CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE #2
What remained was warmth, uncertainty, and the astonishing fact of being wanted without anyone being asked to disappear.
A hand settled on her knee and waited there until she covered it with her own.
Archie’s hand. Duncan’s gaze flicked to it, then to her face, asking the question Archie had asked with touch. Ceci answered by drawing Archie’s fingers higher beneath the edge of her dressing gown.
The sound he made was small and almost startled.
Duncan leaned in then, his mouth at her throat, his hand steady at her waist while Archie bent over her lap and kissed the inside of her wrist with wicked patience.
He took his time with it, as if her pulse were a secret he meant to coax from her skin.
His head came to rest against her thigh.
His cheek was warm through the thin silk.
When Duncan’s mouth moved lower, to the place where her dressing gown had slipped from her shoulder, Archie turned and kissed the bare curve of her knee.
Ceci’s breath caught.
“There,” Archie murmured, pleased with himself.
Duncan gave a low laugh against her skin. “Behave.”
“I am behaving beautifully.”
He said something then, soft and indecent against her thigh, and Ceci felt herself blush so fiercely that both men noticed. Archie smiled as if the sight had undone him. Duncan’s hand tightened once at her waist.
When Duncan finally lifted his head and looked at both of them, there was enough raw feeling in his face to stop the moment from tipping into anything careless.
“We proceed,” he said, “only if none of us is merely being brave.”
Archie’s expression gentled at once. Ceci looked from one to the other and felt such a rush of tenderness it hurt.
“I’m not being brave,” she said.
Archie brushed her mouth once with his thumb. “Nor I.”
Duncan shut his eyes, then opened them again.
“Good.”
The heat between them settled into something slower.
Something deliberate. Duncan shifted behind her in the chair and drew her back against him, his chest warm through his open shirt.
His thighs bracketed hers. Archie remained before her, kneeling now, his hands resting lightly on her calves until she parted her knees and made room for him.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Duncan’s hand slid beneath the dressing gown and found the bare skin of her breast. Archie bent his head and kissed the inside of her knee, then higher, watching her face each time as if permission could change shape from one breath to the next.
Ceci’s fingers moved into his hair. That was answer enough.
His mouth followed the line of her thigh, slow and devastating, while Duncan’s lips brushed the shell of her ear.
“Tell us,” Duncan said.
The words should have embarrassed her. They did, a little. They also made the whole room sharpen around her.
Ceci told them.
Archie went still for half a second, then obeyed with such careful attention that her head fell back against Duncan’s shoulder.
Duncan held her there, one arm across her ribs, the other hand moving with Archie’s rhythm until Ceci could no longer tell which touch had made her helpless first. Archie’s mouth was warm and patient.
Duncan’s hand was sure. She heard herself say Archie’s name, then Duncan’s, then nothing articulate at all.
Duncan kissed the side of her face through it. Archie pressed his mouth to her thigh and smiled against her skin like a wicked man who had found religion and meant to ruin it.
Later, their shape changed again, as naturally as breathing.
Archie came up to kiss her, his mouth soft now, laughter gone from him.
Duncan’s hands moved over both of them, loosening what remained fastened, opening collars, drawing silk and linen aside until there was no room left for pretense.
Ceci touched the line of Duncan’s shoulder, then Archie’s chest, then watched them look at one another over her in a silence so charged it made her ache.
“Come here,” Archie said to Duncan.
Duncan did.
Their kiss was rougher than the ones they had given her, full of history and restraint, finally given somewhere to go. Ceci watched Archie’s hand close at the back of Duncan’s neck. She watched Duncan’s composure break by degrees. Then Archie looked back at her, eyes dark and bright.
“Still with us?”
She reached for him. “Yes.”
That was all he needed.
Archie moved behind her on the rug, drawing her back against his chest. His hands settled first at her waist, then opened over her ribs, careful even now, as if he still expected her to vanish if touched too boldly.
Duncan knelt before her, beautiful and serious, and kissed her as if the rest of the world could wait outside the door until morning.
Ceci’s dressing gown had slipped open. Archie noticed before she did. His breath changed against her neck, and then his hands rose, warm and reverent, to cup her breasts.
Ceci shivered.
“There,” Archie murmured, his mouth at her shoulder. “That’s better.”
Duncan looked up at them, and the sight of his face nearly undid her before he touched her again. Want had stripped him of every careful habit. His hand slid over her thigh, then higher, his gaze fixed on hers as Archie’s thumbs brushed slowly over her nipples.
“Still with us?” Duncan asked.
Ceci nodded, though it was not enough, and all three of them knew it.
“Say it,” Archie said softly, not teasing now. His lips moved against the side of her throat. “Let him hear you.”
“Yes,” she breathed. Then, because Duncan still waited, because he would wait all night if she left him there, she reached for him and said it again. “Yes, Duncan.”
That broke the last of his restraint.
He came over her slowly, pressing her back into Archie’s body, one hand braced beside her hip, the other guiding himself between her thighs. Archie held her steady, his arms around her, his hands still at her breasts, thumbs moving with devastating patience as Duncan pushed into her by degrees.
Ceci’s breath caught hard.
Duncan stopped at once, his forehead dropping against hers.
“No,” she whispered, reaching for his hip. “Don’t stop.”
His eyes closed.
“Ceci.”
“I want you.”
Archie made a rough, helpless sound against her shoulder. His hand tightened once around her breast, and the sharpness of pleasure went through her so cleanly that Duncan felt it. She knew he did. His whole body trembled with the effort of holding still.
Then she lifted her hips to him.
Duncan entered her fully on a broken breath.
For a moment, none of them moved. Ceci was held between them, Archie solid and warm behind her, Duncan above her, inside her, shaking with the same astonishment she felt.
Archie kissed her neck, her shoulder, the damp place beneath her ear.
His fingers shaped her breasts, stroked her nipples, learned exactly how each touch made her tighten around Duncan.
Duncan felt that too.
“Christ,” he said, very softly.
Archie smiled against her skin. “Yes. I thought you might like that.”
Ceci would have laughed if Duncan had not chosen that moment to move.
The first slow thrust stole the sound from her.
The second made her clutch at Archie’s arm.
Duncan moved with care at first, watching her face, learning the angle of her hips, the rhythm that made her soften and reach for him at once.
Archie held her open to it, one hand at her breast and the other sliding down her stomach until his fingers found the place where Duncan’s body moved inside hers.
The pleasure turned bright and unbearable.
“Duncan,” she said, and then, “Archie,” because there was no separating them now.
Duncan kissed her hard, losing the last battle with himself. Archie touched her in time with Duncan’s thrusts, murmuring praise against her throat until she could no longer tell whether she was being worshipped or ruined. Perhaps there was no useful difference.
The room narrowed to breath and heat, and the three of them moving together. Duncan inside her, Archie behind her, Archie’s hand at her breast, Archie’s fingers lower, Duncan’s mouth at hers, Duncan’s body driving her steadily toward an exquisite release she didn’t realize she had been craving.
When it broke, it broke through all of them.
Ceci came apart with Archie’s arm locked around her waist and Duncan’s hand gripping hers against the rug.
Her body clenched around Duncan, and the sound he made was raw enough to make Archie go still behind her.
Duncan followed her a moment later, burying his face against her neck as he spent himself inside her, his composure gone so completely that Ceci felt tenderness flood through the pleasure.
Afterward, he stayed over her, trembling.
Archie’s breath warmed the back of her neck. One of his hands remained curved around her breast, gentler now, his thumb moving once in apology or wonder. Duncan pressed his mouth to Ceci’s shoulder, then reached blindly for Archie.
Archie took his mouth with hunger.
For a long moment, that was the shape of them: Ceci between them, Duncan still inside her, Archie wrapped around her from behind, the three of them holding on as if the room had tilted and this was the only stable thing left.
And when they left the library together, with the fire collapsing gently in the grate behind them, the house felt less haunted than it had in years.