Retreat From Love (18 page)

“Anne,” Brett moaned, his voice deep and desperate and needy. Freddy saw Anne’s lips curve slightly and his cock jerked. He felt a slow glide of hot moisture leak out the tip and run down the head, and it was his turn to shiver.

He ran his hand up her spine again and she bowed her back into his touch. He pushed his hand into her hair and gripped the back of her head. Then he slowly pushed her head down and watched as Brett’s cock pressed her lips apart, spreading them as wide as they would go as she engulfed it.

“My God, Anne,” Freddy said breathlessly. He’d never known a sex act to be as arousing as watching Anne take Brett in her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed and she breathed deeply through her nose. Her expression was euphoric. Freddy could see her neck muscles move and he realized that she was swirling her tongue around Brett’s cock.

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“Anne,” Brett groaned, his hand cupping the back of her head over Freddy’s hand.

The calluses on Brett’s palm scraped across the knuckles of Freddy’s hand, and it was as arousing as a caress. Together they moved Anne’s head up and down, watching as her lips were stretched, the corners white with strain around the thick shaft of Brett’s cock.

She rumbled deep in her throat and Brett cried out, his back arching.

“Do it,” Brett panted, “fuck her, Freddy. Now. I can’t last. I can’t.”

Freddy watched Anne’s cheeks hollow as she pulled deeply on Brett’s cock and the other man grunted as if in pain. At the same time Brett’s hand clutched tighter over his, forcing her head down, making her take another inch into her mouth.

Freddy pulled his hand away, leaned back and looked down. He grabbed Anne’s hips and pulled them higher, and she paused on Brett’s cock. She spread her knees wide and raised her bottom in the air, keeping her head down, giving him the perfect angle.

“That’s it,” Freddy crooned softly, “that’s perfect, darling Anne. You know just what to do, how you like it.” Freddy ran a finger through her slit and she was all creamy smooth wetness, dripping curls and velvety lips. He felt her shaking, heard the little whimper that escaped her as his finger found her entrance and slid deeply inside in one smooth motion.

“You’re more than ready, my sweet. You’re desperate again, aren’t you? You are so amazing, so exciting.” Freddy murmured the praise absently, the words coming of their own volition, without thought. He removed his finger and grasped her hips again. He kneeled behind her and took his cock in his hand, rubbing the head up and down her soaking mound. “Christ,” he muttered, throwing back his head as he enjoyed the silky feel of her incredibly soft inner lips on his sensitive head, her pubic hair a rough, contrasting caress.

His blood was pounding so hard in his ears he could barely hear Brett’s groans and the wet sounds of Anne’s beautiful mouth working Brett’s cock. The world had narrowed to his cock against Anne’s sweet, wet, hot sex, and the sheer pleasure that awaited him inside. He was going to fuck Anne. Fuck her for Brett.

With a small cant of his hips Freddy slid the head of his cock into Anne. “Oh God,”

he groaned. He vaguely heard Brett laugh weakly.

“She feels so damn good,” Brett rasped. “So fucking good, doesn’t she, Freddy?”

Freddy didn’t answer. He simply surged inside her, filling her, giving her everything he had. She gloved him like she’d been custom tailored for his cock.

Anne’s mouth came off Brett and she gave an abbreviated high shriek at his entrance that degenerated into a sob. “Freddy,” she cried out. “God, yes.”

“Suck Brett, Anne,” Freddy growled. “I want your mouth on him while I fuck you.”

Anne didn’t need to be told twice. She took Brett in one swallow, his entire length buried in her sweet mouth. She coughed a little, and Brett pushed her back.

“Are…” he paused and licked his lips, “are you all right? Not so deep, sweetheart.”

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Anne laughed a little self-consciously around Brett’s cock and for some reason Freddy found that both endearing and arousing. He couldn’t stop from thrusting into her a little, and Anne moaned.

“How many times have you done that, Anne?” Freddy asked, gritting his teeth as he forced himself not to move.

She pulled away again and Brett groaned. “Once or twice,” she answered, her voice a little rough. “I never liked it before.”

Brett started to sit up with a curse. “Why didn’t you say so? I don’t want to make you do something you don’t like.”

Anne laughed and pushed him down again. “I said before. I like this just fine.”

Brett caught himself on an elbow. “What do you mean?”

Anne sighed theatrically. “I mean I like doing it to you. You taste good, you smell good, and I just like it. So be quiet and let me have my fun.” Freddy slowly pulled out of her and then thrust back in just as slowly. Anne’s head fell back on her shoulders.

“Oh God, Freddy, yes. You have your fun too.”

Freddy laughed with dark amusement. “Oh I am, Anne, I am.” He looked at Brett.

“Lie down and let Anne suck your cock.”

Brett did as he was told with a wicked grin. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“That’s right,” Freddy growled, “and don’t you forget it.”

Brett’s laugh was cut off as Anne slid her mouth around his cock. They began a dance that Freddy had never done before. As he thrust into Anne she sucked Brett’s cock into her mouth, and as he pulled out she pulled off. He found it hard to believe they hadn’t done this a thousand times, their rhythm was so perfect. Brett had retreated into incoherent desire as he alternated between watching Anne’s mouth on him and Freddy’s cock in Anne. His eyes were glazed, his pupils large, his cheekbones sharp slashes of tension across his handsome face. He kept biting his lip to keep from crying out, but repeatedly he gave in and his low, wild, wordless cries spurred Anne and Freddy on.

Brett began to shiver and his hips were driving his cock into Anne’s mouth. Freddy felt the heat in his balls as they grew so big and tight it was an excruciating pleasure to hold back his climax. He felt Anne’s sheath quiver around him, and he knew she was holding on by a thread as well. None of them wanted it to end. But Freddy knew it didn’t have to. They would have Anne again and again, however they wanted, and she would love it. She would love them. And Freddy would bring Brett and Anne together.

Everything would work out. It had to.

“Come, Brett. Come for us, and then watch us come for you.” Freddy’s voice was low, dark, demanding. He surprised himself with that voice. He liked it, he liked it very much.

Brett cried out and arched his back, thrusting deep in Anne’s throat as she gasped.

Brett buried his hands in her hair and held her tightly as his cock jerked and jumped.

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Freddy could actually see the spasms as Brett spilled in Anne’s mouth. Anne choked, some of Brett’s release leaking back down his shaft to pool in his pubic hair.

“Swallow, Anne,” Freddy told her. “Swallow around him, as much as you can.

What you can’t just let it go.”

Anne seemed to take his advice, and she stopped choking. He saw her throat working as she swallowed, and Freddy swallowed with her, almost tasting Brett on his tongue. Anne moaned. Brett had fallen back onto the blanket, panting roughly as his hands smoothed Anne’s hair. When she pulled away, rising to her hands and knees, Brett leaned up, cupping her jaw in his palm, and he kissed her tenderly. Freddy felt a spurt of dark jealousy, wanting to taste Brett in her mouth, wanting to greedily lick the residue of Brett’s climax from Anne’s lips. Brett broke the kiss slowly, and Freddy felt Anne clamp down on his cock.

“Fuck Freddy,” Brett told her softly. “Fuck him for me, come for me.”

Anne looked at Freddy over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips cock-bruised, bright red and slick with Brett’s seed. Freddy’s cock jerked inside her and she closed her eyes and thrust back against him. “Fuck me,” she moaned. “Fuck me hard, Freddy.”

Freddy gave her what she wanted. He drove into her again and again, the force of his thrusts nearly bringing her knees up from the ground. Brett leaned on one elbow and held her hands firmly to the ground, an action that seemed to drive Anne into a frenzy. She growled and fucked back against Freddy hard and fast. Freddy leaned over her and placed his hands over Brett’s. The change in angle made Anne give a gurgling scream, so Freddy began to thrust high and hard into her. She sobbed his name and then she began to come.

Her inner walls clutched Freddy so hard it was difficult to pull out and drive back in, but he did.

“No, no,” Anne moaned, yanking a hand from under theirs to blindly grab at him behind her.

“Stay deep, Freddy,” Brett urged him, “press hard inside her.” Freddy saw Brett reach down and he guessed that Brett was rubbing or pinching her clitoris. Anne screamed loud and long as her already strong climax intensified. Pressed so deep and hard inside her, Freddy felt every trembling moment of it until he could take no more.

With a shout he pulled out and thrust hard and then exploded. He heard Anne cry out, heard Brett cry his name, but Freddy was lost in the gripping, wrenching pleasure of the most intense climax of his life. He felt his cock pulse and pulse and pulse, filling Anne, filling her for Brett.

When it was over Freddy barely managed to move to the side before collapsing against the blanket. He felt a hand brush tenderly over his hair. Was it Anne or Brett?

He didn’t care. He purred into the caress. He heard Anne panting near him but Brett’s breathing had almost returned to normal.

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“Thank you,” Brett said quietly, and Freddy realized it was his hand in Freddy’s hair. He opened his eyes to see Brett brushing his fingers through Anne’s hair as well, where she lay with her cheek pillowed on his stomach. Brett was looking between them.

“Yes, well,” Anne said in a rough voice. She cleared her throat. “Don’t expect me to endure much of that kind of torture. More than three or four times a day and I shall have to complain, I think.”

“Ah God, Anne,” Freddy said, and he found himself laughing weakly with

happiness. How ever had they survived before Anne? A chill stole his breath. How would he survive if they left him?

That evening Freddy and Brett enjoyed a quiet dinner at Ashton Park after seeing Anne home. They talked about inconsequential things in front of Reeves and the footmen.

After the last dish was removed Freddy and Brett moved to the library for drinks—

port for Freddy and scotch for Brett. Brett settled on a rather uncomfortable couch along the bank of windows that faced the enormous fireplace on the opposite side of the long, narrow room. Freddy had often wondered why his mother had chosen uncomfortable furniture for the library. It seemed perverse. As did the giant cage-like doors on all the bookshelves, as if to enjoy a book here were criminal.

“What are you going to do about Anne?” Brett asked suddenly.

Freddy was taken aback and he paused in the process of sitting in a small, spindle-legged chair facing Brett. He blinked several times and then continued down to the seat.

Thoughts were racing through his head about possible things he could do about Anne.

He let none of them show on his face, however. After sitting, he crossed his legs nonchalantly and set his port down on the small table next to his chair. The table was also spindly, too small to support the weight of half the tomes in the library.

“And what exactly do I need to do something about?” He thought his voice

sounded unconcerned, maybe mildly interested.

Brett looked exasperated. “Clearly the Goodes have been reduced to less than ideal circumstances. Why? I know you saw the reactions of the merchants in the village.

There were several furtive conversations, most of which involved Anne trying to give them money and being refused. And yet they did not hesitate to carry on business with her while we were there.”

Freddy breathed a shaky inner sigh. For a moment he’d thought Brett was going to end things with Anne after their one encounter today. He picked up his port and took a sip while he gathered his thoughts. “Each of those transactions was made with me, however, against Anne’s protestations and with the encouragement of the merchants.

Curious. They don’t seem to spurn her business, or her. And yet I got the distinct impression there was something we were missing.”

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Brett leaned back with a nod. “Exactly. No sugar in the house when we arrived, threadbare furniture, out-of-fashion clothes. In many ways they are the portrait of reduced circumstances. However, Anne was trying to pay them and she was refused.”

Freddy looked at Brett and raised his eyebrow questioningly. “Stephen?”

Brett nodded. “My thought as well. I’m sure Stephen will know what is going on.

He works closely with Mrs. Goode, or so Anne tells us.” Brett swirled his scotch in the glass and then took a healthy swallow. “Besides, it is about time that we paid our respects. We haven’t been to see him since we arrived. He’s probably written us off by now.”

Freddy laughed. “Hardly. I’m sure Stephen is even now making excuses for us.”

Brett swirled the liquid in his glass again and smiled distractedly before he gulped down the rest of the scotch. The way he was drinking it, it might as well be water.

Freddy stared incredulously when Brett rose in a jerky fashion and set his glass down with a finality that indicated his evening was over.

“Well then, I’m off to bed.” He started to leave but Freddy hurriedly stood and grabbed his arm.

“That’s it? You’re really going to walk out of this room without discussing what happened this afternoon?”

Brett glued blank eyes on Freddy’s hand until he removed it. Then he spoke over Freddy’s shoulder, not meeting his eyes. “This afternoon was about Anne.”

Freddy threw his hands up in the air. “Of course it was about Anne! But you and I were there as well, Brett, and you damn well know it.”

Brett’s calm façade broke, and he turned angrily to Freddy. “I knew you’d try to make more out of it than there was. Can’t you just accept that what happened happened? Why must we examine it to death?”