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Authors: Renee Michaels

BOOK: Ménage a Must
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Inundated by sensation, her knees buckled. Molly grabbed onto Logan’s shoulders to keep herself upright. The taut need for release coiled in her belly like a tightly wound spring. “Now. Take me now.” She hooked her thigh over Logan’s hip, and wedged her derrière on Graeme’s crotch.

“Steady, lass, no need to be racing to the finish line when the ride will be so much sweeter at a canter,” Graeme murmured in her ear. He slid one arm under her knees and the other under her shoulders, lifted her, and lowered her into the steamy water. “You have half an hour. After that we’ll be coming for you.”

“But if you could shorten the waiting, I for one would appreciate it,” Logan requested, his voice hoarse, as though he were under a great deal of strain.

Graeme nodded in agreement. “Thirty minutes, lovey, and not a second more.” He handed her a bar of hand-milled soap, rich with the scent of French lavender. She lifted a brow in question.

He gave her a sly smile. “Don’t ask. Enjoy.” He gripped Logan by the arm and pulled him from the room.

Up to her neck in water, Molly watched them leave. Still aroused, but knowing fulfilment was only half an hour away, she began her ablutions and went over several erotic scenarios in her imaginative mind.

Chapter Four

 

 

 

Molly soaped her arms, torso and legs. She rinsed out the rag and washed between her legs. Her body hummed in response to each swipe as she cleansed herself. The nubby material slid over her sensitised clitoris and a sharp delicious bliss pooled in her groin. Tremors racked her body as a small orgasm raced through her.

She’d always been swift to arouse and even quicker to attain her release. Molly jammed two of her fingers deep inside her passage, to cleanse and to stroke the flesh there to keep her arousal at this apex.

She wouldn’t keep the men waiting any longer. Clean and refreshed by her bath, excited by what was to come, she stood up in the tub. Molly looked around for something to dry herself with, but didn’t see anything handy.

“Ah, Graeme?” she called out and he stepped into the room with only a towel wrapped around his hips. A sparse dusting of hair covered his chest and muscular legs. The cloth tented at his groin and she sent him a smirk.

“Trying to preserve your modesty?”

“I didn’t want to astound you with my attributes.” He wiggled his heavy brows at her, a false leer on his face.

“I’ve lost the ability to be shocked. The only thing I fear is being disappointed.” She fixed her attention on his groin. “And somehow I don’t believe I will be.”

Graeme chuckled as he approached her with a length of towelling draped over his hands. He gripped her waist, lifted her from the bathtub and dried her briskly. “I thought you’d soak in the hot water as long as possible.”

“Should I have lingered in the tub?”

He grunted, the sound somewhere between denial and relief. “Hell no. If it wouldn’t seem unmanly, I’d whimper with gratitude.”

Molly undid the knot at his waist and allowed the inconsequential barrier to fall. She took hold of his bulky shaft, slid her hand down the rigid length and fondled his man-sac.

“Then let the pleasuring begin. Logan,” he called. His voice rasped out like a plane over wood. At Graeme’s summons, Logan entered the room, shirtless and bootless, the top two of his breeches buttons undone.

Logan handed Molly a goblet, and she took a tentative sip. The sweet wine slid over her tongue.

“Where did you come by this?”

“Don’t ask.” At the simultaneous and identical response, her brows shot up.

She sent them a shaming glance. “You could both lose your posts for helping yourselves to the contents of his lordship’s wine cellar.”

Logan offered her another drink. “For all you know, Glenhaven left the bottle here. We couldn’t offer you a tankard of brown ale on this special occasion.”

She took a deeper draught, and let the alcohol heat her blood. “Shall we retire to your sleeping quarters?”

“Now why would we do anything so humdrum?” Logan pulled a small vial from his pocket, poured a good dollop of its contents on his hand, and warmed the fluid by rubbing his palms together. He smoothed his hand over her shoulders and her arms.

Graeme’s hands slid down her back. The calluses on his palms added another layer of sensation to his caresses. They fondled her until she writhed, frantic with need, willing to do anything to ease the bundle of desire her body had become.

She fully expected them to lead her to the nearest bed. Instead they spun her around, lifted her, and perched her on the edge of an age-polished oak table. Graeme pushed her legs apart and knelt to press a fervent kiss on her plump mons. He blew a stream of his heated breath through the downy pelt shielding her womanhood. Each strand shifted to heighten her arousal.

Graeme peeled back her folds with his thumbs and covered her cleft with his mouth. He flattened the surface of his tongue on the part of her he’d exposed and worked the spear of muscle over her with skilful, greedy laps. Molly slung her legs over his shoulders and clamped his head between her thighs. He knew just the right rhythm to sweep his tongue over her, long and slow, until her soft cries escalated into a wail.

Logan pushed her upper body flat on the table, captured her mouth with his to silence her. He trailed his lips over the tense tendons in her neck, nibbled, and murmured the sweetest of nothings in her ear. He squeezed and moulded her breasts, plucked the tips, before he abandoned her neck to feast on the rosy buds. They grew tight, crinkled and moist from his suckling.

Molly wrapped her arms around Logan’s head and arched her back off the table to press more of her tit into the hot cavern that enveloped her pleasure spot. With teeth and tongues, they worked her into a mindless frenzy.

Graeme rose to his feet to stare down at her above Logan’s head, his face harsh, breath agitated. “I can’t wait any longer or I’ll spill my juices like a green boy about to get a taste of his first woman.”

He fitted the swollen crown between the damp wings of her pussy, rubbed it over her pearl, and dipped into her core. She winced as his cock stretched her to the point of an exquisite painfulness.

Molly gripped Graeme where he’d lodged himself into her. She wanted more, but there were things she must consider even though her mind was clouded by passion. Her unctuous fluids coated her hand, her fleshy tissue throbbed under her fingertips. She stroked the bulky rod. Graeme grimaced. His big body jerked above her.

“You must withdraw before you release your seed. I don’t want to be in the family way.”

Gritting his teeth, he dragged himself out with a grunt.

She tried to pull him back with her heels on his butt. “No, I need… My request was just a precaution.”

Graeme ginned down at her. “Greedy lass.” He held out his hand and Logan slapped a metal container into his palm.

Ahhh, French letters. Her country boys were more sophisticated than she’d thought. He removed a sheath from the tin, rolled it over his impressive cock and tied the ribbon at the base to secure it.

Logan stepped away from her to give them room. Graeme braced his arms on either side of her head, thrust into her. With each thrust he sank deeper, spreading her wider, filling her more.

When she felt he’d shoved the entire length of his shaft into her snug passage, he rammed a few more inches into her. The thick base of his member wedged tightly into her sheath. She imagined for an insane moment that he’d never be able to withdraw. However, he did, and fucked her at tit-jiggling pace. Molly grabbed onto his arms and locked her ankles in the small of Graeme’s back. Every plunge pushed them closer and closer to the blissful plateau they strove to reach.

Logan stood by them, working his hand over his staff, watching with an unabashed hunger. Molly held her hand out to him, palm up, and he slid his lance into her hand with a groan rife with gratitude. Logan’s cock was not as bulky as Graeme’s but no less impressive. Molly curled her fingers around his cock and swiped her thumb over the satiny head.

“If you come nearer I’ll do more than play with your pride and joy,” Molly promised with a kittenish flick of her tongue over her upper lip, and pulled him closer.

“Now, darling, aren’t you the soul of kindness to ease my suffering?” Lithe and eager, he scrambled up on the table, and brushed his cock over her lips.

Molly swirled her tongue over the salty knob. She relaxed her throat and allowed him to sink deep. She fisted the lower half of him to prevent herself from gagging.

Logan thrust and she suckled. Graeme pounded into her and she heaved up her hips to meet his.

One man above, one man below, caught between the dual sources of ecstasy, Molly surrendered to the bliss.

Logan growled in his throat. “It’s too good.” The first spurt of his jism hit the back of her throat and she swallowed with a delicate greed. He shuddered and sank his cock as far into her mouth as he could. He came, his body bucking like an unbroken horse.

Graeme’s bellow followed. His hips moved in short uncoordinated jerks. He slumped down on her, and buried his face between her breasts.

“Well, lass, do you still want to rush back?” Graeme mumbled, his flaccid cock still planted in her. He slid his hand up her leg in a caress intended to arouse.

Molly threaded her fingers through his sweat-dampened curls. “Well, that depends on what else you have in store for me.”

“He may not have kept anything in reserve. But I still have a yen for another taste of you.” Logan bent down and fused his mouth to hers, the musky taste of his fluids playing over her taste buds.

She broke the kiss and whispered, “Well then, I’d best linger a while longer.”

 

Chapter Five

 

 

 

Molly woke up with a hard cock pressed into the softness of her belly and another wedged between her thighs just below her nether lips. Lethargy brought on by total satiation weighted down her limbs. The soreness in her groin was a small price to pay for the extended bout of lovemaking she had enjoyed with her two enthusiastic lovers.

It was pitch black outside but the clock in her head told her she’d have to rise soon. Molly sat up, hearing the thud of footsteps approaching Graeme’s small bedroom. The rough-hewn door eased open, and the imposing figure of a man filled the doorway.

Molly let out a little yelp. The intruder held an oil lamp up and it cast a beam of light over the Earl of Glenhaven’s visage. His brows flew up but he recovered quickly and he sent her a roguish grin.

“Good morning, Molly. Kick Graeme out of bed, would you?”

She didn’t have to rouse Graeme. His arm tightened around her waist, he opened one bleary eye and frowned.

“Oh bollocks, it can’t be dawn already, we just fell asleep.”

“Not quite, but it seems you’ve forgotten our appointment. I can understand why you were distracted.” His lordship’s appreciative gaze slid over Molly’s nude body. “I hate to pull you away, but duty first.”

With a disgruntled snort, Graeme sat up, pressed a kiss on Molly’s swollen lips and rolled off the love-rumpled sheets. “Logan, get your arse up and see to it Molly finds her way to her quarters before the rest of the household rises.”

Face still buried in the pillow, Logan mumbled, “You two go on ahead. Molly and I will snuggle a bit.”

“No, you won’t. Graeme’s right. There’ll be hell to pay if Mrs Calder catches a whiff of where she spent the night. Besides, I need a horse saddled to ride down to the magistrate as soon as we capture the poachers.”

“I have a good hour yet,” Logan groused.

Unashamedly nude, Graeme stalked over to the washstand, poured water from a pitcher into the basin, and started to wash. He scrubbed his face, bathed his torso and his erect cock.

“Would it have killed you, my lord, to have waited another hour?”

“Maybe if I’d known you had such delectable company. On the other hand, since I spent the night alone in my lordly bed…” Glenhaven grinned with a hint of a taunt. “I find I can’t muster any remorse for removing you from Molly’s sweet embrace.”

“Jealous bastard,” Graeme accused without any heat in his voice.

“Yes, I’m green with envy.” The earl’s attention shifted back to Molly. Concern clouded his eyes. “You have bruises on your arms and neck. Did these two reprobates coerce you to do anything you didn’t want to do?”

“You know damned well we’d never do anything so low. You’ve shared a lass or two with us.” Logan sat up and glared at his employer.

“No, my lord, I was more than willing. I may even have instigated quite a bit of our love play.”

Molly was intrigued—a member of the peerage who took an in interest in the well-being of those in service. In her experience, blue-blooded young bucks habitually forced themselves on the vulnerable female staff. This lordling seemed to be a better gent than most. He might just be what Annabelle needed. Molly would do her damnedest to smooth their path to matrimony.

“Miss Annabelle is horse mad, your lordship. Perhaps you could take her for a ride when you return,” Molly blurted out, giving in to the impulse to get her mistress’s courtship on track.

The earl did his best to hide his grimace, but didn’t quite manage to mask it. Molly realised she’d overstepped the bounds of propriety, as servants didn’t make demands of their betters, but she forged on. “She is not what she seems, my lord.”

“What do you mean?”

Encouraged, Molly took a gamble. “On your first meeting, did Miss Annabelle respond to any attempt at a conversation with a monosyllable, stare blankly just above your shoulder, and fix a vacuous smile on her face?”

“As a matter of fact she did, but to what end?”

“It’s for you to find out the whys, my lord.” Molly grinned. She had planted a seed, pricked his pride and curiosity. The man and not the lord would seek the answers and the hunt, or rather the wooing, would begin. Molly chuckled. If she didn’t have two such fine playmates, she’d almost envy Annabelle the delight of the earl’s pursuit.

“If you will, Molly, pass on an invitation to join me for a ride.”

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