Chapter 18 Lucas
Lucas
Kissing Milord, pressing up against her body, seeing Benoit’s kisses turn the barely visible edges of her shoulders and neck pink and red…
it was almost too much, too arousing, for me to bear it all so soon.
I felt my hardness straining, even as I attempted to calm myself and take things slowly for her sake.
It was all for her sake, though it seemed she still needed some time to believe how earnest Benoit and I were in our adoration.
When I asked her name, though, she withdrew, her face revealing no small degree of discomfort.
I met Benoit’s eyes over her shoulder. He appeared as confounded as I that a small question would cause Milord unease.
Finally, she muttered: “You will laugh at me.”
That uttered phrase made us both cling to her tighter, and I resisted the urge to chuckle in an attempt to put her at ease.
“Milord, we would do no such thing,” I protested.
“Indeed,” Benoit affirmed, his voice low and gravely. That inspired more longing in me, but I knew tonight had to be about Milord, centering her and her desires. I had never indulged my passion for men, and I yearned for it now more than ever.
Her body sagged between us, and I took a risk and used my fingers to gently pull her chin upwards, so that she was looking into my eyes once more.
I had not given into cowardice when Milord wanted me before, and I would do everything in my power to continue to be there for her, in whatever capacity she needed me.
Even if, as in this moment, it was more frightening than not.
“Milord, the reason I ask…” I paused to swallow, noticing that my throat had gone dry from all the kissing. “I have only taken one lover before.”
I paused again, wishing I could have had this conversation privately, without Benoit present.
I knew he was unlikely to judge me as we had formed a bond of friendship with one another, but it was still something that the men of this land often found shameful: being slow to take lovers, and in small numbers at that.
She looked at me then, truly looked at me, her sky-blue eyes fully present and curious.
“Why does such a thing matter, Lucas?”
Now it was my turn to duck my head in shame.
To her credit, Milord laced her fingers in my hair and pulled my face back up, forcing my gaze to meet hers.
I could only hope that she would continue to understand and embrace her strength in this way…
and it was not entirely an unselfish thought, for her fingers in my hair seemed to send a direct, fiery line of arousal down to my loins.
Her strength gave me strength as well, so I drew in a deep breath and answered her question.
“Soon after I’d fled my village, I was trying to make my way somewhere safe.
I had no money in the currency of this land, so I was sleeping in barns and similar places, hoping to evade notice.
” That had been a time of fearful intensity; I had been as twitchy as a rabbit, starting at any sound that might be human-made.
And with so little control over my newfound faerie powers, I often ran farther than expected when startled, and so lost my way many times.
I was almost lost in memory…and shame. But then she loosened her hands in my hair, and caressed my scalp, strands parting under her fingers as though acknowledging her sway over me. She brought me back to the present, back to myself…and I hoped she always would.
“One such barn was attached to a farmhouse that seemed abandoned, and I thought it a safe place to seek refuge. But the family living there was hiding, deliberately not setting a fire so as to evade detection. They had a daughter my age, who found me. I almost ran, but she soothed me, and brought me food.”
A small smile came to my lips. “We talked, and whatever fib she told her family, she stayed with me for hours.” The bread had been hard and the ale sour, but it was sustenance, and I had yearned for human company more than I had realized.
“We did not know how long we had, and once I had done my best to strip the road dust from me in a nearby stream, we embraced one another. She did not know what her future held, and she wished to be intimate with someone of her own choosing; I felt much the same way.” My smile broadened.
“We were both inexperienced, of course, and there was more fumbling than not. But I did my best to bring her pleasure, and she acted the same way, and it was one of the more pleasant evenings I could recall.”
I met Benoit’s pale blue eyes over Milord’s shoulder, and was a little surprised to see that he seemed as enrapt in my story as she was.
But his eyes also held a wary tone, as though cautioning me to remain gentle with Milord’s heart; she had not seen as much of the rough ways of the world as we had.
And even now, this part of the story gutted me.
“She was gone in the morning. Her family must have picked up and left, sensing the threat nearby. And indeed, I could see the dust on the path being kicked up by Matapa’s army in the moments before my instincts took over and my faerie-cursed legs carried me far away,” I ended on a bitter note.
“I could not slow down to track them, could not control my gift long enough to think about it, form a plan, find her again.”
Milord dropped her forehead against my chin. I kissed her smooth skin. Then pulled away to finish my story.
“I never learned her name. And so I vowed to never take another lover whose name I did not know; I felt as though I had dishonored myself, and her, by assuming we had more time together, when in fact we did not.”
She rested silently against me for another moment.
Then she pulled back, making sure our eyes met.
“I am sorry for your pain, Lucas. And I would never wish to be the cause of such agony for you, certainly not if it were easily within my power to remedy. My full name is Amabelle-Adorabelle, for my mother wished for a boy after the birth of my sisters Marguerite and Colette. Indeed, had I been a boy or better yet twin boys I would have been able to keep my cousin company, and so my mother, wishing so very hard for this outcome, had picked out names beginning with the letter ‘a’ so that I would have a name to pair with his. But since it was just me, and a girl at that, I was given two very unwieldy names. My sisters hated me for it, since they were envious of the anticipation preceding my birth as well as the attention lavished on me after. My names were soon shortened to Belle-Belle, and that was for the best to ease my embarrassment and their teasing.”
Such marvelous names could barely begin to describe Milord’s wondrous countenance and character, and I doubted I would ever be able to publicly refer to her as such.
I boldly pulled her back in for an embrace, breaking our eye contact.
She let me hold her, and I saw Benoit smile and nod over her shoulder.
Together, we would make sure she felt as treasured as she deserved to be.
“Your name is as beautiful as you are, Milord,” I murmured against her hair. “Thank you for trusting me with it, and be assured that I will maintain its secrecy.”
She reached up to draw my face to hers for a deep kiss, as though pressing relief into my lips. I relished the contact before she broke away.
“Thank you, Lucas, for reminding me that I can trust you, and that you will not mock me as others in my past have.” She turned to face Benoit and kissed him as well. Feeling her buttocks moving and pressing into my groin made me moan.
One of her hands reached back, and she grasped my hips, drawing me even closer.
“Shall we resume, then?” she asked, arching her back, and all I could do was give in, exhaling as though all the world’s happiness had found me.
Belle-Belle
Now that I knew I was not to be shamed for being too much, or too little—a paradox that somehow defined my early life—I eagerly reached for Benoit with one hand and Lucas with the other.
Lucas bumped against my backside, and I could feel how hard he was. Knowing that I could have him or Benoit tonight, or both, sent a heady rush of heat to my cheeks. I disentangled for long enough to start pulling my shirt over my head, and my men assisted, taking off their shirts as well.
Warm chests on either side of me: Benoit’s lightly furred, and Lucas’s quite smooth. Their warmth drove into me, and I gasped as two sets of hands explored my body. Benoit’s tongue claimed mine in a long, passionate kiss, while Lucas’s mouth explored the nape of my neck.
Benoit gently knotted a huge hand in my hair, keeping my lips anchored to his.
I let out a soft moan of pleasure, tasting his mouth as deeply as I could.
At the same time, Lucas’s hands found my breasts and began to knead them, circling around the nipples at first, and then moving in to lightly pinch them. My hips bucked.
I broke the kiss to gasp, “More!”
Lucas found his way under my arm to take one nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, flicking and withdrawing rapidly.
I moaned. Benoit used the opening of my mouth to force his way in even more, penetrating me with his tongue, exploring even deeper.
After more teasing, Lucas began to suck, hard, on my nipple, which made me thrash against both men.
Lucas withdrew enough to roll me onto my back, though Benoit maintained the kiss throughout.
Lucas used one hand to massage my other breast while keeping his mouth attached to the nipple.
As I writhed, thinking I could not bear any more, Lucas put his mouth to my other breast, again teasing and flicking the nipple at first, then taking more of my breast into his mouth and creating suction.
It was almost painful, but I loved it, along with Benoit’s stubble scraping my chin as he persisted in kissing me deeply. My core felt drenched with a wet heat, and I was not sure which man I wanted more in that moment, or how I wanted them.