At Her Service (Swords of Passion) Read Free

Simon raged at the thin heap of bones in the bed.
    “I will,” her husband agreed on a thread of sound and dropped her hand. “Come, my pet, lie down here beside me.” He threw aside the covers towards the middle of his huge bed and patted the bedclothes. “On your back. Simon, you will observe what a pretty prize she is laid out for you.”
    Her gaze shot to Simon’s, and what hers said, she prayed, was help me .
    Simon’s sensuous expression was already melting to pity as he nodded at her.
    So assured, Elise circled Simon and strode to the other side of the bed. She climbed in, arranging herself as stiff as a dead woman next to her husband and wondering what next he might do to excite her.
    With a sigh, he rolled to his side, cupped her head, turned her face and kissed the tip of her nose. Then with a licentious look no dying man should muster, he ran his hand from her earlobe to her throat, one breast, her waist and down to her hairy little bush. “Let me feel your juices flow, my pet.”
    She relaxed her thighs and allowed his fingers to move in and out of her slit. And she could not resist rocking her hips to his rhythm as she detected Simon moved towards her side of the bed.
    “Inside her here,” he said to Simon as he thrust two fingers far up into her wet core and made her arch, “is a fiery furnace Elise made most nights I came to her. I was always grateful, even if I had to pump her and myself to get inside her. But I was still thankful to be so complimented by a lovely woman half my age.” He removed his fingers, inserted one in his mouth, licked it delicately and turned his face up to Simon. “She is a succulent beauty.” He smacked his lips. “She always did taste like sugar, de la Poer. I want to see you eat her. She always loved my mouth on her though I must admit that way, I could never make her pulse. I want to see you kiss her cunt until she quakes.”
    Elise swallowed at a wave of excitement that Simon might lick her cunny, suck her pulsing nether lips and let her taste herself on his mouth.
    “Do you hear me, de la Poer?” her husband insisted.
    “Aye, Atherton,” Simon ground out.
    “I want her to be so well bedded she never craves another.”
    Oh, Christ. Elise’s eyes closed. Another reason to recall Simon until I die. “Alphonse…” She did not know what she would beseech him for, save respite from this anticipation of Simon’s possession.
    “Come hither, de la Poer.”
    She heard Simon breathing in hard, rampant soughs, and she pressed her thighs together, wanting his hands there between her legs and shoved up high and hard inside her hungry channel. She licked her lower lip, undulated her hips and committed to the inevitable wonder of mating with Simon de la Poer.
    “Hear her. She moans in need, Simon. Come,” Alphonse whispered and turned away to cough once. “Climb into bed with us.”
    She heard no sound, no movement and after checking her husband’s gaze for his permission to assume control, she turned on her side, away from him and towards the man who would now join them. Simon stood, his nostrils flared, his mouth set, his gaze on her bush. Alphonse curled an arm around her waist and threaded his fingers into her cunny hair in a lazy sign of possession. She shifted and bucked, allowing him greater access for the ministrations she needed and wanted to lure Simon to them.
    “Listen to this, Simon,” Alphonse crooned. The sound of lush liquid flowed into the silence as her husband’s fingers swirled inside her and drove her up to a spiralling need. “She is ready for you. Come join us. The night is long, and she is most eager to spend it with you, aren’t you, my pet?”
    For answer, she looked into Simon’s eyes and there she found an answering need that had her whispering to him, “Remove your clothes.”
    Bold and brazen now with her husband nestled at her back, she let one hand stray from her throat to one breast where she circled a nipple with one finger