Читать книгу Secrets of Sin - Chloe Harris - Страница 8

Madame Poivre was swaying her broad hips more than usual. Reinier could tell because he was right behind her when she was showing them up the stairs. Something was on her mind, something exciting, something besides money. He would have liked to wonder some more, but she opened the door to the best suite on the second floor and, stepping aside, murmured a low, “Amusez-vous, messieurs.”

Reinier stepped inside and let his coat fall over the one chair in the room. Hearing Connor sucking in his breath, he turned. His friend had stopped short, eyes fixated on the woman standing by the windows. Reinier pivoted to see what had Connor so captivated.

Her exceptionally long, strawberry blond hair fell down her sides like an exotic veil. Her hair was straight, as straight as her back when she heard the door close, and she slowly lifted her chin to meet their gazes. She wore a flimsy white dressing gown over a matching corset that was cut below her breasts. The long undergarments emphasized her slim calves and delicate ankles.

Reinier felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. She was tall and thin, but nevertheless beautiful. A rare jewel to be sure. Not as rare as turquoise…The thought of her had his expression turn to stone, so he reined in his wandering mind.

She was pale, which only emphasized the dark green quality of her eyes. And as Madame Poivre had pointed out, freckles were lavishly strewn over her features and décolleté. Although her lips were broad and a little too thin for Reinier’s taste, they seemed created for luscious pleasures. She was beautiful, indeed. She was a very beautiful whore.

Turning back to Connor, Reinier saw that his friend seemed to have stopped breathing altogether. He looked spellbound, almost frozen in place.

As realization dawned on Reinier, his eyes briefly widened and he felt a knowing, albeit sad, smile on his lips. He’d been there. Reinier knew only too well how it felt when instant attraction hit and rattled a man like lightning.

The poor boy. Somehow Reinier had a strong feeling that this was a woman the Irishman wouldn’t be able to easily walk away from.

Tilting his head in thought, Reinier licked his lips slowly. After all their adventures before and after his marriage, Reinier had not thought it could ever happen to Connor. He could only hope he would have far better luck with it than Reinier had ever had.

His gaze was locked with Connor’s as the Irishman shook himself out of his trance, his eyebrows puckering in a whimsical way. Reinier ignored Connor’s quizzical look and crossed the room to sit on the bed. Casually, he leaned back, bracing himself against the mattress. He was not going to start the game this time. If Connor was, indeed, feeling what Reinier thought he was, he would have to decide the next step to take.

That instant, when both men were looking at her, she cleared her throat, lowered her gaze, and self-consciously tried to cover herself. “Gentlemen,” she began tentatively and quietly, “I have been instructed on what you expect. So, what would you have me do?”

A fleeting glance at Connor told Reinier that he was too hypnotized by her smoky voice to react, so Reinier drawled, “Patience. We have all afternoon and half of the night for this.” Reinier paused before he added, “At least I do. I believe my friend can stay even longer.”

If it was possible, she blanched even more at those words, swallowed, and looked down. Finally, Connor found his way out of his stupor, threw his coat carelessly on top of Reinier’s, and stalked toward her. Moving around her, he eyed her from all sides. His sapphire eyes glittered with appreciative sparkles. Subtly leaning forward as if he was trying to catch the scent of her hair, Connor closed his eyes. “Tell us your name.” His words were barely more than a whisper.

Instead of answering, instead of maybe even giving them a false name, she only shook her head. Just as well.

Then Reinier saw her shudder and he couldn’t help feeling a little bit for her. She was frightened to death. But there was no need to be. He knew that if Connor still wanted this, they would both skillfully seduce her. It was an art they had perfected a long time ago.

Connor walked around until he stood right in front of her. “Are you cold?”

He captured her hands in his. Reinier noticed she wanted to pull away but apparently thought better of it.

“Come. Sit down,” Connor offered, guiding her to the bed until she had no choice but to perch on the edge beside Reinier. The Irishman sat down on the other side of her, gently massaging her hands in his. “I am Connor. And this is Reinier.”

So, it was to be the both of them? Inwardly, Reinier was surprised at Connor’s choice. But maybe it was better this way.

She refused to look at either of them. Instead, her eyes were fixated on a spot on the floor.

“Tell us something about you,” Reinier encouraged, hiding the low, purring note in his voice. “Where are you from?”

She raised her head slowly at that and stared at him, full of suspicion. But when she looked into his eyes, her face relaxed and her cautiousness eased. She was fascinated.

Reinier’s singular eyes were indeed a blessing most of the time. One would think he would grow tired of others’ reaction to them, but all too often the advantage served his purpose.

The woman before him vigorously shook herself out of her enthrallment and looked down again upon replying, “Éire. I was born and raised in Ireland.”

Connor stopped caressing her hands and his eyebrows drew up in obvious surprise.

Reinier’s and the Irishman’s eyes briefly met over her shoulder. They had both noticed the sophisticated way she expressed herself.

“Born and raised?” Reinier repeated her words as a question to nudge her to tell them more. Meanwhile, Connor tenderly rubbed her upper arms. She let it happen; in fact, she didn’t seem to notice at all.

She nodded to emphasize her story. “I am a maid’s daughter. My father is unknown.”

Perhaps if she’d looked him straight in the eyes, Reinier could have believed it. As it was, it was clear that she had diligently made it up.

Reinier tried his best to hide a grin. “You look like you loved to ride through the vast green fields bareback.”

Eyes wide with astonishment, her mouth opened and closed. Her eyes began to sparkle unexpectedly, as if with fond memories. “Indeed, I did! Much to my cousins’ dismay, though.” She laughed. “But was it my fault that their horses weren’t as fast as mine?”

Mirth made Reinier purse his lips as he, again briefly, locked gazes with Connor. He, too, was smiling mischievously. They had caught her unawares with that.

Now Connor leaned forward and breathed into her ear, “You had a horse?”

Her laughter died as abruptly as it had erupted. She blushed and her eyes widened, realizing she had been caught red-handed. Reinier felt smug. He enjoyed playing with her as much as Connor did.

Quickly regaining her composure, she came up with another facet to her story. “Of course not. I only helped the groom so often that he let me secretly ride a horse when the masters weren’t home.”

At the indignant glare Connor received along with her words, his eyes dilated. Reinier was sure that never in Connor’s life had reproach been that arousing for him.

“You were grooming horses when you didn’t work in your masters’ household?” Reinier took one of her elegant, slim hands into his. His eyes flicked to Connor’s. Receiving Connor’s minuscule nod, Reinier brought her hand up to his mouth.

Connor’s caress on her upper arms changed, slowing and softening to a light touch up and down her arms.

Reinier kissed her palm, a palm that was not flawed by calluses and old scars from blisters as a maid’s would have been. He decided to let it go. She must have her reasons for this. Besides, they had said quite enough.

Feeling the slight tremble of her hand under his lips, Reinier looked up at her. He slowly guided her hand in his to his abdomen and placed it there, letting her feel his body through his garments.

Connor’s fingers brushed her hair from one ear. She shivered when he brought his lips close. Leaning forward, Reinier mirrored Connor’s caress at the other side of her neck. Their lips whispered over her skin, raining featherlight kisses, lavishing gentle nibbles.

Her fingers on Reinier’s abdomen twitched, betraying her arousal. Not only that, her skin was already so sensitized, it rippled beneath his lips. Her head fell back a little and she gradually began to subtly move against them.

She was a highly sensual creature. Despite her obvious shyness, this was very promising.

A particularly precious aroma filled Reinier’s lungs and made his head light—the faint nuance of delicate white roses surrounded by a deeper note of sweet sandalwood, Connor’s natural fragrance. Reinier knew it so well by now, and still it did not fail to pique his arousal. The spice in the air mingled with his own darker scent and was accentuated by her feminine musk, growing and wrapping itself around them all.

As if that had been their cue, both he and Connor parted their lips. Their tongues wet the silken skin of her long, elegant neck. Again, she shivered. Then she sighed.

Never ceasing his attentions on her neck, Reinier knew Connor’s hands wandered down her sides to play with the little ribbon that held her gown together. The gown slipped down her shoulders as Connor nudged it off her arms and parted it to reveal her upper body to them. Obeying the slight pull, her arms fell to her sides and the fabric came off.

Reinier drew back just long enough to see her sensitive peaks harden, pleading for attention. He cupped her chin to gently urge her head back a little more now that Connor’s nibbling and caressing lips wandered down her shoulder. Subtly moving closer, Reinier spread his fingers over her delicate neck; then they wandered lightly down to the top part of her breasts.

Cupping one of them, he gently squeezed it. Connor’s hand came up to cup her other breast. His thumb toyed with the hard peak in his hand; Reinier could feel it, because the back of Connor’s hand brushed against his chest at the same time.

When Reinier’s lips found the frantically beating pulse at the base of her neck, he opened his mouth a little more and waited for another blissful gasp from her. As soon as it came, he gently bit into the satiny, frail skin.

She jumped at the erotic assault and bowed to allow them both better access to her body. Her body’s subtle movements against them became more urgent. She was restless. Her other hand grabbed the bedcover, but before she could ball it into a fist, Reinier snatched it and guided it to the buttons of his shirt.

“Undress me,” he whispered against her skin and helped her with the first button, noticing that Connor was busying himself opening the laces of her corset at her back. It slipped away just as Reinier’s shirt fell open far enough that he could shed it.

The garment hadn’t even touched the floor when Reinier’s lips found her skin again and his hand found hers. He guided her to him just like before, making her touch him. She complied, but when her fingertips brushed his breeches’ seam, she stiffened. At the sudden change in her, Connor’s head snapped up.

To be honest, Reinier was gradually growing a bit weary of her highly improper decency. He rolled his eyes with mild impatience at Connor, who bit his lower lip as if struggling to ban his obvious mirth from erupting in an audible chuckle.

Reinier resigned with an inward sigh. If this was going too fast for her, they’d do it another way. Capturing her earlobe between his lips, Connor’s hands came round her waist again and wandered up her front until he reached her breasts. He squeezed them just enough so that they stood up, begging Reinier for a lick, a taste…

Mouth closing fully over one puckered flower, Reinier suckled her until the erect pebble was right between his teeth and he could gently nip at it. His effort was not in vain. His reward was her honeysweet gasp full of want. Another shiver shook her, this time more intense than before. She threw her head back against Connor and Reinier took advantage of her distraction, quickly opening the lace that held her undergarment. He locked his fingers into its seam, and while Connor lifted her up a little, Reinier rid her of the last piece of cloth shielding the rest of her body from their seduction.

She blanched briefly at being fully exposed to them now, but Reinier paid that no mind. She’d blush with hunger in a moment, sigh and moan and beg for more. He knew it.

Connor laid her back onto the end of the bed but left them, crawling farther up and, leaning against the headboard, watched their performance. Looming over her, Reinier let his lips draw a path of wet kisses and mild nibbles down her body. Bracing himself against the bed with one arm, his other found her thighs and nudged them apart for his exploration. At his touch a ragged sigh escaped her throat. Instantly, her hips were rolling in a slow rhythm as old as time.

Connor’s eyes were sweeping over them both, lingering here and there. Reinier could feel it. The heat in the Irishman’s gaze provoked ripples of gooseflesh running over Reinier’s skin and his nostrils flared. He could smell her syrupy musk, intense but not quite ready for the taking. Lust exploded in his mind. Anticipation sizzled through his veins.

Just as he was about to let his tongue flick over the hollow where her neck met her shoulders, he saw her balling her hands into the bedcover. Reinier’s eyes narrowed. This would not do.

His hand wandered over her thigh and up to her lower belly just above her mons. He heard Connor’s low, appreciative rumble. He was watching as Reinier let his index and middle fingers draw a luscious path down to her warm, welcoming heat.

At first, she moaned low as Reinier let his fingers play over her, caressing her, spreading her. Then her body heaved off the bed as his fingers found her erect nub. He circled it, then concentrated on it. When he rubbed it gently, she keened, her hips arching wildly to his touch as she climbed toward release. She was ready, primed to climax.

But Reinier stopped his caress altogether and she groaned in her abandonment, breaths coming shallow and fast. His hand remained completely still while he delighted in her frustrated moan. At that, Connor chuckled, a low, sultry sound, like velvet rubbing against Reinier’s back.

Looking up, Reinier watched Connor touch himself, his broad hands brushing over his belly and lower still. When he reached the fly of his breeches, Connor rubbed the impressive bulge in the garment. Reinier’s lids lowered, and hissing through clenched teeth, he felt his own hardness twitch and strain against his breeches.

Another surge of her slickness bathed his fingers resting in her dewy folds and drew his attention back to her. Parting his fingers suddenly, Reinier spread her core and bent down, buried his face against her, and let his tongue delve and play over her with the exhilarating finesse of an expert, continuing what his fingers had started.

Once more her body heaved off the bed. Once more she moaned and Reinier burrowed deeper, tasting her, and swirled and toyed with the exact spot that made her writhe and shudder under his touch.

But just like before, he halted. And just like before, release did not find her.

Reinier moved off the bed to crouch between her spread legs. His eyes traveled slowly over her glistening core and the moment he saw, he understood. So, this was her secret. It all made sense now, her shyness, her lack of experience. But the bed was moving; Connor was getting up and stalking toward him.

Quickly, Reinier covered her moistness with the flat of his hand, disguising the protective gesture with a rolling movement against her. Her breaths came in sighs. Her lids fluttered close. She wanted it. Every fiber of her body screamed for it. So, Reinier kept silent. He stored her secret for later, though.

The gentle, exquisite pressure against all of her center had her hips meet his hand with a steady rhythm. Connor crouched down behind him. He pressed close, fondling the soft tissue of the scar on Reinier’s back. Longing streaked through his body. When he turned his head, their eyes met. Leaning forward, Connor’s arm came around Reinier.

“Let me have a taste. She smells so sweet,” Reinier heard Connor whisper. Parting his fingers, Reinier exposed only her sensitized bud for Connor’s kiss.

His body pressed fully against Reinier’s as his tongue flicked over her for a quick sample. Then the Irishman’s dark head bent and his mouth closed entirely over her most ticklish spot. Connor licked and swirled his tongue over her, light and fast, until she squirmed on the bed and moaned helplessly. His tongue was pleasuring her, taking her higher and higher. Suddenly, her arms snaked up and her hands fisted in Connor’s hair.

“Please,” she sobbed, begged.

Reinier smiled when he heard Connor’s muffled chuckle. One last flick of his tongue and Reinier saw the coil that had been nourished spring free. Her body was shaken with tremors, tiny, violent quakes of ecstasy. Connor continued his sweet, gentle caresses, lapping at her with the flat of his tongue until her body stopped trembling with the force of her climax.

Connor drew back and left Reinier also to crawl up the bed to her side. Elbow braced against the mattress, the Irishman’s gaze settled on her passion-flushed face while he cupped her breast and squeezed it gently, pressing a fleeting kiss to her earlobe. Reinier came to lie on her other side just as Connor’s arm came around her limp body and her eyes fluttered open.

Reinier saw the light of understanding in her eyes. She had been told to give, but now she comprehended that she was supposed to take pleasure in return.

Tentatively, she brought her hands up and placed them on Connor’s sculpted upper body. Gooseflesh rose where her hands explored, and the Irishman closed his eyes lazily. Seemingly emboldened by his reaction to her touch, her fingers, although hesitant, ran over the prominent bulge in Connor’s breeches.

Reinier let his head rest over hers to watch her progress. He pressed his front into her back, and instinctually her body started moving against him. Reaching down, Reinier entwined her fingers with his to help her unbutton Connor’s fly, and as soon as it was open far enough, he guided her in.

Connor hissed when Reinier wrapped her small hand around his hardness. His own hand grasped her wrist and he showed her how to stroke him. Down he guided her, then up.

His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin beneath her earlobe, his breath cooling the wet trail just a little. “Slowly,” Reinier breathed into her ear. “But hard, lass. Squeeze the tip just a little before you let your hand slide back down again.” Hearing Connor’s deep, throaty purr sent a yearning quiver through Reinier. He moved against her more, his own hardness riding the cleft of her cheeks.

She answered them both with a soft moan. While her hand on Connor became bolder, her body moved, rubbing against them like a lazy cat at first, but soon her motions became more urgent, faster.

Receiving their attention only for the moment, Connor wrapped his arm around both their heads and Reinier grabbed her free hand. He entwined her fingers with Connor’s and sat up, guiding them to her mouth. She needed a little encouragement, though, so he pressed their fingers against her lower lip until she parted her lips to welcome them.

“Yes, sweet. Take his fingers into your mouth. Let them go a little, then suck at them again.”

She did as he had instructed her; quickly, Reinier laid her on her back and nudged her thighs apart while she continued to suckle Connor’s digits. Braced on his arms, he settled between her legs, pushing his cock, still painfully confined in his breeches, against her creamy core. Then he leaned down, his tongue flicking over her earlobe. “Now let your tongue run around his fingertips every time they almost slip from your lips.”

He saw she obeyed; her throat jumped as she rolled her tongue, and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked Connor’s fingers deeper into her mouth.

Reinier’s breathing was coming hard. Her honey soaked his breeches, cooling his hot flesh for just a tiny moment. “Very good,” he encouraged her, well aware that his voice was hoarse with hunger.

He wanted more. Now. It was high time they got to the heart of the matter. Rolling off her, Reinier shed his breeches, then crawled a little farther up the bed to lie on his side.

He cupped the back of her head. “Wrap your hand around me and stroke me.”

She let go of Connor and turned to her side to face Reinier. She was studying him closely now, and Reinier had to press his lips together not to chortle at the mixture of fascination and bewilderment on her face. Tentatively, her hand wrapped around him. Immediate, sizzling lust shook his body at her touch.

Reinier noticed the bed move under him. Connor must be getting rid of his breeches also, he thought, and when he looked down, he saw Connor’s arm come around her waist, his dark head bent over hers.

“Use your mouth on him,” Reinier heard Connor instruct her.

Another surge of quivering sparks, both hot and cold, washed over him as he heard the Irishman’s sensual command. Lifting her chin, she met Reinier’s gaze and hesitated. Her eyes flicked from his cock to his face and back. Timidly, she bent and opened her mouth. Reinier’s blood was pumping harder, every inch of his skin alive and burning for more. Her tongue snaked out to lick over his tip. At that, a shiver ran through him.

Her lips explored him, the taste, the feel of him. Reinier’s hips bucked on their own accord, his flesh straining to be engulfed by her, feeling that hot, wet mouth surround him, taking him in…

Finally, she wrapped her lips around him, wiggling them a little to accommodate his width. With a pleased sigh, Reinier closed his eyes and bent his head back. The world ceased to exist. He breathed joy. He tasted lust. He felt longing. He saw flickers of desire dance merrily before his eyes.

Then he felt her hand on his rod too. Connor must have guided her there. As if from far away he heard him rumble, “Let your lips follow your hand.”

After a few tries she found the right rhythm.

“Open your throat. Don’t swallow. You can take him even deeper then.” Reinier had to suppress a moan. When she did as Connor had instructed her, the sensation became scalding. The suction was harder as well. Just the way he liked it.

Soon she was teasing him and Reinier’s body was shocked with electrifying sizzles from head to toes. She was sucking him hard just before her mouth would slide loosely over him. Reinier arched to her caress with a gasp of pleasure.

“Methinks we have just discovered her major talent, my friend.”

“I expected as much,” Connor chuckled hoarsely, the amusement in his voice clearly drenched with lust. “Her skill must be outstanding, having been blessed with lips as gorgeous as hers.”

Reinier felt light-headed, as if he were floating. His laugh became darker and ended in a blissful sigh. Bringing his head forward, he watched Connor spreading her legs again. He tested her readiness, and when she moaned against Reinier, the vibration echoed in his body and made him close his eyes briefly at the pleasant shudder running through him yet again.

They shifted. Connor was kneeling, arranging her shoulder-down and bottom-up while she continued her ministrations on Reinier, who lay down farther onto his back, all the while observing Connor position himself behind her. He’d never tire of watching the Irishman at that.

Connor’s hands clamped around her waist. Then his hips rolled forward with what seemed like agonizing slowness. He stuffed her inch by inch. He must have been halfway in when she released Reinier and threw her head back with a gasp that soon turned into a moan.

Reinier urged her head back down onto him, his gaze settling back on Connor, who was smiling dreamily with his lids lowered. Connor always savored that moment. His eyes slid closed completely and the expression on his face soon relaxed entirely. He parted his lips slightly at the soft shiver shaking his body. Reinier knew then that Connor was seated deep in her, almost up to the hilt.

Her pace on Reinier changed, settling into the rhythm Connor dictated. His thrusts were slow at first. Connor pulled out again almost completely, only to push back into her, but still he was taking his time with it. Momentarily, his thrusts deepened, and so did her eager mouth on Reinier.

Their dance was faster now, more urgent. The primal rhythm was taking over. She trembled and whimpered each time Connor thrust into her, shuddered and sighed when he moved his hips back.

Her moans scorched through Reinier’s veins. Fiery, voluptuous embers showered him. Feeling her mouth around him echoing Connor’s slide in and out of her was almost too much. His whole body stiffened with his impending climax.

Stop. Reinier needed her to stop. Now. Let them finish, he thought; he’d have his turn later.

His hands clamped around her head to keep her from moving. The desire lashing through him protested, but eventually his iron will won over. Reinier hissed with both relief and anguish when her lips freed him.

Reinier kept his eyes closed, reveling in the soft glow of passion not quite gratified. The bed was gently rocking beneath him. With those movements he could feel Connor easing his thick shaft out of her hot moistness and gliding back in. She moaned every time he filled her, sighed each time he pulled out. The rocking quickened. Connor’s strokes must have become more intense.

Connor was close.

The thought swirled in Reinier’s mind, a vague idea at first, rolling, rocking like the bed under him.

Just in time, Reinier opened his eyes to see Connor’s body trembling with his climax. He cupped his flesh and spilled his seed over the small of her back, his hips moving slightly still while he squeezed himself until he was spent. His eyes remained closed the whole time, his lips slightly parted. When he opened them again, they were dark, dilated, contented, as was the smile he gave Reinier just before he fell to the side with a sigh.

Now it was his turn, or at least Reinier thought it would be. Their union could have freed Connor of that recent possessiveness, or it could have enforced it. But there was only one way to find out.

Reinier came to kneel behind her, the satiny skin of her legs tickling against the tiny hairs on his hard thighs. He rubbed Connor’s quickly drying seed into the skin of her back and down her thighs, while his other hand was bathing in her juices. Reinier was drawing her moistness up her cleft to make sure he wouldn’t hurt her when his exploring finger entered her where she would surely least expect it. If his suspicions about Connor were correct, he—unfortunately—wouldn’t get anything beyond his hand near her tight bud.

“What—” She jumped and gasped at the intrusion at first, but as soon as Reinier started his arousing game there, moving very slowly in and out, she relaxed immediately with a deep, breathy moan.

At that Connor’s eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly, placing his hand on Reinier’s stomach to bar him from moving any more.

“No.” Connor’s growl was impressive. Poor Irish bastard, the siren’s call had him now.

Reinier lifted his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Connor didn’t reply. He only shook his head. Reinier had to avert his gaze to hide the telltale glitter of understanding in his eyes.

How sweet. Connor felt territorial. But it was a shame, really. The world would certainly mourn the loss of a glorious rake such as Connor.

“I see,” Reinier gasped a little exaggerated and somewhat disappointed, but he wasn’t bothering to hide the triumphant, meaningful smile he felt. “Seeing that she is out of the question, I might have to find someone else for it, though,” he whispered, leaning closer, so close to Connor that their lips almost met.

Reinier had expected anything but Connor’s surprising response, a sly curling of his lips into much the same enigmatic smile he himself had felt on his own face mere moments ago.

“You are charmingly incorrigible.” Connor smirked. “Go ahead and tease me now. But you’ll see. You’ll soon see, my friend.”

Now it was Reinier’s turn to look—and feel—quite perplexed.