The Rightful Lord (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 3), Sahara Kelly [english novels for students .TXT] 📗

Her grip on Evan and Jeremy’s hands tightened on hers, as she felt Gabriel’s fingers slowly rubbing around her tight muscles.

It wasn’t unpleasant, just unusual, and also surprisingly arousing.

“Relax, Gwyneth,” Gabriel whispered. “Relax and enjoy this. You will like it, love, I promise.”

She knew what he referred to and hoped he was right. Although she had experienced it once before, she was still hesitant, in spite of the information she had garnered recently from a book.

Cytherian Tales had looked like a simple novel sitting in the library, and one afternoon it had appealed to her. The author, listed as Lady Corinth, could have been anyone at all. But the contents had proved that assumption to be entirely incorrect.

The “novel” contained more than a few shorter stories, all purportedly written by women. Women who worked in areas not customarily mentioned in polite society. These whores, for so they were, had the luxury of choosing their clients in a very unusual brothel.

The scenes were detailed, the actions clearly described, and nothing was held back. It had riveted Gwyneth from start to finish, even as she realised what an enormous help this book would be to women who were ignorant about the pleasures of intercourse, which described most of them prior to their marriage.

It also depicted many sexual acts of which she was unaware. ‘The Night of Dark Delights’ had been a particularly edifying story, both arousing her curiosity and her desires, even while shocking her.

Now that she had had a little experience in this area, she knew that this cleansing, this ritual as it were, might well be preparing her for her own Night of Dark Delights.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but as soon as Evan leaned over and began to dry her breasts with a soft cloth, her body slid into the growing heat of her arousal and her thoughts fractured.

Jeremy also had a cloth and was softly rubbing her belly and lower, tracing his way to her mound, carefully drying the curls of hair, teasing lower with his touch then returning to her warming skin.

“Out now, I think,” Gabriel said quietly, and the two men lifted her easily from the bath, standing her on the rug before the fire.

It was heaven, sensually erotic and the most wonderful experience, feeling the heat of brightly burning logs against her bare flesh, and three hard and handsome bodies around her, rubbing her dry.

She closed her eyes, letting them lift her arms high, loving the delicate touches to her breasts, her buttocks, everywhere. Her thighs were damp from something other than bathwater, and she moaned as they finished—the sound of clothing hitting the floor telling her they were now as naked as she.

“We want you,” murmured Jeremy in one ear.

“All of you,” said Gabriel in the other.

“Come love, let us play,” whispered Evan, taking her hand and leading her away from the fire to the bed.

“All right,” she whispered back. “Let’s play.”

*~~*~~*

Journal of Gwyneth, Lady of Wolfbridge - November 1818

Last night - oh, last night!

Yes, I must write it all down now, that I may recall everything whenever I choose to re-read my words in years to come.

I must also ensure this journal is secreted somewhere very safe, much as those love letters we discovered at Fivetrees. For if my remarks should see the light of day, they would provide a shocking scandal the likes of which would be unimaginable.

I was bathed last night, truly worshipped, by three of my gentlemen, who cleansed, caressed, washed, and dried me with the utmost attention to every detail.

In truth, by the time I arose from the bath I was filled with erotic pleasure, and seeing all of them waiting in my bed…it was almost more than my mind could withstand.

Jeremy, so firm, his muscles curves beneath smooth skin, his strong arms ready to embrace me. He was aroused, thick around, and when he penetrates me I feel wonderfully stretched. He lay, unashamed, his cock erect, smiling at me as if I were the answer to his prayers.

Near him, Evan lay casually on his side, his eyes twinkling in the firelight. His hand extinguished the only candle near the bed, but the light from the fire illuminated his body, gleaming and so very male. His cock was also hard, resting on his thigh, and my mouth watered as I caught the tiny sparkle of liquid on its head.

Gabriel…ah, sweet Gabriel. 

Pale as an angel, skin smooth and sleek, he waited by the bed, reminding me of a panther, calm and unmoving, yet strong and determined beneath the beautiful exterior. His cock thrust forward proudly, showing me how much he desired me.

There they were, three of them, all mine. And my heart was so full at the sight of them, I tried to absorb the picture they made, three luscious bodies over which firelight danced with glee. Would that I could paint and capture this moment for eternity.

“Come, sweetheart,” said Gabriel softly, extending his hand.

“She will,” Jeremy chuckled, making us all laugh.

It is hard to describe how willing I was to go to them. The eagerness that filled me, the joy, the lust—for I admit that’s what it was—with which I stared at them.

Of course I went to them and found myself amidst warm, firm bodies, arms that held me, lips that kissed me and hands that roamed everywhere.

My hands were just as eager, stroking that flesh, running down thighs dappled with hair, over nipples flat as little pancakes yet with their own tiny arousals I could excite with mouth and fingers.

I scarce remember the moans, but there were many. We tangled ourselves delightfully, and I found myself licking and kissing and sucking, as did my gentlemen.

We became heated, of