Her Noble Lords (12 page)

I am trying hard not to but Ralf does not make any of this easy for me. He probes, caresses, teases, stroking the lips of my quim, then slowly easing one long finger inside me.

Oh, dear Lord.
It feels so good. I have never imagined, never dreamed…

I lift my bottom up at his urging, offering him better access. I am pleading, silent, unsure what it is he might do to me, for me but I know I want it. Need it.

“Linnet, do not stop. Piers is close. Concentrate.”

I redouble my efforts, sucking as hard as I am able and pumping my fist up and down the shaft. I know the exact moment his balls contract, ready to force his semen upward.

“Linnet, you are to swallow all of it. Do you understand?” Ralf leans in to murmur his command into my ear.

I nod and Piers fists his fingers in my hair. He is holding my head still as he thrusts but his movements are controlled, not threatening.

“Good. And after, you shall have your reward.” Ralf slides a second finger into me, alongside the first. My channel contracts, my inner walls convulsing as he strokes me.

“Now, little one. Suck hard and squeeze his balls.”

I obey, then I gag again as hot, creamy semen fills my mouth and throat.

“Swallow it, quickly. Breathe through your nose.”

Ralf’s command calms me. I work my throat hard, desperate to clear my airway. In seconds the flood is gone but only to be replaced by more, then more again. I continue to swallow each time, until the flow ceases.

Piers eases my head back, pulling his cock from my mouth. He crouches in front of me and kisses my lips.

“That was superb, little maid. I thank you.”

Superb? Can he be referring to me?
“I am pleased, sir.”

“As are we.” He frames my face with his hands. “And now you have earned your reward.” He glances at Ralf and nods.

Ralf withdraws his fingers, then plunges them back inside me. I squeal, then tighten my inner walls around his digits. He twists his hand, pressing hard on the front wall. The sensation intensifies, wave after wave of pleasure washes over me. I would lower my eyes, look away but Piers is having none of that.

“Look at me. Eyes on me, little maid.”

“Oh, sir, I…”

“Allow me to help.” Piers slides his hand between my legs, from the front. He touches me, somewhere deep, some hidden, secret spot, right at my core. A spasm of white-hot lust spears me, then another. My body is shaking, on the crest of something amazing, something indescribable. I shiver and reach for Piers, needing something solid to hang onto as my world shatters.

Piers strokes me again. At the same time, Ralf shifts his fingers deep inside me. I let out a shrill cry, then another as they ramp up the pleasure beyond anything I can bear. It is enough, too much, relentless. I am spinning, weightless, every muscle in my body contracting hard, then relaxing after the climax crests.

I am grasping Piers’ shoulders, my fingernails digging into his skin. Ralf is speaking to me, murmuring his quiet encouragement still, offering reassurance, permission to surrender.

I do, sagging forward to be caught in Piers’ embrace. I lean against him, my breasts pressing against his firm chest as the final ripples of pleasure flow from my core to my limbs and eventually subside.

Ralf slides his fingers from my body and stands up. Moments later a soft blanket drapes my shoulders and Piers lifts me from the floor.

“You may have a few minutes to relax and recover, then I shall expect you to wash my back, little wench.”

“Yes, sir,” I murmur. In that moment, I would have promised him anything at all.

* * *

“I have dispatched a messenger to the priest who performed our wedding ceremony. I anticipate he will be here within a week or so.” Ralf is seated beside me at the top table in the great hall at Egremont. Most of the household have finished their midday meal and drifted off to be about their afternoon tasks. Piers is talking to the captain of the castle guard at the other end of the hall when Ralf delivers his news to me but Piers soon concludes his business and strides back across the reed-strewn floor to join us.

“I see.” I lay down the knife I had been using to eat my meal and fold my hands in my lap. “He will annul our marriage, then.”

“Yes, if we ask him to. Once the circumstances are explained, I am sure he will be happy to dissolve our union. Especially as it has not been consummated.”

“Yes, my lord. That must be a great relief.” I strive to keep my tone even, to not betray the conflicting emotions this notion stirs in me.

“That is not exactly the description I would apply, Linnet. The consummation of our marriage is a prospect I find most appealing, I can assure you.” Ralf nods a greeting to his brother who has taken a seat opposite. “But in our current situation I would suggest we do have other options we might like to consider.”

“I fear I do not see any, my lord. Our marriage is void. Once that issue is settled, you will wish to take up the matter of your broken betrothal with Lady Eleanor, I expect.”

“Now, why would you expect that, Linnet? That lady has made her opinion perfectly clear.”

“As did you, my lord, in your actions at Wellesworth.” I may be stating the obvious here but I am finding his apparent ambivalence confusing to say the least.

“Matters have moved on considerably since then, little maid. I believe my brother has experienced a change of heart on that score.” Piers helps himself to the last of the wine.

I give up for the moment trying to follow the convoluted path of either man’s reasoning and instead return to the original question. “So, what do you intend to ask of the priest, then, when he arrives here? What other options have you identified?”

“We could request an annulment, of course. Or we could explain the difficulty we find ourselves in and ask Father Peter to hear our vows again, though on this occasion you would use your correct name, naturally.”

I stare at him, bemused. “You would marry me again? Even after… after…”

“I would. I am optimistic that you will find yourself able to resist the urge to do me to death at the first opportunity. Apart from anything else, I fear my brother would not permit it and by now you are well aware of the consequences which would ensue. We should make you aware though that our preferences with regard to any marriage are not entirely—orthodox.”

“I doubt any of what has occurred between us thus far could be so described,” observes Piers.

I have to agree, though I opt not to say so.

“Quite. With that in mind, it is my belief that we should repeat our vows. I—we—would very much like you to be our countess, Linnet.”

“I am not sure I understand. Did you say we?” I look from one to the other. For their part, both are watching me with a degree of interest I find unnerving.

Ralf inclines his head slowly, his expression serious. “I did.
We
want you to be our bride, little one.
Both
of us.”

“Both of you? But, how can two men share one bride? It is not possible.”

Ralf tilts his head to one side in a familiar gesture. It is the posture he usually adopts when he has something of import to share. Certainly, his expression as he regards my perplexed face is serious enough.

“It is true that we will need to make a passing nod to convention in the matter of the wedding itself since I cannot imagine Father Peter agreeing to perform a ceremony with more than one happy bridegroom. But once the formalities are concluded, once Father Peter has been thanked for his efforts and provided with a generous purse to see him on his way and you are secure in your position as Lady Linnet of Egremont, thereafter, we may arrange our private affairs as we wish. As we always have.”

“What do you mean, you always have? I do not understand what you are asking of me, what it is that you are proposing, exactly?”

Ralf adopts a patient expression, as though explaining the mysteries of life to a simpleton. Certainly, I feel somewhat at a loss to comprehend his exact meaning, so perhaps he is wise to proceed slowly.

“We are proposing a marriage between one bride and two bridegrooms. You will be wed to both of us, shared between us.”

I shake my head. “No, that would be…” I search for an appropriate word. “It would be immoral.”

“I do not see why, if we are all three of us comfortable with our arrangement. Certainly, I am at ease with it. What of you, brother?”

Piers inclines his head. “I see no insurmountable difficulties, provided our little maid can bring herself to agree.”

“So, you are suggesting that I would be married to one of you in the eyes of God but act as wife to both?”

Ralf nods, his smile radiant. “Very succinct. That is an excellent description of the arrangement, Linnet. We must commend your clarity of vision.”

My vision is anything but clear. I shake my head. “I cannot. We cannot. It would not work.”

“It worked yesterday evening, in our bedchamber. You pleasured me whilst Piers watched and you loved it when he touched you at the same time. You sucked Piers’ cock whilst I pleasured your quim. Is it not fair to say you found the interlude arousing? Erotic?”

I am discovering Sir Ralf has a penchant for understatement. “I, well, yes, but—”

“You responded well, you loved it. You found yourself enjoying the attentions of two men and you relished every moment. If we had intended to fuck you there and then, you would not have objected. Confess it.” Piers is less delicate in his description but his assessment of the situation is accurate enough.

“I… that is true.” I am blushing, beyond mortified but I cannot lie about how I behaved, what I felt.

Ralf reaches for my hand and holds it between both of his. “I should add, sweetheart, in case you are wondering, that we do have every intention of fucking you at the earliest opportunity. However, there remains the possibility that you may refuse our suggestion, in which case we would need to seek an annulment. In such an eventuality, it would aid our cause if you were able to swear to be a virgin. However if you should agree to this alternative course…”

My head is spinning. I am confused, outraged, intrigued, aroused. But foremost in my mind is utter bewilderment. I voice the question which perplexes me the most. “But it makes no sense to me. Why would you do this? Why offer to make me a countess when you do not have to? I am no one, a serf. If you want me to share your bed, both of you, I will have little say in the matter.”

“Ah, you do ask the most awkward questions, little maid.” Piers fixes me with his intent gaze. “Let us explain, if we can. Our situation is somewhat complex though and perhaps unique.”

I can find no grounds to contest that assertion so I remain silent.

“We have been together all our lives, Ralf and I. We are never far from one another. Our lives are intertwined, inextricably bound by blood, by heritage, and by the fact we are sprung from the same seed. We are identical, in every way.”

I start to shake my head but Piers forestalls me with one raised finger.

“Not to you. We know that and this is what makes you so special to us. Our mother could tell us apart, usually, unless we set out to deceive her which we did on occasions. Our sister, too, knew us one from the other. But that is all. No one else, ever. Until now. Until you.” He pauses, then meets my astonished gaze. “Can you imagine what that is like, little maid? To be one of a pair, not a unique individual. Our people here neither know nor care which of us they deal with. We share authority here, though only one of us is nominally the earl. It matters not, we are the same.”

“But—”

“Except with you. With you, we are individuals, unique, different. We are together still but separate, too. You look at us and see two men, not one split in half. You complete us, Linnet, you make each of us whole and we find we need you almost as much as we need each other.”

Ralf takes up the narrative. “We have shared women in the past. Indeed, we invariably do so and the ladies concerned are unaware which of us they bed. I confess it is rare that we would both make love to the same woman at the same time but you do seem to bring out the strangest qualities in us. With you, all things seem possible. Yesterday was a most beguiling, erotic experience, beyond my wildest expectations. Your submission to our demands was intoxicating and I crave more of that. Would you not agree, brother?”

“It was a rare delight, certainly and one I would happily repeat,” concedes Piers, though I do not detect the same enthusiasm from him as Ralf displays.

“But, what if…?” I hesitate, not sure quite how to phrase my next question. I opt to just say it and worry about niceties some other time. “What if I were to conceive? How would you know which one of you was the father? The child would be the heir to your earldom…”

Ralf smiles at me. “Ah, yes, that is it exactly. That would be the perfect solution. You would be the wife of the earl so your children will be legitimate heirs, whichever one of us was the true sire. As we share the earldom now, so will we share our heirs. But this can only happen if you agree to this proposal of ours.”

“I, I am not sure. It is—very strange.”

“Yes, it is most certainly that.” Piers drains his goblet and stands. “You should take time to reflect on what we have told you, on what we have asked of you. If you agree and we hope you will, it must be your choice. Be assured, if you do not wish to accept our offer, you will still be welcome to remain here. We will find a place for you at Egremont or you may leave, as you wish.”

“Thank you, my lord… lords. How much time do I have in which to consider?”

Ralf answers me. “You have until the priest arrives, a few days or so. You may have the use of the chamber allotted to you, the one formerly used by our sister and where you slept last night, though if you choose to join us in the earl’s private quarters, you would be most welcome. Should you do so, however, we cannot entirely promise that your virginity would remain intact.”

Piers’ snort of derision tells its own tale. I am under no illusion that I would leave their chamber a virgin for a second time.