Cecilia's Claim (2 page)

"I’m afraid
I'm not actually looking. You know, I'm quite old enough to look after
myself." The apple of his eye cast a disparaging glance at her elder
sibling. "Perry needn't trouble himself."

"It's done.
There's no need to argue the point, puss. Perry will look out for you until you
turn twenty-five, and then you'll have all the joy of looking out for yourself
you could wish. A year isn't so long to wait. And Perry," He frowned
sternly at his eldest boy. "Will not be a trial to you, will you my
boy?" Perry grunted noncommittally and Gerard sighed again. "Go on.
I've a lot of packing to do. And you...Yes, it is necessary to leave Nelson to
help you. You've a damned supercilious attitude and frankly, I'm rather
concerned that you'd run roughshod over your siblings if I left it entirely up
to you. Oh, I know you wouldn't abuse them, but they aren't a stack of blank
canvasses to be repainted in your image, either."

"But..."

"But
nothing, Peregrine.
They are high spirited and lively, and that's the way we love
them. Help them, support them, and if they are in true danger, rescue them, but
otherwise let them live their lives. I intend to at last live mine, and you, my
serious son, I highly suggest you live yours."

****

March 1815. London, England.

Cecilia hummed to herself as she let herself in through the narrow
door at the back of the elegant town house. Caleb Jefferies, Lord Haytor wasn't
expecting her, but this route was their way of seeing each other without the
eyes of the ton on them. She closed the door behind her and hung her cloak on a
convenient hook. As she smoothed her silks over her hips, a tremor of excitement
ran through her, sending a gush of liquid to coat her thighs. Every time she
thought of Caleb, of his hard male body next to her, and his cock erect and
ready to fill her, the hairs on her arms stood on end. The sensations she felt
as he fucked her were like nothing else, and she knew she would never get
enough of them.

Except…
A thought of
another hot male body flickered through her mind, to be firmly quashed. That
particular memory had no place in her present.

Her body was so hot, it was as if an inferno washed over her, and
Cecy fanned herself with her hands. She could only pray he would be at home. It
wasn't as if she could walk up to the front door and ask.

She ran up the stairs and opened the door at the top. With
hindsight the noises she heard from within should have warned her.

The sighs and moans made her quim contract. The sight made
her
moan and take a step back. Surely
she wasn't excited? Her body told her otherwise. Her heart beat so fast and
loud it was a wonder the two men she regarded didn't hear it. However the fact
each had their cock thrust in the others mouth and their eyes closed probably
rendered her invisible and unheard.

Her lover was busy as his hands touched and caressed the body of
the man he fucked. The other man, whose face she couldn't see, grabbed Caleb's
arse and his finger circled Caleb's anus and pushed inside. That simple act had
her lifting her skirt to touch her quim, to put one finger inside herself and
feel her heat and wetness.

Cecy leaned against the walls, unable to take her eyes of the
erotic scene in front of her. Her skin was clammy, and her fingers tingled as
she mimicked the actions of the men she watched. It was obvious their climaxes
were approaching as their mouths moved ever faster. Caleb pinched the hard tight
nipples of his partner, and the action sent a sharp shard of desire through
Cecy. It ran from
her own
nipples to her cunt and her
body sang. She shut her eyes, not to close out the sight of the men but to
envisage how it would feel if it was her they pleasured.

As her climax built, pictures filled her mind. Of the soft pink
bloom on the skin of the men, of the rosy arse cheeks of Caleb's companion, of
how it would feel to have her arse touched and filled.
Of
perhaps both men pleasuring her.
That was enough. Where had that idea
come from? More to the point why, when it scared her and was taboo, did it
excite her so? With no care to her surroundings Cecy came with a sob and shook
with the intensity of her climax. She trembled as she slid down the wall, her fingers
still inside her channel, and leaned forward over her legs. Her hand slipped
out of her and rested on her thigh and her juice coated digits traced wet
circles on her flesh. Cecy's breath was uneven and there was a ringing in her
ears.

Two pairs of male hands took hold of her and moved her, until she
felt a soft mattress cushion her body. The one she thought hazily the men had
so recently occupied. The one she thought wryly she usually occupied.

"Drink this." Her head was lifted and cool glass touched
her lips. Cecy sipped the water, and opened her eyes. Two men, both she
realized whom she knew, in more than a casual way were looking at her with
concern. Not so concerned she noticed that cocks so recently sated were once
more growing hard. Cecy averted her eyes; it was not the time to grow dry
mouthed at such an arousing sight.

"Ah." What could she say? "I had no idea you knew
each other."

"In every way possible."
Caleb confirmed
,
his gaze fixed firmly on her face. "And you are
excited by us, by what we are, and what we do." It was not a question.

Cecy looked from her present lover to her past
one, and wondered…did Caleb know her history with Philippe, Le Compte De Caen?
She had no chance to ask, before the men sat beside her, one on each side. They
were she noticed, still naked.
Unselfconscious in their
nudity, aroused, and beautiful.
She ached to touch.

Cecy ran her tongue over suddenly dry lips and her throat
contracted. She didn't trust herself to talk without her voice cracking.

"Drink it all." Since when had Caleb sounded so
dictatorial? Always he had been the gentleman, never demanding, always asking,
and soothing her fears. She did as she was bidden and handed the empty glass to
him.

"Thank you." Her voice was husky.

Caleb put the glass onto a side table.

"So did we shock you? Scare you? Excite you and make you wish
to participate, to feel us both fucking you as well as each other?"

Am I to be honest?
She nodded.

"All of it?" Caleb persisted. "Will you let us fill
you? You have over the years enjoyed both of us, and us you."

So he does know of my
couplings with Philippe, and it seems it does not faze him. That is a relief.
Perhaps I can decide if I am able to go further.

Before she had a chance to voice her thoughts, Caleb spoke.
"Now can we become three? What do you know of ménages Cecy? Is it now time
for you to discover all there is to know about such beautiful acts?"

Those few words conjured up such images that once more her juices
gathered, and her quim quivered, asking for attention. With
a
ruthlessness
she didn't know she possessed, Cecy ignored the sensations
bombarding her and turned her attention back to the men who sat next to her.
They were so close that their heat mixed with hers, and she felt like the
center of a volcano ready to erupt.

Cecy cleared her throat.

"Maybe it is time, I have not decided. It is a big decision.
For all I care little for the ton, what you ask frightens me.
For your safety as a couple and for all our lives if we become a
ménage.
I could not bear to lose you once we became lovers together, and
in our world if we were discovered, I couldn't comprehend the outcome."
She swallowed. Her mouth was dry and stabs of fear hit her body like hailstones
on the hard earth. Why did something so unnatural appeal to her so? "You said
there was more. What is the more?" Why was her heart thudding like a gong
on a bell, and pins and needles attacking her skin?

The men glanced at each other, and Philippe spoke for the first
time.

"I need to see the pleasure you will get from pain."

***

September 1815. London, England.

After her disastrous evening at Almacks, Lady Cecilia Gretton was
desperate for an evening of uncomplicated fun without the censure of the ton
and the eyes of the tabbies on her.

It wasn't Cecy thought, that the Earl of Beverstoke hadn't
deserved the response she had given to his outrageous suggestion. However she
knew it was the way she had delivered it. To slap someone as influential as him
was unheard of. To do so at Almacks was social suicide. Only because Princess Esterhazy,
one of the patrons of the club had witnessed the whole thing had it been
glossed over to a certain extent. If the good lady in question had arrived even
a few seconds later a completely different slant could have been put up on the
scene, and Cecy's sullied reputation would never recover.

Nevertheless, her elder brother Peregrine had been censorious in
the extreme, and his pontifications had been more than any young lady could
bear. Sometimes Cecy thought he believed he was the guardian of all their
morals.

When Augusta—Gussie—Lady Gravesend—nee Brodcastle—a long held
friend, with whom she had shared a room, and scrapes at Miss Jackson's School
for young ladies had told her of the masquerade she and her husband were
holding, Cecy knew she would attend. An evening of anonymous gaiety would be a
perfect antidote to the frowns and disapproving stares she had seen so much of
lately. To that end, she'd arranged for Betsy, her maid to purchase her a
golden domino and an elaborate mask to wear.

The ball was not quite the place for a young lady of the ton to
attend unescorted. However Cecy reasoned at almost five-and-twenty she was no
longer in the first flush of youth, and chose to disregard the fact that her
brother would lose what little patience he still had with her if he discovered
her whereabouts. She needed this one night of escape.

However, she was not as obvious as most ladies she saw, and she
kept her domino tight around her. As she stood near the edge of the ballroom
and watched the antics, which were becoming increasingly risqué, Cecy was
conscious of two tall and impeccably dressed gentlemen approaching. Once they
reached her, one stood on each side of her. They were so close she could smell
their colognes, which were light, and fresh, and also the indefinable scent of
man. Both were pleasant, and neither alarmed her.

"You know we've been waiting for you, love." The taller
of the two men spoke in a soft voice, as he removed her glass and handed it to
his companion. His French accent was hardly noticeable. "We want you, both
of us, together." As he spoke Cecy realized they had maneuvered her out of
the room, and into an antechamber. She reasoned she must have wanted to go with
them, or her mind would have registered their movements.

"You do?"
How stupid,
you know this, have they not told you on each occasion you have met them?

"Ah Cecy, you know this, don't dissemble." The other man
spoke, and leaned into her. She felt the telltale bulge in his immaculate knee
breeches stir and press against her and willed her body not to tremble. It was
a long time since she had enjoyed the benefits of a willing cock ready to
pleasure her.

"We told you months ago, we'll tell you now. We come as a
package, both of us." He bent his head and kissed her. Her moth opened to
let his tongue enter and mesh with her own. Cecy moaned; she had missed feeling
him. Caleb, her lover and she had thought, the man she would wed.

Behind her she felt her skirts lifted and cool air wafted over her
heated skin. The other man—her ex-lover—had lifted her skirts and was grinding
his cloth-covered prick against her.

He nipped the nape of her neck, then licked and laved the spot as
all the while Caleb's tongue mimicked the act of possession she yearned for.

"Well," Philippe spoke softly in her ear. "Do you
give in? Let us take you as you want?
As we want?"

His words were the cold water she needed, and she pulled
away.
 
How could she have forgotten?
"Sadly we don't want the same things." She pressed her fingers
together, and welcomed the sting as her nails caught the soft skin. It reminded
her of what she would and wouldn't accept. "I want you both, that is true
but I don't want the rest. I cannot accept pain in any guise." Cecy pulled
back and moved toward the ballroom.

The tempo and raucousness had increased in the short time they'd
been absent. She turned to ask Caleb to escort her to the door, when he caught
her in his arms and ran his hands over the top of her breasts, one finger
slipping below the lace edging as he whispered in her ear.

"Laugh at me dammit, act the part. Pretend you want
me,
let us melt into the crowd. I see your brother."

"Which?" She tried to turn and look around the room.
Caleb held her fast and pushed her head into his neck. A tiny pulse jerked
under cheek.

"Be still, He's moving closer."

Fear ran up her spine. She laughed obediently, and fluttered her
fan. The last thing she wanted was to be caught out. Peregrine her eldest
brother was not happy with her as it was.