For Love and Country (Brothers in Arms Book 13)

by Samantha Kane

  Ambrose lay down beside her again. He leaned over to kiss her mouth.

  “I want you to kiss me between my legs,” she whispered against his lips. She could feel him smile.

  “I will. But first I want to kiss these lips.” He touched the middle of her lower lip with the tip of his finger and she flicked her tongue against it. Then he pulled his finger away and she got lost in his kiss.

  When she felt the first touch of Barnabas’s mouth on her, the slick glide of his tongue along her nether lips, she gasped into Ambrose’s mouth. He barely pulled back. “How does it feel?” he asked, his lips still caressing hers.

  She concentrated on what Barnabas was doing. “Good,” she whispered. “It feels good.”

  “I want it to feel sublime,” Barnabas said intently. “I want it to be the most amazing thing you have ever felt.”

  “This whole night qualifies on that count,” Mel said with a light, disbelieving laugh. “Have no fear.”

  “As long as you have no fear,” Ambrose said.

  She cupped his cheek. “Could you be more dear?” she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I do adore you, you know.”

  He smiled down at her. “Good.” He kissed her lips lightly and then scooted down her side, kissing her breast and her hip on the way.

  When Barnabas put his mouth back on her sex, Ambrose was watching him intently. So was Mel. She was mesmerized by him. He was sin personified. A handsome devil with his dark, brooding looks and knowing eyes. She adored him, too, but she didn’t think he’d like hearing that, so she kept it to herself. He caught her eye and held it as he lasciviously licked a path from her entrance to the top of her slit, where he toyed with the sensitive knot there with the tip of his tongue. She sucked in a stuttering gasp, part of her wanting to push him away while another part wanted to hold him in place forever.

  Ambrose leaned over her leg and his tongue joined Barnabas’s. She moaned.

  “Yes, right there,” Barnabas murmured.

  Mel had forgotten that Ambrose had never done this before. She was his first woman. A perverse thrill went through her at the knowledge. From this day forward he would always remember her and this night. She spread her legs wider, inviting him inside, and Ambrose climbed over her leg. Barnabas pushed one leg back with a hand behind her knee and Ambrose followed suit, exposing her completely to them, and she knew no shame. This was what they all wanted. She lay her head back down and gave in to their sensual ministrations.

  It only took moments for the feel of their soft lips and clever tongues to have her moaning and biting her lip. She flung her hands over her head and dug her nails into the carpet so that she wouldn’t grab them.

  “Put your finger here,” Barnabas said softly, and she felt his touch at her entrance. “Inside her.” A moment later she felt Ambrose’s finger sliding into her slick sheath.

  “Oh!” she cried out. The sensation was divine. She’d been aching and they’d given her what she needed. To her consternation, Ambrose stopped.

  “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.

  “Yes, yes,” she said breathlessly. “More. Please. Fill me.”

  As Ambrose pushed his finger in all the way, Barnabas separated the lips of her sex and languorously licked each crease, pausing to flick his tongue each time he reached the top. She whimpered.

  “It feels so good,” she said quickly, so as not to alarm them. “Please don’t stop.”

  “We won’t, my dear,” Barnabas said, kissing the inside of her thigh. “Ambrose, fuck her with your finger. Like I fuck you with my cock.” At his words she instinctively tightened her inner muscles so that when Ambrose pulled his finger back he scraped along her sensitive inner walls, and she gave a little scream at the sensation, thrusting her hips at them.

  “More?” Ambrose asked, his voice deep and rough, the voice of an aroused male. A voice she used to fear, but from Ambrose she reveled in it.

  “More,” she begged, undulating her hips. “Fuck me.” She’d never asked a man to do that, but she thought she rather had to with Ambrose or he’d be constantly stopping to check on her state of mind. Ambrose obliged, gently moving his finger in and out.

  “Harder,” she said. “I need more.” She was breathing heavily, her eyes closed, one arm thrown over her face as she concentrated on the way they were making her feel. She felt cherished and desired. It was an intoxicating combination. She had never had men more interested in her pleasure than their own.

  Again Ambrose obliged her and she felt her passion rising higher. Barnabas was flicking and pressing his tongue against the knot at the top of her slit, and it was so sensitive but felt delicious. She sought his mouth and Ambrose’s finger with her hips again and again.

  Ambrose put his mouth on her as well, lightly biting one of the plump lips of her sex, and suddenly she knew something was about to happen. Her hands flew down to clutch their shoulders, nails digging in. Then she felt another finger slide inside her and she jerked her head up to see Barnabas watching her and she saw that it was his. Both he and Ambrose had their fingers inside her and their mouths on her, and her whole body seized as pure, white-hot pleasure pulsed through her sex and her entire body tensed as she rode the wave of it. Someone sucked on the knot in her slit and she sobbed at how good it felt. The fingers inside her curled up and tickled her, and another bolt of lightning pleasure coursed through her. After a few more moments the pleasure subsided, although aftershocks ripped through her as her entire body went limp.

  With one last flick of his tongue, Barnabas pulled away.

  “And that, my dears, was a woman’s pleasure,” he said, sounding very smug.

  * * *

  Ambrose awkwardly climbed over Mel’s leg so that he could collapse beside her. His cock was so hard it ached, but he wasn’t going to say anything. This was Mel’s time.

  She’d tasted so good and felt so divine. So soft and sweet and hot and wet. When she’d come he’d felt drunk on her climax. He’d felt like a conquering hero, a god. It could be addictive, this woman’s pleasure.

  “If Ambrose fucks you now while you’re so sensitive, you’ll probably come again on his cock,” Barnabas observed mildly.

  Ambrose heard a little sob and rolled over to see a tear run from the corner of her closed eye to her hairline.

  “Mel, darling, what is it?” he asked anxiously.

  “I never thought…” Mel paused and bit her lip. Then she opened her eyes, which were swimming with tears. She dashed another one away. “It was perfect.”

  “Don’t be alarmed,” Barnabas said, placing his hand on Ambrose’s leg. “Many women are overwhelmed by emotion when they climax that hard.” He nuzzled Mel’s stomach. “You’ll be all right in a moment, my sweet.”

  Mel looked to Barnabas. “Again? I can feel that way again?”

  “Yes,” Barnabas said, kissing her hip, coming to all fours over her. “We might be able to make you come again with our hands and our mouths, but most assuredly the best chance is a fuck.” He kissed the tip of her tight nipple, and Ambrose felt her shudder beside him. It made him ache even more. Barnabas’s cock was hard, as well, but not as hard as Ambrose’s. Of course, the lucky devil had already come. He could still taste the mix of Barnabas and Mel in his mouth.

  “Do you want to fuck me, Ambrose?” she asked tentatively. He glanced over at her in surprise. She looked worried.

  “Not if you don’t want me to,” he answered immediately. “There’d be no pleasure in it for me if you weren’t enjoying it.”

  “Oh,” she said. “But I do want you to. I just wasn’t sure you’d want your first time with someone like me.” She made a face. “I mean, you’ve saved that for a nice woman, a wife. Not me.”

  He changed positions so he could lean over her and meet her eyes. “Mel, you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I can’t think of any other woman I would rather lay with for my first time.”

  Tears shone in her eyes. “Oh, Ambrose,” she whispered
. “You always know the right thing to say. But even before…I wasn’t a nice woman, or a nice girl, either.”

  “I’ll never believe that,” Ambrose said earnestly. “Never.”

  Barnabas had moved his arm to let Ambrose in, but he still towered over them on all fours. “I’ll leave so you two can do this alone,” he said with no inflection in his voice. Before he could move Ambrose had grabbed his arm tightly.

  “No,” Mel said forcefully. “Barnabas, you must stay. I need you here.”

  “Why?” he asked. “Because you are afraid? Don’t do it, then.” Ambrose wanted to shake him at his cool tone.

  “No, you silly sod,” she snapped. “Because I like having both of you here. I like having you both touch me and kiss me, pleasuring me together. It’s very erotic. Don’t you think? Would you do that? Watch us, and touch and kiss me while Ambrose takes me? I’ve always wanted that.” She blushed. “A long time ago, when I was a debutante, I tried to seduce Mr. Wilkes and Mr. Gabriel, Lady Vanessa’s husbands.”

  “You did?” Ambrose asked in shock.

  “Of course you did,” Barnabas said with a delighted laugh. “So this isn’t highly irregular or alarming for you, is it? It’s what you wanted.”

  She nodded, still blushing. “I know I probably shouldn’t, especially after what’s happened to me. But you two make it seem so natural and not frightening at all. You make me feel like I did before it all happened. You make me want the things I used to want.”

  Ambrose felt great relief wash over him. He hadn’t realized how worried he was about the after effects of this assignation. But this ménage was something Mel had wanted for a very long time. And above all else, Ambrose wanted to give her what she wanted and needed.

  “Move off,” he said to Barnabas. “Take my place beside her.”

  Mel’s breathing hitched and she watched with excited eyes as he climbed on top of her. “Your trousers,” she said softly. “We are both naked. You should be too.” It took only a few seconds to divest himself of the now hated garment. When he lay down above her, nothing between them, skin on skin, they both sighed in delight. “You feel wonderful,” she said.

  “Not half as wonderful as you,” Ambrose told her. “I…is there something I must do first?”

  Barnabas chuckled from beside them. “You mean before you can shove your cock in her as deep as it will go?” he asked with amusement.

  “Barnabas,” Ambrose chided. “Must you be so crude?”

  “I like it,” Mel said. Her voice had that breathless quality that Ambrose already understood to mean she was very aroused. “I like a man who says what he means, who speaks the truth. I wish more people had spoken the truth to me when I was younger. Even now they dance around it.”

  “Then yes, that’s exactly what I meant,” Ambrose admittedly with relief. “Because even though I haven’t had my cock in anyone yet, I’m relatively sure it’s going to be one of those life-changing moments. So tell me now, is there something I need to do first?” The last was bit out with impatience.

  “No,” Mel whispered in his ear. “Just take me.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and bent her knees, spreading her legs, and to Ambrose it felt like they were interlocking pieces of a puzzle, the answer to a riddle, the perfect compliment to one another.

  He reached down and adjusted himself, trying to remember how it had felt when Barnabas had done it, or when he had his finger in her. It had seemed simple then. He worried now that he was too big for her small frame. She had hugged his finger. He looked over at Barnabas with a worried frown. Barnabas reached over and brushed the hair off his forehead.

  “Go ahead, lover,” he said softly. “Just push inside her and then do what comes naturally. Trust me, your body will know what to do, just like it did with me.”

  When the tip of his cock touched her, Ambrose gasped and Mel stiffened beneath him. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “You seem a little nervous.”

  “I am,” she admitted, her fingers digging into his back. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you. Please. I have to do this, don’t you see? I want myself back. And I trust you.”

  Ambrose pushed, not too hard, and was surprised when he slipped inside of her. It seemed far easier than when Barnabas had first taken him. She was tight, wet silk dragging on his cock, and he knew it was as close to heaven as he would come in this world. He kept pushing, going deeper inside her, until he could go no farther. He had to change his position, laying his forearms flat on the floor just under her shoulders so they could support his weight.

  “I didn’t know it would feel so good,” Mel said, her voice weak. “You were made for me.”

  “We were made for each other,” Ambrose corrected. “I have to move, Mel. Are you ready?”

  She nodded, her eyes closed. He took her at her word and pulled out slightly before pressing back in. The sensation was so intense he had to hold back a groan. Mel held nothing back, moaning her pleasure. Ambrose kissed her cheek, breathless and incapable of more while trying to set a smooth rhythm inside her.

  But then Barnabas bit his shoulder lightly, and when Ambrose turned to look at him Barnabas leaned down and kissed Mel properly. She let go of Ambrose with one arm and wrapped it around Barnabas, moaning even louder. He felt her sex clench around his cock, and he pressed hard and fast inside her. Her nails dug into him, so he kept that pace though it was sure to unman him.

  “Ambrose!” Mel cried out in shock, her hips thrust up to meet him, and they parried thusly for several minutes, growing more agitated and desperate with each pass.

  Barnabas kissed them both—on the mouth, the cheek, the shoulder, murmuring encouragement, telling them both how enticing they were, how perfect, how dangerously alluring. He poured out the words Ambrose had longed to hear, but he was only able to hear half of them, the blood pounding in his ears drowning out Barnabas’s voice. There was only Mel, only the all consuming pleasure of fucking her, her silken heat wrapped around him in the most erotic of embraces.

  Just when Ambrose knew he could not last a moment more, she cried out, her back arching beneath her, his name on her lips.

  “Ambrose,” she said in a strangled voice. “Yes!” He could feel the pulse of her orgasm around his cock inside her, and the communion was his undoing. With a matching shout he poured his release into her, stars in his eyes as he went momentarily blind from the pleasure.

  “And that,” Barnabas whispered when it was over and Ambrose had collapsed on top of Mel, who was hugging him tightly, “is the beauty of a man and woman’s pleasure reached together.”

  He kissed Ambrose and Mel on the shoulders, caressed Ambrose from nape to bottom, and then patted his rump. “Now roll off her and let’s all get some sleep right here. The morning will be here soon, and none of us are prepared to face it.”

  Chapter 23

  “Lord Wetherald,” Lady Vanessa said as she rose from the settee and held her hand out to him. “I was surprised to receive your note this morning. What an unexpected pleasure.”

  She was lovely as usual, tall and lithe, a cool, blonde beauty. She wore an ethereal pink ensemble that made her look like an angel. He was struck again by how unsuited they would have been had she accepted his offer of marriage years ago. She had needed the passionate Mr. Gabriel and the brooding Mr. Wilkes to bring out the best in her, the caring woman who had been locked inside by society’s strictures. Ambrose would not have changed her for the better as they had. They were too alike, he and Lady Vanessa. They each would have suffered and suffocated in silence for fear of wounding each other with their unhappiness. But they had found a friend in the other, and for each of them that was far more precious.

  “My dear Lady Vanessa,” he said, kissing her hand. “It is always delightful to see you.” She looked taken aback at his effusive greeting. He realized in the past he’d been far more reserved with her.

  “Please sit down,” she said a
s she sat, indicating the seat next to her. Ambrose sat, not sure how to broach the subject that had brought him here. “Tea?” Lady Vanessa asked, breaking the silence.

  “Yes, please,” Ambrose said with relief. She rang the bell and ordered tea. When they were alone again she turned to him with a smile.

  “I find a nice hot cup of tea makes any conversation easier.” Her smile was inviting. Ambrose licked his lips nervously.

  “Yes, well. I have just come from Sir Barnabas’s.”

  “Oh, indeed? And how is Melinda?” she asked in genuine concern. “She does not like me to visit too often, but I worry. Like a mother hen.”

  “She prefers Mel,” he said with a frown. “She does not care to be called Melinda anymore. She is not that girl anymore.”

  Lady Vanessa’s eyes widened. “I see,” she said. “I did not realize. She never told me.”

  “I don’t think she tells anyone much these days,” he said in frustration. Except when in the throes of passion, he added silently. She had said she adored him then.

  He and Barnabas had woken before the sun and crept back to Barnabas’s room, leaving Mel on the floor, thinking she would sleep late. But when they were at breakfast she came bustling in, playing the housekeeper and apologizing for her lateness. Neither he nor Barnabas had been pleased, and when Barnabas had ordered her to sit and eat she refused and it had almost turned into a row. Only Soames’s gentle interference had maintained the peace. Ambrose had been so upset at her cool demeanor and Barnabas’s irritability he’d been unable to say anything. What had happened between the darkest hours of the night and the bright light of morning?

  “Circumstances changed her,” Lady Vanessa said quietly. “Broke her, in fact, I think.”