Their Wicked Ways (22 page)

“The view from the deck must
have been better than I’d thought,” Nick drawled, startling a squeak of
surprise out of Bronte.  He was sitting in the captain’s chair, his shirt open,
his bare feet crossed on the top of the desk.  She put a hand over her wildly
fluttering heart, staring at him in confusion.  “Nick!” she gasped, stunned.

“It’ll be a while before she
sees England again.  I was half tempted to go up for a last look myself,” Darcy
said.

Turning, Bronte saw that
Darcy, in a similar state of dishabille, was propped against the bulkhead, his
long legs stretched out before him on the wide bed that took up much of the
room.

“Darcy?”

He grinned, sliding off the
bunk and starting toward her.

“You didn’t really think we
were going to let you slip through our fingers again, did you?” Nick drawled,
dropping his feet to the floor and closing in on her from the other direction.

“I don’t understand,” Bronte
managed to get out as they stopped on either side of her.

Nick placed a finger beneath
her chin.  Tipping her face up, he smiled down at her.  “You are a very
difficult woman, Bronte, but the only woman in this world for me.  If you won’t
choose, you’ll have to take us both.”

Bronte’s eyes widened.  She
glanced from Nick to Darcy and back again.  “But you said that I had to choose
between you.”

“I was hoping you would,
darlin’, but you didn’t.”

“So … you’re both--how did
you get here before me?” she asked suddenly.

Nick caught her arms and
pulled her toward him.  She looked up at him in surprise, and then over her
shoulder as she felt a tug at the lacings of her dress.  Darcy, in the process
of unlacing her gown, winked at her.

Bronte’s stomach curled into
a heated knot of anticipation.  Her mouth went dry.

She looked at Nick again. He
was smiling faintly.  “I paid your servants.  You’ll have to tell me what the
coachman did to get you here precisely at the specified time.  I only suggested
that he use his imagination.”

Bronte frowned, struggling
with the comments.  “You
bribed
my servants?  How? When?”

His brows drew together
thoughtfully.  “Let me see … two months ago?”

He was looking at Darcy
questioningly and Bronte glanced at Darcy.  “Sounds about right.  Maybe two and
half.  It was right after the Sheffield’s shindig.”

“But … you’re not serious?”

Nick’s dark brows rose.  “Why
would you think I am not perfectly serious?”

“But … that was right after …
that was ….  I had scarcely even arrived in London then.”

“But,” Nick said pensively,
“you were thoughtful enough to tell Darcy your plans and you’d already reminded
us of how quickly you could retreat if things seemed to be getting out hand.” 
He shrugged. “We thought it best to hedge our bets,” he added, frowning in
concentration as he pulled her gown from her shoulders.  “Up or down?”

“What?”

“The gown.  You remove it
over the head?  Or push it down?”

“Up,” Bronte responded
instinctively.

He caught hold of the skirt,
separated it from the underskirt, and tugged it off over her head.  It caught
on her bonnet.  He disentangled the dress from the bonnet and tossed it aside. 
“This is a bit more complicated than I’d anticipated.  We shall have to
practice.  Remember, Darcy.  Bonnet first.”

A smile tugged at the corners
of her mouth.  Bronte bit her lip.

Responsive amusement gleamed
in his eyes.  “We thought it best not to bring the maid, but don’t concern
yourself.  We’ll get the hang of it.”

Bronte frowned, trying to
pick up the thread of the conversation of before as Nick looked her over and
found the ties of her underskirts, loosening the ties and allowing them to drop
around her ankles.  “How did you know what ship I’d be sailing on?  I didn’t
even know that myself until I had booked passage.”

“It’s our ship,” Darcy said
absently.

Bronte glanced at him.  He
was frowning in concentration as he worked at the lacings of her corset. 
“Our?”

“One of mine and Nick’s.  We
have four now.”

Bronte was stunned.  “Four? 
But, still, how could you know I would book passage on one of yours?”

Nick stroked her cheek
affectionately, his eyes gleaming with mirth.  “We didn’t have to, sweetheart. 
I paid your coachman to bring you to
this
ship.”

“Oh.”  She looked down as
Darcy tugged her corset down her hips, taking her pantaloons with it, and
discovered that she was down to shoes, stockings and chemise.

Nick caught the bottom of the
chemise and tugged it up.  She lifted her arms, allowing him to pull it over
her head.  She felt the heat of Darcy’s body as he moved closer, skating his hands
down her back to her buttocks and a shiver of sensation went through her.

Nick stepped closer, grasping
a breast in each hand and kneading them.  Leaning down, he plucked at first one
nipple and then the other, until they were both standing rigidly erect.  He
covered the engorged peaks one at the time, sucking on them in an unhurried
fashion that made her knees go weak, made her breath catch in her throat.

Behind her, she felt Darcy’s
faintly abrasive cheeks as he nuzzled his face over her buttocks, kneading them
as Nick had her breasts, placing nibbling kisses over the tender surfaces.

After a moment, they ceased
to tease her, led her to the bed and urged her to sit.  Kneeling, each of them
took one foot and lifted it to remove the shoe.  Bronte placed her hands behind
her, propping herself on her arms, watching them as they massaged her feet
briefly and their gazes, almost as one, moved along her legs to the apex of her
thighs.  Her belly clenched.  After a long moment, Nick reached for a garter and
removed it.  Darcy slid his hand down her leg to her mound, carefully smoothing
the damp tangle of curls back, parting her nether lips.

She gasped as she felt his
fingers slip in the moisture along her cleft, her eyes slid closed, but he
removed his hand after only a moment.  Pulling her leg wider, he removed the
other garter and began rolling the stocking down as Nick removed her other
stocking from her foot, massaged it briefly, and leaned down to suck her toes. 
Her belly clenched, jumped with delighted shock.

After a moment, he lowered
her leg and stood up, shrugging out of his shirt. When Darcy released her other
leg and stood, she scooted back on the bed, watching them as they undressed,
marveling at how absolutely magnificent their bodies were.

When Nick had stepped out of
his breeches, he climbed onto the bed beside her, skating a hand over her body
from the thatch of curls that covered her mound to her breasts.  Leaning down,
he covered the tip of one breast with his mouth, massaging her other breast and
teasing the nipple with his fingers.

Bronte uttered a sound of
pleasure as the heat of his mouth covered the achingly sensitive bud.  She felt
Darcy’s hands on her thighs.  Pushing them apart, he worked a trail of love
bites along the inside of one thigh, nuzzled his face against her mound and
then parted her nether lips with one hand and dragged his tongue along her
cleft to her clit.  She lost her breath as his tongue moved over her it
teasingly, building the moisture that seeped from her lips until she could feel
it slip in a tickling trail down her cleft to her buttocks.

Wrapping one arm around Nick,
she reached blindly for Darcy, stroking his shoulder as he stroked her clit
with his tongue, sucked it, sending keen jolts of pleasure through her to join
the fiery waves of pleasure coursing through her at Nick’s attentive caresses. 
Within moments, she felt her body racing toward climax.  She fought it, trying
to hold on to the pleasurable sensations a little longer.

She found she could not hold
it at bay.  The muscles along her passage began to quake and spasm, spreading a
tide of hot ecstasy through her body and dragging cries of release from her. 
She went perfectly limp when the echoes began to die away, hardly even aware of
Darcy as he moved up the bed to lie beside her.

She tasted herself on his
lips as he kissed her, felt her belly tighten in response, already warming,
wanting more.

He released her after a
moment, moving down her body to her breasts and teasing them as Nick had.  She
roused herself when Nick leaned down to kiss her, realizing that she’d taken
pleasure but not given it, kissing him back even as she reached down and began
to caress Darcy with her hands.

When Darcy moved away, she
broke the kiss and turned to him.  Coming up on her hands and knees, she kissed
his throat, dragging a trail of kisses downward, over his male breasts, down
his belly, until she reached his cock.  Grasping it, she studied it a moment
and placed her mouth over the rounded tip, tasting him experimentally.  He
jerked, tensed, groaned as she sucked the head and, realizing that it gave him
as much pleasure as it did her, she took him into her mouth.

Nick’s hand skated down her
back and over her buttocks.  He tugged at her legs, urging her to part them and
she shifted to accommodate him.  Her belly tightened, spasmed with pleasure as
his mouth covered her nether lips and he began to tease her, plunging his
tongue into her passage in a curling, twisting rhythm that made her pulse pound
madly.

Renewed desire filled her
like flash fire and, as it rapidly escalated, she caressed Darcy’s cock with
more hunger, sucking on him harder, thrusting his cock in and out of her mouth
more quickly until he began to move restlessly beneath her, clutching and
releasing her head, as if he couldn’t decide whether to push her away or hold
her tightly to him.

The tease of Nick’s mouth and
tongue brought her body rapidly to the crest once more.  Still, her culmination
caught her unaware.  She gasped, groaned around Darcy’s cock even as she thrust
her hips back toward Nick, arching her back in entreaty.

Before the last echoes had
died, Nick positioned himself behind her, caught her hips and thrust inside,
burying himself deeply in her wetness.  She hesitated in her ministrations. 
Catching the rhythm he set as he pumped into her, she began to move Darcy’s
cock in and out of her mouth in the same rhythm.

Darcy tensed suddenly,
letting out a harsh gasp, gripping her head and trying to push her away. 
Bronte was beyond anything by that point, however, but focusing upon her own
gathering passions as her body instantly began to climb toward culmination
again.

Mindless with her own
impending release, she held him tightly in her mouth, resisting his efforts to
push her away, sucking him harder, undulating her tongue against him faster and
faster.  Abruptly, his cock jerked in her mouth and his hot seed shot down her
throat.  It surprised her, but before she could decide whether to release him
or not, her body seized in a hard climax.

She groaned, sucking him
harder until his cock ceased to spasm.  Nick uttered a harsh growl, caught her
hips as she released her hold on Darcy at last and slammed into her in quick,
hard thrusts as he found his own surcease.

Weak in the aftermath, the
three of them collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs on the bed, gasping for
breath.

“That was one of the most
wonderfully decadent experiences I’ve ever had in my life,” Bronte murmured
finally, skating a hand down the chests on either side of her and toying with
the nest of hair that surrounded their cocks.

Nick rolled on his side,
facing her.  “I think, if we put our minds to it, we can probably come up with
something equal, or surpassing it in wickedness.  What do you think, Darcy?”

“Don’t ask me to think right now,”
Darcy said with an effort.

Bronte chuckled and rolled
over to look at him.  “I did it right?” she asked tentatively.