Hot Buttered Strumpet (4 page)

He cleaned her
carefully,
wiping the stickiness away with the wet cloth, then dried her just as carefully with the towel. When he looked into her face, she gave him a soft, contented sigh and a smile.

  
“You’re lovely,” he said. “And you’re ours now.”

* * * *

All of them were dressed and downstairs when the carriage turned the corner of the narrow lane.

Thomas opened the door and ushered them inside. “Come on.” He turned to the woman. “Don’t worry, strumpet, we’ll take good care of you. Is there anything we should get from your room in the pub, before we go?”

The woman looked at him and slowly shook her head. Thomas nodded.

Wren realised what that meant. She didn’t own any valuables and there weren’t any personal things to collect.

When they were all seated in the carriage—the woman facing forward beside Wren while the two other men shared the opposite seat—Robert asked, “Where are we going to take her?”

“Not the town house,” Wren said. “Not while mother’s there.” He didn’t have to add that their mother would certainly not approve of them bringing home waterfront strumpets after buttering them up to fuck them hard in every available orifice, especially if they were planning to repeat the experience on her premises.

“True, Mother wouldn’t approve,” Robert said.

“Not my place either,” Thomas threw in, a bit too casually.

Wren suppressed a laugh and caught Robert’s eye. The younger man grinned. Thomas owned a town house, which was, however, currently occupied by his mistress, a fashionable society widow who was as jealous as she was gorgeous. Katherine certainly would not share quarters with competition and absolutely not with a barmaid.

“Katherine would be furious.” Robert sounded mocking. Katherine’s temper was a touchy subject with Thomas.

Thomas glared at Rob. “If you’re so smart, why don’t you suggest something, little brother?”

“Wren’s place, then?”
Robert suggested tentatively.

“At least there aren’t any prying females there.” Nevertheless Wren frowned as he thought about the disadvantages of bringing a woman to his bachelor residence. Ah well, at least she wasn’t a fashionable lady like Katherine. A barmaid wouldn’t need her own suite of boudoir, drawing room and dressing room. She wouldn’t drive the servants mad with all kinds of frivolous nonsense.

When the carriage turned into a more fashionable part of town, the wench began to wriggle in her seat. Wren realised that she must feel uncomfortable with her surroundings, and said, “Come.” He held out his hand to her.

She took it tentatively and he pulled her sideways into his lap so she could rest her head against his shoulder. He closed his arms around her tightly. “Don’t worry, my lovely,” he whispered into her ear. “It’s all going to be fine. You’re safe with us.”

The other two men didn’t contest his possessive gesture for the moment. The woman relaxed into his embrace with a contented little sigh. He hugged her closer against his chest. “Rest now,” he said. “We’ll be home soon.”

Chapter Three

When Annie awoke, she lay in a big bed in a pleasantly furnished bedroom. She couldn’t exactly remember how she had got there. They must have carried her in from the carriage where she had fallen asleep in Wren’s lap. She blushed at the vivid mental image of him carrying her across the threshold like a new bride,
then
shook her head. Ridiculous, she told herself. They had probably dragged her in like a sack of potatoes between the three of them.

The room had a nice size. Everything looked masculine but subtly elegant and more expensive than anything she had ever seen or owned in her life. The bed was a wide four-poster with grey drapes and crisp white sheets. The floor was polished wood, covered with several thick carpets. A washstand occupied one corner while a plush blue chaise longue and a dresser with a beautifully carved dark wooden mirror sat in the corner below the window. The walls were covered by expensive-looking wallpaper with light grey stripes. The grey drapes over the window matched the ones on the bed, and sunlight was streaking in through a crack in the drapes.

She guessed it was late morning, and wondered how long she had slept.

When she moved to turn back the covers and get up, she gasped. Her body was sore and aching from the intense sexual experience of the night before. She got up carefully and used the chamber pot, which made her burn and wince some more. Damn, had she ever been buggered! No wonder she was sore.

After freshening up at the washstand, she explored the room. She checked the drawers of the dresser. Expensive-looking male undergarments and toiletries, but no indication of which of the men they might belong to. Wait, hadn’t she heard this was Wren’s place? She picked up a neatly folded garment, holding it to her nose. It smelt clean with a faint note of masculinity. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes.

When she opened them again, she caught sight of her naked body in the mirror, blushing when she realised that she was nuzzling a man’s drawers. She quickly folded them and put them back in the dresser.

  
She went back to her exploration of the room. There were no more clues to be had as to the identity of its owner, so she tried the doors. The one on the right led to a sitting room. It was equally tastefully furnished and equally empty. The second door, a smaller one on the left, led to a dressing room with lots of men’s clothes. Breeches, shirts, coats, waistcoats, cravats but not a single dress in sight.

There was a beautiful Chinese dressing gown with dragons embroidered on the soft blue silk. She borrowed it until she could discover the whereabouts of her clothes.

Annie looked at herself in the dressing room mirror. Her hair was a mess. She went back to the dresser and found a comb, with which she tried to disentangle her hair,
then
she piled the curls up on her head and tied them with a blue silk cravat.

Content with her appearance for the moment, Annie turned away from the dresser and tried the third door. It led from the bedroom into a corridor. There were more doors to the left and right.

She could hear noises at one end of the passage and the clattering of dishes. Her stomach growled. How long since she had eaten? Ah yes, the meal she had shared with Wren before she had sucked his lovely cock.
 

She found herself staring dreamily down the hall, thinking of Wren and how she could really get used to his company. He was gentle and strong and she went all warm and wobbly inside just thinking about the way he had looked at her when she rode his hard shaft.

She wanted to find him, to be close to him. She pattered down the passage on her bare feet, looking into empty rooms to the left and right until she found another bedroom. Two people shared the big four-poster bed. She gasped and almost closed the door again, before she realised they were Wren and his younger brother, the angelic one. What was his name again? Ah yes, Robert.

 
Robert, the angelic, lay on his back gloriously naked, one arm sprawled over his head, the other at his groin. He was still asleep but his cock was half-
erect,
a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip. She wanted to lick it. Ah well, later maybe.

Her gaze was drawn to the other man on the bed. Wren was also quite obviously naked although his body was half-covered with a thin white sheet, which tented quite prominently where his cock had begun to stir. Annie’s gaze wandered up his body appreciatively, surprised to meet his warm grey eyes.

“Good morning, my lovely,” he said in his soft, deep voice. “Care to join us?” He pulled the sheet from his rampant cock and smiled at her invitingly.

Annie blushed but smiled back at him. “I’d love to. But you’ll have to go slow on me today, sir. I’m still a bit sore from last night.”

His answering smile was rueful as he urged her to him for a slow, sensual kiss. Her body snuggling between the two men, she felt warm and content. Then he began to kiss her in earnest, arousing her with the expert caresses of his powerful hands. When she moaned against his mouth and pushed her body against his, he chuckled lightly. “You’re insatiable, aren’t you? I would love to lick your pussy but that will probably wake Rob and he will want to join in the fun.”

She giggled. “I’m ready to go, if you are,” she whispered, suddenly a little shy.

He pulled the dressing gown off her,
then
crawled down her body burying his mouth between her legs while he straddled her. This position had the definite advantage of presenting her with direct access to his beautiful cock and a pair of impressive testicles covered in smooth skin. She made ample use of this advantage, licking his balls then sucking him deep into her mouth.

His tongue on her clit made her writhe and buck her hips until she moaned her pleasure around his cock, the uncontrollable spasms running through her body encouraging her to suck him even harder. He didn’t take long to bring her to orgasm.

“Careful, lovely, don’t bite it off,” she heard him say in a tight voice muffled by her own pussy. Ashamed of her passionate need for him, she let him slip out of her mouth, which felt curiously empty without his cock in it.

He didn’t let her contemplate her loss for too long. He grabbed her hips and turned her around to her hands and knees, positioning himself behind her. The rounded head of his shaft bumped against her slick entrance. Moaning, she pushed back against him, silently inviting him to take her. She was wet and ready for him, her juices trickling down the inside of her thighs. Just when she thought she couldn’t take his teasing for another second, he entered her with one long, powerful thrust. He wasn’t gentle, but she shook and moaned with pleasure nevertheless. And she pushed against him, meeting him stroke for wonderful stroke.

She realised they weren’t alone in their lovemaking any longer. Robert had apparently awakened and crept underneath her body. He began to nibble and suck her breasts, teasing her clit with nimble fingers. She purred with delight and came again within seconds, while Wren was still pounding into her from behind. His cock felt so incredibly good grazing the walls of her pussy that she pushed back into him, trying to take him even deeper. With her mind focussed on the place where she and Wren were joined together in an erotic dance, Annie hardly felt Robert slip out from under her body and leave the bed. In that moment, she didn’t really care.

Wren’s orgasm took him in long hard waves. He pushed into her up to his balls with three long, earth-shattering strokes that made her cry out again. He reached both arms around her body so they rocked together in gentle, slow fulfilment while his semen spurted into her in powerful gusts.

She felt utterly at home in the embrace of this powerful man and would gladly have stayed this way for all eternity. She never wanted to let him go. When they finally collapsed on the mattress together she realised what he had been yelling over and over again when they came together.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

* * * *

Wren woke from a deep, satisfied sleep, his body still heavy with contentment. He smiled at the woman in his arms. He enjoyed holding her close, snuggling against her lush body. Her unabashed sensuality took his breath away. She was a real woman, he thought, no anaemic upper-class twit strangled by the dictates of propriety. He’d seen too many of those lately, as their mother had paraded an unending stream of eligible females before them, obviously hoping that one of her three sons would finally marry and give her the grandchildren she so desperately wanted. He could sympathise with her wishes up to a point. She obviously needed to fill the void left by her husband’s death. But he couldn’t bring himself to consider marriage with one of the stiff creatures…yet.

“It is all very well, sowing your wild oats and such, but you will have to settle down eventually,” she had told him only yesterday, and the day before, and three times last week. “And you should settle down with someone proper.”

Wren groaned at the memory. Unlike Thomas, who would probably not mind being married if the lady was willing to let him keep his mistress too, Wren didn’t like the idea of tying himself to a cold, indifferent, pattern-card of propriety. He wanted a passionate woman in his bed every night.

His gaze raked the lush body of the wench lying in his arms again and he found himself wondering… While their father hadn’t been rich, his sons had each made a considerable fortune in the current craze of railway speculations. Wren was a wealthy man, quite able to support a family. Should he not decide whom to marry?

When the woman stirred in his arms, then opened her eyes, Wren smiled at her. “Good morning, again,” he said, startled at how husky his own voice sounded. “Did you sleep well?”

“Hmm,” she answered and stretched luxuriously, her hip brushing his groin.

His cock stirred and he was tempted to make love to her yet again, but checked himself. He also wanted to talk to her, to find out more about her. No conversation would take place if he gave in to his desires.

“The bar.”
To distract himself, he blurted out the first thing that crossed his mind. “How did you end up working there?”