Madelynne Ellis - Her Husband’s Lover

Lyle’s hands settled upon his bottom, the touch so light it raised hairs all over his body. The sensation bordered on ticklish and made him realise just how few really good times he’d had playing the bottom role. No man had ever really touched him like this. Past encounters had been swift and frantic – seedy; something done in the dark, without an exchange of names or meaningful emotions. This was broad daylight, out-of-doors and luxuriously tentative.

Lyle touched him as though he meant to imprint a memory of himself upon the skin. When his thumb brushed the sensitive whorl of Darleston’s anus, he nearly shot up off the bark, it set so many nerves alight.

Dear God – that was only the trace of one finger.

Conflicting messages crowded his pleasure centres. Things became even more muddled, even rapturous, when Lyle bent and set his mouth to work where his fingers had strayed.

Darleston’s eyes drooped closed. He’d definitely never been kissed so intimately before. Within moments his blood ran so hot he swore brandy fumes had replaced his blood.

‘You really want this, don’t you?’ A whisper of hot breath assailed his ear. The tip of Lyle’s very cheeky tongue wriggled into another sensitive place. ‘Tell me how much you want it, Robert. Tell me what you’re feeling right now. Having regrets? Any final wishes?’

‘Let me feel you.’

‘Like this?’ Lyle’s form moulded itself to the curve of Darleston’s back. Loins pressed fast to willing flesh. Why was it that the sensation of a cock poised within the channel of his arse was in some ways more enthralling than the act to which it led? ‘Think you’re relaxed enough yet? Think I’ll slide in without a hint of resistance?’

He wasn’t sure about no resistance, but teasingly close wasn’t anywhere near close enough.

His senses screamed and his balls ran with an itch so crazy he wanted nothing more than to jerk himself to fulfilment then and there. Instead, he pushed back against Lyle’s cock.

The rasp of Lyle’s breath whooshed past his ear. ‘Easy, Robert.’

‘Easy yourself.’ He pushed back again. A shot of joy streaked from his anus to his chest as the tip of Lyle’s cock eased inside. A groan started deep in his chest and gained vehemence as it left his throat. ‘More. Do it and I’ll tell you what I have planned for Emma.’

‘What makes you think I want to know?’ Lyle wriggled his hips a little, but staved off Darleston’s attempt to take him all the way inside.

‘Because I know you. Give me a chance, Lyle, and I swear we’ll have her together. Have you ever had a woman as you’re taking me now?’

Lyle grunted – but not in affirmation.

‘Imagine it. Then imagine my cock inside her cunt so that you can feel me as though our cocks are caressing one another as we both possess her. All three of us sharing that perfect moment of bliss …’

A pinnacle he wasn’t so very far from now. He arched his back against Lyle again. This time his lover pushed forward at the same time so that their bodies met and Lyle slid deep.

‘Oh, God!’

The ache, was it always this good?

Too good.

Incredibly raw.

The border between ecstasy and pain had never been so fine.

‘I did warn you to go easy. Relax. Don’t tense up.’ Lyle pulled out a little, then slid back home. ‘There now. Show some bottom. Let’s just get you used to it, shall we?’

‘Fuck!’ Darleston swore. Drawn-out wasn’t what he needed right now. ‘Harder, Lyle.’ His words came out in a rush.

‘Like this?’ Lyle wrapped his arms tight around Darleston’s chest and tugged him into a kneeling position. Chest locked to his back, they swayed together, scaling the path of pleasure.

Lyle’s fist closed fast around Darleston’s cock and began to jerk him to the rhythm of their hips. ‘Almost,’ he cried. ‘I want you with me. It bothers me when the man I’m fucking can’t stay hard. Not that you’re having that problem.’

‘Keep stroking me like that and you’ll know just exactly how into this I am.’

‘Are you going to come while my cock’s in your arse?’

‘If you insist on stroking me like that, I don’t think I’m going to have much choice.’

Despite the warning, Lyle persisted in swirling his thumb around the head of Darleston’s cock.

‘Holy God!’

‘That good, eh?’

Darleston fell forward onto his palms. Sweat beaded his skin. His balls drew up tight as he soared towards orgasm. ‘Your goddamned wife is watching us.’

‘Emma, aren’t you going to dress?’

Emma glanced up from the sampler that lay upon her lap. The embroidery needle she’d held lay dangling over her knee by a thread. Amelia stood at the drawing-room door, her hands pressed together before her as if in prayer, a pose that was probably intended to mask the ridiculously low and inappropriate neckline of her dress. Only a tiny scrap of lace maintained her modesty. A piece would have to be sewn into it before she was allowed to wear it in public.

‘The dinner gong went five minutes ago, yet you’re still here,’ the minx said, before Emma had a chance to scold. ‘Oh, heavens, Emma! Are you so determined to wreck my chances of finding a husband? Isn’t that the frock you went out in this morning? There are mud stains all around the hem. You can’t wear that to dine.’

Dinner. Hours had passed. Yet she hadn’t seen or heard anyone come in. After Darleston had … after he’d touched her, her heart had raced so fast she thought it would jump right out of her chest. All of her breath had been stolen. She’d had to get away from him as fast as possible, but she hadn’t run very far. The mire of brambles made it difficult and her legs wouldn’t carry her. Her feet kept slipping. One briar whipped back upon her and left her arm beaded with blood. She cried out but he hadn’t heard.

Perhaps it was best that he hadn’t heard. He’d been going to kiss her. Hell knows what he’d have done if he’d seen her hurt.

No man had ever kissed her upon the lips. Darleston had looked at her and seen into her soul. He’d read the desire there, had been about to return it. If he hadn’t raised his hand first, he might even have captured her. Her heart sped a little at the thought. A knot of tension built in her womb. How wonderful that he recognised her desire, but he had to understand that she wasn’t like the society women he knew. She couldn’t be with him. She couldn’t love him in that way. Any passion would remain unrequited. Regardless of the desire she felt, she would never act upon it.

And yet she’d still about-turned and stumbled back to where she’d left him. There’d been no sense in her head, just as none resided there now. The sound of Lyle’s voice had spurred her forward. She’d known why he was there even before she spied the men together. She’d given Lyle permission. She had only herself to blame. But seeing them together like that … The details of what Lyle practised had never before troubled her thoughts.

Now they were her only thoughts.

‘Emma?’ Amelia’s shrill cry smashed the recollection apart. ‘Are you not well? You look ill. See, you’ve gone crimson and your skin is all blotched.’

Emma turned her head, but she could not see herself.

‘Please don’t be sick.’ Amelia wrung her hands. ‘Father won’t hear of me being amongst this company without you around as chaperone. He’ll send me to Aunt Maude’s.’

Shakily, Emma waved away the concern. ‘I’m fine. Just a little faint. Too much fresh air and not enough to eat. I’ll be right again in a moment.’ She staggered past Amelia and into the hallway.

‘Should I come up with you and help you dress?’ Her sibling shadowed her flight into the hall so closely that her presence added to Emma’s nervousness. Amelia craved affection. Like a lapdog she was always underfoot. She saw any sign of weakness as the perfect opportunity to snuggle up close. It wasn’t that Emma didn’t want to return her sister’s love, only that she couldn’t bear to expose herself in such a way again.