?”
“The gift would be to her, not to you. The help of a friend is not recompense for any favour.”
“And Sophia is to watch?” Paris asked.
Lovich’s smile broadened until it entirely engulfed his face. “To participate. You must forgive us for using her as bait to lure you here, but it was never our intention to deny you the pleasures originally offered, only to offer additional delights too.”
“Please, Paris, say yes that you will stay.” Sophia smiled up at him. The fan of lace at her elbow swept across his bared thighs as she moved to join her hand with her husband’s against his stomach. “Will you let us love you together?”
Not waiting for his answer, she crawled closer, and her lips met with the skin of his stomach. From there she trailed her tongue upwards, seeking out a nipple upon which to feast.
Paris stiffened as Lovich wrapped his large palm around his cock. His touch couldn’t have been more different from Sophia’s. Where hers was gentle, his was firm and a little rough. Yet Paris's body cared not for any difference it seemed, for blood pumped into his loins leaving him just as stiff as if he’d never come.
Sophia shoved him onto his back and climbed astride him, knees planted either side of his ears. “You work marvels with that tongue, won’t you work a few more.”
“A moment, Sophie,” Lovich insisted, tugging at the sleeve of her gown. “Let’s remove a few of these layers else you’ll smother Mr Ashcroft with your skirts.”
She stood, towering over him while he lay prone, and Lovich unlaced her from her gown and all the layers of concealed nonsense she sported beneath. The last thing to come off was her shift, which Lovich cast onto the floor leaving her gloriously naked. She was everything Paris had imagined: the tiny waist, the wide flaring hips and that plump soft bottom. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
She fell on him at once, returning to her knees astride his head, so that the scent of her body surrounded him as he worked his tongue, dipping into her heat, circling and coaxing the precious bead that was the source of a woman’s pleasure.
For the most part, Alexander seemed content to watch. He sat on his haunches, sometimes playing with his wife’s voluptuous breasts. Only when he vanished from sight did Paris feel any pangs of terror.
And yet, what was so very terrible about a soft mouth wrapped around his shaft? He sighed as the sucking grew firm. Dear Lord, the man knew just exactly how to curl his tongue around the head so as to give maximum pleasure. Each whisper-light flick over the slitted eye made him jerk right off the bed, but not content with that torment, Alexander Lovich turned his attention to Paris’s balls, licking, rolling their delicate surface over his tongue, teasing them gently. Then when Paris was sure he couldn’t tolerate a moment more, the attention shifted, not back to his cock, but to the pouting little opening Sophia had already proved was the source of bountiful pleasure. The very tip of Alexander’s tongue dabbed against the furl of muscle, wetting, preparing him. Hell, this could hardly be real, only he’d never dreamed anything so magnificently rude before. Always things were simple, he and Sophia entwined as couples often were. He wanted to be with her again like that right now.
Take control, Paris. Direct this where you want it to go.
He wanted her, and maybe some buried art of him wanted to feel Alexander press up tight behind him and do more than tricks with his tongue. Maybe. But there was no need to rush there, was there?
* * *
Sophia dug her nails into the bed post. The rasp of Paris’s tongue against her puss had left her breathless and bathed in sweat. She wanted his cock, and Alexander’s cock, the feel of both men above her lavishing attention on her and upon one another. She wanted them all bound together, slick with sweat and caught up in the primal need to fuck. Right now, she wanted hands upon her breasts. Paris’s hands. His fingers pinching her dark pink nipples until fire ran from their tips right down to her toes. Already a similar heat linked her breasts to her puss, but now she wanted more than his tongue. She wanted him thrusting inside her again.
Sophia shimmied down Paris’s body, forcing Alexander to relinquish his position and possession of Paris’s cock. Yes, she wanted this, but she didn’t sink down immediately. Instead, she circled the head of Paris’s cock around her entrance, teasing, making both him and her sigh. So good! Inch by steady inch she took him inside of her, until they nestled together, hair kissing, connected completely.
Alexander straddled Paris’s legs behind her, pressing up against her back. Her breasts filled his warm palms and his lips caressed the side of her neck. He pinched hard, sucked harder, propelling her into a state of pure bliss, until she could stand it no more. She fell forward and rubbed herself against the firm plane of Paris’s lean chest. He writhed beneath her, sinuous as a snake, their combined dance one of magnificent pleasure.
Alexander chose that moment to move. He crawled up the bed, and settled amongst the mound of pillows, a beatific smile stretched across his face.
Unexpectedly, Paris flipped her over. He grabbed her hands and clasped them tight above her head, and then bucked into her so hard the canopy above them rippled like ocean waves.
Precious heaven that was good. She’d always liked it furious, and the way such a pounding left her breathless and every inch of her skin totally sensitized. She fought back against his grip until her muscles ached. Amazingly, he understood that it wasn’t a bid for freedom, but rather a desire for him to tighten his hold and fully dictate this possession. Alexander had taught her the joy in such robust joining. The first time they’d been together, he’d not taken her like she was made of glass and likely to splinter within his grip; rather he’d chased her through every room of their house and down to the shore of the river that lapped gently at the base of the lawn. He’d pushed her down onto all fours and raised her skirts and taken her there upon the grass, among the fallen leaves and the mud. It had been raw and crude and necessary. She’d understood entirely in that moment that excitement and passion were what it was all about.
Alexander had fucked her there until she’d seen stars and her limbs had become wobbly with fatigue. Afterwards, he’d carried her back to the house and his bed where he’d used his tongue to ease the heat in her puss. Not that he’d really calmed anything, just raised fire after fire. She’d been sore the next morning, but he’d taken care of her, loved her. More importantly, he hadn’t been hypocritical when several days later she’d entered his study and dropped onto her knees desperate to taste his cock and experience again the wonderful feel of him thrusting inside of her. She’d not imagined that she’d find another man who similarly understood her need for robust copulation.
Alexander’s shadow fell over them. He looked down at her, desire blazing in his eyes. She’d been shocked when he’d first expressed to her his desire for other men, but he’d never cheated on her, at least not in a manner so that she considered him unfaithful. He kept no mistress, and he told her in detail his exploits with the one or two men he’d slept with since their marriage.
The heat in his voice as he relived the moments roused her to such an extent that the plan for this evening had finally been born. She’d not only see her husband take another man, she’d feel it too. They’d both own him at once.
* * *
Paris slowed his motion the moment Alexander’s touch fell upon his rear. Nervous excitement fluttered inside his belly. He kept his focus locked firmly upon Sophia, but
there was no escaping the reality of Alexander’s presence. The man intended to enter him, to fill him in the same way that he currently filled Sophia.
A tremor rippled up his spine. Alexander’s fingers slid whisper-light over the swirl of his anus. Alexander’s tongue followed where his fingers led, wetting Paris making everything glib. One finger then two slid into his arse and stretched him. The intensity of this made him groan. Sophia had lit sparkles when she’d touched him hence, Alexander touch was far more determined and deliberate. He stroked in and out, slowly scissoring his fingers apart. It was still a shock though to feel Alexander’s cock nudge determinedly between his spread cheeks.
“Damn.”
“Ready?” Alexander’s voice was a husky purr in his ears, full of eagerness. He cast a bottle of lotion onto the mattress. The oily, rose-scented smell of it wafted over the bed. At the same time, the slick sounds of Alexander coating his stout shaft with the cream filled the space that had so recently been occupied by the thump and creak of the bedstead.
No, he wasn’t ready. Would he ever be ready? Then again the press of Alexander’s cock tormented his senses. No, it did more than that, it made him crave… just a touch… It wasn’t that he wanted, more that he needed. “Damn!” Paris bit his lip. The pressure was as firm as it was sweet. He tried to hold himself still inside Sophia, not to draw back and impale himself, but she wasn’t content with stillness, not one bit. Nor did Alexander keep remotely still. The tip of his cock rubbed repetitively against the prize it craved, pressing a little deeper with every motion, slowly poking its way inside his body, until he was accepting it, fighting it, loving it.
Hell, he hadn’t really wanted this, but the weight of the other man’s body, the heat and pressure, the tingling of his senses… There was no denying it all added up to an extremely pleasurable act. And any doubts he had, any doubts at all, vanished when he looked into Sophia’s eyes. He fell into her gaze and lay entrapped within it, his reservations melted away.
He wanted her.
He wanted to fuck, and to be fucked.
Paris pushed back against the intrusion, and Alexander’s cock pressed deep into his rear. The sensations left him on fire. He surged forward again, sinking deep into the heat of Sophia’s cunt. She squealed his name. “Paris, Paris.” Alexander took up the chant too, hissing it into his shoulder blade.
Nothing in his experience came remotely close to the sensations currently being evoked. Even the edge of discomfort added something to the moment. It wasn’t safe, it was taboo and dangerous. If people found out, there’d be the sort of trouble he’d be lucky to survive, and yet, he knew he wouldn’t change a thing. He wouldn’t balk for one second repeating this pleasure again.
“Ah, Sophie,” he sighed.
“Paris… Tell me.” She panted beneath him; her face flushed and eyes a-glitter. “I can feel him inside you dictating the rhythm. So good. I don’t want this to end.”
She might not want it to, but he was riding impossibly close. The forward stroke of Alexander’s cock kept colliding with a point inside his body that sent a whoosh right through every cell and stole his breath away. The fact that it also forced him forward deep into Sophia’s honeypot only augmented the effect. He couldn’t tolerate it, and he couldn’t resist it.
The tremor started in his ballocks. Everything seemed to pull impossibly tight, and then everything relaxed all at once leaving him dancing with his feet on hot coals.
He wasn’t the only one flying. Alexander grunted behind him, and the sliding within his arse became more frantic and incredibly slick. The loss when Alexander withdrew brought the threat of tears to his eyes. A sob escaped his lips, only to be muffled by the press of Sophia’s tongue as she deeply kissed him.
Erection fading, Paris freed himself from Sophia’s heat. He bent his head to her puss, and lightly touched her taut little nubbin with his tongue. She sat virtually upright as she came, a feverous scream escaping her lips.
For a long while afterwards they lay cuddled together. He and Alexander on either side of Sophia, the gentle rise and fall of her breast a glorious comfort. Eventually, he sat up and disentangled his limbs from hers. “I ought to leave you to your repose.”
“No,” Sophia squeaked.
Alexander sat up too. “You ought to settle yourself down exactly where you were.”
He didn’t stay the night. He never stayed the whole night. It led to too great an attachment and ultimately the person who came off worse was him. His bed partners started expecting too much. They forgot that he was the hired help and not a suitor. Of course with Sophia, he wanted things to be different, but how could they be? Truly, how could an arrangement with her and Alexander ever be viable?
“I can’t stay.”
“Yes, you can,” Sophia insisted. “You can at least stay tonight. What have you that is so enticing in your room?”
Nothing. There was nothing but a narrow cot and a cracked wash bowl in the dressing room he’d been given as a bedchamber. No soft comfort awaited him, no glow from the banked embers of the fireplace, and definitely no loving arms.
“Do we have to persuade you?” Alexander asked. He stalked across the mattress on hands and knees, climbing over Sophia to reach Paris. His eyes were dark, brows lined with a frown. “Might have to insist. I haven’t had nearly enough of you yet.” He dipped his head, placed a kiss directly over Paris’s navel. “How much persuasion do you think you can stand?”
Sophia’s arms encircled his waist. She rested her stubborn little chin upon his shoulder. “You’re not really going to make a fuss are you, Paris?” Her lips tickled the shell of his ear. Despite being infinitely light, the caress sent a shiver right through him.
Alexander dipped his head again, kissed him near the root of his cock, then one large hand splayed across his chest and pushed him firmly backwards, down into the mattress and onto the soft pillow of Sophia’s lap. He expected the warm pleasure of Alexander’s mouth around his stirring cock again, but it never came. In many ways that would have been preferable to what occurred instead. The other man towered over him. Glittering eyes stared down into his. A kiss followed, focussed, high-handed, and firm with just a touch of arrogance. Damned if it wasn’t more intimate than being fucked. Alexander’s kiss was nothing like Sophia’s. It was rough and scratchy and domineering, yet he couldn’t help responding despite his best efforts. Hell, he tried. Well, a little, but with his head nestled upon Sophia’s lap and the other man above him with his rising cock pressing hard to Paris’s leg, there really was no escape. The deep seated ache of longing it roused in his loins made that all too apparent too.
Alexander freed him in one regard, only to possess him in another. He slid in impossibly easily, taking him in a single fluid stroke.
Paris turned his head to the side and hid his face against Sophia’s thigh.
“Don’t hide now.” Alexander’s large hand formed a V around his jaw. “Look at me while I swive you. I want to see the delight in your eyes.”
Which was exactly what he wanted to hide.
He didn’t want to admit to his tormentor just how good this felt.
“Oh, Sophia. He’s so good. Tight and perfect.” Alexander’s words were a breathless pant.
“I know it. I can see it in your face.” They kissed right over him, the act binding them all together again. “I knew I would enjoy seeing you together. Alexander we must do something. We mustn’t let it end. One night can’t be all. It simply can’t.”
“Nor will it be. Be reassured. Nor will it be.”
Hell, he’d waded into treacherous waters. Shame then that he had no fight left to escape the subsuming waves. It all felt far too good, and he’d do anything to remain this close to Sophia’s side. A fact he’d surely already proved.
* * *
Sophia woke in the dim light before dawn, when the orange glow of the waking sun still sat low on the horizon and only the most eager birds were awake and chirping. In the big shadowy bed her husban
d slept with his arm sloppily thrown around Paris Ashcroft’s waist. If she’d possessed any talent with a brush, she’d have sat down and painted them together like that, for they looked blissfully content and quite heartbreakingly perfect. Instead she perched upon the chest at the foot of the bed and wrung her hands in her lap. All too soon they would rise, and what they’d shared here would end. There had to be a way around that dissolution. Alas that at this point in time she couldn’t see it. Truly she adored Alexander with all her heart and their relationship was an entirely good one, but she’d realised early on that no matter how hard she tried she simply couldn’t satisfy some of his baser urges. Never had that fact been as prominent as seeing him with Paris last night, which was why she had to try so very hard to keep him. Even in the midst of passion they hadn’t excluded her. Even when sinfully joined they’d taken care of her needs.
And Paris… for her own part, she loved the way that red blush flooded across his cheekbones when her words or actions caused him palpitations. For a man of his position and of his profession he was desperately easy to shock. She loved his enthusiasm and his warmth, and more importantly the way he looked at her, as if she were the most exquisite beauty in the world and he meant to fall at her feet and worship her like she was a goddess of old.
In the bed, Alexander stirred. He sat up rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong? Why are you shivering over there? Come here,” he said.
Sophia curled herself upon his warm lap. “I don’t want this night to end.”
“The arrangement can be repeated, Sophia.”
“Yes.” If Paris was willing she knew they could arrange a future tryst, but there seemed something quite cold about such an accord, like he was a toy they could take out for a while to add spice to their bedroom antics and then put away when he was no longer required. She wanted something far more mutual than that. “Could we not invite him to stay with us? Once we leave here, I mean. It would not appear so strange if his sister were to become my companion.”
Menage After Midnight (Romps & Rakehells) Page 3
