When Love Comes Calling: Two Short Stories (6 page)

Sylvie was horrified at John’s words, at the utter shame she felt for having put Edmund in such an untenable position. Then Edmund charged without warning and she screamed. She scrambled to her feet as the two men tumbled out the door onto the terrace. When she ran out after them she saw Edmund jump to his feet and race at John, still struggling to regain his footing. Edmund grabbed the front of John’s shirt and punched him in the face, the impact spinning John’s head to the side. The coachman grabbed the lapels of Edmund’s jacket and threw him into the wall of the terrace, and the two men wrestled, brute strength against pure unadulterated rage. They rolled along the wall once, twice and then the wall abruptly ended at the stairs. Neither man was paying attention and their momentum carried them into the empty space before they fell and rolled down the stairs still grappling.

Sylvie screamed again as she watched Edmund hit the stairs, his descent rough and frightening on the stone steps. She heard the door of the solar burst open and turned to see Jernigan race into the room, two footmen behind him.

“Jernigan!” she cried. “Help him! Help Mr. James!”

She pointed to the green in the garden just as John landed a punch on Edmund’s jaw, sending him sprawling. John fell on Edmund, choking him, but Edmund grabbed his wrists and forced his hands back, bucking until John fell off.

“You can have the bloody, cold bitch,” John snarled, rolling to his feet gracelessly. “She weren’t much of a fuck anyway, Vicar.”

“You goddamned little guttersnipe,” Edmund growled, circling the wary coachman. “You’ll pay for that remark, and for everything else you’ve done to her.”

John grinned evilly. “Well I certainly wouldn’t pay for that fuck.”

Sylvie sobbed and retreated to the back wall of the terrace covering her face with her hand. Oh God, everyone could hear him. They knew!

“She never let you touch her,” Edmund snarled and Sylvie looked up in surprise, meeting Edmund’s eyes. He was lying for her. She’d never loved him more than at that moment.

“What?” John yelled. “Is that what she told you? She’s lying! I fucked her but good, in the carriage on the side of the road, like she weren’t no better than she ought to be. And she was bloody panting for it, I tell you.”

“You lie,” Edmund growled, his voice low and contemptuous. “Do you expect anyone to believe that Lady Bartlebyrne would let scum like you near her?”

John’s face contorted with rage. “You were just fucking her on the floor, you bloody lying pig!”

Before he could say any more Edmund tackled him. They went down and Edmund began to brutally hit the other man, who managed to block some of the punches and throw a few of his own.

“Jernigan,” a calm, deep voice said from the doorway, “fetch me a gun.”

Sylvie spun around to see her son Geoffrey standing in the door positively vibrating with rage.

“Mother, are you all right?” Geoffrey asked, sparing her a glance.

Sylvie cringed at the anger in his eyes. She nodded and he turned back to the brawl in the garden.

“Stay here,” Geoffrey ordered, “I don’t want you hurt.”

Sylvie could only watch as he marched down the steps.

The gun went off right behind Edmund and he spun around in shock. A young man stood there, the smoking pistol pointed into the air. The damned coachman took advantage of his inattention to throw him off, but before he could launch himself at Edmund again, the young man spoke.

“The next time I fire it will be at you, coachman. You are easily explained away.” His voice was clipped, but Edmund could hear the sincerity in it, and the bloodied young coachman froze.

“I was protecting your mum, your Lordship,” he whined. “This one over here were trying to have his way with her right there on the floor of the parlor.”

“You lying dog,” Edmund snarled, scrambling to his feet. He froze when the freshly loaded pistol turned in his direction.

“You would be harder to explain, Mr. James, but not impossible.”

“Geoffrey,” Sylvie said quietly, her voice pained. She’d rushed down to them after the gunshot. “Please. May we discuss this inside?”

John’s eyes turned calculating. “That’s right, Your Lordship. We wouldn’t want your mother’s reputation getting any more tarnished than it is, now would we?” He smiled with a smirk. “I’d be more than happy to discuss how I can make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“You are fired.” The young marquis’s voice was flat. “Collect your things and go.”

John’s eyes widened with shock. “Now don’t be hasty, sir—“

The Marquis of Bartlebyrne cut him off coldly. “Be grateful you leave here with your life and your belongings, cur.” He motioned imperiously to Jernigan. “Have two of the footmen escort him from the property.” He paused a moment. “Have them escort him out of Byrnham. He is not welcome there anymore, either.”

John lost all semblance of courtesy or respect. “That whore begged me for it!” he snarled, pointing at Sylvie. “And then that bloody vicar come along and took her right out from under me nose! He’s been crawling in between her sheets for weeks now, and all I got was one bloody fuck!”

Edmund didn’t care if he got shot for it—he dove for the coachman and punched him so hard his hand exploded with pain. “You goddamned bastard! You are speaking of my future wife!”

He heard the collective gasp of the crowd that had gathered.

“Now,” Lord Bartlebyrne said, his voice a low growl, “we take it inside.” He walked over and kicked the coachman where he lay on the ground moaning. “Get rid of this offal.” He turned furious eyes, the same soft blue as Sylvie’s, on Edmund. “Inside, Mr. James.” He turned and offered his arm to Sylvie, who looked frantic and scared and still lusciously rumpled from their fuck in the solar.

Edmund didn’t think—he just reacted. He walked quickly over to Sylvie and fell to his knees.

“As God as my witness, Sylvie, I love you. I love you more than I can say. Please marry me, my love.” She gasped and looked frantically between Edmund and her son. Edmund grabbed her hand. “I was nothing before you, Sylvie. If you cast me aside I will be less than nothing. I will be a shell of a man. My heart will remain with you, always, forever.” His frustration got the better of him, and he gestured angrily to the coachman being dragged away between two footmen, who were staring agog over their shoulders at the spectacle he was making of himself. He didn’t care. “That means nothing. His lies mean nothing. I don’t care about the scandal.” He kissed her hand fervently, noticing absently that he left some blood behind. He closed his eyes and held the back of her hand to his pounding forehead. “I need you, Sylvie. I care nothing about age or scandal, or what should be, or gossip.” He looked up into her eyes, which were swimming with tears. “I just care about you, about us. You are brave and beautiful and brilliant, and I need you, Sylvie. Please say you’ll take me. Marry me, Sylvie.”

The young marquis snorted inelegantly. “Well, it’s about bloody damn time someone noticed. I was beginning to think all the men around here were stupid and blind.”

E
dmund gasped
and arched his back, taking the jade dildo deep into his luscious, firm arse. Sylvie couldn’t resist leaning down and gently nipping one taut cheek. He was so wonderful, so sensual and desirable, and hers. She couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to ask him to do this. She’d wanted to do it forever, and tonight was supposed to be about her, about her pleasure. This was immensely pleasurable.

Suddenly Donald began to cry in the nursery next door.

“Don’t you dare,” Edmund growled, pushing backward until he bumped her hand still holding the dildo deep inside him.

“But…”

“This is why we employ a nurse.” Edmund’s voice was clipped, the strain of their interrupted games showing.

“But you know Jernigan hates when he fusses at night.” Sylvie worked hard to keep the amusement out of her voice. She knew the baby was fine. He’d probably just kicked his blanket off, and nurse could handle that.

“Then let bloody damn Jernigan go in there,” Edmund growled, and Sylvie felt the muscles of his buttocks clench tightly on the dildo beneath the hand she had laid on one cheek.

Sylvie glided the dildo out through those tightly clenched muscles and Edmund groaned in despair. Then she plunged it back into him and he cried out. “I have no intention of leaving you wanting,” Sylvie purred as she leaned over his curved back and licked a path up the bumps of his spine.

Edmund shivered. “Christ, Sylvie.” He was breathless with desire and Sylvie felt a triumphant thrill at her ability to still do that to him. They had been married for well over a year already. Even through her pregnancy, which had been very hard, he’d been faithful and loving and attentive. They had been reduced to pleasuring one another with hands and mouths for nearly all of their marriage. The doctor had advised them not to have sex after a frightening incident in which they thought she’d lost the baby. The delivery had been so hard that, again, the doctor had advised they wait. Donald was four months old. Sylvie felt fit, and the doctor agreed.

Sylvie had thought that Edmund would throw her to the floor again and take her wherever they were standing as soon as she gave him the news. He’d surprised her by insisting they wait another day, and he’d planned a night of scandalous delights for her. They had had an intimate dinner for two in their suite, all Sylvie’s favorites, and then licked melted chocolate off various body parts for desert. It was heaven. But when Edmund had asked her what she most wanted, it was this. He’d been surprised, but enthusiastic, as he was with most things concerning sex. She knew he used to have sex with men, he’d told her, and she was worried that he missed that aspect of his past life.

He was on his knees on their big bed, his head and shoulders pressed into the sheets, his ass high in the air for her. She was pressed up against him, her hips right up behind him, moving with him. She pulled her hips back as she pulled the dildo back, and then thrust forward with both hips and dildo. It was extraordinarily erotic, almost like actually fucking him.

Edmund moaned and Sylvie laughed throatily, rubbing her breasts along his lower back. She watched the fine hairs on his arms rise with his growing arousal. “Do you like this, Edmund?” she whispered against his back between kisses.

“God yes, Sylvie,” he moaned. “You are amazingly adept at fucking a man for someone who’s never done it before.” He wriggled his behind a little. “A little to the left, love. God! Yes, that’s good.” He shuddered with pleasure as she apparently hit the spot he wanted.

“Do you like it as much as…as fucking a man?” she asked quietly. She rushed on, afraid of his answer. “I mean, I know you enjoyed that before, and I…I don’t want you to feel as if you’ve given up something…like that, for me.”

Edmund froze in place, his breathing ragged. “Is that what this is about?” he rasped. “Is that why you wanted to fuck me with the dildo tonight?” He started to pull away, groaning as the dildo slid from him. Sylvie grabbed his hip to stop him, pressing it back in deep and he shuddered, thrusting back against her involuntarily.

“No, darling, Edmund stop,” she entreated him softly. “That isn’t why, not really. I just…I just wanted to do it. I wanted to see you like this, I wanted to give you this pleasure, and watch you take it, as you have me.”

Edmund fucked up and back, the dildo gliding in and out as he breathed deeply, a small sound of pleasure escaping from deep in his throat.

“Tell me,” Sylvie whispered as she snuggled up to him again and began to fuck him with hips and dildo. “Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s better, Sylvie,” he whispered brokenly, “better than fucking a man, because you’re doing it. I’d rather have this dildo with your hand guiding it than any cock, I don’t care whose.”

“Edmund,” Sylvie breathed, overcome with tenderness at his confession. “I love doing this to you. I’ve dreamt about it, about watching you, listening to you, pleasuring you in such a decadent fashion.” She leaned over and licked a patch on his lower back that was glistening with sweat. It was salty and she savored the taste of him. She glided the dildo in and out, varying the depth and speed of her thrusts, keeping Edmund on the cusp of his release, toying with him, and he moaned with pleasure. The muscles of his back and buttocks quivered with tension as he anticipated each new penetration.

Sylvie basked in her control over him, knowing his pleasure waited on her whim. It was a heady experience, and one she planned to enjoy often now that they’d crossed this line together. Never before she met Edmund could Sylvie have imagined doing the things she and he did. Every time he touched her she craved the basest desires, and he fulfilled them gladly. She realized that she had been an empty vessel waiting to be filled, and Edmund had come and poured passion and desire into her until she overflowed.

Suddenly Edmund pulled away roughly, the dildo sliding out of him. He groaned as it popped free, and Sylvie was mesmerized by his glistening entrance, crying out for her to fill it again. She reached for him, but Edmund stopped her.

“No, Sylvie. We are going to fuck each other now. I need you. I need my cock in your sweet cunny when I come. It’s been so long, love.”

Edmund watched Sylvie move as if in a trance, lying down on the bed and spreading her legs for him. She still held the dildo, shining with the oil they’d applied, and a shiver chased up his spine. It had felt so good to have her fuck him like that. Never had it felt that good before. Knowing his sweet Sylvie was wielding the instrument of his pleasure was so arousing that when she’d first penetrated him he’d almost come on the spot. Listening to her moans of pleasure as she humped against his buttocks with each thrust had pushed him closer to the edge than he’d ever been without falling off. Only sheer willpower had let him last this long.

He moved between her legs and reached down, spreading the lips of her sex delicately with his thumbs. She was wet and hot, swollen with need, her ruffled inner lips red with arousal. She was as close as he from fucking him. He closed his eyes against the surge of lust that went through him. On their next trip to London he was buying a two-sided dildo, so Sylvie could fuck herself and him at the same time. God, she was going to love it. He smiled at her wolfishly.

“Was there ever a man as lucky as I, wife? To have a woman who nearly comes from fucking him in the arse?”

Sylvie’s face, flushed with passion, got redder as she blushed. “I liked it,” she said softly, the understatement making Edmund laugh outright.

He nodded, still chuckling. “Yes, I noticed.”

Sylvie smiled shyly at him and opened her arms, beckoning him. He lowered himself onto her, their hips meeting first, his cock stretched up along her wet slit, her juices coating him in seconds. He closed his eyes with a gasp. It felt so bloody good. “Sylvie,” he moaned, unsure if she was ready for him. After so many months of abstinence, he didn’t want to hurt her.

“Fuck me, Edmund,” she whispered, surging against him, “now.”

He needed no further encouragement. He raised his hips and slipped a hand between them to position his cock, and then he slid smoothly inside her. It was clear immediately that she was tight, as tight as the first time he’d fucked her on the floor of her solar. He had to fight for every inch he pushed inside her, and Sylvie arched her back and moaned as he did it.

“Yes, Edmund, yes, darling,” she panted, “more. Give it all to me.”

Her words sent a fire through his blood and he rammed home, hilting his cock, snug in her smoldering heat and drowning wetness. She felt so amazing, gloving every inch of his thick, hard cock like wet silk. Sylvie cried out softly as he seated himself deep within her with three or four short, hard strokes, until his balls rested against her. He could barely draw breath, the tightness of her strangling him.

“Fuck, Sylvie, fuck,” he moaned, unable to put a coherent thought together.

Sylvie laughed breathlessly, her hands coming up to rest on his waist. She still held the dildo, its slippery length against him, and he knew what he wanted.

“Fuck me again, Sylvie,” he panted, pulling out and sliding forcefully back into her depths with a shudder that she matched. “Fuck me while I fuck you.” He pulled his knees up a little, clasping an arm around her waist and raising her with him. She reached down and blindly ran the dildo down his crack, trying to find his entrance. Edmund groaned. “Down a little more, just a little.” Then she hit the mark and thrust it home, the burn of the dildo’s quick, hard penetration making Edmund see stars.

He became aware again as Sylvie let out a strangled scream. He was fucking her hard and deep, his cock pistoning in and out as she just held on, held the dildo inside him and let his own motions move it in and out. Her legs were wrapped around his thighs, and his arse was clenching the dildo tight, each thrust of his hips driving the jade in, and then driving his cock into Sylvie. It was one of the most amazing rides he’d ever had.

“Christ yes, Sylvie,” he panted, fucking her and the dildo ruthlessly. “God, it feels so good, don’t let go, Sylvie, don’t let go.” He wasn’t sure if he meant of him or the dildo, and didn’t care. Neither one was acceptable right at the moment.

Sylvie moaned and he looked down to see her eyes closed as she bit her lip to keep her screams inside, pushing her sweet cunt against him, rubbing her clitoris on him with each thrust. God, she could fuck. He felt his balls pull up. No! It was too soon, too soon! But even as he despaired he rode the wave of anticipation and pleasure, his skin quivering with tension, every muscle taut with his impending orgasm.

“I’ve got to come, Sylvie, God,” he gasped, and Sylvie thrust the dildo deep in his ass and his world exploded around him. He felt the intoxicating burn of his semen as it raced up and out of his cock into Sylvie’s waiting, shivering depths and she froze for a moment and then flew apart in his arms, crying his name. They thrust against one another desperately, each holding the other deep, Edmund’s cock jerking inside her at the same time his hole clenched tight on the dildo and the dual sensations rocked him to his core. He cried her name, hung his head as the waves of pleasure rode him. Sylvie gasped and trembled beneath him, holding him tightly, her hand still pressing the dildo deep, not forgetting his pleasure in the maelstrom of her own.

When it was over, when he could think and breathe again, he looked down at Sylvie. She was panting, her cheeks flushed a deep, rosy pink, her eyes sparkling as she grinned at him. “Am I the only one seeing stars?” she asked with breathless wonder. Edmund started to laugh, but it turned into a groan as Sylvie pulled the dildo out of his thoroughly fucked arse. She started to laugh until he did the same to her, pulling his cock out of her well-pleasured cunt.

They groaned together as Edmund fell to the bed beside Sylvie. He reached a trembling hand out and took the dildo, tossing it to the end of the bed. They’d deal with that later. He didn’t think he could walk right now—perhaps not for a week, actually. Sylvie rolled over and snuggled up to him, her head on his shoulder and an arm and a leg draped possessively over him.

“Oh, Edmund,” she sighed, “I’m so glad I found you.”

Edmund looked down at her and raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Really? Well, Madame James, it certainly took you long enough to realize it.”

Sylvie just smiled dreamily and rubbed a hand over his chest, grazing his nipples, still very sensitive, as she smoothed round and round. Edmund arched his neck, the pleasure almost painful. But then, that’s how he liked it sometimes. With a bottom aching from a good fuck, and a cock still leaking, he was a man well-contented.

Sylvie spoke softly, and he instinctively tightened his hold on her. “I was waiting, Edmund, my whole life for you, but when you showed up, you weren’t what I’d been waiting for.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head tenderly, her unbound hair soft against his lips. “What? You weren’t waiting for a lascivious, charming vicar? Why ever not?”

Sylvie’s laugh was a soft breath against his chest, making him shiver.

Edmund turned on his side so Sylvie’s head rested on his arm, her face turned up to his. He leaned down and kissed her, at first tenderly, but as usual with Sylvie, the kiss turned hot and hungry within moments. He would never tire of the taste of her, sweet and dangerously alluring, and all Sylvie. He hummed deep in his chest in approval and felt Sylvie smile against his lips as her tongue gave his a last flick and she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, letting go with a pop.

Edmund rested his forehead against hers, his breathing once again shallow. “What did you mean, my love, that I wasn’t what you were waiting for?”

Sylvie pressed her entire length against him, wriggling her hips until they were tucked into his as her lips tucked into the curve of his neck. “I thought that when I married again, it would be to an older gentleman. One who was kind and settled in his ways, and my life would go on much as it had before. And then I would die.”

“What?” Edmund exclaimed, pulling his head back to stare at Sylvie in astonishment.