We shouldn’t undress completely, Althea. We will have to return you to the ball. And
without a hair out of place.
She hadn’t even thought of that, but of course it was true.
Yannick tossed his tailcoat beside Bastien’s on the end of the stone bench. Almost hidden beneath the tumbling bushes, and polished smooth, the seat appeared designed for trysting.
But with two men?
Althea found herself seated on it, the twins standing before her.
Perfect,
she decided as she set to opening the falls of Yannick’s trousers. As soon as the first button gave, she motioned Bastien to take a step closer. He did with a flourishing bow.
“Straighten, please,” she admonished in a whisper, “How else will I unfasten yours?”
And with Bastien, too, she released only one button. One button at a time, she undid them both, moving back and forth. Heads bowed, arms folded across magnificent chests, they watched her.
She should free Yannick’s cock first—she’d started with his trousers, after all—but after a brief hesitation, she turned to Bastien. Though lust burned in his expression, so did a sweet uncertainty, as though he still wasn’t certain she truly loved him.
His cock had no doubts. Released from his small clothes, it stood proud, reaching for the stars. She couldn’t resist one lick, from the thick base and the soft golden curls to the quivering head. With the tip of her tongue, she traced the column along its back. Already slick, the head tasted tangy and rich, and his fingers slid into her hair as her tongue dallied there.
“Don’t muss her hair,” Yannick teased in a raspy voice.
“That will be bloody impossible,” Bastien groaned.
Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 164
She laughed at that—powerful vampires made weak by desire—by desire for her. She felt a surge of womanly power she was only just beginning to understand.
Filled with courage, she freed Yannick’s prick from his trousers. His breathtaking cock gleamed in the moonlight. A little tear bubbled at the eye. She guessed he expected a long lick too, so she surprised him by sucking him suddenly deep, so deep the head pressed to the back of her throat. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she slid him in and out, keeping tight pressure on the shaft, taking him as far in as she could.
She loved his taste, and the satiny feel of him against her tongue.
Angel, you are enslaving me.
Althea looked up and saw Yannick drop his head back and moan to the sky.
God, you are a
treasure, sweet angel.
Boldly, she released Yannick’s cock and took Bastien’s in her mouth. She fondled Yannick’s ballocks, still snuggled in his linens, while she suckled Bastien’s cock. They both gasped in surprise. Back and forth she went, bestowing a lick, a suck, and a quick fondle to each man’s cock in turn. Their moans grew into a sensual chorus. They panted harshly as though nearing the brink. Their hips began to move, even when she wasn’t sucking. As she pleasured Bastien, Yannick’s hips rocked and jerked, apparently impatient for his turn.
Her jaws began to ache and she had to slow her strokes, treating Bastien to a slow, loving caress with her mouth. He tasted every bit as earthy and rich and sweet as Yannick. She slid her hand around to his buttocks to hold his hips tight to her mouth. She lavished little kisses to the head, then swirled her tongue lovingly around it.
“God, God, God,” he groaned.
She knew Yannick was watching her suck Bastien, his reflective eyes burning with need and lust. She saw how watching each other excited them more. She moved back to Yannick, and tried for a delightful show, exaggerating her caresses and her motions.
Bastien was panting wildly. Yannick was groaning.
The most scandalous idea took root. Something shocking and naughty and irresistible.
Quelling nerves, she took hold of their cocks, one in each hand. They stood side by side and she held the two pricks on either side of her mouth, each just an inch from her lips.
“Yes, sweetheart,” Bastien urged.
“Angel, you are unbelievably sensual,” Yannick whispered, and she heard the awe.
She licked Yannick’s beautiful prick first, then turned, saucily gazed up at Bastien. A dazzling drop of his come glistened on the tip and she licked it up. Under her lashes, she watched the agony contort their beautiful faces.
Bastien howled up the sky as she bobbed her head on him. Yannick joined the cry and they howled up to the moon like wild wolves.
“I’m going to come—now.” Bastien tried to pull back but she held his buttocks. She wanted this, wanted to taste his fluid.
“I can’t hold it—” He yelled and his buttocks clenched tight beneath her grasp. His hips lurched forward and suddenly her mouth was filled. Filled with wet fire, tangy and tart, swampy and rich. She swallowed, drinking it down, and Bastien shuddered as she did.
“Sweet, no, I’m too sensitive—”
Feeling devilish, she suckled him, drawing out more drops of his slightly sour semen. She Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 165
flicked each drop with her tongue and he moaned and trembled at the touch. His head arched forward as though all his strength had poured into her along with his come.
He cradled her cheek. “Sweet Althea.”
Yannick, she realized, had dropped to his knees. His silver eyes glowed, hot and hungry. He lifted her by her stocking-clad calves, arranging her over the smooth bench with her thighs parted. But as he stood at her side, obviously ready to mount, she took him into her mouth.
“Yes…” he groaned. Then, “No.” A distinct plea. “No, angel. You must be tired. Let me make love to you.”
Ignoring him, earl or no, she sucked him in. She loved to do this. Liked the taste of him, the feel of his flesh against her questing tongue.
But though she teased and suckled and licked and he moaned in delight, she couldn’t bring him to the edge. He had remarkable control.
Bastien had sank down to the bench at her back.
If you want to make him come for you,
there’s a little trick you must know. He’s developed impressive stamina, but if you do this, he
will surely explode.
Goodness, it was naughty to have a private conversation with Bastien while sucking Yannick, but she wanted to know the trick.
What do I do?
You must slide your finger into his arse.
She knew how much she loved being teased there with a tongue, remembered from Zayan’s chamber how much pleasure Bastien found from being penetrated that way.
But lick your finger first. Do it subtly, so he doesn’t suspect.
Althea obeyed, then pressed her fingertip to Yannick’s puckered entrance. Snug, tight, it refused to yield. Yannick’s cock swelled in her mouth, leapt upward. His legs almost buckled but he caught himself.
Find the trigger with your finger, sweeting, and send him off like a Vauxhall rocket.
Trigger? What did he mean? She wriggled her finger into his fire-hot passage. Velvety soft, it gripped her finger tight and she could barely slide it in.
His groan startled.
Am I hurting him?
No
, Bastien reassured,
he’s enjoying this very much
.
Yannick’s deep moan floated on the spring breeze. Gently, she withdrew her finger to the tip and slid it in again. The way they did to her with their cocks. A slow, long thrust. He swallowed her finger up. She crooked her finger, searching for this mysterious trigger.
And by sheer luck she found it.
“Angel!” Yannick’s cock swelled enormous in her mouth, then pulsed wildly, shooting his thick come into her mouth. She felt him restrain himself, felt him fight to control his jerking hips as he died away for her.
He panted for breath.
Afterward, Yannick dropped to his knees. She gasped at the sight of his elegant trousers ground into the dirt.
Sweet angel
. His mouth slanted over hers, kissing her deep. A hand took hold of hers.
Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 166
Bastien’s, she realized and he drew her to stand up.
Turn around
and bend over. Hold the
bench
.
“Bastien—” Yannick issued a low warning.
But her skirts bunched up at her back and Bastien’s fingers parted the slit in her drawers.
She squealed at the brush of cool air on her thighs, bare above her stockings. Two fingers slid deep, opening her. Bastien rested his hand on her hip.
“I do enjoy sex al fresco,” Bastien whispered.
Sex in the outdoors. Like her dream. Clutching the smooth surface of the bench, Althea steadied herself. To her astonishment, he tugged her drawers down. The fancy embroidered silk dangled around her knees and the breeze blew up her tumbled skirts and skimmed her naked bottom.
His hand clapped against her cheek. The pressure excited her and she arched back against it, presenting her bottom to him. She was so wet, his cock slid in easily as he pushed it into her.
On the first thrust, his hips collided with her derrière. She loved it, loved the way her cheeks jiggled, loved the tingling sensation.
He drove deep and his hips slammed into her again and again. His balls slapped against her wetness and the sound echoed into the quiet night, heightening their moans.
Yannick stroked her breasts and teased her lower lip with his tongue.
Wicked. She felt wicked and wild. Unfettered. Arching her back, she drove hard against Bastien and he pounded into her. She half-turned, catching her breath at the sight of him behind her, her legs splayed, Bastien’s bent and tensed. His hands were splayed on her hip and the small of her back. His hair flying forward as he…he fucked her from—
Aah!
The orgasm tore through her. Took her. Consumed her in a lush fire. Her legs collapsed, only Bastien’s hands held her up.
Yannick and Batien wrapped their arms around her, holding her tenderly, kissing her as the spasms faded. It was heaven. Wonderful.
Yannick brushed back the free strands of her hair.
Oh no.
She broke free, and, in a panic, she reached up. Her fingers brushed a loose curl… then several more. Her hair had fallen into a tangled mess. Bastien worked to smooth her skirts, but silk showed every crumple and crush.
How would she explain herself to Lady Peters?
“We’ll think of an alibi,” Yannick promised.
Bastien kissed her fingertips. “I vow we will always protect you, little dove.”
“Even from the matrons in the ballroom.” Yannick slid his arm around her shoulders and she let him draw her into his embrace. He was warm, strong. She let her arms slide around him.
Oh, it had been pure delight to make love, to have wild sex, to forget all the fears, and tension, and uncertainties.
Yannick kissed her disordered hair. “We will not stay away, sweeting; we will always protect you. From Zayan. From anything.”
Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 167
He couldn’t believe an innocent woman could invent such wicked sexual games.
As dawn rose and the day sleep began to claim him, Yannick sank back against the silk lining of his coffin. He could not resist reliving the stunning sight of Althea licking first his swollen cock and then Bastien’s, even though he was rewarded with a brick-hard erection that would haunt him painfully until dusk.
What amazed was how much she enjoyed playing the vixen. How much she enjoyed pleasuring both him and Bastien.
He was normally too jaded, too experienced, to reach orgasm from even the most skilled cock sucking. With Althea, he’d almost burst blood vessels trying to restrain himself.
And then…
Hades, his cock throbbed just to think about it, and the rim of his arse tightened with a sensual jolt…
Yannick couldn’t believe she had stroked inside his ass and sent him shooting off like a cannon.
Every memory of the night flooded through him, teasing and torturing him—
The silkiness of her tumbled hair as he’d pinned it up again. The sparkling trust in her eyes—the hope. She wanted to believe he, and Bastien, could survive.
Damn, his palms tingled, still feeling her satiny smooth skin.
And then he’d waltzed with her—tame compared to threesome sex in the garden—but it had been magical, and he’d loved holding her in his arms in front of society, loved making it known she was his.
He felt his heartbeat slow. His legs weakened; his arms, crossed over his chest, grew heavy.
Two nights until the full moon.
Bastien was climbing into the other coffin, which he had brought into this secret room. A decade ago he’d had it built into Brookshire House, erasing the memories of the workmen and the staff after its construction. A secret passage led back to his bedchamber, and when he rose at dusk, he would return there, and lie in his bed to muss up it up. Night after night.
While Yannick believed he could sleep in a bed, if he ensured that no light could enter his room, he still used the coffin, which immersed him in the complete dark. At least he did not sleep in the earth, as so many of the undead did in the Carpathian Mountains.
Bastien levered up into the box, then swung his legs in. His brother sat upright for a while, obviously thinking.
Yannick felt the sleep tug at him, fog his brain—when Bastien spoke, he couldn’t make out Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 168
the words.
“Brother,” Bastien repeated. “If the price of Althea’s love is living in peace with you, I have no choice but to do it.”
He had to make Bastien understand, even as his mind grew more tired.
We have to destroy
Zayan. I know you are thinking that you could let me die and claim everything I have, but then
you wouldn’t be able to protect Althea from Zayan.