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Her Husband’s Lover
Lyle gave another chuckle. ‘Emma Langley, I don’t think I know you at all. I can’t believe you’ve just said you wish to see me fucked in the arse by another man. What are you thinking?’
‘I’m sorry. I should have kept quiet.’
‘No. No, you should not have kept quiet. You should speak some more. You ought to tell me why you want to watch things that way. Is it so that you might imagine yourself in my place?’
‘No!’ she squeaked, alarmed by how her insides seemed to heat at the notion. ‘The pair of you looked good together.’
Lyle shook his head, dismissing the answer as the blind it was. ‘I don’t think that’s it at all.’ He didn’t say what he thought her true reasoning was, for he reached climax at that moment. Emma watched his seed spurt from the tip of his cock. It fell in silvery streaks upon his belly and coated his fingers. For several long moments he held himself still and gulped down uneven breaths. Eventually he opened his eyes and found a handkerchief.
‘I believe you are monstrously wicked, Emma Langley, and if I hadn’t already married you, I would do so again.’ He reached out, but stopped short of embracing her. ‘I’ll speak to Darleston and arrange a time and a place when we can indulge you. I’m sure he’ll oblige. He’s quite sweet on you too.’
While she floundered, wondering what in heavens she was supposed to make of that remark, Lyle cleaned himself up and redressed.
‘Are you sure he won’t think it strange?’
Darleston had not seemed overly perturbed at being watched in the amphitheatre, but that had been accidental. Arranging a situation where she would be their official audience while they did that was different altogether.
‘I think he’ll see you as a very accommodating hostess. Not everyone is quite so gracious about sharing their husband. And Emma – I don’t mind that you desire him, just as long as you don’t steal him away. So you needn’t feel guilty in that regard. Everyone ought to have someone who makes them feel alive, but I am curious. What is it about him?’
Truthfully, she answered: ‘I don’t know.’
CHAPTER SIX
When Lyle went upstairs to address Emma, Darleston made his own excuses and left Hill and the rest of his house guests to their port and cigars. He walked out of Field House and set off along the riverbank, using the quiet time to churn over thoughts and possibilities. The sun still lingered on the edge of the horizon and swarms of aphids hovered over the deceptively still water. The river reminded him rather strongly of Emma Langley – or maybe she was simply in his thoughts – placid on the surface but driven by ferocious hidden currents.
Despite the excitement of the day and the prospect of working his way into Emma’s heart, he felt calmer now than he had in weeks. He guessed his good mood could be attributed to the sexual release. He’d always pursued his passions, even once they’d become a little jaded and prone to extremes, but for the last few months, between losing Giles and Lucy’s hideous rumour-mongering, he’d shied away from any sort of engagement. Maybe that too contributed to why seducing Emma had such a sense of piquancy. Women like Emma, cold on the outside, burned like hot coals once you cracked the surface, but he wasn’t sure which element of the challenge he relished most: seeing her passion burn so brightly once she’d surrendered, or planting the initial seeds of temptation required to set her on the path to his bed.
To his and Lyle’s bed.
Hell, he shouldn’t be so excited by the prospect, but he was.
He’d never had a husband and wife together before. Leastways, not after their vows. It was probably taking an enormous risk, yet there remained something hopelessly alluring about it. It was proving far too easy to fall for Lyle all over again. As for Emma – he liked the heat in her gaze when she looked at him. He loved the glimpses of her spirit he’d seen, like her annoyance at being thought weak and silly purely because she was a woman. And he craved – yes, craved – half her strength. He couldn’t survive without others around him to prop him up. The sort of solitude she endured would kill him.
‘Robert?’
He turned at the sound of his name to find a small coracle bobbing on the water. It contained two gentlemen, one of whom gave him a frantic wave. Darleston sauntered down to the water’s edge and waited for the boat to approach. His twin brother leapt from the vessel and slapped him about the back by way of greeting.
‘When did you get here? This afternoon? Hill didn’t mention you earlier.’
‘My presence must have escaped his mind. Last night. Pennerley wasn’t in the mood to be accommodating.’
‘I can’t imagine why you ever thought he would be. I don’t suppose anything has changed there since last November. Is Miss Rushdale still with him?’
Pennerley had split with his long-term lover the previous Hallowe’en and had been brooding in his castle ever since.
‘Yes, she’s still there.’
‘Excellent.’ Neddy rubbed his hands together. He turned to the man who remained in the boat, tilting the oars. ‘That’s twelve guineas you owe me, Quernow.’
The man resignedly bowed his head.
‘So, how are you finding the place? Shall we walk?’ Urged along by his brother’s grip upon his shoulder, Darleston resumed his saunter along the riverbank. The little boat bobbed along beside them, maintaining a respectful distance.
‘Why didn’t you tell me that Lyle was here?’ Darleston asked, though he knew the answer.
Ned released his grip. ‘As if you don’t know. If I had, you wouldn’t have come. I know what you’re like when your humours are unbalanced. It’s as if the whole world is out to get you. You’d have given me some patter about keeping the scandal at home and not transferring it, when really Lyle’s probably the best thing that could happen to you at the moment. You can’t mope around after Giles for ever. He’s a married man.’
‘As is Lyle, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
To his vexation, Neddy simply shrugged. ‘Not in the same way. He and the wife aren’t close like Giles and Fortuna. Oh, Rob, you’re not telling me that you’ve suddenly grown a conscience, are you? Because I don’t believe it. I really hate to indulge most of your little peccadilloes but I always liked Lyle. He’s good for you. I’d rather see you with him than one of those mollies in town.’
‘There’s no fear of that.’ Not while Lucy still had a tongue to tattle with. He couldn’t risk any real scandal, or she’d have him forced into fleeing the country. Not that bedding Lyle wasn’t a risk, but less of one. Lyle being married would certainly make things more palatable if word got out. The notion of them wife-sharing was quite a different matter from sodomising one another.
‘How is it you didn’t come down to see Jack earlier with the others?’ Neddy asked
Darleston slowly sucked his lip as he considered his response. Since he’d cut his hair in January, they’d become more alike. He looked at Ned and was disturbed to find such a perfect reflection staring back at him. Since childhood they’d taken pains to be as individual as possible. ‘Other things to think on.’
Ned grinned. ‘You’re not actually cross with me over Lyle at all then. That’s good. I would like you to see Jack, though. He’s something unique. I think you’ll approve.’
‘Aye, well, maybe tomorrow.’ Having reached a fenced border, Darleston turned back towards the house.
‘You say that as if you had another pressing social call to make.’
‘You know me. I’m just not that interested in sweaty labourers. I only ever watch you in the ring and then only to ensure you remember to climb out again.’
‘You won’t say that once you’ve seen him.’ Neddy’s jovial exuberance almost convinced him to make it a date, but really he had far more interesting plans for the morrow. He waited as his brother returned to the coracle and watched as they pushed out into the river again. We’ll see, he thought. We’ll see what tidings Lyle brings.
* * *
She could pleasure herself.
She could pleasure herself.
Emma lay on her back in the freshly made bed in the room she shared with Lyle, her arms positioned rigidly by her sides. Her nightshift covered her body from her neck to her ankles. The lace around her neck tickled her every time she exhaled. The question really was: did she dare? Also, while Lyle had said it was possible, he’d failed to dictate the exact method of accomplishing such a task.
Who was she trying to fool?
She didn’t need a map to know which bits of her body were sensitive and which were not. If she hadn’t before today, she certainly did now, following Darleston’s attempt to kiss her and Lyle’s performance, not to mention having watched the two men fuck.
Oh, dear Lord, had she really started to think in such crude language? Her family would be horrified to hear what went on in her head. She guessed that was another reason to avoid physical contact. People always seemed to read one another better when they were touching.
Darleston remained firmly lodged in her thoughts. The moments leading to the touch and all that followed kept replaying themselves. Even as she’d crept towards them through the bushes with no knowledge of lovemaking as such, on a gut level she’d understood what the sounds were. She’d arrived expecting to find Lyle on the receiving end, and had been doubly surprised and overheated when she’d seen that it was Darleston instead.
He’d had his eyes closed when she approached. His jaw was locked tight too, making her think that there was a measure of strain involved in the pursuit of pleasure. As she’d watched, his expression had slowly changed, a sort of rapture seeming to soften his hard features. Yet her attention had not remained upon his face, rather it had been repeatedly drawn to that point where the two men’s bodies were linked.
She had been too far away to really see the details of Lyle’s prick penetrating Darleston’s pale buttocks, but she’d been close enough to see Darleston’s prick standing erect, and to get an illicit thrill from it.
Emma’s breasts grew heavy again when she pictured the two men moving together as one. She had never witnessed anything quite so earthy or beautiful. Her nipples tingled and a thread of fire seemed to link the two points to a third, far more sensitive place between her thighs. Lyle would no doubt tell her to explore a little in any of those places. Yet it seemed wrong to do so. Darleston, she suspected, would offer to do it for her, and a not insignificant part of her worried that her response would not be the definite negative it ought to be.
Emma huffed a sigh against the edge of the bed sheet. After his performance Lyle had gone, having expressly told her where to find him. It hurt a little to think of him curled up in Darleston’s bed. More specifically it made her shivery and transformed the dark above her into something isolating and oppressive rather than comforting.
She didn’t like to have him sleep by her. The soft whisper of his breathing kept her awake all night.
Her only consolation was that Lyle had promised to speak to Darleston about arranging another tryst that she could watch. If she’d imagined such a thing possible even twelve hours ago, she’d have thought herself crazy. In all likelihood she was exactly that.
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