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Authors: Samantha Kane

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She let go of Brett’s nipple, a hand automatically going to her hair to stop them from freeing it. Suddenly both of Brett’s hands thrust into her hair, fisting great clumps of it, and he pulled her mouth back to his chest. “More,” he rumbled, massaging her scalp. Anne leaned into him, her bottom rising as she latched onto his delicious nipple.

Freddy gasped behind her and thrust and Anne’s head moved, pulling her off Brett’s nipple. He pushed her back onto it. She was awash in sensation. The taste of Brett, salty with sweat, the hair on his chest and stomach rubbing her breasts and lips, Freddy’s cock gently swirling inside her as he circled his hips again. And through it all Brett’s hands fisted so tightly in her hair he was pulling it, his lust and desperation like a spicy flavor on her tongue.

Brett let go and pushed her back, up into Freddy’s arms. Their gazes caught for one electrifying moment, and then Freddy pulled her up and Brett grabbed his cock, aligning it with Anne’s sex. Anne watched as he rubbed the fat head of his thick cock through her folds, tapping it against her clitoris. She moaned at the resulting throb of pleasure that shot through her. His cock was twice as thick as Freddy’s, but shorter. She wanted it again, wanted it filling her as it had two times before. She reached down and wrapped her hand around it above Brett’s and his hips thrust up, forcing his cock through their fists. He moaned and his head fell back against the bed.

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“I’m so greedy,” Anne whispered, rubbing that dark, plump head against her soaking mound. “I want both of these cocks inside me. Fuck me, Brett, fuck me with Freddy. Please.”

“Christ,” Freddy moaned behind her, his hands gripping her hips. “Take her. For God’s sake, fill her, Brett.”

Anne placed his cock at her entrance and pressed down. Oh God, it was tight. She burned with his penetration, stretching around that cock while Freddy’s cock in her bottom took on mammoth proportions.

“Stop, stop, stop,” she cried, panting. Brett froze, but Freddy’s hands on her hips took over, forcing her down further. Anne shook her head over and over, but she couldn’t speak, could only moan as the reality of two cocks filling her, front and back, took over all her senses. She fell forward, her hands supporting her weight on Brett’s shoulders. He could hold her. She knew he could hold her. His hands grasped her sides, his thumbs right under her breasts and she relaxed. That’s when Freddy lowered the two of them the rest of the way down, seating Brett’s thick cock all the way inside her.

Anne screamed at the pain and the pleasure of it. She felt full to bursting, but it was Freddy and Brett and she never wanted it to end, never wanted them to leave her. She knew she was babbling nonsense but couldn’t seem to stop. She’d lost control. Her walls were pulsing around those cocks, pulling them, hugging them. She wanted to move, wanted to fuck them deep and hard, wanted to press her clitoris against Brett with each thrust and come over and over.

Brett slid his hands up her torso and pinched her nipples hard enough to hurt. The pain was exquisite, igniting her skin, her sex. She placed her hands over his and pressed them to her. “Don’t stop,” she cried. “It hurts. Oh God, don’t stop.”

And then Freddy began to move again.

Freddy couldn’t hold back any longer. God, Anne was wild for it, for them. She loved this, loved them both fucking her. He’d known she would. Anne was made for sex, made to love them both.

Freddy had only done this twice before, and it had never been like this. The whores he’d fucked with virtual strangers had moaned on cue, and read their lines, and while it had been exciting in a forbidden way, and pleasurable, it hadn’t been like this. It hadn’t been wild and uncontrollable and so erotic and sensual and wonderful that it was all he could do not to fuck Anne without remorse until he came deep inside her.

And Brett, Christ, Brett. His cock was so damn big it was smothering Freddy’s in Anne’s slim body. Freddy could feel each pulse of Brett’s heartbeat as it throbbed in his cock. Could Brett feel him like that? He wasn’t as large, but he was longer. Freddy could plainly feel where Brett ended. Experimentally he pulled back slowly. Anne’s passage was so tight that when the head of his cock encountered the head of Brett’s the resulting crush felt so damn good that Freddy couldn’t catch his breath. He heard a weak cry and realized it was his.

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“Freddy, damn it, Freddy,” Brett cried out as the heads of their cocks rubbed along one another. Brett started to move as well.

“No,” Freddy told him harshly. “Wait.” He made it to the end of Anne’s passage, his cock head just inside her rim. He was panting hard, and Anne was crying out, and Brett was cursing, and Freddy had never enjoyed anything as much as this. “Now,” he ordered roughly. “Pull out as I push in.”

Brett did as ordered and Freddy saw stars. “Brett,” he whispered. He couldn’t help it.

“Yes,” Brett hissed. The lunge and pull of their cocks piled sensation on top of sensation inside Anne’s incredibly hot, snug walls.

Anne was trying to move, and it was all Freddy could do to stop her. “No, darling, please. Let us move, Anne. If you move, it’s too much.”

Anne relaxed in his hold, her inner muscles relaxing as well, so that it was slightly easier to fuck in and out. Soon he and Brett had a rhythm going that kept time with the pounding of Freddy’s heart. In and out, in and out, and Anne whimpered and cried out and said the most outrageous, lovely things, begging them to never leave her, and Freddy wanted to cry with how perfect it all was. He slid his hands from Anne’s hips, up over her ribs and then he covered Brett’s hands at her breasts. At the touch of his hands, Brett thrust harder into Anne, and their pace increased.

The sounds of fucking filled the air, the wet slide, the groans and the grunts and slap of flesh on flesh, and Freddy had never heard such beautiful music. He slid his hands down to Brett’s wrists, the contours of his bones and muscles fascinating under the heat of his skin and the softness of his hair. Brett’s arms trembled and Freddy let his hands glide further, over his bulging forearms, and then back down. Over and over Freddy repeated the caress as he rode Anne, and with each pass Brett fucked Anne harder and faster, and Freddy kept pace with him.

Between them Anne shook with her arousal, sweat running down her face, trickling between her breasts. Freddy wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her back into his chest, rubbing his nipples across her damp, hot skin. “You feel so good, Anne, so good,” he panted.

“I’ve got to move,” Anne begged, “please. I need more.”

Brett slid his hand from her breast down over stomach and his thumb disappeared into her pubic hair. The next moment Anne cried out and stiffened in his arms. “Yes,”

she sobbed.

“Is that what you needed, darling?” Brett whispered darkly. “Did you need

someone to rub this hard little bud? I want you to come, Anne, soon. Because I can’t wait. I’m going to fill you, sweetheart, I’m going to come in this sweet, hot cunt.”

His words made Freddy wild. He’d never known Brett to be so coarse. His rough language made their encounter darker, more erotic, more thrilling.

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Anne began to shake violently, and she thrust down on Brett’s hand, Brett’s cock, Freddy’s cock. Freddy didn’t think she cared anymore, as long as they filled her and fucked her and gave her the climax she so desperately needed.

When she came, she came screaming. She ground down on everything filling her, and her walls convulsed so hard it was shocking at first. Then it pulled Freddy’s own climax from his balls to his cock with a sudden tingling rush. He could hear Anne sobbing, he could feel Brett thrust hard and deep inside her, and he did the same just as the first pulse of his orgasm filled her with his release. For each contraction of her walls, Freddy had a corresponding jerk in his cock that sent jet after jet of semen inside her, filling her, surrounding Freddy. Anne cried out again, and then Freddy felt it. He felt Brett coming.

Brett grabbed Anne’s hips and tried to hold her still, but she was a wildcat on his cock. His balls ached as a burning sensation tore through them and traveled up his cock and then sheer, unadulterated pleasure made him cry out wordlessly, a high-pitched trembling cry and the heat and force of his ejaculations inside Anne drove all thought from his head. He arched his back, thrust into her, giving it all to her, and he felt the pulse of Freddy’s cock, felt the heat of Freddy’s semen inside her as Freddy released.

For a moment Brett felt as if he were falling, lightheaded and disoriented, then sensation came slamming back to him and his back bowed as the pleasure became so intense it was almost pain.

When it was over Anne collapsed on his chest, and Brett realized she was crying.

Her tears scalded his chest, her sobs shaking him and the bed.

“Anne, Anne,” he said, panicked. He pulled out of her, still hard, and vaguely saw Freddy do the same. He cupped her cheek and forced her head up as he rolled to his side, dumping Anne on the cover beside him. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you? Christ, what’s wrong?”

Freddy scrambled up and leaned over Anne, gently pulling her tangled hair away from her face. “Anne, God, what’s wrong? Tell us. I’m sorry, Anne, I’m sorry.”

Anne shook her head violently. She swallowed and said brokenly, “Nothing.

Nothing is wrong. Everything is so perfect.”

Brett’s heart slowed its galloping beat and he fell back against the bed. “Christ, you scared me. I thought,” he shook his head, “I thought I’d hurt you.” He put a shaking hand to his head, ran it through his sweat-soaked hair. “I thought that while I’d been coming inside you, dying with the pleasure of it, you’d been hurting and crying and I hadn’t noticed. I can’t bear to hurt you, Anne.”

He couldn’t believe he’d revealed that. But his brain was not functioning yet. How could it, so soon after being inside Anne?

“Oh Brett,” Anne sighed with a hiccup, and she draped her arm around his neck and kissed his shoulder.

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Freddy lay down weakly next to Anne. “It was perfect. I can die a happy man now, my dear.”

In Brett’s arms Anne went stiff. She spun around to face Freddy and hit him in the arm with all her might. “Don’t say that!” she yelled. “Don’t ever say that!”

Her reaction shocked both men, but Brett understood where Freddy looked

completely mystified. Brett touched her shoulder and rolled over to spoon her from behind. “He didn’t mean it, Anne. He’s not going to die.”

Anne threw herself on Freddy’s chest, hugging him tightly. Freddy looked

absolutely stunned. “Please don’t leave me, Freddy,” Anne said, as weak now as she’d been violent a moment ago. “I couldn’t bear it.”

Freddy wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I’m not going anywhere, Anne,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. He rubbed his cheek against her hair and looked at Brett, regret in his eyes. Brett smiled reassuringly at him, but inside he was a trembling, weak, besotted, broken-hearted fool. No, Freddy wasn’t going anywhere, but it was clear that Brett would soon be leaving.

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Chapter Thirteen

March 27, 1812

My Dearest Anne,

We are on the move again. Have you heard? Ciudad Rodrigo right after the new year. And
now we march farther into Spain. The mail has been unreliable here. We haven’t received a letter
from you in almost two months. All the men ask about you. I know it is the post, but still I can’t
help but worry, and hope that you are all right.

Brett carries your handkerchief everywhere. He doesn’t think I know, but I do. I let him
believe it is his little secret, but I thought you’d like to know how much it means to him, and
what a comfort it is to him. I have mine tucked into your letters. I know that one of your reasons
for giving me embroidered linen was to make me laugh at the thought of you sitting and
stitching, tears of boredom streaming down your face.

I am melancholy, Anne. Will this wretched war never end? Napoleon is extraordinarily
thoughtless for making us march around here shooting at his army. They actually have the gall
to shoot back, and one of these days my luck may run out. Brett can only save me so many times,
after all. That was a joke, Anne.

I have told Brett that he is coming home with me. He doesn’t believe me. But tell Jerome to
prepare a room and kill the fatted calf. We shall rout these French bastards soon and we will both
be home by summer.

Your Devoted, Tired Servant,

Bertie

* * * * *

Freddy came to an abrupt halt at the top of the stairs on his way down to the entry hall. He could hear Brett and Anne laughing behind him. They’d lingered over breakfast in his drawing room and were now going to try to spirit Anne home in the carriage with no one the wiser. Clearly that plan would have to be altered.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” his mother said coolly from the bottom of the wide staircase. She was removing her gloves, and he saw footmen carrying in luggage. Off to the side stood an older man and a young woman unabashedly staring at him.

“Good morning, Madame,” Freddy said without skipping a beat. He took a casual step backward, hoping to intercept Brett and Anne before they stumbled into an awkward scene.

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“We have arrived a few days early,” the duchess continued, handing her gloves to Reeves, who met Freddy’s eyes with regret. The anger that had been rising at what he’d assumed was Reeves’ treachery cooled quickly. Reeves hadn’t known she was coming either. How his mother loved her little surprises. “I’m sure we shall not inconvenience you, Your Grace. Lady Vanessa Carlton-Smythe was anxious to make your

acquaintance.”

Oh Lord, Freddy thought, not another one. He smiled politely. “Was she? How delightful, I’m sure.”

BOOK: Retreat From Love
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