Vines, Ella - Camille's Seduction [Dukes of Desire 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

“Mmmm.” She groaned loudly, her mouth full of Knoll’s dick.

“Yeah, bitch. Suck that fine prick.” Mortimer’s harsh words only turned her on more. He was as she had thought he would be, coarse and forceful. Camille spasmed in orgasm as Titus flicked his tongue around her nub and pushed fingers up to her cervix. She heard Mortimer grunt, and hot, wet liquid splashed onto her stomach. Her pussy clenched around Titus’s fingers.

“Yes, you have a sweet cunt,” he whispered, and she saw him pull his cock out of his underwear just as Knoll stiffened, and warm fluid gushed into her mouth. She swallowed it down, nearly choking on the salty, thick liquid, and he shouted as he came. Mortimer rubbed his cum into her belly, and the feeling aroused her again.

“That’s right, slut. You’re going to have it all over you.” His voice was a growl. Knoll kissed her, and she knew he tasted himself in her mouth. Camille heard Titus’s harsh breathing and saw him grow rigid and gasp. His hot liquid shot out, hitting her mons. She whimpered, still not sated even after her orgasm. Titus smiled at her.

“That was just the beginning. Once we’re married, we’ll consummate it, and all three of us are going to claim you.” Camille moaned in frustration at the thought of waiting.

“I told you we’d make you want us, little bird.” Titus kissed her and toweled her off with the sheet. Knoll nipped at her ear, and Mortimer whispered goodnight. A moment later, the candles were out, and the Tremont brothers were gone.

Chapter 3

Camille’s mind would not shut down. Once the pleasure was over, she came back to reality.
This is madness. I have to find a way out of here. What I’ve done is insane, immoral.
She stumbled out of bed and over to the window. She threw it open, breathing of the cool night air.
Think.
Her only chance was escape via the hallway. She lit the candle by her bed and slid on quiet feet into the hall. Tears ran down her cheeks at what she had done. When they found out, there would be no safety for her, not even in marriage. So, it’s either escape now or marry and stay quiet. Camille wanted the former. She kept walking down the hall, but she only got more lost. Sobs wracked her body. She stumbled and thudded against a door. It opened, and Mortimer Tremont pulled her into his arms.

“What are you doing out here, you silly wench?” He shut the door and pushed her against the wall.

“I can’t stay. This is all a mistake.” Tears ran down her cheeks, and he pulled her long hair in his hand. She felt his erection throbbing against her stomach as he held her against the wall.

“It’s no mistake, and you’re going to stay and be wife to Titus and woman for all three of us. I do not wish to marry, and there is no finer looking woman than you in all of London or anywhere I’ve been, and believe me, I have been.” He nipped at her ear, eliciting a moan from Camille. “It won't be so bad, you'll see.” He surprised her by kissing her, the tenderness of it taking her breath away.

“When I leave tomorrow, I’ll go away, and you won’t find me.”

Even as Camille spoke, she half-believed her own words. Did she really want to leave?

He tweaked her nipple, sending a bolt of pain and pleasure through her.

“No, you won’t. Your mother needs the money too much, and you need the marriage.” He curled his lips like a wolf.

“Don't be so sure of that. I can say no if I want to.” Tears slid down her cheeks, and he licked and sucked at them until Camille moaned with arousal.

“I know you will marry us because we want you, and we'll care for you, Camille. In fact, soon enough, I think you'll do anything we ask because you want it so much.” She shook her head no, and he pulled her hair, holding her head in place as he kissed her, biting her mouth and forcing his tongue inside her wetness. Camille’s thighs grew slippery with need. He let her go, and she gasped for breath.

“Yes, you will do what we ask, and right now, you’re going to suck my cock, you pretty wench.” Camille whimpered at the thought.

“Get on the floor and do it.” She slid down on her knees on the hard, stone floor, putting one hand around Mortimer’s muscled thigh and the other hand on the base of his cock. Only one other man before tonight had asked for and received this from her, and now he... Camille stopped the thought, focusing on the moment and her need as well as Mortimer’s. She squeezed the base of his cock in her hand, and he hissed as she swirled her tongue around the ridged top of it.

“Yes, slut. Suck it. I’ve wanted this for ages.” Mortimer’s language should have offended her, but instead, her thighs grew damp, and her cunt throbbed. She took more of him into her mouth, and he gripped her hair, pulling it until she moaned in mingled pain and ecstasy.

“You like it rough, don’t you, you, my sweet cocksucker?” Camille moaned in answer, taking him fully into her mouth, deep in her throat. He thrust into her, nearly choking her.

“Take that fat cock and suck it, girl.”

She did as he said, and he grunted in satisfaction. He slid in and out of her mouth, moaning his satisfaction.

“You’ve done this before. It’s the best I’ve ever had.” He gripped her shoulders as he shoved his prick in and out of her mouth, deep in her throat. Camille’s arousal ached, and she longed for release. Mortimer tensed and moaned long and deep as he shot his seed into her throat. She swallowed the thick liquid, amazed at how much he had produced after having just come earlier. He pulled her up off the floor and swung her on to the bed.

“I’m going to enjoy this pussy. It’s mine.” His words sent bolts of heat through her. He wrenched her thighs apart, burying his face in her heat. His tongue lapped at her, and he teased her clit with it as she writhed. He buried his meaty fingers inside her, stretching her pussy.

“What do you want, you cocksucking slut?”

“I...” She didn’t answer, too embarrassed to say.

“Tell me, or you won’t get it. I’ll throw you out of this room after I make you suck my prick again.”

“To feel pleasure,” she whispered. He plunged his hand inside her, making her moan.

“I need to hear you say it. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to make me come.”

“That’s what I guessed.” He put his mouth on her clit, biting it gently as he slid his fingers in and out of her. Camille teetered on the edge for a moment, and then waves of pleasure overcame her like none she had ever experienced. She felt her cunt throbbing against Mortimer’s fingers as she whimpered.

“Umm. Feel better, angel?” He laughed, letting her know he thought she was anything but an angel.

“Yes.”

“Good. I aim to please you. Come get into bed with me.”

“But.”

“No buts. I want you against me all night, and when we wake up, I’m going to come on that pretty ass of yours.” He squeezed her bottom and laughed. Camille climbed into his bed without a word. Exhaustion overtook her even as Mortimer slid into bed behind her and pulled her to his chest, his hands on her breasts.

“You’re going to make a fine slave to my fantasies, Camille.” His voice came rough in her ear, and an ache filled her unexpectedly. Was that all she was going to be to them when she had been so dear to someone else?

Chapter 4

Camille woke to fighting.

“Bloody hell, Mortimer! You broke the rules!”

“How so? She came to my room.” He lay beside her, and she could feel his stiff cock against her side.

“I don’t believe that.” Titus scowled.

“I–I did, but I didn’t mean to. I was trying to leave.” Knoll gave her a sympathetic look, his black hair ruffled.

“I see.” Titus’s voice was cold, and she realized he was jealous.

“So, there was no preference for Mortimer’s bed involved. He forced the issue.” She yawned.

“Did you?” Titus bit the words out, his jaw taut.

“No. I promised not to, but I did get my cock sucked.” Mortimer pressed against Camille in bed with his engorged prick, and she wanted to laugh, knowing he did it on purpose.

“Good for you. I imagine there will be plenty of that to go around.” Titus’s voice shook with anger.

“Look, I can’t help it you’re in love with the pretty slut.” Mortimer pressed into her thigh with his cock, and she shifted closer to him. Titus turned red with fury. Camille sat up in bed.

“That’s enough bickering. I’ve agreed to marry Titus. As my husband in the eyes of God and the church, I think he has the most say.” She turned to Mortimer.

“Don’t you?” She enjoyed the look of panic on his face.

“No, no, I...”

“We’re equals in this. He’s just the one who saw you first and wanted to be married.” Knoll gazed into her eyes, and she sensed his seriousness.

“Wonderful. Then claim your equality, and quit fighting over me. I, for one, am going to have breakfast, and then I’m leaving. I have a wedding to get ready for in a week, correct?” She flounced out of bed and stretched, taking her time to give them all a good look at her body.

“Yes. In a week. My carriage will come for you, and we’ll be married here in the castle before a very small audience.” Titus brushed her ass as she walked by.

“I’ll see you then.” Camille walked out, finding her room somehow in the daylight. She gathered her things, dressed, and went calmly down to breakfast.
This will be mine.
She marveled at the spacious dining room with gleaming mahogany throughout. Camille ate in a rush, ready to get back home and break the news to her mother.
She’ll be so happy. But is it worth it?
Her body jolted with memories of the night before and all three Tremonts pleasuring her. She squirmed in her chair.

One week until I’m theirs
, she thought as she walked out the front door. The Tremonts left her alone, and she appreciated how they had gauged her mood. Camille wanted to think in the limited time she had left to herself before she became wife to a powerful man...and his brothers.

* * * *

Her journey home took eons, at least in Camille’s mind. When she walked in the door, her mother met her, expectation in her eyes.
She knew something was going to happen to me while I was there.

“Mother, I’m to be married a week from today to Titus Tremont.” Camille pasted a big smile on her face and embraced her mother. She realized the other woman was sobbing.

“Does the news make you unhappy?” Camille looked at her face, worried.

“No. Just the opposite. I’m delighted for you, my dear. It’s more than I could have ever dreamed!”

“Good. I’m so glad.” Camille squeezed her mother’s hands.

“And everything is settled, then?” Ada gave her a worried look. Camille nodded, her heart squeezing in her throat at the lie. Her mother closed her eyes, tears slipping under the lids.

“Thank heavens.” She opened her eyes.

“Now, let’s summon the seamstress to make your dress. You can have anything you want, dear.” Camille smiled, her heart heavy.

* * * *

Her wedding day dawned bright and breezy, and Titus Tremont had agreed her mother and a few other close friends could attend the ceremony in the chapel at Tremont Hall. Sunlight spilled through grandiose stained glass windows, falling in red, blue, and yellow patches. Camille gazed at the shepherd and his sheep and prayed a silent prayer that all would be well, though she didn’t see how it could be. Even more disturbing than the unholy alliance she was choosing was the secret the Tremonts didn’t know. It was only a matter of time before they would find out, and the future would be at risk. Titus lifted her filmy veil, kissing her with a light peck. Anyone watching would have thought it was circumspect and sweet. Camille stifled a laugh at the thought of what she had already done with this man, now her husband, and his two brothers. They had a lavish reception, and Titus steered her around the room, the warm pressure of his hand on the small of her back making her think of her night with him and the others just a week before. Her breath quickened as Titus whispered in her ear,

“Just a few more minutes now, sweet bride, and you’re mine.” Finally the wedding party left. Titus turned to her.

“We’ll be up to see you shortly. Don’t take off that exquisite dress, princess. Please go into the master bedroom chamber. The door is open, and it’s just off the stairs.” Mortimer smirked, and Knoll tilted his head, staring at her. Camille said nothing, not trusting herself to speak. She glided up the stairs as if in a dream. The chamber was imposing with marble and gold everywhere. Even the bedspread had a gossamer spun look to it and a dramatic canopy and curtain. It was also strewn with white rose petals, and Camille’s breath caught at the romantic sentiment. Camille looked into the standing mirror and wondered how many other Tremont brides had done the same.
But none like me, bride to three brothers and harboring a secret that could destroy my future and theirs.
She admired the rosettes on her dress as well as her ample cleavage, highlighted by an expensive corset. A pearl necklace of her grandmother’s adorned her neck, and her hair flowed down her back as requested by Titus.