Page 15 of The Education of Ivy Leavold
“Wildcat,” he said raggedly, “let me reward you.”
Silas had been watching silently this whole time, maintaining a respectful distance as Mr. Markham and I completed our exchange of power, but now he came forward and knelt before me as well. Two pairs of eyes—one pair fern green and the other pair bright blue—gazed up at me with a heady combination of lust and devotion.
“Undress me,” I finally said. “I want to feel you both on my skin.”
They both leapt to obey, helping me out of the chair, fingers digging into buttons and ties, and I sighed against the warmth of their movements, sighing again as I was divested of my clothes. Silas nimbly unfastened my corset, and my sighs turned into a sudden intake of breath as the cool air finally brushed against my aching nipples and swollen breasts.
Silas brushed his lips around the crescent swells, kissing in a spiral until his mouth was sucking hot and wet on a furled peak. My back arched and my hand went to Silas’ head, holding him fast where he was. I felt and heard his low chuckle at my eagerness, and then he reached down, his hands sliding past the heart shape of my ass and then hoisting me up so that my legs were around his waist, his mouth affixed to my breast the entire time.
As he walked me over to the bed, I marveled at how different his body felt from Mr. Markham’s. Silas was just as tall, just as toned, but there was something urbane and smooth about him, about his entire bearing, as if he charmed his way through life rather than growled through it like Mr. Markham did. Even his hands under my ass felt polished and refined. And as he laved my nipple with his talented tongue and as I began—more or less unconsciously—grinding my cleft against his stone-hard cock, one got the sense that Silas was never far away from a wide grin or a loud laugh. Joy and mirth—they suffused him, like an affable light.
Mr. Markham was correct earlier today. What Silas did with us, with the others, that was playing, a game for the wealthy and bored to idle away their time. When Mr. Markham and I were alone together, it was something else entirely—something unique and deep and hallowed.
Which wasn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy the playing.
Silas walked us over to the bed, and my eyes met Mr. Markham’s over Silas’ shoulder. He had shucked his shirt, so I could see the planes and furrows of his flat stomach and the way his torso tapered into narrow hips, a defined line of muscle making an emphaticVleading to his groin.
His eyes moved down, seeing my pelvis flush against Silas’, and his jaw set. In an instant, he was next to us, and there was palpable jealousy in the way he plucked me from his friend’s grasp and laid me across the bed. But his stiffness and labored breathing confirmed what he had told me before dinner, that the jealousy was only fuel for his desire, and so I felt no guilt about reaching for both of them and pulling them both down on top of me, both men all muscle and limbs and roving hands.
Mr. Markham’s mouth met mine first, a hard kiss that felt more like a branding. His hand cupped the back of my head, and he parted my lips with his own, sliding his tongue against mine, licking past my teeth and deep into my mouth. I was panting when he broke away, heat flushing up my belly and up my neck, and his eyes glittered triumphantly.
Meanwhile, Silas had been tracing circles on the taut skin of my stomach, looping ever wider loops around my navel. “I’d like to follow this blush down to its source, Julian,” he said. “That is, if you permit it.” There was nothing but brotherly amusement in his voice, as if his friend’s jealousy was an adorable quirk that he’d long since grown used to.
Mr. Markham’s mouth twitched and a rare smile creased his face. He kissed my neck and then my shoulder. “Am I being selfish with you?” he murmured into my collarbone.
“Yes,” I whispered. “And I love it.”
Silas pressed his palm to my sternum and then ran his hand down to the swell in between my legs. “He should be selfish with you. You are quite delicious, and the moment the shepherd looks away, you can be guaranteed that a wolf will be there to snatch you up.” He lowered his head and dragged his teeth along one nipple to underscore his point. Mr. Markham was kissing my neck now, and once again there were two different hands caressing my folds, drawing lines in the crease where my thighs joined my body.
“But Ipromise,” and Silas looked at me with mock solemnity, “that you can trust me not to breach Julian’s trust too much. At the very least, I won’t fight back if he decides to hurl me to the floor in an envious rage.”
A quiet laugh rippled through the three of us, and Silas shed the faux-serious face immediately, grinning widely. Mr. Markham lifted his head and our eyes met and I knew that Silas was right. Intrinsic trust was strung between them, and now it was strung between me as well, and tonight would only bring pleasure, not discomfort, to the man Silas and I both loved.
And easily bruised egos be damned, as I kissed Julian, I twined my fingers in Silas’s hair and pushed his head down, past my breasts, past my ribs, down to my navel, where he touched his lips to the divot there and began kissing his way to my sex.
For the next several minutes, there was nothing in my world but the two different textures of Silas’ and Julian’s hair; Julian’s mouth on my mouth and on my neck and on my breasts; and Silas’s tongue licking at my seam, alternating between sucking at my clit and penetrating my entrance. I could feel the sweat sheening on my body as Silas cleverly manipulated me; all my nerves and sinews tightened and tightened, until everything from my chest to my knees felt like a piano wire about to snap.
But I wasn’t ready yet. I wanted them to worship me like this forever, but I also wanted the rigid steel of their cocks, wanted those cocks rubbing against me, sliding against my palms, burying themselves in me.
I let go of Silas’s hair to tug at Mr. Markham’s pants, which he wriggled easily out of, his large dick springing free as he came back to kiss me. I circled my fingers around him, marveling for the umpteenth time how large he was. He made a low noise of pleasure against my mouth as I continued to stroke him, and his hips were lifting off the bed as he began to fuck my hand.
“I need you inside,” I breathed. “Julian—”
Mr. Markham lifted me like I was a doll, and in a second’s work, we were both sitting on the edge of the bed, me positioned so that my back was to his chest and I was facing Silas, who sat back on his heels and watched us with my juices still glistening on his lips.
The tip of Mr. Markham’s cock was poised at my opening, and with one hand on my hip and the other holding the base of his dick, he slowly guided me down. Inch by inch he stretched me, pushing against my swollen sex, and I was wound so tightly that every incremental movement made me cry out and shudder, which made my lover growl in response.
“Fuck,” he muttered, as I finally took him to the root and came to rest against his thighs.
Then Silas was there, and he gently raised one of my legs and hooked it behind Mr. Markham’s and then did the same with the other, so that even though I rested on top of Mr. Markham’s lap, I was now spread wide open, my calves locked against the outside of his.
Silas knelt, flashing me his amiable grin, and then he pressed his face against my cunt once more. He sucked and nibbled on my bud as Mr. Markham moved underneath me, and then I felt the heat of his tongue moving from my clitoris to the stretched folds around the base of Mr. Markham’s cock.
The sensation was too much, and I sank against Mr. Markham’s chest, and even he moaned as Silas’ ministrations flickered across the place where we were joined. Mr. Markham’s hands circled my waist, large and possessive, and he started to move me back and forth. I held on to Silas’s head for balance, my fingers gripping his hair for dear life as I felt Mr. Markham inside me, pressing against my womb and then rubbing against that impossible spot lower down, the spot that made my toes curl and my hips buck.
“Come for us, wildcat,” Mr. Markham said. “Show us how much you like to be fucked by two adoring men.”
The piano wire was about to snap, about to split and lash and fly, and I threw my head back, surrendering to the impending fracture. I held Silas’s head tight to my clit as I began rocking toward my orgasm, using the lovely organ inside and the lovely mouth on the outside to hurtle myself forward, and I became a creature of nothing but raw need, not remembering Silas’s name or his wealth or his position as a gentleman, not remembering anything about Julian save that he wasmine, my own, and we were only need embodied, noise and sweat and heat.
