Regency Rogues Omnibus (69 page)

“It was arousing, Orchid. My cock could feel more, the pounding of my stallion.”

Yum.
Gabriella eyed the manly attachment that Drummond spoke of as it leaped out of the material he tugged away from it. Pounding indeed, she thought, as an answering throb beat in her pussy. Just the hard jut of Drummond’s bared cock had her seeping, but she needed control, and she had thought of that, even going so far as to help herself to a fingering climax in her bath just a short time before. Only it was not working!

She nearly got irritable at the power of Drummond’s cock over her. Then, she thought, perhaps if she just could not see it. “Lay down here, my handsome slave, on your stomach.”

Gabriella patted the mink cloak beside her, watching Drummond eyeing it, as he strode with rippling grace toward their bed. He was well fit for a man in his mid-fifties, with his short distinguished silver hair. Drummond was a sensual master, and he knew her appreciation for his physique. So, he used it to his every advantage as he crawled up onto their bed by flexing his male muscles just a bit more than necessary. With a heated breath, she nearly used a command to stop him in that position.

But his eyes told her that he knew what she was feeling, and he was slightly arrogant about nearly snatching the power back between them. That challenged her, and she changed her mind about his position because of it.

“Stay,” she commanded softly and Drummond stilled on his hands and knees, not lowering onto his belly. His gray eyes turned more peppery with sexual tension, and she realized that her command for him to kneel had just turned her back into the master. “Kiss me, amour, tongue me deep,” she ordered with a husky purr in her voice.

The sinew on Drummond’s upper arms rippled as he leaned forward with his gaze fixed on her lips. “Yes, madame.”

Without warning Drummond’s large masculine tongue aggressively thrust into her mouth. Gabriella nearly backed away from that the driving force, thinking Drummond was a true sexual devil. She moaned around his tongue as he took her mouth deeply. The well in her pussy twirled tight with heavy and insistent aches.

She nearly forgot to stop, caught in the sexual thrust and parry of Drummond’s tongue. However, then he chuckled deeply, and with inherent arrogance, as he was wont to do when his senses were alerted to her near surrender. That chuckle was enough to break the spell, and she lifted her hands to his muscle-packed shoulders, pushing as she drew her mouth away.

“Enough, slave!” Her voice encompassed a light pant as she looked deep into Drummond’s heavy-lidded and sexually sparking gaze. Having her love slave sexually excite her was not going to work, because he would have her bedded before she knew what had happened.

No,
she needed to seduce Drummond, too play with him! That was what she deeply desired. She wanted him to groan and pant. There were too few times when she’d wrestled control from him and made him carnally mindless, as he was such an expert to do to her. However, it was a fine edge that she walked, because she understood, deep inside herself, that Drummond did not find sexual gratification in his surrender, but in her surrender. She could tease him and play on the edges of his control, but not go too far.

“Your body is so arousing, Drummond.” She stood and began stroking down his firm back. “I am not sure if you like this position, but it is highly arousing from my view,” she purred, as her gaze fixed on his arching male shaft.

She stroked her hand over his tight buttocks. “Not really, Orchid.”

“Mm.” Gabriella stroked the other cheek of Drummond’s ass. Then, she gave it a light pat. “Lay down then, amour, and feel the softness of the mink on your hard cock.”

Surprise!
Drummond nearly lost a groan of bliss as the mink enveloped the heat of his rigid dick. He eased gingerly down against the stiffness not wanting to bend. His instant desire was to hump the mink as he felt Gabriella climbing over his back to straddle his hips.
Christ.
He’d taught Gabriella too many sensual tricks and now with her creative and fertile mind unfettered to do anything she could imagine sexually . . . he was in for it!

And he loved it.
He might not survive, but what a way to go. Drummond felt Gabriella’s bare pussy on his buttocks as she settled in with a lust-filled undulation. Then, his lust filled. Frothing over. Tightly reined. Then, he felt her drizzling oil on his back with her massaging hands following. He laid his head to the side and fought his tension to relax. He knew this carnal teasing well. Raise sexual tension to the breaking point, then relax it. Then ... raise it again higher. Oh yes! He had taught his wife too well, and he was definitely in for it.

“Feel good, my sexy slave? It feels good to me.”

“Madame, I am yours.”

Drummond played along with the game, and while Gabriella’s hands kneading his back felt excellent, the movements of her denuded pussy riding his ass was most assuredly wreaking havoc. She enjoyed it also because he could feel her helping the undulations along and not all propelled by her massaging. The softness of her bare pussy was incredible. He could feel the plump, heated outline, and the dampness she exuded.

Without intent, his hips humped, riding his cock through the mink’s plushness and Gabriella with up and down movements on his ass. His fingers curled beneath his cheek where his chin rested. When he realized what he had done, he strained not to do it again.

Gabriella purred above him with her fingers digging deep into his muscular back. “Do not rein it in, my amour, let it free.”

Oh, he wanted to
, but more than that, he wanted soft pussy around his cock. Gabriella leaned forward with the tips of her nipples scoring his oily back, while her lips kissed the side of his mouth. Her hands dug deep, massaging lower on his back, and then she rose and scooted lower over the hump of his ass. He could feel sweet hot pussy rubbing all the way, making his mouth water. Then, he felt more oil poured onto the small of his back.

“Joelle, told us all of course,” Gabriella murmured above him as her fingers began kneading his lower back, the motion moving his hips in barely perceptible thrusts, which connected to his cock.

Now?
Now, she brings this up,
Drummond thought, trying to change mental gears. Failing, he decided his wife was too clever by far.

“It is a horrible, shocking story, Drummond. Thank God, they are alive. I think Joelle fits Saxon to my view, like a glove.”

Her hands moved to the top of his buttocks, spreading more warm oil and allowing it to slowly run down the crease between the cheeks of his ass. It was then, he discovered a new, “erotic zone” on his body. Who knew? Then, his hips humped, lightly stroking his throbbing cock into the mink. By god, the experience was sensual, he had to give his wife that! And he knew she was not through yet.

Drummond tried to find his voice, but it rasped, “You are not going with the Archangels or be involved.”

Gabriella’s fingers found the crease of his ass, tracing it.
Et oh!
Another, “zone.”

“I know, darling,” she answered, much too acquiescent, he thought, when he could think, with Gabriella’s fingers now spread out over the rumps of his buttocks as she kneaded them. He had always known he was an ass man. He delighted in playing with his wife’s, but he’d never considered his own much, until . . .

A groan rumbled uncontrolled from his throat as one of Gabriella’s oily fingers slid and burrowed through the crevice of his ass. His cock seemed to be connected to the sensation and it pounded strongly. Incredibly, his ass itched to rise upward, and he fought the urge to crawl up on his knees, while his mind vicariously wondered just how far his lovely wife might go in this direction. Whether it was balking on his part or actually hidden aroused thoughts over the matter, he could not digest at the moment.

“We were cheated of twenty-five years, Drummond. Years we missed the pleasure of each other, and now it nearly makes me weep or crumble to even think of being away from you for any length of time.”

Damnation, the woman was merciless, ruthless! “Ah,” he groaned as his ass lifted and Gabriella’s small finger circled his anus. Another, “
zone
” of incomparable proportions. She leaned forward over his back again with her breasts rolling, as her heated breath touched his ear.

“I want to, Drummond. A little prod, but I will not if you do not find it arousing.”

Good Christ!
Drummond jerked his head more to the side, getting part of Gabriella’s mouth in a heated kiss. She must have taken this as a yes, because he could feel somewhere inside him the feeling that he knew meant that she had . . .

“Ah,
” His cock nearly ejaculated.

“Oh, darling!” Gabriella mewled as she scooted back more, freeing his legs and ass. Then, while his thighs spread open wider, her finger stroked shallowly, while her other oily hand began to frolic with his balls.

Heaven help him, he came up onto his knees with his engorged cock burning it was so hard, as he literally begged like a fool. “Oh Christ, Orchid,
stroke
my cock.”

“Oh yes!” she exclaimed passionately. “This is just as I envisioned it!”

His wife envisioned wicked and naughty things that pushed him to an edge he’d never been on before. While her finger began rhythmically stroking in his ass, her tongue suddenly lapped against his balls from behind, and her other hand squeezed around his cock . . . pumping it.

“Fuck!” he charged, losing his control, as his wife milked a thrashing ejaculation from him, while finger fucking his ass.

Fertile imagination, his ass, Drummond thought. His wife was kinky in the best and most lavish sense of the word, and his cock spewed seed, four times, until his knees nearly collapsed, and his chest heaved in great billows. He twisted his neck, shook his head, tried to catch his breath as Gabriella lifted her finger from his ass, but lovingly kept licking his ball sacs. He was on his hands and knees, with his legs spread, and he considered tentatively that it was not such a bad position, if all done properly.

“What was the razor for?” His breath still heaved.

“Mm mm,” Gabriella’s warm tongue lifted from his balls. “I was going to shave your balls, but I have decided that I really love them hairy instead.”

Drummond’s flaccid cock twitched. Impossible! “You are
not
going to go along with the Archangels!” he growled.

“I know,” she answered sweetly, too sweetly by far and he knew his wife’s campaign had just begun!

He was in for it...

Chapter Four

As she walked, Kit squinted again at the address on the letter in her hand. Paris addresses were hard for her American mind to make out, and Clay’s scribbled writing did not help. Thank the Lord, she had been able to lose her husband at the dock. She’d made her way into Paris, arriving last night and had managed to find a hotel that was respectable enough for her to stay in. Not that she’d gotten much sleep. She found she was much too keyed up at being so close to discovering where her brother was. She’d even thought to use a false surname at the hotel, just in case Nick was more industrious than she thought he was.

But he was behind her now and she was determined to leave the embarrassment of her monumentally bad choice in marriage behind her. She had much more important matters to attend to. It had taken a lot of willpower not to go out searching for Clay last night, feeling that all her worries could easily be set aside if he was still at his Paris apartment, just being stubborn in the end, and refusing to write to her these last six months. Hearing about their father’s illness might have made Clay retreat into himself, or he could be sitting in his flat drinking French wine, brooding, and playing his piano. His one true love in life was music.

Nevertheless, while she may have been confident enough to gallop a horse on the road to Paris on her own, she had enough commonsense to not try to wander alone in Paris at night. Paris was the largest city she’d ever been in besides New York City. The sprawl of Paris awed her, when her normal bases of reference were vast and wide-open spaces.

Kit stopped at what looked to be the address, a well-laid brick building, in what appeared to be a nice section of Paris. Clay was not without his resources. While his passion might be music, he had taken his knowledge of raising cattle and turned it into profit. From his letters, Kit understood that Clay had used his personal relationship with many cattle-ranchers in America to ship beef cattle to France, and the price was high here for the American bred delicacy.

Kit knew there would be several larger apartments in the building. It did not surprise her when she walked through the gate and stepped into a well-kept patio garden. On the far side was the front door with a large iron pull-bell placed out front. Just as her gloved hand reached upward to pull the bell, the front door pushed open toward her, and she quickly stepped back, hearing the burr of a baritone voice saying, “Aye, Mademoiselle lass, ye keep my card and think on it. I just want to look, and I’d take nothing. Maybe help, when it’s all said and done.”

Mademoiselle lass,
Kit thought, what queer turn of phrasing, while her mind registered and placed the Scottish accent. The accent seemed so out of place to her mind set of Paris. Then suddenly, a large man passed her on the front steps. Kit barely saw the man as he tipped his head in a polite gesture, then he was past her. Had she turned around to watch him leave, she might have seen him pause to look back at her. Instead, she was left looking at a middle-aged woman standing in the entryway.