Her Noble Lords (11 page)

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Authors: Ashe Barker

BOOK: Her Noble Lords
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Sir Ralf lets out a low hiss but does not open his eyes. A slight smile plays across his mouth but that is the extent of his reaction. I resolve to do better.

I tighten my grip and slide my hand up, toward the wide, flaring head. Ralf lifts his hips a little, enough to raise his cock above the surface of the water. I see droplets on the smooth head but I am uncertain if they are from his bath, or if they come from within, from the slit which I now perceive at the tip.

“Rub your thumb across the top, little maid.” The soft tone at my ear startles me. I had not heard Piers move from the bed and my attention has been fixed on Ralf so I was not watching the other man in the chamber. He is behind me now, offering encouragement.

If the situation is bizarre, I choose to ignore that fact. In any case, it does not seem so. It feels quite natural to be here, with both brothers, pleasuring one whilst the other looks on.

“Should I use both my hands?” I whisper the question, hoping not to sound too naive, too innocent.

“That would be good. Grip hard at the bottom of his shaft and use your other hand to caress the head. Yes, like that.”

I follow Piers’ guidance, swirling my thumb around in the fluid gathering at the tip of Ralf’s erection. He opens his eyes to regard first me, then his brother.

“My thanks. Your assistance is appreciated.”

Piers gives a low chuckle. “You are most welcome. I trust you would do the same for me?”

They exchange another look. Something has passed between them, though I cannot decipher it.

He murmurs his response. “I would, naturally, should Linnet desire that.”

I twist my head to look over my shoulder at Piers, then back to Ralf. “I do not understand…”

“Do not worry, little maid. ‘Twill be all right.” Piers cups my cheek in his hand and brushes his lips across mine. “Now, you have work to do here, do you not?”

Perplexed, I return to my task. Under Piers’ expert guidance, I draw my fist up and down the wide shaft, intrigued by the satin delicacy of the skin and the unyielding solidity beneath. If anything, Ralf’s cock swells and hardens in my hands, twitching as I increase the vigour of my movements.

“Leave the head for a moment, reach lower to cup his balls.”

“Like this?” I do as instructed and Ralf lets out a groan.

“Aye,” chuckles Piers. “I reckon exactly like that. Squeeze them in your hand, feel his balls moving.”

I do so and Ralf opens his eyes. “Wench, you take instruction as well as you take a switching. A rare treasure.”

“Thank you, sir. I think.”

Piers moves in closer behind me. He is looking over my shoulder, watching my efforts closely. He trails his fingertips across my throat, displacing the neckline of my borrowed gown. “This is a fine garment, little maid. It would be a pity to get it wet.”

“Sir?”

“May I?” He loosens the clasp at my shoulder to release the front of the dress. It gaps forward, revealing the upper swell of my breasts should he look closely. I have no doubt he will. They both will.

I turn my head to look up at him. He smiles at me, drops another quick kiss on my lips, than slips his hand inside the bodice of my loosened gown.

It is my turn to moan as he caresses my breast, then takes my nipple between his fingers. He squeezes it, tugs at the pebbling nub until I hiss, though whether with pleasure or pain I could not say. He lowers his face to mine again.

“You have stopped concentrating on your task, little maid. You would not wish me to punish you again, surely?”

His words should terrify me. I have sufficient experience of his discipline to fear it. But I am not scared, far from it. My quim clenches, moisture of my own gathering between my legs. I shift on my knees, seeking a comfortable position, yet finding none.

“Ah, sweet wench, such strange feelings, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper. “I am not sure…”

“You will be, I promise. But for now, my brother grows impatient.”

My hands are still on Ralf, still gripping his rod and cupping his heavy balls but I have been distracted by the powerful sensations surging through me at Piers’ unexpected touch. I renew my efforts as Piers continues to offer his gentle instructions.

As he does so, he strokes my breasts, bringing both nipples to swollen, throbbing hardness. My quim is wet, my inner channel spasming as I yearn for something more, something delightful and wicked and forbidden. Something I can but dimly imagine.

“Faster, little one. Almost there.” Piers urges me on as Ralf groans and thrusts his hips upwards. I am filled with a sense of power and it is heady, indeed, to observe the effect I have on this man. On both these men. Piers buries his face in my neck, nibbling at my flesh as he circles my nipples with his skilled fingers. He is no longer hurting me, though I wish he would. I yearn for the intensity of the sensation, the sweet bite of his touch.

“Please, sir, I…”

“Soon, love. Do not stop. Harder now.”

I obey and with a sudden jolt and a muttered oath, Ralf’s balls contract in my fingers and a long white ribbon of his seed spurts across the back of my hand. It is the first time I have witnessed such an event. It startles me, the heat of the fluid a surprise, too, though perhaps it should not be.

“Keep going. Just a few more strokes but slower now.” Piers’ breath is warm on my cheek as he murmurs his final instructions. I relax my grip but keep the strokes long and even as several more spurts of semen erupt from Ralf’s cock. His features are contorted in apparent pain, though even in my naivety, I know better.

At last he relaxes. I look to Piers for confirmation that all is well. He smiles at me. “Good girl. You can let go now and you may wash your hands if you wish.”

I glance at Ralf, who winks at me. I giggle as I swill the pearly semen from my fingers in the bathwater. It is as much a nervous reaction as genuine amusement.

Piers is still cupping my breast in his palm. He squeezes to gain my attention. “Less levity, little maid. You still have work to do.”

I stiffen and his touch gentles once more. “Do I?”

“Aye. You will attend my bath now, if you please.”

“Oh?” I look to Ralf for confirmation. He is rising from the tub.

“Pass me a towel, Linnet. Then you may assist Piers in disrobing.”

Ah, I see. I find I can summon no real objection to this curious turn of events. Piers releases my breast and withdraws his hand so I am able to get to my feet and find a towel from among the linens stored in the chest. I return and hold it out to Ralf. “Should I perform the same services for your brother, my lord?”

He takes the towel and wraps it around his lower body. “Do you wish to?”

“I think I would like that, my lord, if you do not object.”

“I do not. Indeed, I believe I might continue your education.”

“Thank you, my lord.” I have no notion at all what that might entail but I am eager to learn. I am finding this tutelage a most fascinating business.

Chapter Eight

 

 

Piers calls for more hot water to be brought and the dirty, cooling bathwater to be removed. The process takes several minutes, during which time I sit in silence on the bed. The servants who haul the pails upstairs seem unsurprised by my presence here. When the tub is full once more I assist Piers in removing his clothing, pausing to fold each item carefully. The garments are soiled from the hunt and will doubtless be taken away by his servants to be laundered but I place them neatly upon a chair even so. As he strides over to the tub, I stand, my head bowed but not so much as to impede my view of his impressive cock. My modesty is fast evaporating.

Piers also sports a formidable cockstand, presumably in my honour. The knowledge pleases me.

“Shall I wash your back also, my lord?”

Piers stops before me and tips my chin up with his fingertips. “Not quite yet, little wench. First, I want you to remove this gown.”

“Oh.” I turn toward Ralf who is lounging on the bed but Piers’ fingers tighten around my chin.

“Look at me, Linnet, when I am instructing you. And obey.” His gaze is hard, determined; he expects me to do his bidding or accept the consequences. There is nothing of Ralf’s boyish good humour in these stern features. How can anyone possibly mistake one man for the other?

“Yes, sir,” I whisper.

He releases my chin and steps back to allow me the space I need to undress. Neither man assists me but soon the amber satin is lying in a pool at my feet.

“The chemise, too.” This time it is Ralf who issues the command. I nod and pull it over my head then stand still, my arms at my sides as they both peruse my nude body.

“She is quite lovely, is she not?” enquires Ralf, his tone casual.

“Indeed so,” his brother agrees.

“Her eyes are dazzling, her mouth sheer perfection,” Ralf chooses to elaborate.

“Brother, I am sure you are correct, though I am not looking at her face at this precise moment.”

Ralf is undeterred. “Her mouth will look yet more beautiful with your cock in it, I daresay.”

“Ah, of course. How generous of you to point that out.”

“My pleasure. Linnet, would you kneel, please?”

I swallow, though my mouth has gone dry. The same mouth which is soon to be wrapped around Piers’ thick erection, it would seem. I am scared, yet incredibly aroused at the prospect. I sink slowly to my knees.

“That is good, sweetheart. Now you will hold his cock as you did mine. Use both hands, one for his balls and—ah, yes, that is correct.”

I am quick to obey as Ralf issues his instructions. I look across the room to him, seeking further help.

“Lick the head, taste him.”

I put out my tongue and run the tip across the smooth, swollen head, then slide it around the rim at the edge. The fluid weeping from the slit has a salty tang to it, musky, quite pleasant.

“Does it taste good, little wench?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then open your mouth and take as much as you can inside.”

I am eager to proceed but still I hesitate. Piers’ cock is huge. I am not entirely convinced I can manage this.

“Do not be afraid, little maid. I will not hurt you, nor will I force you to do anything you don’t wish to.” It is Piers who offers me reassurance now. I tilt back my head to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, a deep, rich ebony. He appears less stern, though the passion is evident in his features. His arousal is intoxicating and I am seized by a powerful urge to please him, to please them, in any way I am able. I part my lips and lean forward.

I take all of the head at once. It fills my mouth and I have to breathe through my nose. Piers’ fingers are in my hair, smoothing it back from my face but not applying any force. I look up at him again from my position at his feet.

He nods, offers me a tight smile, then closes his eyes.

“Explore with your tongue and your teeth, but take care not to bite, little one. I suspect your tender bottom would pay a heavy price for such indiscretion.” Ralf has left the bed and is leaning against the wall beside the window, just beyond my line of sight.

I take his advice and swirl my tongue around the head of Piers’ manhood, then experiment with scraping my teeth along the shaft. Piers hisses his approval and his fingers tighten in my hair.

“Suck on it. At the same time pump your hand up and down on the shaft, just slowly at first.”

Ralf is closer now, just behind me. I do as he tells me, encouraged by the moan of appreciation from above. I hollow my cheeks, swallowing hard to increase the pressure.

Piers growls at me, his hips starting to move in small, determined thrusts. He relaxes his grip on my hair though and I am able to set my own pace. “Fuck, girl…” he mutters.

I start to bob my head up and down, curling my tongue around the solid, flaring head as I do so. Footsteps behind me let me know that Ralf is close but still I am startled by the touch of his hands, both of them resting on my shoulders. He squeezes, then crouches behind me.

“You are doing well, little one. Please, do not let me distract you.” He proceeds to achieve exactly that by running his hands up and down my ribcage, skimming the sides of my breasts with his fingers. He leans in to trail a succession of light kisses across my back. “So sweet, such an obedient little bride. You learn well, sweetheart.”

I am in no position to respond but seek to demonstrate my compliance by lifting my shoulders to better receive his kisses.

“You like this?”

I manage a small nod, then resume my work on Piers’ engorged cock. He is thrusting against my mouth now and I find it not unpleasant at all. I manage to open wider and take more of him. The head of his erection nudges the back of my throat though and I start to gag. He backs off immediately. “Sorry, sweet maid. Too fast.”

“You have earned a reward, I believe. Would you like your prize, little one?”

I am puzzled but nod again. A reward sounds to be a pleasant prospect.

“Shall I touch you, I wonder? Would you like that, Linnet?”

Another small nod. It is the most I can manage just now.

“Here, perhaps?” Ralf reaches around to cup my breast, rubbing his palm over my swollen nipple. It feels incredible and I gasp my pleasure.

“Ah, yes, I see you find that pleasing. Such pretty breasts. But what about this? Do you like me to touch your lovely derrière, too, sweetheart?” He slides his hand down my body to demonstrate.

My buttocks and thighs still bear the marks from yesterday’s punishment but the slight discomfort as he presses his palm against my flesh is erotic and sensual rather than painful. My perspective is shifting along with my modesty, it would seem.

“Or perhaps here…” Ralf slides his hand between my legs to caress my quim and I lurch forward. No one has ever touched me there. I have occasionally fumbled myself but lacking skill or experience I had no idea what I was doing, what I might be attempting to achieve. Ralf is hindered by no such limitations and proceeds to swipe his palm through my delicate, sensitive folds. His breath whispers across my neck as he leans forward to speak to me.

“Have a care, my love. Do not sink your teeth into my brother in your ecstasy.”

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