Read Online The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes by Linda Alvarez - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Linda Alvarez
Tags: Romance
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closed for a moment, then he grinned down at her, a quick flash. “Virgil, this lady is compromising me.”
“I’ll protect you,” he said, solemnly.
Preparations took little time. Harcourt opened out the men’s bedrolls atop their canvas tarps, with enough straw beneath for cushioning, while DeVille skimmed off Austin’s coat, knelt, and unbuckled her chaps. His fingers danced along her hip bones, then slid down the outsides of her thighs and cupped her knees above her boots. He tipped his head back to look up at her and said, “It’s a nice change from petticoats and corsetry. Downright inspirational, in fact.”
Austin swallowed and said, “You’ve got considerable clothes yourself. Harcourt, you going to help me with this?”
“Give me his coat, and I’ll hang it up.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant. She stripped off her gloves and, before laying her hands on DeVille’s coat, cupped his face instead. Stubble rasped her palms; he turned his head to press a damp, whiskery kiss into her palm before she reached his mouth. He was more skilled and intent than she’d been prepared for, and when she finally tugged away from him and shoved his coat off, her vest was off, her shirt had been unbuttoned to the waist, and pulled mostly out of her pants. She didn’t linger over DeVille’s waistcoat buttons as she’d intended, fearing she’d find herself ravished and sated before she’d even extracted his watch from its pocket. That would hardly be fair to Captain Harcourt.
DeVille helped her with the shoulder holsters he wore, laying his guns carefully away on a big silk handkerchief. Austin then glanced at Harcourt, whose hands went to the buckle of his gun belt, letting it slither down his hips until she caught the worn leather and laid the weapons aside.
She said to Harcourt, “You take his shirt off.”
A pause. DeVille said, “Lady’s choice, Aaron.” Their gaze met and held in silent conversation. Austin tried imagining using Harcourt’s Christian name herself, and couldn’t quite conceive of it.
Harcourt took a moment, visibly collecting himself, then went to work in businesslike fashion on DeVille’s cuffs and collar. He hesitated again. “You sure about this?”
DeVille shrugged. “I don’t think our Sarah’s that delicate, are you, honey?” He licked his lips, though, and looked away while Harcourt’s hands, suddenly gentle, worked the linen over DeVille’s shoulders and down his arms, and pulled off even his undershirt.
Austin understood, then. The bruise from earlier wasn’t showing except as a red mark, but DeVille was scarred all over his ribs and belly, as if he’d been peppered with a giant shotgun. She forced herself to look away from the damage and saw he had a good pair of shoulders on him. He said, “It’s from canister shot, down in Virginia. You got anything to say?”
“You look fine to me,” she said. She elbowed Harcourt aside and set to DeVille’s pants buttons. He didn’t seem to mind her fumbling there, so she fondled his cock and balls through the fall of his pants before dipping her hands inside and drawing him out. His rosy cock had a pretty arch to it, and she imagined, with suddenly dry mouth, how it might feel inside her cunny.
Harcourt moved behind her and unknotted the thong binding her hair, then spreading her hair over her shoulders. He burrowed his calloused fingers down to her scalp and massaged, a pleasure that brought tears to her eyes. By the time she had DeVille fully naked, her own shirt had disappeared and Harcourt had his arms around her waist from behind, nuzzling her ear while neatly flicking open the buttons on her pants.
Harcourt lifted his head long enough to say to DeVille, “You first,” and returned to her ear, her cheek, her throat, her shoulder, each kiss or nip making her tremble. She shuddered when she felt him hardening against the small of her back, and squirmed against him. He breathed raggedly into her neck and
“I’ll protect you,” he said, solemnly.
Preparations took little time. Harcourt opened out the men’s bedrolls atop their canvas tarps, with enough straw beneath for cushioning, while DeVille skimmed off Austin’s coat, knelt, and unbuckled her chaps. His fingers danced along her hip bones, then slid down the outsides of her thighs and cupped her knees above her boots. He tipped his head back to look up at her and said, “It’s a nice change from petticoats and corsetry. Downright inspirational, in fact.”
Austin swallowed and said, “You’ve got considerable clothes yourself. Harcourt, you going to help me with this?”
“Give me his coat, and I’ll hang it up.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant. She stripped off her gloves and, before laying her hands on DeVille’s coat, cupped his face instead. Stubble rasped her palms; he turned his head to press a damp, whiskery kiss into her palm before she reached his mouth. He was more skilled and intent than she’d been prepared for, and when she finally tugged away from him and shoved his coat off, her vest was off, her shirt had been unbuttoned to the waist, and pulled mostly out of her pants. She didn’t linger over DeVille’s waistcoat buttons as she’d intended, fearing she’d find herself ravished and sated before she’d even extracted his watch from its pocket. That would hardly be fair to Captain Harcourt.
DeVille helped her with the shoulder holsters he wore, laying his guns carefully away on a big silk handkerchief. Austin then glanced at Harcourt, whose hands went to the buckle of his gun belt, letting it slither down his hips until she caught the worn leather and laid the weapons aside.
She said to Harcourt, “You take his shirt off.”
A pause. DeVille said, “Lady’s choice, Aaron.” Their gaze met and held in silent conversation. Austin tried imagining using Harcourt’s Christian name herself, and couldn’t quite conceive of it.
Harcourt took a moment, visibly collecting himself, then went to work in businesslike fashion on DeVille’s cuffs and collar. He hesitated again. “You sure about this?”
DeVille shrugged. “I don’t think our Sarah’s that delicate, are you, honey?” He licked his lips, though, and looked away while Harcourt’s hands, suddenly gentle, worked the linen over DeVille’s shoulders and down his arms, and pulled off even his undershirt.
Austin understood, then. The bruise from earlier wasn’t showing except as a red mark, but DeVille was scarred all over his ribs and belly, as if he’d been peppered with a giant shotgun. She forced herself to look away from the damage and saw he had a good pair of shoulders on him. He said, “It’s from canister shot, down in Virginia. You got anything to say?”
“You look fine to me,” she said. She elbowed Harcourt aside and set to DeVille’s pants buttons. He didn’t seem to mind her fumbling there, so she fondled his cock and balls through the fall of his pants before dipping her hands inside and drawing him out. His rosy cock had a pretty arch to it, and she imagined, with suddenly dry mouth, how it might feel inside her cunny.
Harcourt moved behind her and unknotted the thong binding her hair, then spreading her hair over her shoulders. He burrowed his calloused fingers down to her scalp and massaged, a pleasure that brought tears to her eyes. By the time she had DeVille fully naked, her own shirt had disappeared and Harcourt had his arms around her waist from behind, nuzzling her ear while neatly flicking open the buttons on her pants.
Harcourt lifted his head long enough to say to DeVille, “You first,” and returned to her ear, her cheek, her throat, her shoulder, each kiss or nip making her tremble. She shuddered when she felt him hardening against the small of her back, and squirmed against him. He breathed raggedly into her neck and
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