“I am,” he began, using all his will to get the words out in a clear manner, “so happy. Lady Janet…I have loved you…so long. To hear you…love me in return…is…is…a miracle. I had stopped…b-believing. My face. My body. My speech. I thought to n-never…find love. Then I was…blessed twice. A beloved mistress…and a beloved wife. Marjorie…”
“Aye, husband?” she asked, her smile turning impish.
“I fought…what I felt…for you. How could I c-care for…how could I love…two women? Two women…so different? But n-now I understand. All my needs met. To kneel. To protect and serve. A woman to…command me. A woman to…soothe me. And it is…paradise.”
“It is, rather,” said Lady Janet. “Marjorie? Do you wish to say anything, dear one?”
His wife nodded, squeezing both their hands. “My whole life, I was forsaken. Because of what my father did, I thought the most I could hope for was an ancient husband who might be kind. Never did I think I would meet a bold, beautiful, learned woman I desired. How could something called sinful feel so right? But then came more. A man I desired also. And this strong, brave man wed me. The desire soon blossomed into love. But although I hoped and prayed, I did not think to have that love returned, for surely I would never be good enough for the great Lady Janet Fraser or the great Sir Lachlan Ross. Yet…with your love, your teaching, your protection, I…I found myself at last. I found my voice and my purpose. I found courage to face the new and dangerous and unexpected. I found I am worthy. And for that, you have my loyalty and devotion. For always.”
“Perfectly said,” replied Lady Janet, turning to kiss Marjorie sweetly on the lips.
Utterly content, Lachlan leaned forward and rested his head on Lady Janet’s lap, his arms stretching to curve around each lady’s outer thigh. When two hands began stroking his hair, he thought he might happily stay like this forever.
Until those two hands tangled in his hair and roughly tugged his head up.
Sucking in a harsh breath at the delicious prickle of pain, Lachlan stared up at the two women, who were looking back at him with very wicked smiles.
“We’ve each declared our hearts,” said Lady Janet. “Now it is time to show that love with our bodies.”
“Ooooh, yes,” said Marjorie, her eyes sparkling. “Touching myself is quite wonderful, but it cannot compare to being touched and kissed and fucked by you both.”
Lachlan laughed, delighted at her candor. She had been well taught. “What do my ladies w-wish?”
“On your feet, pet,” said Lady Janet. “Marjorie and I shall assist you in undressing.”
Even the thought of their hands on him once more almost made him moan. Never had he scrambled to his feet so swiftly.
His women teased him unmercifully as they slowly removed his mantle, then unhooked the fastenings on his doublet, rubbing their breasts against his chest and back and arms, their fingers brushing his swelling cock and the curve of his arse through his hose.
Marjorie paused and tilted her head. “May I ask…why always a red doublet?”
Lachlan smiled ruefully. “The color was…my mother’s favorite. Naught to do with…blood.”
“We shall conceal that fact from your enemies,” said Lady Janet, her eyes glinting. “Now for that shirt. ’Tis a sin to keep that magnificent chest covered.”
Soon soft fingers caressed his skin, threaded through his chest hair, and tweaked his nipples before moving down to strip him of his shoes, hose, and stockings. By the time he stood naked, he panted with need.
“Now, pet,” purred Lady Janet. “We are going to undress dear Marjorie. Tease her until she needs sweet release as much as you do.”
His heart pounding with excitement, Lachlan assisted his mistress with undressing his wife. First her hood, then girdle and silver-embroidered gown, kirtle, and finally her shift, shoes, and stockings. Unable to resist the temptation, he stood behind Marjorie and cupped her breasts in his hands, pinching her tender nipples before offering them to Lady Janet to be sucked.
Marjorie whimpered.
“Something the matter, dear one?” asked Lady Janet lazily, flicking her tongue over those swollen tips as one finger trailed down Marjorie’s stomach, parted her bush, and stroked her center.
“Is she wet enough, mistress?” Lachlan rasped, gently biting the curve of his wife’s neck and turning her whimpers into a pleading cry.
“Not quite, pet. Sit on the chaise with Marjorie on your lap. Spread her thighs wide for me. You want me to taste that sweet little cunt, don’t you dear one?”
“Please,” Marjorie begged. “Please.”
Almost shaking with lust, his cock throbbing with the need to spend, Lachlan sat on the chaise and carefully settled his wife on his lap, hooking her legs over his before sliding both hands down and parting the crisp hair. Marjorie’s hips circled in an attempt to get him to touch her pearl, but his questing fingers merely circled the swollen bud before delving farther down to stroke the pink, petal-soft flesh. Already the heady scent of her arousal perfumed the air.
Lady Janet licked her lips, her gaze pure hunger, and Lachlan grinned.
“Enjoy your feast, mistress.”
“Oh, I shall.”
…
Lachlan’s brawny chest supporting her, Janet’s wicked tongue teasing her, was wondrous enough. But knowing they both loved her also…
Marjorie trembled, her heart so full, her body craving the touch of her husband and mistress so much, she could scarcely see straight. Each time they were together, she thought she knew how pleasure felt and what to expect. Yet each time Janet and Lachlan took her to new heights, and now, safe and loved and cherished and protected, it seemed she might soar to the heavens. Just a moment more. A moment more of Lachlan kissing and nipping at her neck, and Janet sucking her pearl and gently penetrating her with
