Simply Sinful (25 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

BOOK: Simply Sinful
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He returned to the bed. James sat cross-legged as he absently massaged his cock. Abigail lay on her back, her legs spread wide, skin flushed a rosy pink. Her sex glistened with cream. Peter wanted to rub his face against her, lick her juices until she was dry and then fill her with his cum, just as he had filled James.

His shaft thickened so fast it almost hurt. He crawled across the huge bed to Abigail and simply stared down at her. He’d once imagined James would be enough for him but he hadn’t reckoned on Abigail’s intense sexuality and appeal. Her quick curiosity and acceptance of her sensual nature seemed designed to complement him and James, to add an intriguing third to their pair, to form not a triangle but a circle of pleasure.

Abigail touched him. “Peter, are you all right?”

He smiled at them both. “Absolutely. I’ll take the bottom position, James then all you have to do is climb on top and slide your cock in alongside mine.”

He lay down on the bed and beckoned to Abigail. “Ride my cock. Come sit on me.”

She moved toward him on hands and knees, her slight breasts quivering. He gripped her around the waist, made her face away from him and slid her slowly down over his cock. She gasped as he carefully drew her back to lie flat against him.

James moved between their outstretched legs, one hand wrapped around the base of his shaft.

“This is like fucking both of you.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Aye, but I wasn’t really sure if it would work.”

“But you are now?”

“Sure enough to want to keep doing this until Abby gets her baby, yes.”

Abigail nudged him. “James, will you just get on with it?”

Peter smiled at Abigail’s impatient intervention and stroked her breasts, offering her hard nipples up to James’s mouth. James took the proffered invitation eagerly, latched on and sucked hard while Abigail writhed and moved against Peter.

He fingered her clit, moved his hand lower to where his shaft entered her and slid his fingers inside.

“Here James, fuck her here, right on top of my rod.”

Reaching forward, he tugged at the crown of James’s cock, rubbed it against his, heard James gasp.

“Right here, plenty of room for us both.”

James’s cock butted against his hand, blindly seeking the slick channel. Peter used his fingers to guide the thick head inside, groaned as Abigail’s passage engulfed them both. James pushed deeper, igniting a ripple of intense sensation along the line of Peter’s shaft, squeezing him tight up against Abigail’s clenching sex.

James loomed over them, his face contorted with exquisite agony.

“God, I’ve never felt this way before. I can feel every inch of your cock, Peter, and Abby, God, Abby you are so tight I want to thrust into you so hard but I’m not even sure if I can move.”

Peter angled his hips upward a scant inch and both the Beechams groaned. A memory of Valentin and Sara similarly entwined with him surfaced. Peter quickly banished it.

“We’ll move, don’t worry.” He curved his hand round James’s muscular buttock. “You’ll need to do most of the work, but I’m sure that won’t bother you.”

Peter pressed down on the small of James’s back and he started to move, grunting with each stroke. Peter simply allowed himself to experience one of his favorite sexual situations. Two cocks, one beautiful woman to pleasure, enjoyment and extreme joy for all. He stroked James between his buttocks, slipping his fingers inside James’s arse through the wetness of his cum, and urged him on.

Abigail’s breathing shortened as they worked her; trapped as she was between the two men, she could only take what they gave her, endure the solid pounding from both cocks and luxuriate in it. Her pleasure built until she had to come. Her scream was cut short by James’s mouth roughly covering hers, Peter biting her throat as she tightened and tightened like a vise around their straining cocks.

James swore but he didn’t stop thrusting into her. Abby began to whimper with every stroke, her body no longer her own, the two men driving her toward a place where there were only the extremes of pleasure and fulfillment and where she had to trust them not to hurt her.

Another climax built so rapidly, her teeth sank into James’s lip, drawing blood. He bit her back, his teeth rough against her skin, nipped at Peter’s mouth too as he reared back and thrust again.

“Dammit, Abby.”

He hammered into her, his expression almost brutal, his cock a hard thrusting presence she welcomed and feared at the same time. Peter increased his tempo too as she moved between them, blindly seeking something, desperately aware that only the two men working her knew exactly how to give it to her.

“Peter…I’m going to come.” James’s hoarse words sounded much too loud in Abby’s ear.

“We’ll all come.” Even Peter’s normally calm voice sounded ragged as he held Abby’s hips hard, his fingers biting into her flesh.

“I can’t…”

James kissed her hard.

“Yes, you can. I’ll make sure of it.”

She wanted to close her eyes against the intensity of emotion in his face but found it impossible to look away. He rose over her, grabbed her knees widening the angle of his entry and shoved back into her.

He grunted with each driving stroke, his balls slapping against her and Peter, his cock a living, pounding rod that turned her into a quivering mass of lust. Inside her both men’s cocks grew impossibly huge as her body clenched around them.

James’s strokes grew as ragged as his breathing, his cries as loud as Abby’s.

“Come with me.”

He arched his spine, slammed himself home one more time and then fell over Abby in a shuddering shaking heap, his cock pouring out hot seed. Peter came too, triggering Abby’s final climax, which was so intense she wasn’t sure she would survive it.

She lay sandwiched between the two men, covered in sweat, her cream and their cum, supremely at peace for the first time in her life. She pushed at James’s chest until he rolled over onto his side and kissed his chin. She sighed.

“That was very nice. Can we do it again?”

Peter and James groaned in unison.

18

P
eter awoke in a haze of pleasure on the verge of coming into the warm mouth that sucked his cock. James lay close behind him, his shaft buried inside Peter’s arse. It was Abigail’s mouth that covered his cock. He struggled to free his hand and slide his fingers inside her sex.

She shuddered as he stroked her clit, any sound she made muffled by the presence of his shaft in her mouth. James undulated his hips, a slow fucking that made Peter’s pleasure grow, so different from the fast and furious lovemaking of the previous night.

Who would’ve thought James could be so gentle or Abigail so good at fellatio? How could they have wasted all those years of potential lovemaking? James gripped his hips and thrust hard one last time, his cum flooding into Peter. Peter reacted by climaxing himself and felt Abigail swallow his seed down her throat.

When they disengaged, he opened his eyes and smiled at them.

“That is possibly my favorite way to wake up.”

“Possibly?” said James.

“Definitely, then.”

Abigail wiped her mouth. “I only wish men’s seed tasted of something better.”

“Like fine wine or a cup of frothing hot chocolate perhaps?”

Abigail frowned at James. “You can’t tell me you like the taste!”

“It depends whose cum it is.”

She sighed. “I’m not sure I believe you, James.”

“Why not? I like the sensation of swallowing a man’s cum down my throat. I like being used like that.”

“So do I, but it doesn’t make the taste any better.”

Peter hid a grin. Perhaps this was why they’d never discovered the other’s hidden sexual depths. They needed a third to umpire their squabbling and bring them together.

“A man’s seed can taste differently depending on what he eats.”

“Are you serious, Peter?” James sounded skeptical.

Abigail sniffed. “You see? I told you so. Eat nicer things and I’ll be a lot happier.”

“How about I just drink brandy and nothing else? You’d probably prefer the taste of that and you’d be so foxed maybe you’d stop arguing with me.”

“This is why you need me, isn’t it?” Both of the Beechams stared at Peter. “To referee.”

Abigail patted his thigh. “You might have a point. James is very argumentative, isn’t he?”


I
am? Pot and kettle, Abby cat, pot and kettle.”

Peter cleared his throat.

Abigail sighed. “We just need you, Peter.”

“Aye, we do.”

Warmth stirred in Peter’s stomach as he stared at them; their sincerity was obvious. He thought of the day ahead and his smile disappeared.

“I have to go and see Valentin this morning.”

“Why?”

The abrupt question came from James, all good humor wiped from his face. Peter sat up and carefully stretched.

“Because he deserves a full accounting of my visit with Mr. William Howard.”

“I repeat, why?”

“Valentin was the one who came across the information in the first place. I need to convince him to leave it where it should be—in the past. Otherwise he might take it upon himself to keep organizing my life for me.”

James looked unconvinced. Abigail squeezed his hand.

“I suspect that Lord Sokorvsky feels just as bad about the way this turned out as you do.”

Peter eased over to the edge of the bed.

“What makes you say that?”

“I saw his face when you told him what had gone wrong. He didn’t look angry, he looked mortified that he’d brought such a terrible thing down on you.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “You came to that conclusion in the five minutes you saw him?”

She crossed her arms over her breasts, her chin raised. “Yes, I did.”

“Why should you imagine he might feel guilt about me?”

“Oh, Peter, don’t be a fool. He’s your best friend. He knows you better than anyone else alive. Why would he deliberately hurt you?”

He walked away from her. Had to before her logic made him rethink Val’s motives yet again. His friend had always had the ability to tie him in emotional knots. At this particular moment, he didn’t want Abigail’s help untying them either.

“I’ll meet up with you both later, if you wish.”

James nodded. “That would be delightful. And Abby and I will try not to kill each other while you’re away.”

Peter picked up his scattered clothes and sketched a bow. “That too would be delightful.”

He escaped into the dressing room next to the bedchamber and washed quickly. Val had to be faced, but not before Peter had gone home and changed clothes. There was no need to rouse Val’s ire by appearing as if he’d just gotten out of bed. He knew from bitter experience that he needed all his defenses in place before he went anywhere near Valentin Sokorvsky.

He stared at his pale reflection in the mirror. Was Abigail right? Had Val felt more than anger over Peter’s disastrous meeting with his grandfather? He shook his head. Now was not the time to become sentimental about Val and his motives. He’d begun the painful process of detaching himself from his friend’s life and he needed to follow it through.

 

A freezing drizzle chased him along the narrow streets to the shipping office. He stamped his feet on the doormat and shook the rain from his hat. Inside it was warm, the office busy, the scent of ink and coffee permeating the fuggy atmosphere.

Taggart came to greet him, his round face smiling.

“Good morning, Mr. Howard. Are you back? I thought you were taking another week or so.”

“I am, Mr. Taggart. I just wanted to check in with Lord Sokorvsky. Is he here?”

“Not yet, sir. I’m expecting him shortly though. Do you want to wait in his office or will you go to yours? I’m sure Mr. Anthony would be glad to see you too.”

Peter hesitated, hat in hand. Damn, he’d forgotten about Anthony. He allowed Taggart to usher him into his own office and found the younger Sokorvsky snoring behind the desk, booted feet planted firmly on a pile of books.

“Good to see you working hard, Anthony.”

Peter shoved Anthony’s feet off the desk and Anthony awoke with a curse. He sprang up and shook Peter’s hand vigorously.

“I’m glad to see you are back. This business isn’t as easy to run as I thought it would be.”

“Nonsense, I hear you are doing very well. Perhaps I can retire.”

“Please don’t do that. Val would probably kill me. He’s only been tolerant of my mistakes because he knows you’re coming back.” Anthony sat down in his chair, his expression careful. “You are coming back, aren’t you?”

Peter sat opposite him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m not stupid and you and Val are definitely still at odds.”

“Personally, perhaps, but not professionally.”

“You can separate the two? I’ve always thought the bond between you went far deeper than that.”

Peter studied Anthony intently. Was Val’s brother aware of their less-than-orthodox relationship? And if so, who had told him?

“Why do you say that?”

Anthony shrugged. “Because I met Yusef Aliabad and he told me that you and Val were lovers.”

Peter drew in a sharp breath. How could he have forgotten Anthony’s unfortunate entanglement in his and Val’s past two years previously?

“Aliabad lied about a lot of things.”

A muscle flicked in Anthony’s cheek and his boyish charm disappeared, replaced by a starkness that made Peter uneasy. “He bought both your services in the brothel. He fucked you separately and together.”

Unfortunately, in his bid to control Val, Aliabad had fucked Anthony too. Anthony never talked about what had happened to him, and Peter had hoped he’d gotten over it. It appeared he was wrong. He met Anthony’s gaze head on. His appalling treatment at the hands of their enemy demanded Peter at least try to be honest with him.

“That was in the past. Val is married now and I’m…” He paused, unsure how much to reveal. “And I’m involved with somebody else.”

“I’ve been to Madame Helene’s, Peter. I know what I’ve seen.”

For a second, Anthony looked uncannily like his half brother at his most formidable. Peter forced himself to remain calm.

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