“This is perhaps the first time I’ve truly understood the advantages of being the grandson of a duke.” Jeremy laughed softly. “If I hadn’t been…”
Cordelia placed a finger across his lips. “Don’t say it. You’re right. You’re here now.”
“Cordy,” he said with a sigh. He sounded as if he was going to say something terribly important, and suddenly she didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want words. Instead she quickly kissed him, not bothering to hide her need for him. He was surprised at first but then kissed her back, slanting his lips across hers, sliding his tongue into her mouth and returning passion for passion.
When they broke the kiss she was panting. “It’s been ages since I’ve had you inside me,” she whispered. “I’m empty.”
Jeremy wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her hips to his. He was already hard. “God, Cordy, I missed you. I missed how open you are about all this.”
“All this?” she said with a laugh. “Shall I use naval talk?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Fuck me.”
Jeremy laughed in delight. “I never should have taught you that word. You naughty minx.” He spun her around and untied her apron. After she pulled it off he swatted her behind. “Upstairs. I mean to have my way with you.”
“Thank God,” she said with very real gratitude. She was already throbbing and ready, just the thought of Jeremy’s possession making her ache for it. This was without a doubt her favorite part of marriage. If she could she’d keep Jeremy in her bed for days. But she couldn’t, not with Rhys staying here with them. She only prayed she’d be able to lie with her husband without dreaming of Rhys too.
* * *
Jeremy was so hard for his wife it was all he could do not to drag her down on the steps, throw her skirts over her head and sink into her. He’d done it before. She’d always loved erotic play, from the first time she’d welcomed him into her bed. She was an enthusiastic and adventurous lover and he reveled in it. It was one of the reasons he knew she’d eventually relent and let Rhys into their bed. She loved to fuck. It was as simple as that. And she was very good at it. She’d taught him a thing or two about pleasure, even innocent as she’d been when he took her virginity. She knew what she liked and she wasn’t ashamed to ask for it.
She’ll enjoy having me and Rhys together.
The thought had his cock throbbing. He wanted to watch her fuck Rhys. God, how beautiful they’d be together. And she’d love Rhys’ cock, so big and thick. He’d seen it when he’d taken care of Rhys in Algiers and bathed him. She had a cunt made for it.
When they got to their bedroom they were both breathless. Cordy closed the door quietly and then she ran to him, kissing him boldly, her tongue taking his mouth furiously, her hands frantically working to free him from his clothes. Jeremy kissed her back, rubbing his cock against her hip through their layers of clothes. He needed skin. He shoved her away roughly. “Get undressed,” he ordered. “Now.”
She didn’t argue. She never did. She complied readily, but when she tried to whip her chemise over her head it got caught in the pins in her hair. “Ow,” she cried out. She peeked out at him from inside the garment. “I better slow down a bit.”
Jeremy laughed as he tore his own shirt over his head. “Not too slow, or I’ll come without you.”
“You better not,” she warned. “I’m dying to be fucked.”
Jeremy laughed again. Rhys hadn’t believed him when he’d told him she had a dirty mouth in the bedroom. He couldn’t wait to hear her ask Rhys to fuck her the first time. Rhys would probably climax on the spot.
She turned away as she pulled the chemise off, teasing him with a view of her long, bare back. She raised her hands and began to take the pins out of her hair, wearing nothing but woolen drawers, stockings and slippers. She looked like a whore and he loved it. God, he wanted to share this with Rhys. He slid up behind her and pressed his bare chest against her back, cupping her breasts in his palms. She filled his hands nicely, plump and warm, though her nipples were hard from the chill in the room. The fire was burning, but it was winter, after all.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she said with a breathy sigh. “Squeeze them.”
He chuckled and did as she asked, stopping just short of too rough. Her hips moved, bumping her bottom against his cock. She pulled the last pins out of her hair and it tumbled down around her shoulders, brushing his cheek. He took a deep breath, loving the scent of her, all woman and flowers and musk.
“I want you to suck them,” she said, pressing her hands over his. “I can’t do that myself.”
“What did you do yourself?” he asked, turning her around. He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, rolling it on his tongue and then sucking it, pulling deeply, the way she liked. She moaned and gripped the back of his head.
“I made myself come with my fingers and hands,” she confessed. “The way you taught me. I’d have gone mad if I couldn’t.”
Jeremy slid his hand down the front of her drawers, slowly combing his fingers into the warm nest of hair he found there. She gasped and pumped her hips, silently asking for more. He saw no reason to deny her, or himself. He slid his hand all the way down between her legs and cupped her. She was wet with need, her quim hot and swollen. Without preamble he pushed a finger into her as far as he could go. She moaned deeply and he felt her inner walls ripple around his finger. He pulled away from her nipple with one last lick. “So soon?” he murmured. “You have been lonely.”
“I wanted you so much,” she cried out softly, moving up and down on his finger. “My own hand is not a good substitute for yours, and is a very poor replacement for your cock.”
He licked across her collarbone and bit her shoulder, moving his hand so that his finger was fucking her roughly. She was so tight. They’d only been married a year when he left. She felt untried again.
She cried out and he felt her come. Her channel clenched on his finger and a wash of hot cream bathed his hand. “Christ,” he murmured into her ear. “You’re so perfect.”
“Fuck me,” she said breathlessly. “I need more.”
Her words should have driven him onward, but instead they cut like a knife. There was more for her, and he needed to tell her. Needed to tell her that he and Rhys both wanted her, that they could both fuck her. But he’d promised Rhys he wouldn’t, and the words lodged in his throat.
Cordy broke away and stripped off her drawers. She sat down on the bed to remove her shoes and stockings. “Hurry,” she urged him. “Take me.”
He hesitated a moment, but then he pulled off his boots and shucked his pants. Damn him for a selfish bastard, he was still hard for her, even though guilt over Rhys gnawed at him. She watched him and then she crawled up to the middle of the bed and lay on her back, her legs spread wide. “Fuck me,” she begged, lifting her hips in invitation. “Please.”
Jeremy couldn’t resist her. He didn’t want to. She was his beloved wife and they’d been apart for almost a year. He’d thought never to have the chance to take her again. He crawled up on the bed and covered her, thrusting home in one smooth pump of his hips. They both gasped. Then she wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly, forcing his cock deeper into the warm channel of her cunt. “Yes,” she hissed, working her hips, taking him deeper and deeper, clenching on him. “It feels so good to be filled again.” She buried her face in his neck and he felt her hot tears against his skin.
Jeremy began to move. He simply couldn’t say still. Not tonight. Tonight he needed to fuck.
His thrusts were powerful and the bed moved slightly with a scratching noise and a gentle thump. Cordy dug her nails into his back. “Shh,” she admonished breathlessly. “Rhys will know what we’re doing.”
Hearing his name from her lips while he was fucking her was nearly Jeremy’s undoing. “He already knows,” he told her boldly. “He told me to go to you, to fuck you like this.”
“Oh, God,” she said, throwing her head back and lifting her hips to meet his thrusts. He felt her walls tremble again. Was it the mention of Rhys?
“He knows how much I missed you,” Jeremy went on in a rough voice. “Knew I was dreaming of your sweet cunt and burying my cock inside you. I told him. I told him how perfect you were. How hot and tight and insatiable.” And he had, countless times on endless pain-filled nights.
“Jeremy,” she cried out. Her nails were sharp and dug deep in his shoulders and she shuddered under him. Jeremy increased his pace, his hips thrusting mercilessly, the bed now loudly thumping against the wall.
“Tell me you’re glad,” he whispered in her ear harshly. “Tell me you’re glad Rhys knows how perfect you are in my bed.”
“Yes,” she cried out and then she came again, and the tight clamp of her cunt on his cock, the rush of hot cream against him, made him groan and he came with a relief that made him tremble. The flood of his semen as he released was an almost painful pleasure, hot and sharp and biting.
As he lay there in the aftermath, loving her and hating the lies, he heard a noise in the hallway. Before she could protest he was out of bed and had thrown the door open.
* * *
Cordelia gasped as Jeremy threw the door open. She was still lying on top of the bedcovers, her legs splayed. She could feel the evidence of their intimacy between her legs, and knew anyone in the hall could see it too.
But it wasn’t anyone in the hall. It was Rhys. He was huddled on the floor across from the bedroom door, his knees tucked into his chest, his bare arms wrapped around his lowered head. He wore nothing but his pants. He jerked his head up, looking as startled by the suddenly open door as Cordelia had been. He scrambled to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he cried out, sounding guilty and fearful. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I didn’t. I couldn’t sleep.” His eyes were frantically going from a very naked Jeremy, cock still half-hard and dripping, to a very naked Cordelia spread out on the bed. She gasped again and rolled off, grabbing the blanket as she did to try to cover herself.
Rhys turned to run and she saw his back. She cried out at the sight of the angry red crisscrossed scars covering it. “Rhys!” she said, stumbling to the door.
Jeremy had grabbed Rhys’ arm and pulled him in close, so that he was pressed to Jeremy, chest to chest. Neither man seemed to care about their nudity. “Tell her,” he said to Rhys, his voice gentle. “Tell her now, or I will.”
Cordelia only half heard him. She approached the men, her hand held out in front of her, reaching for Rhys’ back. At her touch, Rhys stiffened. “Don’t,” he snarled.
She jerked her hand back. “Does it hurt if I touch it?” she asked. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “Touch doesn’t hurt it anymore.” He twisted in Jeremy’s arms but couldn’t get away, and that was when Cordelia noticed how very thin he was. He’d always been the bigger of the two, with broad shoulders and a brawny chest. She didn’t hesitate again. She walked up and pressed her cheek to his scarred back, wrapping one arm around him while she held the blanket to her with the other.
“Oh, Rhys,” she said, pain and regret filling her voice. “Rhys.” She kissed his back and he slumped in Jeremy’s arms.
“I’m not the same,” he whispered.
“Yes, you are,” she told him. “You are.” She hugged him tightly. “You’re the same man I fell in love with. The same one I love still.”
The air seemed to leave the hallway as they stood there in silence. Cordelia was ready to pull away when Jeremy spoke. “I told you,” he whispered in Rhys’ ear. “I told you she loves you.”
“But I love you too,” she said, desperately trying to make them understand. “I love you both, and always have. I’m so sorry, Jeremy. I do love you, as a woman should love her husband, but my feelings for Rhys never died despite our marriage.” She hugged Rhys tighter, not wanting to give up the contact now that she had it. She pressed her lips to his bare skin again, a shiver racing through her at the thought that all that stood between them was the thin blanket she was holding. She was a shameless whore to be thinking it—her sex was still weeping from a glorious homecoming with her husband—but she didn’t care.
“Cordelia,” Rhys whispered in a scratchy voice, clearly rough from emotion. He gripped her wrist where she held him and he pressed her arm tighter against him. She held her breath at the small sign of his feelings for her.
“This wasn’t the way I meant to tell you,” she whispered, a tear escaping and running down her cheek. “I’ve hurt you, Jeremy. I’m so sorry. Please don’t be angry with me.”
“I could never be angry with you, Cordy,” Jeremy said softly. “I love you too much.” He sighed. “I think we have a great deal to talk about. Don’t you, Rhys?”
Rhys was silent for a long moment. “Yes,” he finally answered, and Cordelia knew there were going to be some painful confessions this night, for all of them.
“Do you need the salve the doctor gave us?” Jeremy asked him. He ran his hand down Rhys’ back gently. The heat felt good. He’d stupidly stumbled out to the chilly hallway without enough clothes on, and his back had stiffened up atrociously from sitting there. He shook his head in disgust. He had no common sense anymore.
“Yes,” he admitted grudgingly. “It’s sore and stiff. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Cordelia said softly from behind him. He felt her hand follow Jeremy’s along the same path and the heat this time was from within. God, it seemed he’d waited years to have the two of them touch him like that. Together. She kissed him again and his hard cock twitched. He’d been out here listening to them fuck, heard their harsh whispers and the bed slamming, and he’d nearly torn the door off the hinges to get in there.
“It’s not your fault,” Cordelia said. “You’re injured.”
He stiffened in her arms then and pulled away from them both. “Not really. This is how I am now. How I’ll always be. The doctor said it would never really go away. The scarring is so bad it will always be tight and somewhat painful.”
“Oh, Rhys,” she whispered. The pity on her face was too much to bear.