Cecilia's Claim (8 page)

Her pulse raced as if she were a child once more, pounding the
lawns at Gretton Court, chasing Randall and trying to catch her breath as he
danced away from her. Her skin prickled as if someone was running holly leaves
over it, each sharp edge adding a shard of anticipation to her overworked
imagination. She took a deep breath, walked toward him and knelt. It may not be
to her taste, however, she reasoned, she may enjoy some of it.

After all if it includes his
prick in me, I will do. And surely if both of them are so certain their desires
are arousing and fulfilling, then I can try them and see? I must grow up, and
this is my chance to begin.

"Like this?" By intuition, Cecy tucked her knees under
her and clasped her hand at the base of her spine. She could only hope her
trembling and trepidation didn’t show. What if they once more asked for more
than she felt she could give? Their previous conversation came back to her, and
she looked up at Caleb's expressionless face. There was no way of telling what
he thought.

"What if I can't accept what you want?"

"You'll tell me. I'll listen, we'll discuss it." He
touched her head and stroked her cheek. "I think you need much more than
you realize, love. However we will do nothing that you truly can't accept. To
this end, remember, if you are not sure or wish to query something, say battle.
If you truly cannot go further, say Waterloo." The reference to the
recently fought skirmish made her smile.

"I'll remember those."

"And Cecy?"
Caleb tipped her chin up and
stared at her. "You will use them if you feel the need. It will be
uncharted territories for you; we accept that.
To a
certain extend for us as well, because we may know what we enjoy, but if it is
not an enjoyment for you as well, all pleasure is lost. Are you sure you want
to go ahead?"

Damn the man, now I am
all-fired ready, he starts to dissemble.

"I've said
so,
perhaps I need a get
on with it or else word?"

Caleb laughed. "And perhaps you need to remember not to push
your luck. If I ask you if you're at ease and comfortable with what's
happening, just say peace."

Cecy remembered Caleb had been a dragoon before he sold out to
manage his estates and be the local magistrate. It was no wonder he chose such
key words.

"Well, 'tis peace so far."

 
"So far we have done
nothing." Caleb said. Humor laced his voice. "Stand up, so I can put
your cloak under you."

He waited as she scrambled to her feet, conscious that she might
not be the most elegant person in the world. Cecy had been too much of a hoyden
to pay attention to the deportment and etiquette lessons drummed into her by a
succession of governesses and schoolteachers. She watched through her lashes as
he spread her cloak across the grass, and then rolled her shawl up and placed
it in the middle of the garment. The position puzzled her, but for some
inexplicable reason Cecy decided not to ask. This new commanding Caleb made her
juices gather, and her heartbeat speed up. How had she never seen this side of
him before? Always he had been a kind and considerate lover, able to extract
every last emotion from her, but never in such a compelling way. Her channel
contracted at the thought that once more she was going to experience those
highs.

Caleb turned from where he had added her petticoat to the shawl.

"This will have to do. Lie on your stomach and rest it on the
pile of clothing love. Then draw your knees up and show off your luscious arse
for me. Yes 'tis all new to you I know, but this is where the trust begins. I
will not blindfold you or bind you," he paused. "As long as you do as
I ask.
Your word?"

For a moment Cecy wasn't able to process his words, then, heart
thudding, she knelt down and did her best to do as he had asked. It felt
strange. It wasn't uncomfortable just different. How could she bend forward and
let her nether regions be so…so…obvious?

"Cecy, your word or we stop."

"Oh right, er...peace."

"Good.
If you rest on your arms like
so."
Caleb helped her to lean forward and propped her chin on her
crossed arms. "There, is that comfortable?"

Cecy considered. "Yes, peace it is."

A tap on her arse cheek made her jump. Not soft, not hard just…
Lord, that is arousing.

"Lift yourself off your knees now, love." She did as
Caleb asked and felt his hands move her legs apart until there was a small gap
between them. Due to the way she was positioned she couldn't see what he was
doing, but his hands caressed her back, her arse and then, to her intense
pleasure he slipped one then two fingers into her wet channel. Cecy clenched
her muscles around his digits to enhance her pleasure.

Another tap to her arse this time on the other cheek made her
gasp. How could she like that? Caleb withdrew his fingers and Cecy wanted to
cry. Had she spoiled everything? She was sure she remembered both Caleb and
Philippe praising her for participating in their lovemaking and not being a
silent and uninvolved partner.

There was a rustle she couldn't place, and then Caleb lifted her
head and placed his shirt under her cheek.

"If you want to scream your enjoyment, I fear here is perhaps
not the place to do so," Caleb said. "As safe as I believe it is,
there's no point in risking it. Bite on my shirt if the need overwhelms you.
Believe me those enticing moans and gasps are making my cock hard and weep. I
look forward to hearing you give full rein to your emotions soon. For now
however it will be a test of your determination to climax in silence."

"Unless you fill me it will be nigh on impossible.
To do either."

"That is true." The immediate thrust of his prick inside
her, and the rhythm he set near took her breath away.

She bit on the shirt.

Chapter Seven

Philippe washed his hands and face with the water in the ewer, and
felt marginally cleaner. He hated what he had to do at times, but even though
Napoleon was defeated, Britain was not considered to be safe. His role with the
Covernant Gang, as go-between and aide, was more than people realized. Only
Gabriel Covernant, Caleb, and a certain Lord Gretton had any inkling of the
difficult path he walked. The thought of that lord made his mouth firm. Life
was not easy or likely to become so.

He had received his contraband as well as the information he had
hoped not to get, and passed the obligatory half hour with Gabriel Covernant
and his seconds—and a bottle of newly smuggled brandy—before Gabriel and his
men had left with casual farewells. Gabriel had passed on the expected date of
the next deliveries of silks and lace, but hadn't mentioned what else would be
smuggled, and Philippe didn't ask. That wouldn't be known until he had the
information in his hands. Neither he nor Gabriel had been able to find out who
was the instigator of the demands for the smuggled goods, but as the Covernant
Gang brought in their own haul of wine and spirits along with the goods
demanded, Philippe's boss was content to let it be so for the moment. The
epistles that Philippe received and passed on to his superior were important
and saved many a life. Even though they needed to stop the passing of goods
that could upset the economy of the realm, those letters were worth more than
all the lace and silk combined.

 
Philippe threw his towel
onto the washstand and strode down the passageway in the same direction that
Caleb and Cecilia had taken earlier. As he strode out his steps were sure in
the gloom. There was no chance of an unexpected meeting in there. His visitors
had used the steep path up the cliff side on the far side of the house. One
unseen from the land and only visible from the sea for a few short yards, it
was considered safe to use at any time. To head inland was not so easy, hence
the passage.

He stepped out of the corridor secured the door, and moved into
the trees just as Cecy and Caleb had done a short while earlier. Philippe mused
on the coming days. There was no doubt he was going to be busy, not only with
his work for the crown, but also Cecy would need careful attention. A noise
stopped his progress, and he stood just inside the tree line. What he saw dried
his mouth and made daggers of arousal prick his skin as he feasted his eyes on
the cock-tightening view ahead.

Without knowing he was doing so, Philippe undid his breeches and
took his prick into his hand. In a circular motion he touched the tip with one
finger. Slowly, almost reverently he collected the liquid there, and coated his
palm, before he stroked himself from tip to ballocks and back. In front of him,
Caleb thrust into Cecy, each inward stroke pushing her down onto her arms.
Philippe mimicked each action with a firm stroke of his hands.

Something must have alerted Caleb to Philippe's presence, because
he looked toward Philippe and nodded, one eyebrow raised. Even though his
concentration had been disturbed, his rhythm never altered. Philippe's mouth
was dry, as his body prickled with the intensity of his need for release. His
boots were discarded with scant thought of their blacking, and his breeches
followed suit. The ties on his shirt would not give way to his fumbling
fingers, so he took hold of the neckband and pulled down until the material
tore from to bottom and shrugged out of it.

Although Cecy had her eyes closed and seemed totally involved in
her feelings, Philippe approached the couple with care.

Caleb had brought his hands around Cecy and was playing with her
nipples, pinching and soothing in turn. Philippe walked to the other couple and
knelt on one side of Cecy.

 
As Caleb moved his hands,
Philippe put hands where Caleb's had been. Cecy's nipples were hard tight nubs
under his fingers, and he nipped to feel them tighten against his palm.

 
"Ah,
so different."
Her words were so soft he had to strain to hear
them. Caleb noted his glance.
"Your word?"
Caleb asked her. For one long, heart-stopping moment Philippe thought she might
not answer.

"I am at peace my lord."

Caleb glanced at Philippe, anxiety in both his look and his
demeanor. Philippe ignored the entreaty. He pinched each nipple hard. Cecy took
a deep indrawn breath and opened her eyes to look at him. Their glazed, clouded
covering changed to one of suspicion.

"Why did I not guess…
Battle.
It has
to be battle." Her words ended on a sigh.

Both Philippe and Caleb stopped what they were doing. Cecy pushed
back at Caleb. "I am at peace with your cock in me, although peace is a
misnomer. But…" She stopped speaking. With a wry smile Caleb picked up his
rhythm again.

"Shall I watch?" Philippe asked. "I'm happy not to
participate as long as you get release.
This time.
Next time who knows?"

Cecy looked at him. Once again her eyes weren't focused, and
Philippe wondered if she could see him at all.

"You'd do that for me?" she asked in a soft voice that
made the hairs on his nape stand on end.

"Ah love, we'd do almost anything for you. I draw the line at
killing for no reason, but other than that?" He shrugged. "We are
yours to command."

Her cheeks flushed a rosy red, the color he would love to see her
arse. A mix of emotions crossed her face and not for the first time he wished
he knew what was going on in her mind.

"Then close your eyes." Cecy said in an undertone, but
with steel in her tone.

He glanced at Caleb, who seemed as puzzled as Philippe by her
answer.

"My eyes?"

"That M. Le Compte is what
I
said.
You
said you were mine to
command. Therefore…" She raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow, and moaned
softly as Caleb increased the speed of his thrusts.

Much against his inclination, Philippe closed his eyes. To be on
the receiving end of an order was somewhat alien to him. Even his superiors
gave him a great deal of leeway.
For Cecy to act thus was a
departure, and one he rather admired.

"Thank you. Now, ah for the love of God more… more… now
Monsieur…" she gasped out the words. "Now you may look… ahh…"

 
The scream she was surely
to utter was cut off abruptly. Philippe opened his eyes and stared at the
glorious sight of his lover pounding into the one other person he hoped would
become his lover again.

The shirt between Cecy's teeth was mangled, and her hands fisted
the edges. Philippe's prick was wet with his juices, his seed threatened to
spill, and he was hard pressed to hold back. His palms ached to touch Cecy, his
cock ached to fill Caleb, and his body was on fire with the need that consumed
him.

Caleb's eyes were closed and he held tight to Cecy's waist. She
moved her hands to her own nipples and Philippe watched as she took hold of
each nub and pinched, harder it seemed than he had dared.