Victor's Vow [Lords of Hawksfell Manor 6] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) (6 page)

“Cabot,” he said softly, kissing his fevered cheek. “That was remarkable.”

Cabot nodded, licking his lips as his breathing slowed. “You know how to ride, my lord.”

Victor withdrew from Cabot and tucked his sated cock back into his trousers. “Victor, Cabot. You agreed.”

Cabot withdrew a handkerchief and wiped the table and then himself before turning to face Victor. “In this room, I’ll call you Victor.”

Relief washed over him. “I don’t want to lose this connection, Cabot.”

Cabot dressed quickly, then faced him. “What are you saying?”

Victor brushed a hand through his hair and shrugged. “I want to have you again.”

Cabot smiled, all smooth charm, and Victor felt the impact of the man’s attraction. “I’m pleased.” His expression sobered and Victor once more saw the man behind the charm. “But what are you going to do about her?”

Victor thought about Violet and knew his need for her was still burning inside of him. He’d surrendered and taken Cabot but he still wanted Violet.

Victor let out a sigh. “I have no idea.”

Cabot put a hand on his bare shoulder. “You want her.”

Victor nodded.

“And you want me?” Cabot asked.

Victor met his blue eyes so like Violet’s. “Yes.”

Cabot grinned now. “Then you shall have us both.”

Amazingly, Victor felt a laugh bubble up inside him. “How?”

“You’re not the only one who wants two here, Victor.”

Victor’s mouth dropped open. “She wants you, too?”

“Of course.”

Victor did laugh then. And he felt lighter than he ever had before.

* * * *

Violet walked about the frozen grounds of Hawksfell Manor, her nerves in a tangle. Last night had been astonishing on several levels. When the Hawks all spoke of the coming holiday with such warm anticipation, she’d so wanted to fit in and celebrate with them. The long year caring for Victor’s mother hadn’t left time or energy for celebrating and Victor’s prickly demeanor made any notion of bringing up the subject to him ridiculous. She’d seen the longing in his eyes, however. It nearly broke her heart that he kept himself as removed from these people as much as he always had from her.

Turning up the collar of her coat, she made her way around toward the back of the manor house. Hawksfell was enormous, but she’d spotted an outbuilding. She assumed it was a garage or carriage house, and considered hiding out in it until dinnertime arrived again. Breakfast had been quiet, as the earl and his family had gone off to the village. At least she wouldn’t have to make conversation with the absurdly happy Lady Hawksfell and her undeniably pleasant cousin. If the earl was seeing to business he’d been considerate enough to take them along with him today.

Victor hadn’t been present but neither had Cabot the footman, thank goodness. Oh, the way she’d shamed herself with him!

He had been so kind to her, though. And he was so very attractive. His kisses were sweet and hot, and on this cold morning she believed they might be just the thing to warm her.

Shivering from the combination of the chill of the air and the heat of her thoughts, she turned back toward the house. A maid took her coat when she entered. Violet rubbed her bare hands together as she headed toward the library. She’d taken note of it this morning as she’d passed toward the breakfast room, and it was as good a place to be alone as any other she could find. She was an expert on being alone, of course.

She took a book from one of the shelves without giving it much thought and settled in a chair beside the well-tended fire. She was soon warm and a little drowsy, holding the closed book in her lap as she stared out the nearest window at the white winter landscape beyond.

What would happen after the holiday? After she and Victor returned to Ralston House? There was truly no place for her there, despite his familial kindness toward her. She had no one else to turn to. She would end up an old maid, haunting Ralston after Victor inevitably wed and brought his wife home. A stab of pain shot through her heart at the mere thought of him giving another what she longed for from him. Passion, yes. But she wanted him to take the freedom to touch her when he wished to. To take the pleasure she offered as more than a release of his Hawk lusts. To love her and no other woman!

“It can never be,” she whispered, her throat tight.

“And what is that, miss?” a man’s voice inquired from the doorway.

She blinked at Cabot, leaning against the jamb and looking for all the world like a man of leisure despite his impeccable livery. “Cabot.”

He smiled in that way that sent shivers over her body and entered the room. To her surprise he closed the door behind him with a click and faced her again. “Ah, Violet.”

She nearly melted at his smooth utterance of her name. She licked her lips, longing for another taste of his kisses. Still, propriety must be observed.

“What are you about, Cabot?”

He stepped closer and she caught his scent. “I could ask you the same.”

She mirrored his smile. “Impertinent this afternoon, I see. You have a saucy tongue.”

He shrugged. “I seem to recall you enjoyed my tongue just last evening.”

Her cheeks went as hot as the fire behind the grate. She couldn’t deny his words. She’d tasted her fill and loved what he’d done to her during that brief madness in her guest room.

“I did,” she admitted on a whisper. “Very much.”

His blue eyes sparkled with intent as he bent over her. She was forced to crane her neck to meet his gaze. He was nearly as tall as Victor, after all.

“Do you wish to know more of what my saucy tongue can do?”

Her mouth dropped open even as it began to water. Her nipples pinched tight in her corset and she shuddered. “W–what, precisely, can it do?”

He brought his mouth to her ear and gave her earlobe a lick. “It can taste you all over.” He nibbled on the cord of her neck and laughed softly. “It can delve into your pussy and see if it’s as sweet as your lips.”

Her drawers grew wet as she imagined such a thing. “Never say you wish to lick me…there.”

He nodded, then met her eyes with his. “I could eat you for hours, Violet.” He shivered and blew out a breath. “The mere thought of it makes me hard.”

She glanced down at the front of his trousers. She could make out the shape and length of his manhood through the fine fabric and realized he must be as affected as Victor was, curse or no. The night before they’d left Ralston House she’d felt Victor’s desire and he’d touched hers. But what Cabot was suggesting couldn’t be possible.

“Victor touched me,” she rushed out, her eyes drifting closed with embarrassment and remembrance. “With only his hand.”

Cabot smiled again. “And you came, didn’t you?”

“Came?” She pondered the word, then realized what it meant. That mind-shattering pleasure Victor had given her with his long, strong fingers. That climax that had shocked and thrilled her to her toes. “Oh. Y–yes.”

“I can make you come with my mouth, Violet.”

She gripped the arms of her chair, her eyes opening wide. “You can?”

He nodded, then straightened again. “But believe me, the library isn’t the place.”

She glanced past his handsome face and realized she’d forgotten where they were. Her body was aching, her pulse pounding, just from his words. She’d never be able to hold back her screams should he touch her. Oh, how she wanted him to touch her!

“Where?” she asked breathlessly. “Cabot, where can you make me…come?”

He just grinned and took her hand in his.

Violet followed behind Cabot as he wound his way through the great house. He seemed to know every vacant hallway and unoccupied chamber on the way toward the stairs, for they never encountered any other staff. At the top of the stairs he turned away from the family bedrooms.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

He glanced back over his shoulder, his full lips agape. “Taking you? God, I wish I could take you.”

She realized what she’d said and bit her lip. He groaned softly and quickly kissed her.

“We’re bound for the bachelor’s wing,” he said.

“The bachelor’s wing?” That was where Victor was ensconced, and no one else at present to her knowledge. Cabot had picked the perfect trysting spot for certain.

He stopped before a closed door and faced her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You’re certain?”

Was she certain she was going to tryst with this man? This warm, caring man who made her feel things only Victor had before? But Victor was far and gone from her forever. That was certain. And Cabot stood before her with an expression of concern on his handsome face. His fair brows were furrowed and, even though his cheeks were ruddy with his own desires, she was sure that if she cried off he would honor her wishes. That realization was enough to make her decision.

Before she could do more than nod, he opened the door and ushered her inside. It was a beautifully decorated room, done in shades of blue. That was all she noticed at the moment, for Cabot took off his jacket and ran his hands over her. He was beautifully built. She could see that through his fine linen shirt. As he drew her close she could feel the muscles in his chest and arms working.

“You are such a delectable bundle, Violet.” He unbuttoned her dress and stared down at her corset. “My, my.”

Her breasts were all but spilling over the top of it and she ached for him to put his saucy tongue on her flesh. “Cabot, please.”

He spun her around and quickly worked the hooks until the corset fell to the floor around her ankles. She covered her breasts with her hands but when he gently tugged them away along with the thin straps of her chemise. She surprised herself by letting him look his fill.

“As pretty as a flower.” He cupped one breast and dragged his thumb over its aching nipple. “I wager your pussy will be as pretty.”

Her knees were weak as he drew her closer. Closing his mouth over the nipple, he began to toy with her other breast. His arm was strong around her as he backed her toward the bed. She felt it at her backside and let herself sink down. His mouth never ceased its magic, his tongue teasing and his teeth nibbling. Sparks of pleasure coursed through her, making her ache for more.

“Taste me everywhere, Cabot,” she sighed.

He lifted his head and winked at her. “Who has the saucy tongue now?”

She giggled and leaned back on her elbows. “Me?”

“You.”

He lifted the hem of her chemise to her waist and spread her legs wide. The room was warm and her body hotter still, yet she shivered as he removed her drawers. His eyes ran over her bared flesh and she felt herself swell.

“Oh, you have a very pretty pussy,” he said, his voice thick.

Then he kissed her there. He made a sound of delight as he licked her. Collapsing beneath him, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to his expertise.

“You’re very good at this, Cabot.”

He made a sound, then inserted a finger into her. “I’ve never tasted such a delectable pussy, Violet. You’re sweeter than I’d imagined.”

She couldn’t hold a thought as his finger moved inside of her. His tongue circled that very spot Victor had touched before and she felt a lifting of her body as she began an ascent toward climax again. “Make me come!” she cried. “Oh, Cabot!”

He licked and sucked as he worked her, and stars lit behind her eyelids. Spreading herself wider, she surrendered and cried out as her orgasm took her.

Cabot came up and kissed her as she caught her breath. A lock of his golden hair lay over his forehead and his blue eyes were dark. “Have I pleased you?”

She stared at him, her body weak and her heartbeat erratic. He’d pleased her as promised and it surpassed her fevered imaginings. Not since that night with Victor had she felt such pleasure. The memory stabbed at her and she sucked in a breath. Inexplicably, her eyes stung with tears and she squeezed them shut. “Yes,” she sobbed.

Cabot was silent above her.

“You don’t
sound
pleased,” another man’s voice intoned.

She opened her eyes to find Victor standing over the bed. Her legs were still wide open and Cabot was stretched over her nearly naked body. A flush of embarrassment spread over her body. “Victor!”

He shrugged out of his jacket as Cabot had done, tossing it toward the chair set near the window.

“You’ll wrinkle it,” Cabot intoned, leaning up on his elbows.

Victor lifted a shoulder. “My valet shall attend to it.”

Cabot laughed and rolled off of her gracefully to stand on the other side of the bed. Violet blinked rapidly. This was all so odd, the two of them here and Victor almost teasing Cabot.

“Am I dreaming?” she murmured.

Victor shook his head. He still wore his usual dark expression but there was something else there in his face. That hunger she’d seen before.

“Were you actually teasing Cabot just then?” she asked.

“Turnabout is fair play, Violet,” he said, his voice smooth. “He was just, um, teasing you.”

His dark gaze fell on her pussy and she felt a rekindling of the passion Cabot had raised. Oh, she was shameless!

She brought her thighs together and sat up on the bed. Her wrinkled chemise made a poor covering but she gathered it in front of her breasts just the same. “I don’t know what to say.”

He continued to remove his clothes. “I’m tired of my vow, Violet. I’m tired of being alone when I want you so much.”

The fervency of his words was unexpected. “You want me?”

His gaze was intent. “Of course.”

“But I’ve just let Cabot…”

To her amazement, Victor nodded. “I saw what you just let Cabot do.” His eyes raked over her. “I’ve pictured your pretty pussy many times but I admit it surpasses my imaginings. I long for a taste of you as well.”

“Now I know I’m dreaming.” She managed to rise and stood at the foot of the bed. Victor stripped off his shirt and she was momentarily stunned speechless by the sight of his magnificent chest. It was a bit broader than Cabot’s, swirled with dark hairs and ridged in all the right places. She swallowed. “What are you about, Victor?”