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.
3
“Mistress!”
Emiline was stopped by Justine’s breathless, distressed squeal as soon as she entered the house. Hands in her apron, the lady’s maid who had been on Bougainvilla since Emiline’s childhood seemed quite agitated. Her eyes were unnaturally wide, as was her mouth.
With a sad smile, Emiline remembered when she had last seen Justine like this. It was when one of the downstairs maids had broken several saucers of her mother’s most precious china.
Emiline cut the maid off with a simple, weary shake
