Dedication
To Michael, for always understanding and supporting my weird quirks, my mini-meltdowns and my dreams.
Chapter One
Vivien Manning spent her twenty-ninth birthday in the same manner as she had done the past three years. First, breakfast on the veranda of her London home overlooking the park. Then a morning of shopping with friends who had come bearing gifts which both delighted and surprised her. Finally, she capped off the day with a gathering she hosted each year to launch the Season. And now…well, now the time had come for her usual ending to the special day.
She looked across the room at the two naked men waiting for her on her bed. Two more different gentlemen there could not be. One was Trevor Smithing, the first footman of a friend who had bestowed him as her “gift” a few hours before. The very handsome first footman, probably eight years her junior with pale blue eyes and blond hair.
The other was Seymour Lawrence, tall, dark, with eyes the color of midnight. He was a wicked, wicked man, in more ways than one. A merchant who had worked his way up the ranks to riches beyond his wildest desire, he had been pursuing her for months and had finally agreed to this one-time tryst rather than a long-term arrangement.
Vivien shivered as she slipped her robe from her shoulders and presented her naked flesh to the men.
“Mmm,” Lawrence purred as he stroked his hard, generous cock. “Even better than I imagined.”
Vivien laughed as she moved toward the bed. Trevor stepped toward her, catching her in his arms when she was in reach and dragging her against him for a surprisingly passionate kiss. Vivien relaxed into the embrace. She’d been told tales of the sensual footman and his talents at pleasing ladies, and thus far his reputation lived up to its billing.
As he sucked her tongue and tasted every inch of her mouth, she felt hands come around her from behind. Lawrence stroked her hips with delicate caresses, even as he arched against her. When his tongue came out to trace her neck, she broke from Trevor’s kiss with a gasp of breath.
“Shhh,” the servant urged her as he cupped her face. “Just feel, Vivien. There is no need to do anything but feel.”
She blinked as she stared at him. Once another man had said something similar. Another man on another night…
She shook her head. She was not about to ruin her birthday with thoughts of that. Instead she shut her eyes and returned her lips to his.
She drove the kiss this time, despite his reassurances that all she need do was feel. That wasn’t her nature. It never had been. She took what she wanted and tonight she wanted to forget and to come.
Lawrence chuckled from behind her and glided his fingertips up her sides until he stroked her breasts. His hands cupped her, squeezing her flesh, tweaking her nipples between a thumb and forefinger. Her breath shortened and her knees went weak at the pleasure created by his touch coupled with Trevor’s deep, erotic kiss.
“Now lie back,” Trevor whispered as he nudged her toward the big bed. She’d had it designed specifically for pleasure. It was wider than the average bed and nearly filled the chamber. She took her place against the pillows as the men joined her, one on each side of her.
“Open your legs,” Lawrence demanded, pressing a quick, hot kiss to her mouth.
She nodded and slid down a little, parting her legs to reveal a sex already slick and ready. Both men looked down her body with admiring expressions. She watched as they looked at each other, silent communication passing between them as to how to best take advantage of this brief and highly coveted night in her bed. After all, men fought over the right to be a part of her birthday pleasures.
This birthday, she had chosen exceedingly well.
In tandem, they slid down her body, Trevor moved slower as he glided his mouth over her collarbone, her chest, and finally settled at her breast, sucking one nipple between his lips and scraping his teeth over the already sensitive flesh.
Vivien gasped out her approval of this movement, but the gasp just as quickly turned to a moan as Lawrence reached her sex. He used his thumbs to spread her outer lips open and she jolted at the touch. But the feeling was nothing compared to when he brought his tongue down against her and began to lick her pussy.
She lifted her hips to match his rhythm as her head began to rock back and forth against the pillows. Pleasure circled, slow and steady around her body, focusing where each man took his turn in creating it.
But what Trevor was doing didn’t seem enough for him. He glided lower, dragging his mouth down her stomach, her hip until he too lay just before the sex presented to him.
“Share?” he murmured.
Her eyes flew open as she watched the two men, lying close together, lock eyes. She shivered at the desire that coursed between them all, not limited to anything but pleasure. Lawrence nodded and moved over so that Trevor could take a place at her sex. The servant put his mouth where Lawrence had once been, while Lawrence instead slid two fingers deep within her clenching sheath and began to pump inside her with gentle, building pressure.
“You’re going to come,” Lawrence told her, lifting his gaze to look at her.
“I most certainly am if you two continue like this,” she gasped.
Lawrence had been most skilled at his oral pleasurings, but Trevor was a marvel. He was more driven to make her explode and focused his tongue right on her tingling clitoris. Added to Lawrence’s ministrations deep within her body and she was ready to find release for what she hoped would be the first of many times this night.
It reached her in subtle waves, little burst of pleasure. She arched her back and moaned through it, but in truth the release wasn’t as powerful as she had hoped it would be.
But then, that had been true of all her orgasms for some time.
She pursed her lips as the pleasure of her lovers’ tongues and fingers slowed and ceased, then leaned up on her elbows to look at the men.
“Gentlemen, I would greatly like to feel you both inside of me.”
Lawrence laughed, while Trevor’s eyes went wide before he nodded.
“That is what I’ve always liked about you, Vivien,” Lawrence said as he lay down on his back and dragged her across to straddle him. “You demand what you want.”
Vivien smiled, but inside her stomach clenched. He was not lying, of course. She had built an entire empire around demanding and taking what she desired. But in her most secret heart, she often wished someone would give her what she needed without her being forced to take the lead.
Her thoughts were mercifully interrupted when Lawrence cupped the back of her head and dragged her down for another deep and passionate kiss. She pushed everything else away and shifted her position over his body. His hard cock nudged her entrance already, but she made no move to take him inside. She had all night for this pleasure.
Trevor watched them for a few moments, then he moved behind her with a moan of desire that seemed to reverberate through her even though he hadn’t even touched her yet. When he did, that pleasure doubled, tripled. He knelt behind her and pressed two wetted fingers to her backside.
The jolt of sensation made Vivien’s eyes go wide and she broke her mouth from Lawrence’s to throw her head over her shoulders with a gasp of surprise and pleasure.
“Most excellent,” Lawrence growled as he tugged her back to him. “Shall we begin?”
She met his wicked gaze with one of her own and then shifted, guiding his cock to her soaking entrance and taking him inside her. He was a large man, thick and long, and she eased herself into position, taking him inch by inch, wiggle by wiggle, until he was fully seated within her clenching, aching sheath.
She
already felt impossibly full, but this first possession was only the beginning. Trevor’s slow readying of her backside had continued all throughout her taking of Lawrence’s cock and she peeked back at him to smile.
“Should I?” he asked, revealing a brief glimpse of the servant still living within him.
“By all means,” she groaned as she lifted her ass slightly to allow him greater access. “I’m ready. Are you?”
Lawrence grinned up at her. “Very much ready to explode, oh yes.”
She forced her body to relax, even though she pulsed with sexual tension, and then nodded to Trevor. He placed a warm hand on the bare small of her back and then pressed the head of his swollen cock to her bottom. The tight muscle of the rosette entryway gave way with gentle encouragement and he began to breach her in the most forbidden way.
Vivien gasped as the pain of the entry crossed into pleasure. She was so full she almost didn’t know what to do or how to react. All she could do was feel these two men as Trevor buried himself and they all held still, panting together.
“Oh my God,” the servant moaned from behind her. “I can feel everything.”
Lawrence laughed and flexed his hips for a slow thrust that had both Trevor and Vivien moaning in time. And with that, slow was gone, thinking was gone, wonder was gone. The men began to take her, their rhythm matched so that as one cock slid away, the other drove forward. All Vivien could do was hold on as the pleasure built within her shaking body.
But even as that pleasure built, it remained muted. She squeezed her eyes shut, reaching for more, concentrating on the sensations with all her might. But although she could reach the edge of orgasm, nothing could push her over. Not the two cocks inside her, not the way Lawrence sucked her breasts as they made love, not the gasping groans of Trevor behind her.
Frustration built within her. Over the years, she had begun to resort to wilder sexual antics just so she could feel something. But there was only one thing that made her feel. Made her come. Made her wild.
But she couldn’t think of that one thing. She refused. It was too dangerous.
And yet, as the pleasure stalled, she found herself picturing that one thing. That one man.
Benedict Greystone.
She saw him in her mind, leaning over her, pleasuring her, holding her and her body finally found release. She screamed as her orgasm tore through her from every side, rocking her hips out of control and milking each man with her spasms.
Neither of them could resist the pull of her strokes. Trevor withdrew first, the cream of his release spurting into his hand and across her sheets. With a few pounding thrusts, Lawrence followed suit, jerking free of her to spend between their sweaty bodies.
She flopped away from Lawrence to lie on her back against the pillows, her hand across her eyes. Her body still tingled, her limbs were heavy from pleasure, yet she silently cursed herself for what she had been driven to do to find that pleasure.
Benedict Greystone was not an appropriate subject of fantasy. He could not continue to make inroads into her dreams and her desire. There was nothing good to come of it.
“Was that an experience worthy of a birthday, Vivien?” Lawrence asked as he pressed a kiss to her throat and got to his feet.
She smiled up at him and at Trevor, who followed suit. She watched both men dress, marveling at how well built they each were, no matter how differently they were put together.
“Oh yes,” she reassured them both. “Most fitting of a birthday. Thank you both for making it memorable.”
Trevor finished dressing the fastest and gave her a quick bow. He had already returned to full servant mode.
“Miss Vivien, thank you again.”
She nodded as he slipped from the room and left her alone with Lawrence. He looked down at her with a grin.
“A most proper exit for a man whose cock was just seated in your ass.”
She laughed. “He did his duty and now he returns home. I’m certain his mistress won’t allow him to sleep in just because he fucked me tonight, whether she encouraged it or not!”
“And what of me—do you wish me to leave you just as abruptly?” the other man asked.
She gazed up at him. He was uncommonly handsome, yes. Five years ago she might have allowed him to take the role of her protector, as he kept asking her to do.
But it wasn’t five years ago. Or even three years ago. This was today and she was no longer the same person.
“Yes,” she said with as kind a smile as she could muster. “We talked about this, Seymour. I am not seeking pleasure for more than a night at a time. You will find yourself a very fitting mistress. I can even assist you if you’d like. I’m known for that sort of thing, after all.”
Lawrence grinned and shook his head. “You are determined to keep your independence, aren’t you? I rather like that about you, my dear. Don’t fret over me, I shall not demand you match me with someone else. And I will leave you now to your first morning of a new year. But do call on me if you change your mind.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and departed the room, leaving Vivien alone. The first day of a new year of her life. A countdown to thirty, which seemed utterly ancient to her now.
And as she wrapped the sheets around herself, she had never felt so empty in her life.
Chapter Two
Light peeked through the gap in Vivien’s curtain. She remained in her bed, though there was no rest to be found there. She had not slept since her visitors had departed a few hours before. She should have been sleeping in, luxuriating in the satisfaction of sin and pleasure.
Instead, she found herself restless and discontented, not by the pleasures of the night, but by her…life.
It was an odd feeling and she jerked herself out of bed to ring for her maid. As she pulled on a robe, she paced the room, trying to block out feelings that burned inside her.
How could she be dissatisfied? She had spent years, almost a decade, actually, building her life up to the standard she now kept. She had always taken pride in the vast fortune she had built and the reputation she had cultivated.
The door to her chamber opened and she turned to face the servant with a false smile.
“Good morning, Rachel. I believe I would like to start the day with a bath.”
The young woman, her servant and companion for five years, stared at her as if she had sprouted a second head.
“What is it?” Vivien asked, perhaps a bit sharper than she should. “Why should you look at me in such a way?”
The girl scuttled into the adjoining room and rang the bell for hot water to be brought. “I’m sorry, Miss Vivien,” she said with a shake of her head. “I only haven’t ever known you to be up before seven before.”
Vivien groaned. “Dear God, is it that early?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Rachel said as she bustled for thick towels and soap. “It may take the staff a bit of time to ready the water. They won’t be but just starting their day, you see.”
Vivien moved into the room and sank into the lounge by the fire with a heavy sigh. She stared at Rachel.
“I hadn’t thought,” she said, apology thick in her voice. “There is no rush, I simply…couldn’t sleep.”
The girl turned toward her and there was concern in her dark eyes. “You have seemed…out of sorts lately.”
Vivien flinched. She had very few people she confided in. Even her best friend Mariah and their newest friend Lysandra did not truly know all about her. No one did—she made sure of that fact. But outside of her friends, she did trust her servants. And she believed they truly cared for her.
After all, with what they saw, they all had ample opportunity to destroy her if they desired to do so. None ever had, even servants who had been dismissed from her employment over the years.
“Have I been out of sorts?” Vivien asked.
Perhaps if she hashed this out with another person, she might uncover the source of her recent melancholy.
The maid nodded. “
Of course, no one else in the world would see it, ma’am. No one who comes to this house or sees you in public ever says anything except that you are the most beautiful and accomplished woman of your kind.”
Vivien smiled, but inside her stomach clenched. Her kind. There was no doubt what that meant.
“But you can see something more,” she said.
Rachel waited until the first set of servants had come with steaming-hot water. Once they had dumped it into the tub and departed to fetch more, she continued.
“Yes, I can. It seems you have been different since Miss Mariah…I mean, since Mrs. Rycroft’s marriage.”
Vivien pushed to her feet in shock. Had this out-of-sorts feeling truly begun almost a year ago? She would not have said it herself, but now that Rachel had, the date rang true.
“But I am exceedingly happy for Mariah,” she whispered, more to herself than to Rachel.
She’d had a small hand in Mariah’s match with her new husband, John Rycroft. Just as she had with Viscountess Lysandra Callis and her husband Andrew. Her reputation as a mistress matchmaker had been damaged by those two marriages in two years, but both women deserved their happiness. So she ignored the “Mistress Matchmaker turned Marriage Matchmaker” whispers and instead smiled at her friends and their intensely obvious joy.
“Of course you are!” Rachel insisted as the second set of water was poured into the tub. Now it was more than half full and steaming.
Once the men with buckets had gone, Vivien slipped from her robe and stepped into the water. Her aching muscles relaxed in the warmth and she settled back against the curved tub to stare up at the ceiling.
“And yet, I cannot deny that seeing not one but two of my matches end in love has made me—” She broke off, for the word on her tongue was jealous.
But that couldn’t be correct. She had no desire for love or marriage or anything permanent. As Seymour Lawrence had said to her not five hours before, she valued her independence. She would not surrender that for something so fleeting.
Her Perfect Match: Mistress Matchmaker, Book 3 Page 1
